“The terms and conditions of a relationship determine the nature of the relationship.”

This is true. For example, think about the employers you’ve had in your life. Managers like to boast about having an “open door” policy. Yet it doesn’t take more than a week or two before you figure out there are two kinds of open door policy. The first one is a manager who invites your feedback, respects your viewpoint and values your contributions to the company.

The second one is a boss whose actions say, “My door is always open for you to come in and see my closed mind.”

The terms and conditions of a relationship determine the nature of the relationship. The manager who seeks out and values the input of the employees creates a relationship environment of team work and free flowing ideas. The boss who doesn’t creates a relationship environment of stunted communication and self-preservation.

The terms and conditions of the relationship determine the nature of the relationship.

When it comes to your relationship with God, whose terms and conditions are you operating by? Yours? Or God’s?

The distinction is crucial.

Some of us are operating by terms and conditions that view God as the divine policeman who waits for us to do something wrong so He can write us up. We live our lives walking on spiritual eggshells, afraid to risk or chance or dream for fear of messing up and incurring God’s wrath.

Some of us are operating from terms and conditions determined by our bad church experiences. People within the church have disappointed us. Or worse, wounded us. Perhaps pastors or leaders have abused our trust by taking liberties with their position. Living by these terms, we approach God with suspicion thinking it only a matter of time before He, too, will disappoint us.

Some of us are operating from terms and conditions imposed on us from our upbringing. Perhaps our parents’ view of God was extreme to one direction or the other. Years later, God to us is either a wholly unapproachable fire and brimstone Diety or our heavenly Fuzzy Buddy. Our terms and conditions have us viewing God as a single facet, ignoring the whole of who He is.

Some of us are operating from terms of guilt and shame. Our sins, we think, are impossibly large and unforgiveable. And should we manage to summon the courage to seek God’s forgiveness for these, we think it best not presume upon Him after that. For to do so would be asking one too many favors. So we live each day at a lonely distance from God, like a stray dog starving for attention, yet afraid to come close.

The terms and conditions of a relationship determine the nature of the relationship. When it comes to your relationship with God, what terms and conditions are you living by? Yours? Or God’s?

The flip side of Dr. Wakefield’s bookmark reads:

“The Lord is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in lovingkindness.” – Psalm 145:8

These are God’s terms and conditions for His relationship with us. God is gracious. He extends to us blessings we don’t deserve. He is compassionate. Which is to say He knows what we’re made of because He made us. And because of that He cares for us as a loving Father cares for his children. How would your relationship with God change if you understood His heart toward you is always gracious and full of compassion?

God is slow to anger. He is not a heavenly hot-head with a hair trigger. How would your relationship with God change if you understood God is patient with you?

God abounds in lovingkindness toward us. Lovingkindness. In Hebrew, the word is “chesed”. It means a “loyal love”. A love that won’t quit on you. A love that is bulldog tenacious. A love that latches on to you and will not let you go. Ever.

According to God’s terms and conditions, His lovingkindness to you is abounding. We don’t use that word often but it’s wonderful in context here.  It means to “exist in large quantities.” So to paraphrase God’s terms and conditions, “God is kind beyond reason, understanding beyond measure, incredibly patient and loves you with overflowing large quantities of tenacious loyal love that will not let you go. Ever.”

When we allow God to define Himself and His relationship to us by His terms and conditions we experience the grace, acceptance, love and freedom He desires for us.

Whose terms and conditions would you rather live with? Yours? Or God’s? You get to choose. I’d choose for you but I can’t. It’s up to you.

So I’ll just encourage you to make your own bookmark. And think about getting it laminated.

That’s what I’m doing.

“The Lord is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in lovingkindness.” – Psalm 145:8

Todd A. Thompson – ASliceOfLifeToGo.com

You can imagine that when in August of that year God moved me to Phoenix, Arizona to attend seminary that it was quite an adjustment. Out of some two million people living there at the time I knew only four. It didn’t take long before I was missing my family and friends in a major way.

It took several months of visiting churches before God pointed me to First Baptist-Tempe. In December just before Christmas I was invited for dinner at the home of Chet and Rosie Farrington who were long time members there.

After a delicious meal, Rosie said to me, “Todd, there’s something here you might be interested in.” She reached out and pulled a small plaque off the wall. It looked old and it had a Bible verse on it. Nice, I thought. I like old things that have character.

“Look on the back”, she said.

I turned it over. A list of signatures. And the names…”Hey, I know all these people!”

“That’s the plaque the Men’s Brotherhood of First Baptist Church in Swea City, Iowa gave to Chet in January of 1956 just before we moved to Arizona.”

Swea City, Iowa is my hometown. And First Baptist Church is where I grew up from the week I was born. On the list of names are the signatures of my great grandfather, both my grandfathers, a great uncle, and many of my neighbors growing up.

What I hadn’t known in moving to this big city was that before I was so much as a twinkle in my parents’ eyes, Chet and Rosie had lived across the field from my grandparents and attended my home church.

To see those names and the familiar signatures of my family members in this new and lonely place was like water in the desert. It was a connection. A reminder of my heritage. That I come from somewhere. And most important, that the God who grew me up in Iowa was with me in Arizona.

That plaque didn’t just happen. Back in 1956, someone in the First Baptist Church thought it would be a nice gesture to give Chet Farrington something to remember them by as he moved away to the big city. 37 years later that person’s thoughtfulness encouraged another guy who had moved away to the big city.

Friends, when we extend kindness to others we never know how far it reaches. Or who it touches. Across the miles and across generations. Let’s be purposeful in our kindness and intentional in our encouragement.

That’s a legacy we can gladly sign our name to.

Todd A. Thompson – ASliceOfLifeToGo.com

As Frederick Buechner wrote, “Laughing is better than crying and maybe not even all that different…(because) no matter what the immediate occasion is of either your laughter or your tears, the object of both ends up being yourself and your own life.”

Several months ago while driving on Loop 289 with my girls, Annie said out of the blue, “Daddy, we need to get you a girlfriend. We’re going to be graduating soon and we don’t want you dying alone.”

She packed three traumatic events into one sentence. I was proud of her for her efficient word usage and communicating with maximum punch. And frightened that my 10-year old sees her graduation and my passing as imminent events.

“Yeah, Daddy”, says Emma, “Why don’t you get on one of those “Date.com” things?” Apparently they’ve seen the commercials. Apparently, so have a lot of people.

It’s estimated that in 2011 the U.S. online dating industry will hit $1 billion in revenues. That’s a lot of people hoping to find the happiness they see in the commercials for sites like E-Harmony and Match. In the UK, 1 in 5 marriages of those age 30 and under are relationships that began online. And to think my parents and grandparents managed to meet and marry, all without the aid of computers. “Instant Messaging” for my Grandfather meant tossing a pebble at Grandma’s window to get her attention.

I was on E-Harmony for awhile. The sign up process made me nervous. I was very leery of this online stuff. Maybe I’m more like my Grandfather than I thought. We gave him a new radio once for Christmas. He set it up on the refrigerator in a prominent spot, while continuing to play the old radio he had stashed behind it. Technology is not to be trusted.

Not being sure if I’d like it or not, I decided not to use my first name, thinking I could change it later. You can’t. So now I’m “Rambo”. Not really. I used my middle name, “Stud Warrior”.

I took the multidimensional personality profile that E-Harmony boasts. Supposedly it will cut through the superfluous data and match me with highly compatible females who share my interests and values. I’m sure the profiles I saw represent nice people. But for the longest time it seemed the only matches E-Harmony sent me were 55-year old retired librarians who live in Missouri in a big house with 12 cats. I’ve got nothing against librarians or Missourians. But I live in Texas and I like dogs. They must have adjusted the algorithm slightly because I started getting matched with 48-year old women from Arkansas whose goal in life was to work for the ASPCA and rescue all the cats the librarians had yet to get to.

In the online environment, as in face to face environments, everyone wants to put their best self on display. Except the anonymity of the cyber world allows the opportunity to exaggerate one’s information and appearance. A recent study done in Europe found that over 55% of those involved in online dating had experienced some form of deception. Italians seemed to have the most trouble being honest with each other, saying over 70% of them had lied or exaggerated their profile. Mamma Mia! That’s putting a lot of extra cheese on the calzone.

If I’m meeting a girl in person for a first date I can’t say that I look like a young Sean Connery because before she can say “007″, she’ll be able to discern that Sean never had a forehead that high or a hairline in rapid retreat. Yet online one can post any photograph of themselves. A guy once told me that he had a chance to finally meet the lady he’d been corresponding with online. “In her picture, she looked young. When we met in person I realized the picture was probably her drivers license photo and she was on the last year of a ten year license.”

Getting to know someone in an online environment is challenging for anyone. It’s not easy being single. Harder being a single parent. And even more challenging when you’re divorced. Add to that, I’m an older single person. All these together are daunting for anyone.

But nothing is ever easy for me. I’m “divorced, older, single parent guy with a plastic eye.”

In the interest of full disclosure, how do you gently work that into an online instant message chat?

And if the relationship has potential, how do you sell that as an upside? “If you marry me, you can make faces when I’m driving and I’ll never know.” Or, “I promise to only see half of any mistakes you might make.” Or maybe, “Hey, just think! Our contact lens budget will be reduced by 25%!”

After going through the process you start to think the chances of meeting someone compatible are about the same as marrying the person who pulls up next to you at a red light. Which, now that I think about it, might not be a bad idea. People have gotten engaged, married and had their first kid in the time it takes traffic lights in Lubbock to turn green.

Single or married, divorced or widowed, God loves us. Quirks and all. How wonderful that He does. He’s right there in the middle of it all whether we’re happy or sad, connected or disconnected, joyous or grieving, loved on or lonely.  He’s always here, caring constantly about the details of our lives. However frayed our edges are, He promises in the end to tie up all the loose ends. Psalm 138:8 promises that “The Lord will accomplish all that concerns me.” One translation reads, “The Lord will perfect all that concerns me.” Which is to say however incomplete we feel, God will never leave His purpose for us undone.

Next time you see the commercials, remember not everything is as it appears to be. “Rick and Becky – matched on E-Harmony, July 2010.” Him spinning her happily around in a field of wildflowers while she laughs at the sky.

The commercial I think we’d all like to see is what happens when she meets his mother and he forgets Valentine’s Day.

That’s what you call “reality television”.

“The Lord will accomplish all that concerns me.” – Psalm 138:8

Todd A. Thompson – ASliceOfLIfeToGo.com

When I was a kid I would play Scrabble with my Grandma Thompson. She was into her 70′s the first time we ever played. Grandma liked words. I remember her doing the Jumble puzzle in the newspaper everyday. She had been a school teacher and principal in the 1920′s before marrying my Grandfather and becoming a farm wife. She believed in being a life long learner and led by example.

