Sliver of Silver

When I got up this morning and put on my grubby jeans and my faded "Hawks Rock!" school sweatshirt it was dark. There was a moon that my friend Rich would describe as "a sliver of silver, like the shavings that fell on the floor of a carpenter's shop..." It was chilly, but the sweatshirt, T-shirt, and obligatory white tank commonly known as a "wife beater" kept me plenty warm. Our new pup Fergie and I have been walking in the morning, but we have been out of practice after a week or so of being sick. This morning from the minute we left I was looking forward to the walk on the way back because I knew that that sliver of silver would be faint in a sky bright with the sunrise. It's an hour later now and the sun has still not made a grand appearance, but all is muted brightness. My other companions on my morning walks are my phone and my iPod. Oh my poor iPod. It has been frozen in time for nearly a year since the computer it was synced up to crapped out. I know all I need to do is follow the 99 steps to get the songs off the iPod and then I can restore it. Sarah says to just scrap it, that we have most of those albums anyway and that I could buy the songs again that I just have to have. But there's something about the songs on an iPod that's comforting. There are all these good old friends in there just ready for a particular mood. Trust me, after six months of the same songs every time I mow the lawn, go for a walk, or work out in the barn, I know these songs. I know that these songs are so often like those morning Bible verses I get text messaged to me each morning - they seem to fit. This morning, just as I was walking up the hill past the golf course, this song came on from David Crowder Band. I know, it's a good six years old, but let's remember the state of my iPod...

you should see the stars tonight
how they shimmer shine so bright
against the black they look so white
comin down from such a height
to reach me now, reach me now

you should see the moon in the flight
cuttin cross the misty night
softly dancin in sunshine
reflections of this light
reach me now, you reach me now

and how could such a thing
shine its light on me
and make everything beautiful again

and you should feel the sun in the spring
comin out after a rain
suddenly all is green
sunshine on everything
i can feel it now, i feel you now

and how could such a thing
shine its light on me
and make everything beautiful

and you should hear the angels sing
all gathered round their king
more beautiful than you could dream
i've been quietly listening
you can hear 'em now, i hear em now

and how could such a king
shine His light on me
and make everything beautiful
and i wanna shine
i wanna be light
i wanna tell you it'll be alright
and i wanna shine and i wanna fly
just to tell you now
it'll be alright, it'll be alright
it'll be alright.

cus i got nothing of my own to give to you
but this light that shines on me shines on you
and makes everything beautiful, again.
it'll be alright, it'll be alright.
-Stars, David Crowder Band, from the 2003 album Illuminate

So that's what I have for you today, this little musical treat. Take a listen/look here.

Triumphal Donkey

This morning is beautiful. It’s cold and the windows on the cars were fogged up, which my wife tells me is a tell-tale sign of a nice day. The windows are cleared now and the sun is firmly planted in the east. It’s still pretty darn cold outside, but soon it will be like yesterday: warm enough to open up the windows in the house to let some fresh air in.

This morning marks the beginning of Holy Week, the time in the calendar of the Christian church when we walk through a week in the life of Jesus which leads through the Last Supper to his death on Good Friday into Easter. Today is Palm Sunday. In a Bible you’d find this in a section called “The Triumphal Entry.” Jesus is coming into Jerusalem, and he sends an advance team to make sure it’s very triumphal, which is a word I have never used before. He has them gather a donkey from the next village and bring it to him. . A donkey does not exactly spell triumphal for me. The disciples covered it with their cloaks (another word I don’t often use) and Jesus rode on the donkey into Jerusalem. A humble entry, for sure.

I am sure that there is much more for me to know about this, if I were a biblical scholar or theologian, but what happens next is beautiful in a very simple way. As the donkey plods along, people get a sense of something happening, of Someone happening, and spread out their cloaks and lay down branches for him to pass by on. It’s like a natural, spontaneous red carpet entry for Jesus. A few decide to go ahead of him, saying, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”

Hosanna is so often used in the same way one would express praise by saying something like “Hallelujah!” But Hosanna is a rich word that means “Save: now!” It’s come to mean in Christian circles praise for being the One who saves us. This is the moment when many say out loud that this Jesus from the town of Nazareth is the Messiah, the One sent to save. Some say along that road, “Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David” meaning that this Jesus is the One they have been waiting for.

