Joni and I watch a lot of HGTV shows together. I love how they take a house that is dysfunctional and ugly and make it useful and beautiful. The process is intriguing. Identity the problem. Come up with a new plan. Demo the old stuff. Rebuild with hard work. Results? Amazing. Too often we take that process and convert it into a do-it-yourself project to grow as followers of Jesus. The results? Not so amazing. I tried executing the DIY blueprint over and over. I am dysfunctional. Check. I have identified the problem. I believe God has a plan for my life. Check. Now I need to rebuild my spiritual dwelling place. This is where I veered off the Biblical script. I thought the self-demolition of my sinful behaviors and personal remodeling of my life would be based on my hard work. Bad plan. Jesus doesn’t remodel a messed up structure. He builds a completely new one on the day
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Because of my career path in secular television I have a lot of people very dear to me who do not share my faith and hope in Jesus. Some are simply disinterested. Some think their good works will outweigh their bad deeds and they will be granted entry to Heaven. Some think that faith in God is a foolish pursuit that no intellectually honest person would consider. Some have witnessed horrible actions of people claiming to be Christians. Some have experienced harsh and legalistic religious types who make living a life of faith miserable and emotionally damaging. Some are pushed away by those who share sincere beliefs in a way that does not show the love of God. Any combination of these factors can cause people to step away or not pursue what it means to follow Jesus. I get it. I have struggled with many of those things over my long journey of faith. Brennan Manning wrote this very
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Why me Lord? I suspect that most of us have cried out to God with that question. I would also guess that approximately ninety-nine percent of the time we are asking God why some trial has come our way that we feel is undeserved. The same question has been asked throughout history. “Why me Lord? Why me?” A song by Kris Kristofferson cycled up on on my satellite radio today and reminded me of a better perspective. I have loved Kristofferson’s song “Why Me?” since I was a young believer and, if you do the math, you realize that I am not so young a believer anymore. The truth is I am still trying to apply the wisdom of these lyrics. Why me Lord, what have I ever doneTo deserve even oneOf the pleasures I’ve knownTell me Lord, what did I ever doneThat was worth loving youOr the kindness you’ve shown So true. What have I done to deserve even one of His blessings? I
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I have written tributes over the years to men and women who have significantly influenced my spiritual journey. Too often those tributes come after those inspiring followers of Jesus went home to Heaven. I have another spiritual hero who will soon be united with Jesus. My friend and my pastor Jeff Denton is near the end of his cancer journey. I wanted to write this while he is still able to hear what his testimony has meant to me because too often we save those words for memorial services. Waterbrook Bible Fellowship Lead Pastor Jeff Denton has been one of the most amazing leaders I have ever had the opportunity to serve under. His skill set would make me jealous if he wasn’t such a kind and grace filled friend. Jeff is a talented preacher, visionary director, administrator, counselor, creative writer, and inspirational leader. I know! How does a medium size church in Wylie, Texas find a leader like that?
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This week we finished one of my least favorite tasks of the year. Taking down the Christmas decorations always fills me with melancholy. I love Christmas and the message of hope and joy it brings. That God entered human form and gave us hope in a Savior who understands our struggle. We packed up a treasured Nativity creche that has been a part of our family tradition for decades. That miracle in a Bethlehem stable is where I place my joy as I head into a very unstable New Year. I find my joy in the Messiah, the Lord – who was born in the city of David. It is so easy to remember the reason for hope during Christmas. It also easy to forget that when things turn dark. We also packed away a decoration that spells out JOY. Now that we are past this wonderful season it would be easy to pack away joy in the attic and concentrate on cultural concerns.
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Amy Grant recorded “My Grown-up Christmas List” for her “Home For Christmas” album. The lyrics imagine an adult going back to Santa with a different perspective on what matters most in life. Instead of material things the writer now asks for good things for others. I love the sentiment of the song. No more lives torn apartThat wars would never startAnd time would heal all heartsEveryone would have a friendAnd right would always winAnd love would never endThis is my grown-up Christmas list I thought about my “grown-up” Christmas list this week. I would love for all of the things in the lyrics above to come true. But I have lived enough to know they will not. Everyday lives are torn apart. Wars start too frequently. Time does not heal every heart. Some who are reading this are lonely. Right seems to lose way too often and love ends for many. So what could I wish for that would be available for all?
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One of my favorite Christmas stories happened during the horrors of war. The Christmas carol “Silent Night” was actually responsible for a wartime Christmas truce. The year was 1914 and soldiers were having to spend Christmas Eve night on the World War I battlefields of Belgium. After only four months of fighting, more than a million men had already perished in the bloody conflict. The bodies of dead soldiers were scattered between the trenches. Enemy troops were dug-in so close that they could easily exchange shouts. On December 24, 1914, in the middle of a freezing battlefield in France, a miracle happened. The British troops watched in amazement as candle-lit Christmas trees began to appear above the German trenches. The glowing trees soon appeared along the length of the German front. Henry Williamson, a young soldier with the London Regiment wrote in his diary: “From the German parapet, a rich baritone voice had begun to sing a song I remembered my German nurse singing to me…. The grave and tender voice rose
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