Scrabble was fun for her because she was good at it. My Grandfather was good at it, too, but I had a hard time getting him to join us because Grandma most always won. And it wasn’t just that she usually won. It was how she won that made him crazy.

Grandma was what could be kindly described as a deliberate player. Grandpa would describe her as a slow player. She would study the board, look at every possibility, then look some more. Her turn would sometimes turn into a coffee break for me and Grandpa. Finally, she would put down her letters, usually for a big word and lots of points.

On this particular day, Grandpa was winning. As the available letters dwindled to zero, Grandpa got excited. He had a big lead. There were no more letters left to be drawn. We were stuck with what we had on our tray. He managed a double word score and increased his lead to what seemed insurmountable. I played some grand three letter word like “sit” or “dog”.

Then it was Grandma’s turn.

She put her hand to her chin and scanned the board, quietly studying the open squares. Grandpa and I looked at the board and then at each other. Why was Grandma taking so long? We can’t see a single opening anywhere, save maybe adding an “I” to an “F” for “IF”. Certainly nothing that could generate enough to win the game.

Why take so long looking and hoping for something that just isn’t there?

Grandpa was a patient man. He’d been married to Grandma for over 50 years. But he was ready for this game to be over. He was ready to win. “Hurry up, Bernice. Play something.”

“I’m still looking.”

Drink a little coffee. Look out the window. Look at the board.

There’s nothing there.

“Oh”, she says. “This will work.”

She put down the rest of her letters. “Let’s see. That’s on a triple word score, too….48 points. And I’m out. What’s the score, Dettmer?”

Whatever Grandpa said to her he said walking away from the table.

Grandma wins. Again.

I was thinking today that at times my relationship with God is like playing Scrabble with Grandma. I can’t make sense of the board and my letters are all consonants and I can’t draw an “A” or an “E” to save my life. I can’t see any openings and I’ve played the same short words over and over. Words like…

Why?

When?

How?

Where.

Are.

You.

God?

I’ve taken my turn. It’s God’s turn to go. But He’s not going.

Drink some coffee. Look out the window. Pray. Repeat. Again. And again.

Day after day. Month after month.

Year after year.

“Hurry up and play, God!”

And about the time I’m ready to quit and walk away from the game because I see no possibilities, no openings and no chance to make sense of anything in my life, God plays His letters. A triple word score with a “Z” and an “X” for a zillion points. And I stand in awe of how He could make something out of nothing. How He made a way where there was no way.

God wins. Again. He always does. And though it’s sometimes hard for my stubborn self to admit, when God wins in my life, I win.

If you’re waiting for God to play His letters, or wondering how He could ever help you make a word with the goofy mix of letters on your tray, hang in there. Take it from someone who’s gotten out of his chair more than once. Don’t walk away from the game. There is a blessing to be had by staying at the table. Sometimes God is slower than your Grandma. But He’s never late. And He promises that when He makes His play, whatever He puts down for you will be worth the wait.

Oh, about my Grandpa and that Scrabble game…It took a long time before I got him to play with us again. When he finally agreed to another game, Grandma had the first turn. She played a huge word on a double word score. All the usual points plus a 50-point bonus for using all seven letters. She was up 85 to zero before Grandpa’s chair was even warm.

Whatever words he laid down we didn’t hear because he just smiled, shook his head and went outside to work in the garden.

It was just me and Grandma after that.

“But this I call to mind; therefore I have hope: The Lord’s loyal kindness never ceases; His compassions never end. They are fresh every morning; your faithfulness is abundant! “My portion is the Lord,” I have said to myself, so I will put my hope in him. The Lord is good to those who trust in Him, to the one who seeks him. It is good to wait patiently for deliverance from the Lord.” - Lamentations 3:21-26

“For I am confident that He (God) who began a good work in you will continue to perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 1:6

Todd A. Thompson – ASliceOfLifeToGo.com

]]> http://www.asliceoflifetogo.com/2011/01/17/triple-word-score/feed/ 0 http://www.asliceoflifetogo.com/2011/01/06/ghost-writer/ http://www.asliceoflifetogo.com/2011/01/06/ghost-writer/#comments Fri, 07 Jan 2011 00:07:23 +0000 todd http://www.asliceoflifetogo.com/?p=517 The wall mounted mirror is behind the door so you don’t see it when you walk in. Only when you walk out. Even then, I never paid any attention to it.

On this particular day life was pouring in more than usual. Like the way I used to feel shoveling through a giant drift after an Iowa blizzard. I’d finally see sidewalk when a big chunk would bust loose from the top and I’d be up to my boots again in snow.

Some days you just can’t shovel fast enough.

I was telling God about my plight and wondering out loud why it seemed to me that He wasn’t as aware of my situation as I thought He should be. I mean, God, if you’re not going to help me shovel can you at least keep the stuff from pouring in so fast?

A little help here, maybe?

It was time to go pick up my kids from school. I opened the door about half way and that’s when it caught my eye. The mirror. I closed the door and looked again. Nothing there.

Ok, I know I only have one eye but thanks to a contact lens, it works reasonably well. I know I saw something in that mirror.

I opened the door and glanced again at the mirror, this time the way I used to look at the old 3-D baseball cards that came in the cereal boxes when I was a kid. Up, down, sideways. And there it was. There were words on the mirror. Almost invisible, and because of the light in the room I couldn’t see it unless I looked from an angle and even then the letters only faintly showed themselves against the reflection of my black t-shirt.

“Serve the Lord with all your heart and consider the great things He has done for you.” – 1 Samuel 12:24

Whoever stayed here before had scrawled this verse on the mirror with lipstick or some other oil based marker. The mirror had since been cleaned, yet at the right angle in the right light, the message remained.

This verse, in context, is the prophet Samuel exhorting the people of Israel during the coronation of King Saul. In his speech he reminds Israel of God’s faithfulness to them through every generation. From Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses and Aaron, God had remained faithful to them in spite of their sins and disobedience. Even their asking for a king was a sin against God, preferring a human leader instead of God as their King.

Samuel makes the point that even in their short-sighted and often stubborn disobedience, God’s love for them continues. Because God is faithful to Himself, He is faithful to them. Through it all, God did great things for them.

Back in 2008, I was starting life over from scratch in a new place and with a new sales job. I do dinner shows for people and sell high-end cookware. In following up on a contact, the girl on the other end of the phone asked me if I traveled to Snyder, Texas. I said, “I sure do.” Now, I’d never heard of Snyder let alone have a clue how far away it was. But when you’re starting over, you do whatever you have to do. That dinner generated my first customer in that area and led to more dinners which led to many more customers in Snyder, TX. And with each dinner God put me in front of some of the kindest, good-hearted, hospitable and encouraging people I’ve ever met.

When last year I was unsuccessful in my efforts to prevent my daughters’ mom from moving them away from me, I was incredibly discouraged. Instead of being 5 minutes across town, they would now be attending school 85 miles from me. I have equal time with my daughters, but how would it work? Where would I stay when I came to be with them? How would we have a place to be together?

Back in 2008 I thought Snyder was just the place God had me working for a season. I thought I was just meeting new people in the course of my job. I had no idea that He was preparing for what would happen to me two years later. God was preparing future relationships that He would use to encourage us in ways we could not imagine.

The mirror with the ghost writing is in a guest house in Snyder, Texas, the town in which my daughters attend school. It belongs to dear friends who started out as customers back in 2008. When I confided my situation to them last year, they said, “We have a place in our backyard. You and the girls can stay here anytime you want.”

“…and consider the great things He (God) has done for you.”

Is God aware of my plight? The ghost writer left behind the obvious answer to that question. “Consider the great things God has done for you.” God is more than aware. He is involved. His faithfulness toward us never ceases. His love toward us is constant. His attention to detail is complete. God, forgive me when I fail to consider the great things You have done for me. Give me eyes to see You and the works of Your hands in my life.

As much as I like things squeaky clean, I’m only going to Windex the bottom half of that mirror.

Some messages should never be erased.

Todd A. Thompson – ASliceOfLifeToGo.com

In a sentence…I have allowed my burden to become an idol.

For my readers who don’t know me, four years ago my spouse chose to walk away from our marriage. I didn’t want that. My daughters didn’t want that. We were (and continue to be) left bouncing in the wake of the consequences created by her decisions.

The burdens I’ve been carrying since; burdens of abandonment, betrayal, loneliness, starting life over from scratch without a network in a new state is but a short list of what has dominated my thoughts. Not to mention the constant fear she would again someday pick up and relocate our children again. I have allowed these burdens, by the amount of time spent fretting and obsessing over them, to become an idol. By definition, an idol is something to which time and devotion are paid. I have paid too much time and far too much attention to my burdens of the past four years. They have become idols at the expense of time and attention focusing on God’s sovereignty over my life.

Are my burdens real? Absolutely. I can’t begin to describe the profound loneliness of beginning life over in a place you never wanted to live where you know no one, leaving behind 14 years of deeply invested friendships, ministry, network, jobs and every good thing that feeds your soul. Add to that the burden of single parenting, a job God never intended in His original design of family, cover it all with a daily feeling of being “on the outside looking in” and it’s a small start in communicating what a head-banging process this has been.

My burdens are real. They are heavy. And they may not go away anytime soon. Yet in focusing on them, both knowingly and unknowingly, I have allowed these burdens to become an idol. Like a man examining a stain on his necktie, my vision has become myopic. I’ve become oblivious to the larger environment around me, the environment over which God is fully sovereign. Focusing on my burdens has created in me a spirit of fear. I’ve been waiting and worrying over the next bad thing that could happen instead of acknowledging God and His perfect love that casts out fear. To, even in one’s mind, relegate God in any way as subject to one’s circumstances is sin.

One would think a seminary graduate would have this figured out. But there is a big difference between head knowledge and heart assurance. At some point all of us will experience a life event that forces us to decide whether or not we will “own” our theology. When life is full of everything happy and circumstances are favorable, it’s easy to pay lip service to the goodness of God. When life kicks you in the head and takes away most or all of what you value, the question is unavoidable. Is God still good when life is not?

In the wake of my spouse walking away, my friend Jerry Sittser told me, “In God’s big-picture drama, people who walk out of your life are small players. As painful and horrible as this situation is, there is nothing anyone can do to thwart God’s purposes for your life. Or for the lives of your children.” This is a true statement. Yet in my pain I lost sight of this. God, in my mind, became subject to the decisions of my ex-spouse. Instead of rightly seeing God as in control of His universe (and mine) in the middle of my awful situation I viewed Him as subject to my rotten circumstances instead of sovereign over the details of my life.