There’s much more to come in this Holy Week, but for this morning just linger with me here a bit, along this road where people offered what they had as an offering of acknowledgement that Jesus coming down the road is a beautiful thing. That Jesus was more than just a man who claimed to be God. He comes down the road humbly, choosing a donkey over a chariot and accepting the simple offers of confession that Jesus the man is Jesus the One sent to save. I will keep sipping on my grande drip here, a couple millennia later, and offer a simple “Hosanna!” on this bright, cold morning in praise for all that God has done for me through this Jesus who rode on a donkey.

Amen? Amen.

Prayer 1.6.09

A little snippet from my journal from earlier this month, during my couch time in the morning with Fergie on my lap and my Bible and journal open. This is one that rings true today as well.

God who invites me to know him as Abba...Papa..Daddy...
help me in this new day

There are deep ruts and grooves in this day - a well-traveled path
Ruts of routines and schedule
Grooves of who I interact with and who I pass right by
Ruts of doing what I do and avoiding what I don't want to or feel like I can't
Paths deep with tread of what's possible and expected

Today is in itself a miracle - there is no brilliant sun to greet it (at least that I can see) there is just this darkness and rain and cold

This is how you have chosen to lay out my life - in days - in these cycles of awake and asleep and dark and light
The Psalmist asks you to "teach us to number his days aright..."
Help me to remember today - and live today - as if this day counts

Give me a sense of how many days I have on this earth and help me surrender to what you might have for me today

Grace me...
grant me...
gift me...
one moment today that contains in it something eternal, unexpected, something rich with YOU

Not because I have earned it or deserved it, but because you are the good God who give and gives and gives again "out of your infinite riches in Jesus"

Amen.

Fortune Cookies from Jesus

I get a text message every morning at 8:00 rain or shine, come hell or high water. It’s not from Sarah, it’s not from my mom, and it’s not from my friend Matt as we try to hold one another accountable to get up earlier. It’s from Scott and Sam, the uber chipper hosts of the morning radio show on Spirit 105.3, the local Christian station. They are the “DJs” that say things like “Wowie!” “Super!” and invite callers to share stories of funny things that their homeschooled kids said about Jesus the other night. A while ago I was listening to aforementioned morning show with Scott and Sam (who are either on uppers or some sort of IV drip quad Frappuccino arrangement) and heard that you can text them at a certain number and they will send you a text message every morning with a Bible verse of the day. I thought that that would be a nice way to start the day, so I signed up. Let me tell you, it has been really cool, and also really creepy. It’s like a fortune cookie from God. I have always loved that verse about God’s word not returning void…that idea that God’s word has power and can do something. Here’s how that verse, Isaiah 55:11, reads in the New International readers Version (NIrV):

The words I speak are like that.
They will not return to me without producing results.
They will accomplish what I want them to.
They will do exactly what I sent them to do.

Fortune cookies are great to eat, especially when you dip them in that tiny little teacup into which you have dumped a complete packet of C&H Sugar. But they are sometimes creepy in their ability to predict the future such as the one I had recently, as I apply for principal positions in the area: “You will be chosen for a place of high honor.” Sure, there is always the one that says, “You like Chinese food” but for the most part, they are right on in predicting some sort of vague event, learning, or good thing coming your way. (Does anyone else get that image from Mickey Blue Eyes in their head every time they think of fortune cookies? “Not waitress…OWNER! Eat cookie! Eat the %$&*%$ cookie!” Guess not. I digress.)

So I get this verse every morning and it is amazing how it fits for the day I am beginning. Sometimes I don't know why that is the verse of the day, but as I look back mid-day or at the end of the day I know just why that was the verse for that morning. Here are a few I have received recently that have been a genuine blessing to me. They may be for you as well.

He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. – Colossians 1:17

Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life. – Philippians 2:14-16a

Do not withhold good from those who deserve it, when it is in your power to act. – Proverbs 3:27

Many are the plans of a man’s heart but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails. – Proverbs 19:21

And these two, which have been like water for me at this juncture in my life:

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” – 2 Corinthians 12:9

Jesus replied, “What is impossible with men is possible with God.” – Luke 18:27

A few of these got me to spend some time in Proverbs, and I found these gems as well. Indulge me.

Who can say, “I have kept my heart pure; I am clean and without sin?” – Proverbs 20:9

Do not boast about tomorrow, for you do not know what a day may bring forth. – Proverbs 27:1

There is surely a future hope for you, and your hope will not be cut off. – Proverbs 23:18

The thing that’s wonderful about that verse about God’s Word not coming back void is that there is power in it. When words of scripture are spoken, we are told that something can and will happen. That’s great in a vague, other sort of way. The challenge is that the power might come in us doing something about we are hearing, bringing to life…fleshing out…these words. May we find hope in the words, and may they also serve as a spur in our backsides to do something ourselves.

