Children's Choir

Watching the children’s choir at church is always a fun place to peg personality types. It is the place where introverts and extroverts are exposed in stark contrast.

The introverts are standing there, lips barely moving, voice nearly inaudible, hand motions nearly imperceptible, withering under the weight of hundreds of eyes boring into their souls.

The extroverts are nearly yelling, flailing wildly, bouncing uncontrollably, absorbing the attention like a dehydrated sponge plunged into water.

One of the greatest gifts we can give our kids is to help them understand how God made them and then help them to embrace it.

As a 19 year old dad, I had no clue who I was much less have the ability to help my boys understand their wiring. Somehow, I still ended up with two great young men. I just wish I had realized earlier how God designs us to be different people and allowed them to grow in that.

Understanding how God has gifted us empowers us to engage without fear. It also protects us from arrogance, acknowledging we did nothing to earn how we've been created. And though there may be areas where I excel, there are others where I am painfully dependent.

The beauty of the body of Christ is all parts are valuable. More than that, they are needed. So self awareness is not only the best gift we can give our children, it’s the best gift we can give the church.

Trust

I saw this video on CBS Sunday Morning last week. It grabbed my attention because it talked about wounded veterans and the power of music in recovery.

It’s a pretty powerful piece with soldiers sharing how music has helped them cope with the loss of limbs, sight and traumatic brain injury. But it’s the last minute and a half that stunned me, forced me to find the story online and watch it over and over.

(Spoiler alert – watch the video then come back and read)

Everything in the last 1:30 moves me.

Cpl. Donely’s decision to trust, when he seems to have every reason not to, inspires and troubles me. My emotions are conflicted because my mind has no box to put such a profound level of faith.

If he is trusting God with his future, he must also believe that he serves a God powerful enough to have stopped what happened. God could have prevented it or at least limited the damage he suffered, right? Could he not at least saved Donely’s right arm?

Choosing to say, “All of the hopes and dreams I had are now in a shambles, my body is broken and I choose to trust you” levels me.

I think one of the most difficult, persistent questions of God is, “Do you trust me?” I really believe, though many would disagree, that the reason Jesus wept in John 11 was because no one trusted him.

Folks he had touched, healed and forgiven over the past three years accused him of being too late to help them. And it moved him to tears.

But not Cpl. Donley. Though you did not rescue me, I will trust you. That’s hard for me to accept, but somewhere, deep inside, it feels true. 

Confrontation & Broccoli

I don’t like conflict. In the fight or flight part of my brain, the trigger to flee is dominant… very dominant.

This has lead to years of avoiding conflict, like a kid avoids broccoli. I've learned, though, that conflict isn't only necessary, like broccoli, it’s healthy.

I’m not talking about the kind of conflict some people crave, conflict that’s combative and meant to cause harm. Instead it’s having the courage to lovingly confront, to provoke growth and strengthen relationship.

When we don’t confront, nothing changes. People continue in their disappointing behavior and teams remain sick. Relationships are damaged, the rift broadens and dysfunction deepens.  

In our work in staff care, Nancy and I see the impact of this. Sadly, we get called in after it’s gone on too long. Like an infection that has grown too severe, the only option is to remove a limb from the body. In a situation like that everyone suffers. The staff member, the team, leadership, everyone.

If someone had had the courage to sit down over a cup of coffee and have a difficult conversation months or years ago, things probably wouldn't have gotten so bad.

Remember though, when you confront, it takes a level of self awareness. Many times when I've sat down to chat with someone about their attitude or actions, I've realized I’m the problem. It’s then I realize, confrontation really is like broccoli, I may not like it but it helps me grow.

Filtering Life

Life is full of fear, worry, rejection, failure, insecurity, abandonment, neglect, anxiety, struggle, pain and suffering. Pretty cheery stuff huh? I can bury my head in the sand, put on some Pollyanna glasses and spout some churchy platitudes if I want, life is still hard.

This is also true: The Lord your God is in the midst of you, a Mighty One, a Savior [Who saves]! He will rejoice over you with joy; He will rest [in silent satisfaction] and in His love He will be silent and make no mention [of past sins, or even recall them]; He will exult over you with singing. Zephaniah 3:17 (AMP)

So the struggle is, how to live in the tension of my experience and what I’m told is true in scripture?

I think the idea is to look at our circumstances through the lens of scripture. So when you’re afraid, to move forward, try something new, have a hard conversation or even face another day acknowledge the fear and know God is present.

When you fail, feel insecure, abandoned, alone and neglected remember, he rejoices over you. When you blow it again, fall back into addiction, hurt people you love and even reject him, seek forgiveness and know he will never mention it.

When you’re in pain, hurt, harassed, abused and suffering, know that somewhere God sees you, knows your circumstance and sings over you like a mother easing her infant to rest.

God, the creator of the universe, is present with you. He rejoices in you. He does not mention, nor even recall your sins. More than that, you make him want to sing.  Of all of the wonders in creation, you are the one he celebrates.  

Believing this verse doesn't change the reality of my experience, instead it changes me.

Questions on Suffering

Although He was a Son, He learned obedience from the things which He suffered. Hebrews: 5:8

A cancer survivor shared that verse with me. It was something that brought her comfort in her dark moments as the blend of cancer and chemicals waged war on her body.

I didn't remember ever reading the verse. And I may have even thought she was hallucinating and read it wrong. So I came back to my office and looked it up.

What could Christ possibly need to learn? If we believe in the deity of Christ, shouldn't he know everything already? And of all the things he should know, wouldn't obedience be pretty high up on the list? He came for a specific purpose, right?

While my mind was stretching to comprehend how that could be true, a more troubling question crept in… “What does that mean for me?”

I’m a pretty pain averse guy. If Christ, in his sinless nature, had to suffer to learn obedience, how much more do I need it to learn? At first there’s this twinge of fear. It’s a “what’s going to happen to me?” kind of fear.

But then there’s a more painful question, “Do I love him?” Christ said if I love him I will obey him. If suffering teaches me how to obey… shouldn't I welcome it?

My life is virtually pain free. I live with a level of affluence, privilege, comfort and safety missing in most of the world. How can I possibly learn to obey Christ, learn to love him better, if it is learned through suffering?

I’m not sure I've settled on what those questions mean for me. I’m pretty sure, the answers are sobering.