Psalm 34 calls us to “magnify the Lord and exalt His name” and that in doing so God will “deliver us from all our fears.” In allowing my burdens to become an idol, I’ve done the opposite. In magnifying my fears I have minimized God. That in itself is grievous. Yet the arrogance of this sin is magnified by the irony that my spirit of fear has been cultivated while surrounded by God’s blessings. I’ve lamented to God the burden of moving to and surviving in a place where I knew no one, while across the room sits a cabinet full of customer files, every one of them a stranger until God brought them into my life. I’ve lamented to God the burden of leaving behind the bonds of an established church family, while the members and friends at Turning Point Church, many of whom don’t even know me that well, have consistently prayed for me and cared for my daughters as if they were their own. I’ve lamented to God my burden of loneliness, and in doing so treated God as if He hasn’t been here for every tear and every sleepless night.

While I’ve been guilty of treating God as though He is subject to my circumstances, true to form God has been incredibly patient and kind with me. He has, in ways big and small, used these same circumstances to remind and encourage me that He transcends everything I can see and imagine. He really does “cause all things to work together for good to those who love Him and are called according to His purpose”. After disappointments in my job, He surprises me with unexpected sales. Or sitting in church, missing all my friends and ministry in Arizona, a hand on my shoulder and a voice saying, “You’ve been on my heart a lot. Let me pray for you.” Or in moments of deeply felt insignificance someone saying, “Thanks for what you said in your sermon. God really used it in my life.” And even in ways far outside the box like a guy named Bob at Sam’s Club in Roswell, New Mexico who offers to pray for me while filling my car at the gas pump.

If I’d spent as much time looking for God in the details as I’ve spent focusing on my fears, how different would my life look?

So there you have it. My confession. And my resolution to stop living from a spirit of fear. God’s arm is not too short to save. There’s nothing that will happen in my life that He’s not already aware of. The fact that I am still here is proof of His provision. He promises to give me a hope and a future. He promises not to quit working on me. And He promises to “restore all the years that the locusts have eaten”. I have no idea how He will do that, but I look forward to seeing it.

In the meantime, my burdens may not get lighter. My situation may not change. It may get worse. But it doesn’t matter because God is on His throne. He loves me. I don’t know why. But He does. And His promises are bigger than my fearful circumstances.

Or as He says, “If I (God) am for you, who can be against you?”

Todd A. Thompson – ASliceOfLifeToGo.com

It’s bedtime. Past bedtime, actually. Being a bad Dad or good Dad, depending on your perspective, I had allowed Annie and Emma to finish watching the movie they had started.

Thankfully, my girls don’t fight sleep. Most nights it’s an easy transition from eyes open to eyes shut. In fact, Annie falls asleep faster than anyone I’ve ever known. If we had a “who’s out the fastest” contest between Annie and any light switch in your home, Annie would win every time. She falls asleep so quickly that if I have a question for her I have to ask while she is still vertical. Because a microsecond after her head hits the pillow, whatever it is has to wait till morning.

Emma, the other half of my twin tornadoes, has her own routine to ease into sleeping. She changes it up from night to night, but mostly variations on a theme.

“Daddy, tell me a story.”

“Daddy, I’m thirsty.”

“Daddy, …. ” followed by a pause as she quickly tries to think something up.

On this night they are tucked in. We’ve said our prayers. Annie is out in .047 seconds. Emma is laying on her back, hugging a purple pillow with her left arm. What will it be tonight? A request for a story? A glass of water?

“Daddy, my ice is big again.”

“My ice.”

I’ve been following their thought trails now for going on 10 years. I know them. But I’ve got no clue how to track this one.

“Emma, what are you talking about?”

“Ughhhhh!!! Daddy! Don’t you remember what you told me?”

Remember what? Ice? Huh? Maybe it’s true. Maybe parenting makes us slowly lose our mind so we can’t remember what we’ve said.

“Honey, I love you but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Emma is exasperated now. I’ve seen this look on her face before. It’s the “my point is so obvious that I can’t believe I have to explain this to you because you’re the grown up and you’re supposed to get it” face.

She sits up.

“Daddy, you told me! You said that every day is a new day and that any bad things are in the past. So 12 AM is a new day so my ice is big again! It’s big! You know…thick!”

Click.

Several days before Emma was pushing the limits and I warned her, “Emma Elizabeth, you better knock it off because you’re on thin ice.”

And several days prior to that incident was a discussion following her being disciplined. I had explained to her that what’s done is done, she received her discipline and that Daddy wasn’t angry with her because it was all over.

“It’s in the past, Emma. And every day is a new day.”

Midnight marks the new day. And with the new day, “thick ice” on which to skate.

Emma had connected the dots. I was astounded and humbled in this moment. God is at work in my daughter’s life.

Wow.

The prophet Jeremiah put it this way, “Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope; because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for Him.” (Lamentations 3:21-24)

We are God’s children. And from time to time we all skate on thin ice. Thanks to God’s mercy, His compassion never fails. He shows it to us in many ways, not the least of which is to give us “big ice” at the start of every new day.

Which, as Emma will tell you, starts at 12:00 AM. Or midnight. Whichever you prefer to call it.

Todd A. Thompson – ASliceOfLifeToGo.com

I go in hopes that Bob will be on duty.

It’s supposed to be a three hour drive from Lubbock to Roswell but it’s funny how the wide open spaces make 65 miles per hour appear so very slow and 75-80 miles per hour appear so very reasonable. On my first trip to Roswell last year I pulled into Sam’s Club to refuel. When I look up, the attendant is standing there. I’ve never seen an attendant at a Sam’s Club gas pump. Usually they are holed up in the little cinder block building watching TV. Yet here he stands. Baseball cap, mustache and the blue Sam’s Club vest with an I.D. badge pinned to it.

“I see by those Texas plates that you’re traveling somewhere. Is there anything you need prayer for?”

My first reaction is to look around. Isn’t that curious? Am I on camera? I’ve been to Wal-Mart and Sam’s Club more times than I can count. I expect low prices. I don’t expect their employees to pray for me.

I give Bob a closer look. He doesn’t look like a nut job. He looks normal. More importantly, he seems sincere. And with his question, definitely a cut to the chase kind of guy. I like that.

“Now that you ask, I sure do. It’s been a tough day and I could use all the prayer I can get.”

With no more small talk, Bob launched into a prayer. He prayed for me. For safe travel. For God’s intercession in the problems of my life. He asked God to bless me. Then he said, “Amen” and told me to drive safely before turning his attention to the next car.

As I opened my driver’s door I couldn’t see him but I heard him ask someone, “Is there anything you need prayer for?”

From that initial visit God has blessed me with a growing number of customers in Roswell. Wonderful, encouraging people and more reasons to return. Without fail, I always go to Sam’s to fill up my tank because I want Bob to pray for me. He prays for so many people that I’m not sure he even remembers that he’s prayed for me multiple times before. But it doesn’t matter. While the digits on the pump keep track of  the gallons and dollars and cents, Bob prays. He’s prayed for me, my kids, my safety in traveling, that God would intercede in circumstances beyond my control, and that God would bind the enemy from doing evil in those same circumstances. And every time I drive away blessed that someone cares. That someone has lifted me and my concerns up to God.

Though I can’t imagine why, not everyone wants prayer. I’ve seen people smile awkwardly and respond to Bob’s offer to pray for them with a, “Nope, I’m fine” or “I’m good, thanks.” But it doesn’t stop Bob from asking. And I bet it doesn’t stop Bob from praying. He will pray for the self-assured guy in the Chevy Avalanche anyway. Prayer doesn’t have to be loud to be effective. Who knows how many of these same people chalk up their good fortune or near misses to dumb luck, when in reality it was Bob’s silent prayers for them as they drove away that made the difference?

Roswell has plenty of good churches. We expect ministry to happen in church. That is as it should be. Yet I wonder if people realize that the gas pumps at Sam’s Club are a place where earth touches heaven? A place where problems and hurts and worries and fears are lifted up to God? A place where kind words and encouragement are spoken? A place where strangers are welcomed and cared for?

Who wouldn’t shop at a place like that?

Come to think of it, who wouldn’t go to a church like that?

And if our churches aren’t like that, why aren’t they like that?

We expect ministry to happen in church. That is as it should be.

Wherever we are and whatever we do, we can pray for others.

That is as it should be, too.

Be a Bob.

“Continue earnestly in prayer, being vigilant in it with thanksgiving…” – Colossians 4:2

Todd A. Thompson – ASliceOfLifeToGo.com

Rock piles.

Depending on the lay of the farmer’s land, before planting crops it’s sometimes necessary to harvest rock. The freezing of winter and the thawing of spring brings to the surface of the ground stones that were previously hidden. Some are hand-sized. An easy grab and pitch into a skid loader bucket or onto a flatbed trailer. Others require two hands, a knee bend and a strong back. And on rare occasion, one needs to be pulled out with a tractor and a log chain.

Say the phrase “pick rock” to any Iowa farm kid and they know exactly what you’re talking about.

The reason for picking rock is simple. Come harvest time you don’t want a field stone to go screaming through the internal gears of a John Deere combine that could be traded even up for one of your nicer homes in Scottsdale, Edina, or Lake Forest. So to avoid costly down time and expensive repairs, you walk the field and move the rock to an out of the way place.

My Uncle Ev and Aunt Katherine had a rock pile on their farm. We kids called it “The Mountain”. We played regularly on it. It seemed so big. Go back there now and it’s still there, a memorial to a literal century of hard work and successful farming. When we look at it, we remember.

Joshua 4 is one of my favorite accounts in the Bible. It’s where God rolls back the waters of the Jordan River to allow the people of Israel to walk across on dry ground. God instructs them to build a monument of 12 stones to mark the event. He had a specific reason. “…in the future, when your children ask you, “What do these stones mean?” tell them that the flow of the Jordan was cut off before the ark of the covenant of the Lord. When it crossed the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. These stones are to be a memorial to the people of Israel forever.” -(Joshua 4:6-7)

God knows that His humans have short memories. That’s why He wanted them to set up the 12 stones as a reminder of the miracle He did. That rock pile was for remembering the great work He had done for them.

This Thanksgiving season as I count my blessings, it occurs to me that I’ve done a lot of worrying this year. A lot of asking God why He seems so slow to respond in certain areas of my life. And if I’m honest, no small amount of doubt and anxiety. Wondering sometimes silently and sometimes in full voice, “God, are you gonna take care of me?”

The irony, of course, is that I’ve done my worrying and doubting and whining while sitting squarely on top my rock pile. Those stones of good health, food to eat, a place to live, a car to drive, healthy children, opportunities to earn a living, friends old and new, wonderful parents, a church family, and multiple moments of God’s grace and mercy, dropped into my life at a point of need and always above and beyond what I could ask or imagine.

What audacity. To sit atop my rock pile of blessings, lifetime proof of God’s faithful provision, and wonder if He will come through for me this time?

Perhaps there is more symbolism to the stones than I realize. Could it possibly be God’s inside joke of what a blockhead I can be?