Amen? Amen.

On a practical note, if you would like to receive these text messages, check out the Spirit 105.3 web site at: http://www.spirit1053.com/textmessaging.php?articleID=61

Book Review: The Shack

The first time I heard of The Shack, Matt and Meredith were interviewing its author, William Paul Young, via satellite on the Today show. He was standing in a lodge-looking living room with his family who all seemed nice and good looking. He emphasized that this book was not written to be published, but as a gift to his family. After reading the book for a few weeks now, and just finishing it tonight, I am glad the he decided to share it with a broader audience. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the book, it focuses on the journey of Mack, a father who is grieving the tragic loss of his youngest daughter Missy. He returns to the place where she was presumed to be killed after receiving a mysterious note three years after her disappearance inviting him to come back to “the shack.” (Spoiler alert: I will try not to give anything away that you won’t find on the dust jacket of the book.)

I guess I should mention that half of why I read this book was a bold claim by Eugene Peterson on the front cover: “This book has the potential to do for our generation what John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress did for his. It’s that good.” I hold Eugene Peterson, the former pastor who translated the Bible from the original Greek and Hebrew into really accessible and beautifully every day language called The Message, in pretty high regard. After reading it, I can see the parallels. I’m not sure of the technical definition of allegory, but I am pretty sure The Shack is one. It’s a story full of symbols that point to deeper truths. Not all can be taken at face value, nor is it intended to be.

Back to the story… After walking the reader through this horrific experience in Mack’s life and The Great Sadness that follows, the book centers on what Mack finds when he gets to the shack. He goes fearing he will meet his daughter’s killer face to face and simultaneously hoping/fearing that he will find God there. As someone whose understanding of God helps to shape his understanding of the world, it sounds odd to talk about God being person-ified, but like I said I was an English major so I need to throw around fancy words like that. God is personified in some unconventional ways in this book. He is primarily called Papa, which points to the word Abba that Jesus used when he talked to his Father in prayer. Young is imaginative in the gender, culture, personality, and language of each member of the Trinity.

I hope that if you choose to read this book you can get past some of how the Father (God), Son (Jesus) and Holy Spirit are portrayed. I know some people won’t be able to for various reasons, but I hope that you, dear reader, can. For me what was intriguing was not what body or culture they took on, but how Young fleshes out the relationships among the three forms of God. It’s really beautiful to imagine this mystery of the Trinity, and it seems to have some seeds or hints of how things might be. There’s one scene in particular where you get a real sense of how these three might work and live and operate together. I heard once that God would not ask us to do something he hasn’t himself done, and this one helps me know that God wants us to live in community because he himself does this.

In the spirit of full disclosure, there were a couple things that drove me crazy about this book. (1) As a former English major, there was some language that was overly flowery. There was a lot of color and light and brightness. Some of the metaphors were overdone. By the end I was thinking, “The Spirit is like the wind. She is elusive. Got it.” The depiction of Jesus was simple. Jesus didn’t get much play time, but I thought that was okay. He seems to be the easiest part of God for people to understand, so it made sense to me by the end. (2) It might sound ridiculous to say that the dialogue seems contrived in a novel in which a man spends a weekend at a lake cabin with Jesus, God, and the Holy Spirit, but really it was a bit overdone. No one really talks that way, but the content of their dialogue was really engaging, so I can forgive it.

I expected this book to be vaguely spiritual in the feel-good Oprah sort of way, but was surprised to find it to be pretty faithful to what I believe as someone who has grown up in the Church. If you based your whole life on this book, you would have a tilted spirituality, but you would probably be better off than if you had not read it at all. You’d definitely have a sense of God’s role in our every day lives and would be armed with some perspective for difficult times. You would be grateful and humble, at least for a while.

As I prepare to pass this book on to someone (perhaps my lovely wife), I will take with me a few things:
* God is especially fond of me. I was so taken by how Papa talked about people who he had created.
* The idea of God being a verb, not a noun. Beyond that, God always preferring verbs to nouns. Think of how much of our spiritual life is restricted by nouns and concepts instead of doing words.
* God wanting us to live our life in expectancy, not expectation. This was a convicting chapter for me, and yet very freeing.
* God wanting not a piece of my life, or to be at the top of the pyramid of priorities, but wanting the whole thing and to be at the center. Not a new concept for me, but a beautiful and welcome reminder.

Mostly I appreciated this book because it affirms one of the things I believe most deeply: that God can redeem all of the bad stuff in our lives and help transform it into something good and beautiful. It reminds me of those words I love, that I come back to again and again, from a Sara Groves song:
I can’t remember a trial or a pain
That He did not recycle to bring me gain
All I have need of, his hand will supply
He’s always been faithful to me…

Some people will tell you to take this book with a grain of salt. That’s the easy way out. I would say to read it with an open mind and to think about what it might mean for you. Don't expect it to be 100% biblically accurate. Don't expect to be reading award-winning literature. But three million people have found it to be powerful, and it left your favorite blogger Ryan with some things to think about, so I’d say it’s worth a read.

Do. Remember Me.

I grew up in hymn-singing churches for a good chunk of my life, and just like my nephew Drew once I have sung a song a couple of times it’s engrained in my memory. One of these hymns that we used to sing goes like this:
He giveth more grace as our burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength as our labors increase;
To added afflictions He addeth His mercy,
To multiplied trials He multiplies peace.
(Annie Flint, Public Domain)

It’s amazing to me how this works, but it does time and time again. My friends Ryan and Jen Willson are home from Malawi in Central Africa for a few weeks. They are here because their friend and colleague there Ryan Bartlett died in a car accident. They accompanied their friend’s wife and children back to the States to attend a memorial, provide support to the family, and then get some support themselves as they gear up for new roles, challenges, and a new home base for ministry that is hours from their current home. Just like Paul and Silas singing away in the prison when they were arrested for sharing the recent good things of God, God has given Ryan and Jen strength and grace. He has used them, in this weak time, to minister to others. Ryan preached a Sunday ago and talked about some of their pain and ministry there, relating it to the story of Jonah.

Do you remember this one? Dude has clearly been told by God to go to Ninevah, a place with a bad rap and preach telling them that they are wicked. This does not sound like a good job posting to him, so “ran away from the Lord” to Tarshish. Long story short and some sweet maritime action scenes later, he ends up in the belly of whale. The Bible says that God “provided a great fish to swallow Jonah.” I had always found this story kind of haunting. I have thought many times about ways in which I have run headstrong into some sort of Tarshish when God was preparing me for Ninevah type work. I had never thought, though, of God providing the fish to swallow Jonah. Reading this this dark winter morning, it makes me think that the fish is a grace in itself - is a fresh start, another chance. God provided Jonah a context for coming back to what he knows he needs to do.

Just like Paul and Silas singing away while their feet were bound, Jonah uses this time to think and remember. He trudges up a prayer in the midst of the bile. He acknowledges that God had saved him from drowning. He says, “When my life was ebbing away, I remembered you, Lord, and my prayer rose to you, to your holy temple…with a song of thanksgiving I will sacrifice to you.” Ryan preached about that word remembered. He talked about how remembering at its best means not simply calling something to mind but calling it to mind and then doing something about it…taking some action. It would have been easy for Paul and Silas to “remember” God in some vague way but to dwell more on the fact that they did not have full use of their limbs and thus were not in control of their fate at that moment. I would have been easy for Jonah to call to mind some image of a distant, angry God, but he found a way to see this smelly belly of a fish as something provided by God. He remembered and prayed. Paul and Silas remembered and sang.

I am praying this morning that God would help me to remember some things in the do-something-about-it way. I am praying for it to be true in my life that when things seem hopeless I can remember God and what he has done, and what he said he would do, and to find one way to look through these crooked eyes of mine and see what he might be doing right now. I am praying that God would give me songs to sing when I am in the midst of tough stuff.

We just came off an awesome weekend with two of my favorite families – the Willsons and the Trempers. We also had a couple cameos from the Porters and the Nelsons. We spent the weekend talking, playing, holding babies and dogs, and of course eating. It was a way for us to remember the good memories we all have together and the bonds we still share. It was healing for all of us in the best way because it was along-the-way healing, not laying-on-a-leather-couch or sobbing-at-the-altar kind of healing. It is good for the soul to chat, to hear Matt and Ben talk about their bowel movements, to have precious little ones hop on your lap, to hear Jen teaching the kids songs in Chichewa, to see photos of their life in Malawi, to hear faint accents from Curtis and Kara. Soon we will send them back to Malawi in the belly of some 747 that is theirs by provision of our good God. They will remember, in the midst of drastic changes in their lives there, and I am confident that they will do something about it.