God, please forgive my arrogance of distrusting You while surrounded by your tangible blessings. This Thanksgiving help me to be mindful that You are forever faithful, my Source and my Provider. When I wonder, when I doubt, remind me to look at the rock pile that You’ve built in my life and renew my faith and trust, because You are faithful and true.

Here’s hoping you take a good long look at your rock pile.

Happy Thanksgiving.

“The Lord is gracious and righteous; our God is full of compassion. The Lord protects the simplehearted; when I was in great need He saved me. Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the Lord has been good to you.” – Psalm 116:5-7

Todd A. Thompson – www.ASliceOfLifeToGo.com

432,000,000.

As in million. Lots of groups out there wanting peace.

There are the predictable, like the Peace Corps, Greenpeace and Peace for the Middle East. But there are some rather unique groups as well. There’s “Poetry for Peace”, perhaps bringing tranquility to the world through dynamic pentameter and Haiku. A group called “Blues For Peace”. On their website they paraphrase the Old Testament verse in Isaiah 2:4, “And they shall beat their swords into guitars.”

There are peace products, too. A “Peace Coffee” that promotes economic peace to the coffee bean growers. And a “Peace Cereal”. It’s an organic granola (big surprise there). 10% of every purchase goes to promote global harmony. This is a group in dire need of effective marketing strategy. If your goal is to raise money with breakfast cereal, you’re not gonna do it selling twigs and tree bark in a box. You need something laced with sugar. Get Tony the Tiger on your peace bandwagon and you’ll raise serious cash.

And did you know that you can purchase your very own peace symbol crafted from the original chain link fence they used at Woodstock back in 1969? Nothing like wearing a piece of pop culture history around your neck.

Being a farm boy from Iowa, my favorite was the “Pigs Peace Sanctuary”. A self-described “haven of love for pigs and their friends.” If you feel called you can even become a financial sponsor to one of the pigs on this 34 acre sanctuary in Washington state. According to their website, your dollars go toward the pig’s “medical care, healthy diet, permanent housing and socialization.” I grew up raising hogs. So the medical care, food and housing are a given. But socialization for pigs? What do they do? Hold therapy groups to talk through their resentment toward the cows? “Charlotte, pull up ‘und couch and tell me about your feelings toward Elsie…”

Peace. Maybe pigs get it. But we humans don’t.

In fact, if the history of civilization is any indication, we don’t have a corporate clue about what peace is. The Society of International Law, located in London, states that during the last 4,000 years there have been only 268 years of peace. During this period there have been 14,351 wars, large and small, in which 3.64 billion people have been killed. The value of the property destroyed would pay for a golden belt around the world 97.2 miles wide and 33 feet thick.

Moreover, in excess of 8,000 peace treaties were made–and broken. We talk a lot about peace, but we don’t do it well. We make peace treaties, then we break them.

But lack of peace isn’t limited to the battlefield. How’s the peace level around your house? Your workplace? Your heart? Your mind? Are you experiencing peace in your every day?

Finish this phrase… “If only I could get some peace and ______”.  Peace and quiet. It’s nice, isn’t it? For most of us, we equate peace with quiet. The absence of noise, distractions and conflict. But is genuine peace merely the absence of noise and conflict? Or is it something more?

I’ve always been intrigued by an account of Jesus and His disciples as recorded in Mark 4. At the end of a long, busy day Jesus said to His friends, “Let’s cross to the other side of the lake.” Leaving the crowds behind, they set sail. On the way a storm blew up. A squall big enough to send waves breaking over the boat; scary enough that hardened fishermen were afraid they might die.

Where is Jesus?

Asleep on a cushion in the back of the boat.

The disciples woke Him up to ask if He cared one way or the other if they drowned. Jesus told the wind to be quiet, which it did. Because when your Boss asks you to do something, it’s wise to obey.

Then He asked the disciples where their faith was. There’s a degree of frustration in Jesus’ question. Because if they can’t have faith when they’re in the same boat with Him, what happens when He’s not there?

As the disciples learned that night, peace isn’t the absence of storms. It’s the presence of Jesus in the middle of our storm. He’s sovereign over every circumstance. Bigger than the storm. Bigger than our fears.

Jesus, please help us to have faith. Your “peace that passes understanding” is what we want.

And while You’re at it, please teach us the trick of sleeping soundly in the back of the boat.

“Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” – Jesus (John 14:27)

Todd A. Thompson – www.ASliceOfLifeToGo.com

Just inside the door was a guest book inviting those who entered to sign and leave a note if they wished. Flipping through the pages I remembered why DFW is one of the world’s busiest airports. There were signatures from all over the globe.

Abu Dhabi. France. South Africa. Japan. Guatemala. China. And exotic places like Indiana, Iowa and South Dakota. Beside the name and address line was a space for people to leave a message. The notes inked on the page reminded me that wherever we live on the planet, life happens. Sometimes good and sometimes painful, but life happens everywhere.

Someone in Arkansas asked prayer for their Dad’s health. A passenger from Texas wanted prayer for success in their new job. A man from Cleveland, Ohio asked people to pray for wisdom and guidance. A Mom in Michigan asked people to pray for her son’s safety as a police officer. A woman from Wisconsin wrote joyfully with an exclamation point that she was off to a mission trip in China. “Christ Is King!”, she said.

A wife in Michigan wrote, “Please pray for my husband and father-in-law as they both deploy to Iraq on September 2nd. Oh, and for fertility issues.”

Sometimes life doesn’t just happen. Sometimes it piles on.

A mom from Texas used a black ball point pen to write, “My son drowned in a river in New Hampshire. I’ve just come back from seeing the river.” Peeking out from underneath the 3-ring binder was a copy of the eulogy handed out at her son’s funeral. His picture on the front and his life summed up on a single page. A twenty-something kid who made his living designing and making costumes for Shakespearean theaters around the country. 

Airlines take us places and airlines bring us home again. I wish it were as easy to lose our grief as it is for them to lose our luggage.

The last person to sign was a man from Israel. He said simply, “Thanks for providing a place of prayer.” I flipped back through the pages one more time, glancing at the names and addresses and requests. Men and women, a sampling of humanity across the globe, intersecting here in this international airport. Each stopping in this chapel long enough to pray and jot a brief request in hopes that someone might talk to God for them about the life that’s happening in their corner of the world.

I said a prayer for each and added my name to the list. Turning to leave, I thought about the people who might find their way to this room after my plane was gone. Is there a message I’d like to leave them?

Life’s a real head banger no matter where we live. What keeps any of us going? Only the thought that there has to be a purpose behind the pain. That somehow God, in spite of what we see, knows what He’s doing. On my worst days, that can be a stretch to believe. On my better days, my faith sees dimly. Thankfully, God’s faithfulness isn’t dependent on how my day is going.

I wrote to encourage myself as much as anyone else.

“Hold tight to your faith…God can be trusted.”

“Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for He (God) who promised is faithful.” - Hebrews 10:23

- Todd Thompson    www.ASliceOfLifeToGo.com

Back in the day, a child’s Christmas wishing started in mid-October when the JC Penney and Sears Christmas catalogs hit the mailbox. I can still remember tearing off the brown paper sleeve, giddy to see the treasures inside. Kids could instinctively open it to the exact page where the toys started. Lots of time was spent anticipating and dreaming about the gift you wanted. You knew that the Hot Wheels Supercharger race track was on page 298, Item B. By day you dropped hints to Mom and Dad, the subtlety decreasing in proportion to the available shopping days till Christmas. By night you’d fall asleep thinking about what it would be like to see and hear those cars fly around the orange plastic track. Which car would be faster? The Lola GT-70 or the Beatnik Bandit?

And if you were lucky enough to tear off the snowflake wrapping paper and see the present you wished for? There’s no way to describe the joy of holding in your hand what you’ve hoped for in your heart.

Anticipation. We anticipate Christmas. The looking forward. The wondering and dreaming. That hopeful, can’t wait, edge of your seat, can’t sit still, counting the days feeling of expectation.

Christmas is about anticipation.

The anticipation of Christmas contains a blessing. The blessing is that it is a set date on the calendar. Every year, December 25th. Whether it’s 2007 or 2017, Christmas is always on December 25th. If it’s June, you know you have to wait another six months. If it’s December 15th, then it’s ten days away. Only so much time to finish one’s shopping. Only so many days to be certain the packages you mail arrive in time for the holiday. Part of what makes anticipating Christmas exciting, and tolerable, is that we have a definite day to celebrate. A definite day and date we can point to in the future and wave goodbye to on the 26th. Even in the anticipation, there is closure. Christmas will come and we know what day it will arrive.

But what if there was the promise of Christmas and no set date? What if there was the promise of Christmas but no December 25th? Just a “trust me, it’s coming. You don’t know when and you can’t make party plans or put it on your calendar or hang your stockings by the chimney with care…but trust me, Christmas is coming”. How would that change our thinking? How would we feel about Christmas if we had only the promise and no date to actually celebrate?

That was the reality of a man named Simeon. A promise from God that Christmas was coming, but no date on the calendar. A promise that he would live to see it happen, but no heads up as to when it would be. Simeon was a man standing in the shadows of Christmas, anticipating Christmas and quite possibly living everyday with that hopeful, can’t wait, edge of your seat, can’t sit still, counting the days feeling of expectation.

The Bible says that Simeon was promised by God that he “would not see death until he had seen the Lord’s Christ”. Luke 2 describes him as a “righteous and devout man who was looking for the consolation of Israel”. Which means he was looking for the Messiah.

Imagine the questions Simeon must have had. How will I recognize this Messiah? If I get to live until I see it does it mean I’ll die immediately when I do? Is there any chance I could miss it? Any chance I would not recognize Him? One thing was for certain. It would mean waiting. Maybe a long time of waiting.

Anticipation.

For all of us, life is full of waiting and wondering. We wait on job opportunities and wonder if and when they will become reality. We wait for a doctor’s diagnosis of our illness and wonder what the prognosis will be. We wait for grades to be posted and wonder if we passed the test. We wait as our children grow up and wonder if our parenting will help them become the responsible godly individuals we hope for.

And it’s the wondering that makes the waiting difficult. Because we’re wondering about what we don’t yet know. We’re wondering about that which has yet to be revealed. What we want is to hear the doctor say, “Recovery will take 6 weeks, but you’re going to be fine.” We want to hear, “You still have to finish the last four months of school, but your GPA is good enough to get you into college.” We want to hear, “You’ve got 10 more years of challenging child raising years to go, but your kids are going to turn out great.” It’s easier to wait when you know the end result.

Yet the Bible says we walk by faith, not by sight. The fact is you and I stand in the shadows much of our lives. We walk by faith while we wait and wonder. Even Simeon, with God’s promise in his back pocket, had to had to walk by faith while he waited and wondered.

What are you waiting and wondering about?

Like the excited child wound tighter than the stripes on a candy cane, we think we can’t stand another moment of anticipation. Christmas just has to get here!

And it does.

In a moment of awe and surprise, Simeon’s waiting and wondering go out with a bang. The Messiah is…a baby. Mary and Joseph, teenage parents with reindeer in the headlights looks, hand their baby over to Simeon for what should have been a routine circumcision. But nothing has been routine for this Mom and Dad. Angelic visitations, getting pregnant without having sex, giving birth in a stable, shepherds with stories of angel armies singing about their Son. And now this old man of a priest looking to the heavens saying, “Now, Lord, let your servant die in peace. For mine eyes have seen Your salvation which has been prepared in the presence of all people.”

Something happens when you hold a baby. You realize that life is not all about you. At no time in history was this truth more evident than when Simeon held the baby Jesus. Holding the Savior of the world in your arms will put life in perspective. The waiting and wondering for Simeon is over. For Mary and Joseph, the wondering has just begun.

Whatever it is you’re waiting for and wondering about, keep anticipating. Your wait may be long. Or it may be brief. But God always delivers on His promises. Christmas came for Simeon. It will come for you, too.

And when it does…

There’s no way to describe the joy of holding in your hand what you’ve hoped for in your heart.

“Simeon took the Child in his arms, blessed God and said, “Now Lord, let your bondservant depart in peace. For my eyes have seen Your salvation which has been prepared in the presence of all people. A light of revelation to the Gentiles and the glory of Your people Israel.” – Luke 2:28-32 

I’d be on a plane to Chicago before you could say “deep dish pizza”.

Several years ago I had opportunity to attend a preaching/teaching conference at Willow Creek Church with my friend and pastor Duane Cross. When it was over we had some time before catching our plane back to Phoenix. So we drove downtown to the Art Institute of Chicago. My favorite place in my favorite city. One of the world’s best collections of classic art. Monet, Van Gogh, Rembrandt, and Picasso all under one big roof.

I actually got misty seeing the lion statues that guard the entrance to the museum. Perhaps you have a place you go to that is good for your soul. The Art Institute of Chicago is good for my soul.

Keep in mind that when it comes to art, I can’t draw a straight line if you spot me a ruler. So I’m sure I can’t appreciate the complexity and genius of these masterpieces the way a true artist would. But I go and stand in front of them and am moved by them just the same.

We had limited time. Duane asked me what I most wanted to see. I told him that if all we did was go and stare at Seurat’s “Sunday Afternoon”, it would be worth the trip. It’s my absolute favorite.

Seurat, a mere 25 years old when he painted this defining work, had spent previous years studying theories of light. The painting technique that he employed was based on those theories. Unlike the broader brush strokes of mixed colors that other Impressionist painters used, Seurat developed a new technique called “pointellism”. Or, as he preferred to describe it, “divisionism”.

As to size, it is a huge painting – the canvas stretches 7 feet x 10 feet. This masterpiece took 2 years to complete. From a distance what you see is the picture. The images of the people enjoying their Sunday afternoon on the Sienne River in France. What you don’t see from a distance is that the entire painting is made up of tiny dashes and dots of pure color paint.

For the first year, Seurat painted nothing but horizontal dashes. The dashes are each one detached from the others. Then he added the dots of pure color paint. As you might imagine, this was a tedious and exacting process. The project was so intense that during the two years it took him to paint it, Seurat refused to have lunch with his close friends lest they distract him and break his concentration.

Up close, the dashes and dots look like, well…dashes and dots. Yet as you step back from the painting to a distance, the dashes and dots combine optically in your eye to form the desired image.

For two years, nothing but days and days of dashes and dots.

Dashes and dots.

How could dashes and dots make a picture? It doesn’t make sense that detached horizontal dashes and dots of paint can combine to make a masterpiece.

But they do.

What are the dashes and dots of your life? What of those thousands of detached horizontal lines of seemingly disconnected events? When you step back are they really all that disconnected? When you step back far enough can you see how God has painted them in such a way that they form the picture of your life?

Was it really chance that you took that job in a different city? Was it just coincidence that you met that certain person? Was the career you felt trapped in really a waste of time? Was the serious illness really a stand alone event that led nowhere? Was the tragedy in your life the end of a dream? Or was God preparing you for something bigger?

Standing less than a foot away from Seurat’s “Sunday Afternoon” and staring at the canvas, you think, “No way does this make a picture. It’s just dashes and dots of paint. No rhyme, no reason, no pattern.” And up close, you’d be right. It looks like one big random mess.

Only when you step back does it begin to make sense. 5 feet. 10 feet. 15 feet. 20 feet. And then the random mess becomes a beautiful Sunday afternoon picnic.

Friends, if you’re like me, you might in the middle of a mess that makes no sense. All you see are dashes of dread and dots of pain. You want to make sense of it but you can’t. Not right now. We’re too close to see what God is painting. This close it’s just dashes and dots. The disappointments and heartbreaks, how can these be part of a beautiful picture?

With brush strokes of grace, God the Artist makes sense of our dashes and dots. Let’s remember to step back from time to time to see how He is bringing them together into the beautiful picture that is our life. Because whether we see it or not, He’s doing exactly that.

God promises to continue perfecting the good work that He began in us. Which is to say He will continue dashing and dotting until the masterpiece is complete.

“For we know that all things work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purpose.” – Romans 8:28

“For I am confident that He (God) who began a good work in you will continue to perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 1:6

“Grandpa, I don’t want to be 4. I want to stay 3.”

“Why is that?”

“Because after you turn 4, then you turn 5.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Because when you turn 5 you go to kindergarten and they make you spell hippopotamus…and I don’t know how!”

We’ve all been there. The unknown. We look ahead. We wonder. We worry. What waits for us? Will we be ready? Are we up to the challenge? Little Nathan was doing the “double jump ahead”; fearing an unknown twice removed from his present moment. We laugh at the story because we’ve done it, too.

President Calvin Coolidge said, “If you see ten troubles coming down the road, you can be sure that nine will run into the ditch before they reach you.” The wisdom being “don’t borrow trouble”. While President Coolidge’s advice is comforting, if you’re like me, instead of being relieved that nine troubles are dead in a ditch, you worry like crazy about the one trouble that will end up making the trip. What will it be? What will it look like? How will it affect me? We “what if?” ourselves into a tizzy.

What if…?

What if…?

What if…?

Allowed to run unchecked, our minds are masterful at creating imaginary crisis. Yet unless we’re terribly neurotic or boringly rich, rarely do we sit around and manufacture crisis out of thin air. Our worry usually stems from genuine present moment troubles. That one trouble that makes it down the road to our door. A chronic health problem. Financial pressure. An unstable job situation. A teenager running away with their desire for independence. A relationship that’s headed for the point of no return. These troubles are all very real.

I’ve been battling worry a lot lately. With due respect to President Coolidge, I have one or two or twenty troubles right now that ignored the ditch and are parked in my driveway. They don’t look like they’re moving on anytime soon. I’d like to say I’ve handled my worries well. But it’s been paralyzing at times.

So what to do?

I’m learning. Slowly, painfully, tearfully, imperfectly. I’m learning what God is trying to teach me about worry.

And trust.

“Todd, here’s the deal…

I told you that I’ll never leave you or forsake you. Others may have promised that and bailed, but I’m not them. I’m Me. I’m God. And I am not a man that I should lie. Simply put, you’re never alone. Ever. You might feel like you are, but you’re not.

Next, you need to understand that I understand your worries and your fears. I know that life is hard. I’ve never sugar coated that. “Many are the afflictions of the righteous” is how I put it in Psalm 34. You’re living in a broken world. Being a Christian doesn’t make you immune from that. Your problems are real. That is not lost on Me.

You need to understand something else. And it may not make sense to you. But everything that happens in your life, good and bad, passes through My sovereign hand. If I allow it, I have a reason for it. That doesn’t mean I cause bad things. It means I work all things, even the bad things, for good in your life. There are no loose ends in your life not connected to my perfect purpose.

You’ve asked me a few times, “Why am I allowing this @#$% to happen?” It’s a fair question. If I love you, why don’t I spare you? You might not like this, either. But there’s more at stake here than your present circumstances. See, I care more about your character than your comfort. I need you to come to grips with your faults, the things you need to change for your good and My glory. I need you to learn to trust Me with the injustices in your life. I need you to go through this. Not around it. The hard stuff, the pain, it’s all part of the process of making you like Jesus. 

And you have no idea how committed I am to that process. Does the phrase, “never stop this side of heaven” ring a bell?

I know heaven seems far away right now. That’s why I need you to believe Me when I say take life one day at a time. Don’t worry about tomorrow. Each day has enough trouble of its own. The things you need, I’ll provide. I promise. It’s about depending on Me every day. That’s why Jesus called it “our daily bread”.  Just do the next thing in front of you and trust me. Don’t waste your time on the “what if’s” about tomorrow. I’m already there. And I’m working in ways you can’t see or understand.

So keep talking to Me. All the time. It’s the best thing you can do. Don’t polish it, don’t edit it. Don’t spiritualize it. Just bring it. The angst. The tears. The passion. The needs. Just bring it. Your worries plus you equals fear. Your worries plus Me equals peace. And my peace passes all understanding.

Whether your circumstances get better or worse…and yes, they could get worse, remember that nothing separates you from My love. Come hell or high water, I love you. I’m for you. Do I need to state the obvious?

If God is for you, who can be against you?

I’m for you.

So keep going.”

- God

Before there was a universe with galaxies and black holes and white hot stars, there was God.

God filled this nothingness and there was no void, because God is all God needs. He is complete in and of Himself. He is in the best sense of the word completely and rightly self-absorbed in His perfection. Perfectly extreme and perfectly balanced. He is eternal perfection. Satisfied in Himself.

This perfect God, for reasons we may never know and if we could know would not understand, decided to create. He created the heavens. Space beyond our wildest imagination. He created day and night; the blazing sun and the reflective moon. He hung stars in the sky like so many lights on a celestial Christmas tree. He created the earth with layered atmosphere, expansive seas, and dry land. He made vegetation of every type. he made fish to fill the seas and animals to inhabit the dry land. Birds He made to soar and sing. He gave order and boundaries and His creation was a reflection of His perfect and wonderful nature.

Then God created man and woman. “Male and female He created them in His own image.” That’s what the Bible says. He created man and woman with physical bodies and spiritual souls, and He placed eternity in their hearts. A “God space” as someone has described it. A place in our hearts that only He can fill.

God created human beings to have a relationship with Him. A relationship of mutual love and joyful hearts. Not that God needed the company. He wasn’t lonely. Remember, God is all God needs. God created man and woman because He wanted to.

Unique to man and woman, God gave the freedom to choose. He gave them a will. He clearly drew generous loving boundaries of obedience that would maximize the joy and satisfaction of His creation.