When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources
Our Father’s full giving is only begun.

His love has no limits, His grace has no measure,
His power no boundary known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again.

A Prayer for Resiliency

I’ve heard it said again and again that children are resilient. We have all seen kids bounce back from physical injury, which we all praise. “Look at my little bruiser! Right back at it…” It’s easy to reset a bone, to nurse a gash and make sure it does not get infected, to put a bandage on the scrape, give some love, and move on. I’ve been fixated these past weeks, though, on the internal wounds that can be easy to see, but much harder to heal. The wounds of a fragile little psyche, a broken self image, a lack of a sense of place and stability in the world. The words that were ringing in my ear as a child were “G’night…love you.”and my mom always reassuring me that no matter what we did, we could always come home. I worry about the words that ring in the ears of the ones that fill the chairs in my office

I am praying this morning that this is true that kids are resilient, that kids are somehow wired to be able to bounce back from all of the crap that life can throw at them. It’s probably no surprise that many of the children I see throughout the course of the day are hurting. They are there because A hit B because B made fun of A’s mom. Or because A and B used to be friends and now A is hanging out with C so A ran over and sucker punched B in the gut.

They come to my office because they cannot “allow the teacher to teach and others to learn.” But many of them are really there because of Mom and Dad’s indifference, Mom’s addiction, Mom and Dad’s work schedules that mean they are essentially raising themselves and their siblings, Dad’s abusive hand and tongue. They are relegated to Gramma and Grampa, to their room, to the neighborhood, to video games. They are not raised or nurtured in the way most of us were, and these wounds are deep and real and shameful.

I love the work that I do because I know that, cheesy as it sounds, I really am investing in the future. These kids will grow up. Just like I used to fill desks with my pudgy little butt at Sierra Heights Elementary and am now a contributing adult member of society, they will all grow into roles as workers and students and spouses and parents. In educational leadership circles, we talk about communicating “a sense of urgency.” One of my mentor principals, Leslie, used to remind me at our weekly meetings that the hourglass was glued to the table and we had no time to waste. We had to do all we could to support teachers so that they could support kids.

The sense of urgency is palpable when you are dealing with hurting children. They are right there in front of you, and they are beautiful and frustrating and broken and so creative in their naughtiness. Sometimes it’s just anecdotal stuff, but often this behavior is a symptom of the deeper stuff inside. As a classroom teacher, I used to remind myself that I could not solve all my students’ problems, nor was it my job to do so. It was my job to provide as much consistency and community and care and challenge to them as I could. It was my job in my little kingdom of Room 22 or Portable 4B to try to provide 6.5 hours of something good, to counteract all the bad. It was also my job to make sure that I was not making any excuses for them as far as their academics or their behavior – I had to believe that each of them could grow and change and overcome anything horrible that had happened to them.

Public schools are truly a beautiful place to spend your days. The people who choose to work with kids in this capacity are good people. No two days are ever the same. You get to work with 699 other people who are all quirky and talented. You get to have little people high five you and side-hug you and tell you jokes that only they get. You get called “prinstiple” a few times a day, or Mrs. Henderson, or Teacher or sometimes even Papa.

My particular public school is a wonderful place because people work together to meet the needs of kids. Most students have no idea how many stakeholders they have in their little lives, or how much conversation takes place about how to best meet their unique needs. When the counselor of a young girl came to meet with us recently, he was pleasantly shocked to see how full the conference table in my office was. Her classroom teacher, principal, Solution Room aide, counselor and quasi-principal Ryan were all there to talk with her guardian about what they are finding to work at home so we can implement these strategies at school. It was one my proudest moments at work. It was nothing of my doing; it was just awesome to know that I work as part of a team that really cares about kids and can work together to help them.

Today I am praying that kids are resilient, but I am also praying a simple Thank You for the fact that I have Someone to entrust these kids to when they are not within the walls of our school. I am grateful that we have a good Father who can see and hear and be there when I cannot…when our team at school cannot…when their friends and families are not or cannot. I am thankful, this day after Thanksgiving, that we have someone to ultimately thank for all the good, and for the way that God can turn our tough stuff into good stuff in some strange and beautiful way. Amen? Amen.