Sadly, man and woman made a poor decision and disobeyed. It altered the relationship between human kind and God. It broke God’s heart.

Even if they wanted to; these humans were incapable of fixing the problem they created for themselves. It was up to God. And God doesn’t need to fix anything. He is everything in Himself. Perfection. God didn’t need those people who broke His heart.

He wanted them.

Man and woman’s disobedience, their sin, forced them to leave the beautiful garden they had enjoyed. Still, even though they left their garden, they were still under God’s sovereign umbrella. They could go to the ends of His earth and still they would be under His sovereign umbrella.

God is perfect in every way, including His commitment to His creation. Not one to walk away from a project, God is perfect in His faithfulness to His people. The path for His humans would be radically different than His original design, with lasting difficult consequences for His creation, yet God is sovereign. He will accomplish what He set out to do.

God, in His mercy, remained committed to His creation, including man and woman. He set in place a redemptive plan that would unfold over the course of human history. A plan to redeem that which humankind made a mess of. And in the process, He taught them about love and discipline, about faithfulness and forgiveness, justice and mercy, all the while pleading with His children to find their fulfillment in Him.

Along the way God sent messages to His people. Beautiful messages. Love letters, you might say. Letters scented with the fragrance of a jealous love. “Please return to Me. I’m all you’ll ever need. I love you. I’ll always love you.”

The message was always the same. Though He sent it in different ways. Sometimes He said “I Love You” in billowy cloud. Sometimes in a pillar of fire. Sometimes He dropped food from the sky and turned rocks into fountains of cold clear water. He parted seas and rivers for them and drowned their enemies. He gave and gave and gave, even though they rarely gave back.

God’s heart was broken many times. His lover was very fickle. One moment they pledged with passionate resolve their love to Him forever. The next moment they were flirting with gods who spelled their name with a small “g”. Sometimes they denied Him altogether.

Yet God is also perfect in His persistence. He never quits. It’s as if their stubborn refusals only fueled His love. God was determined to get His message across; “I love you and in Me alone will you find your satisfaction.”

“I love you. I always will. No matter what. There’s nothing you can do to change that. You can run away, but I’ll be looking for you to return. You can sin against Me and break my heart, but I’ll forgive you if you’ll just ask Me to. I don’t want your sacrifice. I don’t want your lousy 10%. I want you. All of you. Because I want all of you to experience all of Me. That your joy might be complete. For I am the great I AM. I am your God.”

That, in paraphrase form, is the Old Testament message of God’s love for us.

God’s message has not changed in thousands of years. He still pleads with His children to put their trust in Him. To find their joy and satisfaction in Him alone. To return to their first love. God is still jealous and forever creative in communicating His heart’s desire.

Friend, the fact is God loves you unconditionally. You can run away if you choose. Wherever you stop you will find Him waiting for you. You can hide. Wherever you hole up you will find Him with you. You can ignore Him, yet He will never stop paying attention to you. 

You are the object of His affection. He loves you with a loyal love that will not let you go.

Ever.

“For God so loved the world, that He gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send the Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world should be saved through Him.” – John 3:16-17

There are other players in the Christmas drama that you don’t find in the nativity scene. These are significant, yet lesser known characters. People standing in the shadows of Christmas. The Bible talks about two of them. An elderly man named Zechariah and his wife Elizabeth.

Zechariah was a priest. Elizabeth was a godly woman. Though they were both faithful servants of the Lord, they were advanced in years and unable to have children. To be childless in the Jewish faith was a disgrace. It meant no chance for you to be parents of the promised Messiah.

Imagine what that must have been like for Zechariah and Elizabeth. In our modern technology we know all kinds of reasons for infertility. Back then they didn’t have a clue about blocked Fallopian tubes or endometriosis or low sperm counts. We know from the text that it was Elizabeth that couldn’t have children. But all Zechariah and Elizabeth knew, and all that their neighbors knew, was that they were a couple who had asked God for children for a very long time and didn’t have any.

They lived in the hill country of Judea. A small town. Small towns are a blessing because everyone knows you. Small towns are a curse because everyone knows you. You can bet this couple was a the topic of more than a few dinner table discussions over the decades. “Zach is such a good guy. And a priest, too. I wonder why he and Liz don’t have kids?” It was a burden Zechariah and Elizabeth felt everyday.

As it happened, on the biggest day of Zechariah’s professional life, an angel of the Lord appears with a news bulletin. Elizabeth is going to have a baby. A son named John. He will be great in the eyes of God, one filled by the Holy Spirit. One who will “prepare the way of the Lord.”

To Zechariah, this is too good to be true. Oh, he wants to believe it. But he reminds the angel Gabriel of the obvious. He’s an old man. Elizabeth is an old woman. Gabriel in turn reminds Zechariah of the obvious; this message comes on orders from God Himself. And Gabriel should know because he was standing right there when God said it.

In a round about way, old Zach was asking for a sign. And he got one. A loving rebuke. He would be unable to speak until the baby was born.

Just as the angel had said, Elizabeth became pregnant.

Zechariah and Elizabeth prayed for years to have children. God answered them at a most unexpected time. His answer was more than an answer. It was an invitation to participate in God’s drama.

In your prayers, are you asking God for the desires of your heart? Are you prepared that His answer will be more than an answer? That His answer will include your playing a role in His plan for the world? God loves you more than you can imagine. Whether you realize it or not, God has an appointed role for you in His divine drama.

In spite of the fact that Zechariah doubted the angel’s message, God went ahead with His plan to bless. God is not discouraged by our doubts. He sticks with us and lovingly convinces us that we are of infinite value and significance.

Standing in the shadows of Christmas are ordinary people. People like Zechariah and Elizabeth. And Mary, God’s chosen to be the mother of Jesus. We know by reading Luke 1 that Mary spent three months living with Elizabeth and Zechariah. It takes us but a moment to read the passage. Yet what were those three months like for them?

For three months, one particular house in the hill country of Judea was home to three of the most incredulous people in the history of the world. Zechariah…an elderly priest whose once in a lifetime career moment was one-upped by an angel delivering a sneak preview of a birth announcement that left the holy man literally speechless. Elizabeth…an old woman who has rocked in her chair and read her Bible everyday for decades while gazing down the hall at the nursery she never got to use, but is now placing orders with Babies-R-Us.  Mary…a poor teenage peasant girl but by the favor of God Himself, richer than any palace queen.

How many discussions did they have about angelic visitations? About the miracle of becoming pregnant by a husband on Medicare? Or becoming pregnant completely apart from being intimate with a man? What was it like to try and interpret Zechariah’s sign language?

Three surprised people in the same house for three months. Absorbed in their personal wonder yet unable to escape the Divine momentum pulling them beyond themselves into world changing history. An old woman and a teenage girl sympathizing in one another’s morning sickness. A dumbstruck old man writing furiously on a piece of paper trying desperately to keep up his end of a conversation about the reality of angels.

And at the end of the day, two expectant mothers lying down to sleep, running one hand in a slow circle over their womb, filling the darkness with their silent prayers and questions.

Three of God’s chosen together for three months in a simple Judean home. Thankful they are not alone in their miracles and their visions. Scared about the timing and thrilled about the nearness of their God. Three very humble, unknown, and incredibly significant people.

If those walls could speak, what a story they would tell.
 
What is your story this Christmas? Are you asking God to break through your doubts with His blessings? Are you still waiting for an answer to prayers you’ve prayed for years? Are you prepared for an answer that is more than an answer? Are you prepared for God to use you to accomplish His plan?

God cares. Human obstacles of age and time and circumstance make no difference to Him. Or, in the words of the angel Gabriel, “nothing is impossible with God.” (Luke 1:37)

If you feel this season that you are standing in the shadows of Christmas, remember this…

God has not forgotten you. Joy and gladness await you in His perfect time.

“Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. The Lord, the Lord, is my strength and my song; He has become my salvation.” – Isaiah 12:2

Several days ago I was taking some pictures and was able to photograph a honeybee burrowing into one of my Midas Touch roses. She hovered then disappeared into the center of the flower. I say “she” because all worker bees are female. (I know. That’s a great straight line for any female readers. Have fun with the punch lines, but please be kind to the men in your life.) After a couple minutes she moved on to another flower, carrying a load of pollen.

Individually, a honeybee is fascinating to observe. But the results of their corporate effort are astounding.

The average American consumes 1.3 pounds of honey per year. If we round it down to an even pound, what must honeybees do to produce one pound of honey?

According to the Texas A&M Department of Entomology, an average hive contains up to 50,000 bees. On a warm to hot day, half the worker bees go out to gather pollen and nectar. The other half of the bees stay inside the hive and have the job of providing the air conditioning. A honeybee’s wings move at approximately 11,400 strokes per minute, hence the “buzz” you hear. Thousands of bees moving their wings at such speed actually causes the temperature inside the hive to be about 10 degrees cooler than it is outside.

The bees rotate duties. Bees that cool the hive one day are gatherers the next. To make one pound of honey, worker bees must collect nectar from 2 million flowers. 2 million flowers! And in collecting the nectar for that one pound of honey, they fly a combined 55,000 miles. That’s one and a half times around the world. All to make just one pound of honey.

Since the average worker bee makes about 1/12th of a teaspoon of honey in her lifetime, it’s pretty clear that honeybees are better together than they are alone. Alone they can’t produce enough honey to flavor a cup of tea. Together, they take care of themselves and in the process produce enough honey for everyone in the country to have a jar in the pantry.

A healthy beehive is full of bees, honey, honeycomb and activity. What you won’t find in a bee hive is ego. Be they queen bee, drones or workers, all the insects do their job. The bee in the photograph had a hive to go back to at night because 25,000 co-workers stayed behind to protect it and keep it cool. The honey she produced was a team effort.

As humans, we tend to think of our accomplishments as individual in nature. Yet be assured, wherever you are today and whatever position you’ve attained, you didn’t get there on your own. There are no self-made men. No self-made women.

If you’re a top notch sales manager you wouldn’t be noticed without the reps on your team consistently putting up great numbers.

If you’re a respected teacher you owe something to the elementary teacher who taught you to read.

If you’re a scholar, you earned your PhD and contributed to the body of collective knowledge only after reading the works of the masters. Or, as Toynbee put it, “we see farther when standing on the shoulders of giants”.

If you’re a master mechanic, you likely attribute some of your skills to your Dad who let you slide under the Chevy on the creeper and watch him turn a wrench.

If you’re a good parent, you owe something to those older and wiser who cared enough to impart their wisdom and life experience from raising their own kids.

Above all, you and I owe everything to a gracious God whose faithfulness is great and whose mercies are new every morning. (Lamentations 3:21-23)

Wherever we are and whatever we achieve is due to our hard work, persistence and the contributions of others in our life. Alone, we are, well…alone. Together we accomplish great things. We are better together.

This week take time to reflect on the people who have contributed significantly to your life. Then write a note of thanks to them or give them a call and tell them specifically what they did for you and what you learned from them. In doing so you’ll encourage them beyond measure.

Because no one ever forgets hearing these sweet words:

“You made a difference in my life.”

It’s dry in the desert. That’s why they call it a desert. On a good year, the Phoenix valley receives only 7″ of rain. This hasn’t been a good year. Until God turned on the faucet last Saturday, it had been 143 days in a row with no rain. The last time water fell from the sky was October 18th. My twins’ birthday. When you’re 5, not seeing something for 143 days can make you forget you ever knew what it was. Annie looked out the window with disbelief and asked, “Daddy, is that rain?”

Rain here is a tease. Sometimes it’s spotty. It might be pouring buckets at your friend’s house a half mile away while you’re washing your car under sunny skies. Rain is especially fickle here during monsoon season. It’s a seasonal weather pattern of hot, moist air that blows up from Mexico during July and August. You see the clouds form in the late afternoon and you think it’s finally going to pour. More often than not, all you get is a dust storm; a wall of wind whipped dirt followed by 12 drops of rain on your windshield. A little mud in your eye as it laughs going away.

Saturday was not a tease. It really rained. The clouds rolled into town, took off their coats and stayed awhile. In a place where the sun shines 330 days a year, a day like this is more than a treat. It’s an event not to be missed. Gray skies. The steady sounds of water dripping off bougainvillea leaves onto the sidewalk. The splash of tires rolling through puddles. The smell of water in the air. The feel of raindrops on your face. The sight of accumulated dust and grime being washed away clean.

I worked the Suns game that Saturday night. Fans came through the doors from the parking garage and the street, coats damp and dripping, no one complaining. When you’ve been dry and dusty for five months, you welcome the shower. Wet rubber soles squeaked on the floor and folks stopped to wipe off their glasses before moving along the concourse. It was easy to see the rain made people happy. It had been 143 days. Now the wait was over. The rain came.

Waiting.

We do a lot of waiting.

In Phoenix, we wait for rain. In Seattle, they wait for sunshine. We all wait in line at the grocery store. Some waiting is expected. No one in their right mind ever goes to the Social Security office or the Department of Motor Vehicles expecting to be in and out in five minutes. Some waiting we plan for.

It’s waiting when we didn’t plan to wait that is the hardest.

Like waiting for a job when we’ve been unemployed two months after the savings runs out. Waiting for the doctor to say this round of chemo therapy finally worked. Waiting for a baby to place in the nursery that’s been ready, and empty, for years. Waiting for that estranged relationship to be reconciled.

This is the waiting that exasperates and exhausts us. And if we’re honest, it is a waiting that frustrates and angers us. Because deep down, whether we admit it or not, we realize we’re waiting on God. He could do something about it if He wanted to. So why doesn’t He? Why doesn’t He do something? Anything to show us a glimpse of forward progress?

Most of the time we want our waiting to be over because we’re ready for a change of scenery. We want to be delivered from our immediate circumstances. All we can see is what’s in front of us. God has a different vantage point. He sees the big picture.

Though it pains me to say it, our waiting may be God’s working.

Abraham was an old and childless man when God promised him a son. If it was a hilarious thought that at 75 years old Abraham would be shopping for bottle warmers and a bouncy seat, then it was beyond incredible for him to be in the delivery room at age 100. But that’s what happened. God promised Abraham a son. And delivered on His promise 25 years later. They named him Isaac. It means “laughter”. Being a new dad when you’re 100 is pretty funny.

We can read the account in the book of Genesis and we can wonder about the wait. But God must have had His reasons. Albert Baylis put it this way,

“It appears God wants to do more with Abraham than drop promises on him. Abraham had received an irrevocable promise from God. But being God’s candidate for blessing is not a trip to Disneyland. Because God is going to bless Abraham, he’s going to make him into a man of faith. Because He is going to make Abraham a blessing, God will take whatever time is necessary. And God has never let time bother Him.”

Time bothers us. But it doesn’t bother God.

If you’re waiting, know that God is working. It’s ok to yell and scream about it. It’s ok to wonder how and why. The Bible is full of people who, in the middle of their dry dust wait, threw up their questions to God. No worries. He is big enough to handle them. You may not get the answers you like. You may not get answers at all. But this much is true. God always delivers on His promises. In His time and in His way. And always for your good and His glory.

Hang in there.

The rain is coming.

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.” – Proverbs 13:12

“The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the person who seeks Him.” – Lamentations 3:25

“When ya’ got one foot in yesterday and the other foot in tomorrow, yer’ pissin’ all over today.”

Cowboy vernacular aside, that’s the truth. Too often we’re paralyzed by a past we can’t change and fret over a future we can’t control. The word is “worry”. And if you’re anything like me, you do it way too much. Worry is like a rocking chair. It gives us something to do, but it doesn’t get us anywhere. Worry is counter-productive and won’t add a single minute to our lives. In fact, if medical studies are accurate, worry may well shorten our life.

Worry is associated with stress. And stress is associated with elevated adrenaline levels in our body. In God’s design, adrenaline is for emergencies; for crisis situations that demand a “fight or flight” response. But in our western culture we’ve made “emergencies” out of many routine situations. So much so that many of us live each day as though we are on an adrenaline drip. When we continually spend a dollar’s worth of adrenaline on ten cent problems, our minds and bodies pay a price.

Our heads may know that worry is an exercise in futility. But honestly, when life presses in and puts the squeeze on, a Hallmark card telling us to “take life one day at a time” isn’t all that comforting. Maybe you’re worried about your kids. Maybe it’s a chronic health problem that has worn you to a frazzle. Maybe it’s a bad church experience that has left you wondering how to sort the truth from the trappings. Maybe your career has lost its luster and you’re wondering what to do with your life. Maybe you’re experiencing a loneliness of the soul that cannot be expressed. Maybe you’re grieving the loss of a friend or family member. Whatever worries you, weighs on you.

This past week I found myself worrying a lot. The usual pressures of life were magnified a bit. I found myself at odds with Jesus’ practical advice. “Don’t worry about tomorrow. Tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of it’s own.” (Matthew 6:34) When I thought about my attitude and my worry, there was only one conclusion. I wasn’t trusting that God would take care of me.

So this is what I did. I encourage you to do it, too. Right now. Grab any piece of paper in front of you and for 60 seconds (no longer) write down as many blessings in your life as you can think of. Don’t ponder them and don’t edit your list. Just write as many as you can as fast as you can. Ready? Go.

Now flip the paper over. On this side take 60 seconds (no longer) to write down as many worries as you can. Whatever’s weighing heavy on your head and heart, jot it down. Ready? Go.

When you’re finished, look at your list of blessings and ask yourself this question: “Is there anything on this list that I have ever worried about in some form or fashion?”

I bet there is. My list of blessings was loaded with items that I’d worried about at one time or another. Not the least of which are my children, Annie and Emma are my biggest blessings. For years I worried that I’d never have opportunity to be a Dad. I was finally coming to grips with the fact that God in His sovereignty may have decided that parenthood wasn’t part of the plan for me. Then out of the blue God said, “Ok. You think I’ve been really slow in responding. It’s go time now. You better buckle up because we’re going to go really fast.” And we did. From zero kids to two kids in 23 days.

The point is, if the items on our blessing list used to be on our worry list, then it’s tangible proof that God takes care of us. On His timetable and in His way, yet tangible proof that God can be trusted with the details of our lives.

There is a piece of Jewish wisdom that goes like this, “Do not worry over tomorrow’s evils, for you know not what today will bring forth. Perhaps tomorrow you will not be alive and you will have worried for a world that will not be yours.” Whatever stress you’re staring at this week, start by getting both feet in today. There’s enough trouble to kick around without borrowing trouble from a tomorrow that may not come.

Oh, and remember…God will take care of you. Those items on your blessing list that used to be on your worry list are proof of that.

“Don’t worry.”

Easy to say. Hard to do.

Hard to do because life is hard. When we’re consumed with worry, we’re not living the kind of life God desires for us.

In Matthew 6:25-34 Jesus explains why worry isn’t in our best interest and why God can be trusted to take care of every detail of our lives.

(Presented to Hope Covenant Church – Chandler, AZ – 2/5/2006 )   

“No, Annie. You’re five now. Happy Birthday!”

For weeks Annie and Emma have been talking about how they would soon be five years old. Now that the day is here, they seem a tiny bit wistful pondering that being five means they are no longer four. I understand that. We look forward to arriving and when we do we can’t help but look back.

Driving them to pre-school, we stop at Fry’s Grocery to buy some cookies to share with their classmates. Annie and Emma announce to the checkout clerk that today is their birthday and they are now five years old.

“Really? If it’s your birthday then you need balloons!” An attentive employee walking by hears the conversation and is back in a flash with two balloons, one pink and one orange. The girls giggle, toss a thank you over their shoulder and bounce out the door.

We are pulling out of the parking lot when my Dad calls. He can barely find the words to say that Steve Logemann, a high school acquaintance of mine, has died in a farm accident.

Steve was a couple grades ahead of me at North Kossuth High School. I didn’t know him well except to say hi to him in the hall between classes. He was very tall and very nice. The kind of person your parents would describe as “a good kid”.

Two years ago and 23 years removed from our high school days I received an email from Steve. Somehow one of my “Slice of Life” columns had found its way to his inbox and he asked to be added to the distribution list. Steve and his wife Gail now had four kids and a family website with pictures of their Iowa farm and of their children. The website is called www.twinkleye.com, a not so subtle reference to the Biblical passage in 1 Corinthians 15 that speaks about how believers in Jesus Christ will be changed in the “twinkling of an eye” when He returns. And that because of Jesus’ death on the cross, “death is swallowed up in victory”.

Pressing the end button on my cell phone, I turn right on to 40th Street. Annie and Emma are chattering happy twin talk in the back seat. Driving a little slower than normal, I look around. Palm trees are swaying and gray clouds are rolling on an unusually cool and windy Phoenix day. A phone company technician bends over a junction box, making repairs. Kids with packs on their backs and I-Pod’s in their ears head for the bus stop. A McDonald’s semi truck on its way with a supply of everything needed to make Big Macs and Egg McMuffins. Two ladies aerobic speed walking down the sidewalk. A Dad pushing a stroller. And me driving my kids to preschool on their 5th birthday before going off to work.

The thing about death is that it happens in the middle of life.

Pulling into the school parking lot the kids unbuckle their seat belts and we do what we always do. We have a little talk. We talk about how important it is to be a good friend to others, to be respectful of their teachers, to take care of each other and to remember that they can talk to God anytime about anything. On this day I add that 5 years ago my whole life changed when God blessed me with their lives. I tell them how proud I am of them and how much I love them. We hug for a little longer than usual.

Getting out of the car, Emma says, “Daddy, let’s let the balloons go and watch them go high in the sky.”

“Is that ok with you, Annie?”

“That’s a great idea! I go first!”

“Ok, go ahead…no. Wait Annie. Please. Just a second. Daddy needs to get something.”

Maybe it’s because today is their birthday. Maybe it’s because I’m thinking about Steve’s wife and kids and how terribly much they are going to miss their Daddy. Maybe it’s because with all my formal theological training I don’t have a single satisfying answer as to why bad things happen to good people. Maybe it’s because all of the above makes me remember that life is short and oh so unpredictable.

Whatever it was made me grab the camera.

“Ok, girls! Let ‘em go!”

Annie was right. It was a great idea. We watched them dance into the clouds and out of sight.

Happy Birthday, Annie and Emma. I love you more than you’ll ever know.

See you later, Steve. Thanks for reminding me to look forward to the “twinkle eye” time. You’ve arrived. I’m sure there’s lots to do on your first day in heaven, but if you happen to see a couple of pink and orange balloons float by, just know they’re from friends in Phoenix who are looking forward to the day of no more looking back.

“Show me, O Lord, my life’s end and the number of my days; let me know how fleeting is my life.”
-Psalm 39:4

“Thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” – 1 Corinthians 15:57

Sometimes we get so involved and over-committed that we forget things. Forgetting to pick up your shirts from the cleaners isn’t that big a deal. Forgetting your spouse’s birthday would be a big deal. Now, I’ve never forgotten my wife’s birthday. It’s inconceivable to me. Forgetting Valentine’s Day in 1992 was lesson enough for me. Ever heard the phrase “Gone But Not Forgotten”? It’s not just for tombstones.

Recently I looked at my Palm Pilot and considered everything in my schedule. Family stuff, work stuff, church stuff, time with friends, taking Annie and Emma to preschool and to dance class, doctor and dentist appointments, taking Palmer the Eskimo Dog to the groomer, and on and on it goes.

I wondered out loud, “How does God do it? How does He keep track of everything in the universe?” I just have my tiny postage stamp corner of the world to take care of. God rides herd on the whole planet. Not to mention 6 billion busy people just like me.”

Obviously, God is God and because He is the Ultimate Everything He doesn’t need a Palm Pilot to organize His week. God’s omniscience and omnipresence are too big for me to get my brain around. Just for a minute, let’s break it down to something less mind blowing.

Are you wearing a watch today? If you are, chances are it has a quartz crystal inside. Were we able to see it, we would find that the quartz crystal in our watch vibrates at a speed of approximately 8 billion times per second. That’s 8 billion with a capital “beyond our absolutely”, as my Grandmother would say.

There are approximately 6 billion people on planet earth. If God were only able to think as fast as the quartz crystal in your watch, He would be able to think about you and every other person on earth at the same time, every second of every minute of every hour of every day.

With time to spare.

Psalm 121 says that our God “does not sleep nor does He slumber”. He is literally thinking about you every second of every minute of every day. This week while you’re using your Timex and your Palm Pilot to keep track of your schedule, remember that God is thinking about you every second of every minute. Everyday. Thoughts of love, grace, encouragement, forgiveness, kindness, hope and peace. God cares about the details of your life.

You might forget something this week. It happens. For your sake I hope it’s the shirts at the cleaners and not a birthday. Whatever you might forget, no worries. God will never forget about you.

“How precious are your thoughts toward me, O God! How vast is the sum of them!” – Psalm 139:17

I have a jar of sand from Newport Beach, California. Now, I know what you’re thinking…a person would have to be out of their mind to count sand in a jar.

I started on a Monday. And this is what I did…I went to the kitchen and pulled out the smallest measuring spoon I could find; one eighth of a teaspoon. Sitting at the table I dipped this measuring spoon into the sand, leveled it off with a knife, and tapped it out on to a sheet of grid paper. I turned on a small overhead light, picked up a straight pin and started to count.

Some of the grains were small. Some were very small. And some were so tiny that I’m quite sure an ant could walk over them without noticing. Guess how many grains of sand were in my one eighth of a teaspoon? Approximately 32,500…give or take a thousand. That means that in this jar there are approximately 15,600,000 grains of sand.

Have you ever been to Newport Beach? How many “15 million grain jars” do you think we could fill? In Psalm 139, King David paints a beautiful picture of God’s intimate care for us. In verses 17-18 he makes this most wonderful statement, “How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How vast is the sum of them! If I should count them, they would outnumber the sand.” Imagine! God’s thoughts toward us are more than all the grains of sand in all the sandboxes and all the beaches and all the deserts of the world. God’s thoughts toward us are countless.

As human beings we know what it’s like to be ignored. We’re familiar with that. We could all go to the mall right now and be ignored by hundreds of people. Yet the Biblical truth that God pays infinite attention to us isn’t so familiar. We simply can’t begin to comprehend anyone thinking that much about us. But just for a moment let’s suppose that when you’re born, along with a slap on your tush and a Social Security number, you’re given a jar of 15 million thoughts from God for your lifetime. I wonder what kind of thoughts are in here?

During the first several years of our life there are a few thoughts in here to protect us from ourselves. You know, a thought or two to keep us from kissing the electrical outlets or pulling the ironing board down on our head. There are thoughts about our growing up and how to get along with our family. Thoughts toward keeping us safe from the playground bully. Thoughts to help us survive puberty, first dates, and algebra. Thoughts about what college He wants us to go to, the direction of our studies, the friendships He wants us to develop and if and when and who we should marry.

There are “God thoughts” in our jar about the gifts and talents He has given us, and how we can best utilize them in ministry within the body of Christ. Thoughts about wisely using the money and resources God will entrust to us. Thoughts about how we can someday best raise our children in the fear and wisdom of God. And lots and lots of thoughts about growing and maturing into the godly person He desires us to be.

While 15 million thoughts will take us a long way, in reality our jar of thoughts from God will never be empty. In His great love for us, God pays eternal attention to the details of our lives. There is nothing that happens in our lives, whether big or small, that He is not concerned with. With God we are never alone and never ignored. His thoughts toward us flow from His heart of goodness and kindness, of mercy and grace, forgiveness and love.

“How precious also are Your thoughts toward me, O God! How vast is the sum of them! If I should count them, they would outnumber the sand…” – Psalm 139:17-18

Panhandlers are fairly common around America West Arena, especially late at night after events. Usually at least one of them will hit you up for money as you’re leaving work and headed for your car. Some ask for food. Most ask for money that they say is for food. Most of them are lying.

But wheelchair guy is across the street. Not someone I’ll have to talk to tonight. He made the green light, though, and headed straight for me. With one leg stretched out stiff and straight on the foot step, he pushed himself with his other leg. He steered with his hands while looking over his shoulder, like driving everywhere in reverse.

The car was on the third level of the garage so, short of running up the stairs, there wasn’t any way to avoid him. Was I trying to avoid him? Honestly? Yes.

He spun his chair around and launched into a well-rehearsed spiel. You know, the overly friendly and enthusiastic greeting that attempts to overwhelm you and get you off balance.

“Excuse me, how ya doin’ tonight?” Verbally he plunged ahead while fumbling with his left hand for a tattered cardboard sign. “All I’ve gots is 75 cents to get something to eat. Can you spare anything?” With his right hand he held up a cheap clear plastic glass and jiggled the three quarters at the bottom. With his left hand he pulled out the sign wedged in the arm rest of his wheelchair. “Homeless and hungry. Please help. In Christ’s love…”  A nice variation on the typical “God Bless”. You can never really know if they mean it or if it just helps with the donations.

Even though I’ve been in this situation many times, I’d be lying to say I’m comfortable with it. Sometimes it’s easy to say no. I could say no. I could walk away. But my eye was stuck on his sign and the last three words scrawled in black. “In Christ’s love…”

I reached in my pocket and pulled out my wallet. All I had was a $10 bill. I gave it to him and said, “This is all I’ve got.” He looked twice and surprised. “That’ll do! Thank you!” Kicking his worn out Nike against the asphalt he pushed away and down the sidewalk.

Our most honest conversations are the ones we have in our mind. Conversations no one else hears.

“A $10 bill. Am I crazy? Why did I use my $1′s buying dinner tonight? Great. I just let a panhandler talk me out of $10 when my finances are tight. He’s probably on his way to a six-pack of beer or worse. And I gave him the money. And that sign. “In Christ’s love”. Right. Every panhandler puts “God Bless” or something like it on their sign. For all I know the guy was faking it and he’s parking his wheel chair in the alley while I’m out $10 bucks. Was I just so stupid to hand that money over? Then again, maybe he will use it for food. Who knows? That’s what’s maddening about this. Who knows?”

The next day I still felt conflicted. And the conflict produced some questions.

Why am I so concerned about the stewardship of a ten dollar bill when giving it to a homeless person? And why don’t I apply the same level of scrutiny to myself when I spend ten dollars on something I don’t need? Why am I so high and mighty in trying to discern whether or not the money I give to a panhandler will be spent judiciously?

Ten bucks. That’s a cheap pizza. So why am I wondering about the stewardship of the ten dollar bill I handed to the guy in a wheelchair when I don’t give it a thought if I’m chewing on a slice of Canadian bacon and mushroom from Hungry Howie’s? (With sesame crust, of course.) I don’t always spend money wisely. So where do I get off deciding whether or not the recipient of my pocket change is worthy to receive it?

What if God used my thought process when deciding whether or not to give me something? What conversation would God have with Himself? “How do I know Todd won’t waste it? How do I know he won’t go spend it on something foolish?Something that’s harmful to him? And is he working hard to be responsible for himself? Is he asking for this because he’s lazy? Or does he genuinely need it?”

Any way you look at it, God is generous with us. All of us. Or as the Bible puts it, “He sends His rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.” (Matthew 5:45) Jesus also said, “If you, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Heavenly Father give what is good to those who ask Him?” (Matthew 7:11) Say what you will about God. He is a Giver.

“In Christ’s Love”. We can never know if they mean it or it just helps with the donations. Yet given a choice, it’s better to be generous and wrong than stingy and right. A CPA could argue that from a purely financial standpoint, God is crazy to keep giving to us. We don’t always manage the money well. But God keeps giving to us in abundance.

If God’s ok with being crazy in His giving, maybe we can risk being a little crazy ourselves.

The storms of life are constant. You’re likely in the middle of one right now.

Maybe your work is going smoothly but there’s rough waters with your kids. Maybe it’s calm waters at home but your job is threatening to swamp your canoe. Maybe home and career are floating along but inside your heart and soul is a tornado of emotions that will not let you find peace.

Psalm 46 shows us that peace isn’t the absence of storms in our life. It’s the presence of God in the midst of our storms.

(Presented to Hope Covenant Church – Chandler, AZ – 4/17/2005)