Author: Dave Burchett

I am taking a week off to spend with my bride. I am posting “gently read” articles from the very early days of this blog. Some of these posts are like new…only read by little old ladies on Sunday afternoons. Seriously, many of you missed these offerings. I hope you find something to enjoy.

Blessings,

Dave

 

First I must apologize to the three or four readers who eagerly show up each weekday to read these ramblings. I was stuck on the road with a defective power pack and no other computer access. So I have to admit that I “blogged” down for a couple of days. Sorry. I am now powered up and ready to ramble.

Last night I was returning from a corporate meeting being held at a casino in Uncasville, Connecticut. Your reaction was likely the same as mine. Unca – where? Turns out it is about an hour from Hartford. But that is a future blog.

My panic happened during a routine and boring flight from Hartford to home in Dallas. I was bored with the movie and tired of reading. As I absently mindedly fiddled with my wedding band it somehow flipped up and disappeared around my seat. I immediately thought of my bride and how I would explain this one. I can always play the idiot card and that is hard to trump with me. But I knew this carried a little emotional impact beyond losing some jewelry.

I pictured that little band of gold laying somewhere on the peanut littered floor. What were the ramifications of losing it? It can be replaced I reasoned. She will understand. It is just a ring. My logic was solid and then I realized that I didn’t buy it either.

I had upgraded to first class and my seat was in the back row of the cabin so finding the ring would not be so easy. Because the passenger next to me was watching the movie I decided to wait until the movie was over to disturb him to look for the ring.  That gave me time to panic and to think.

The ring was not expensive. It was not even my first wedding band (my first one came with a gumball so I had upgraded once). But that missing ring had meaning beyond it’s pawn shop value. I had mentioned this ring in my book When Bad Christians Happen to Good People. The ring had become my symbol for what it is important in my life. There are four very small diamonds that represent the four children that have blessed our lives. Three wonderful sons are a constant source of pride and love. The fourth diamond represents our daughter Katie who died after fourteen unexpected months with us. Unexpected because Katie was only supposed to live hours or maybe days. The entertwined gold strands symbolized how my bride and I had somehow merged two very different lives into one indivisible marriage. When things get tough I have trained myself to look at that ring and it reminds me about what matters.

I thought of the nearly thirty year journey that Joni and I have traveled. I am fortunate in one thing. I married my trophy wife first and saved the hassle. But when our wedding pictures are dragged out I have to laugh. There I am with bad 70’s hair and my baby blue Dumb and Dumber tuxedo. And there is Joni looking gorgeous with her beautiful blue eyes and infectious smile. The reaction is the same for nearly every person who views those photos. A thought bubble rises over their heads with the question…”What was she thinking?”.  I have no idea. I am sure she has asked the same thing. But she has hung in with me and trusted God. She has never tried to change who I am but she has always challenged me to develop my unique design in partnership with the God who loves me. She has prayed for me and our boys more than I can even comprehend. When our marriage monitor flat lined a few years ago she did not give up. That ring symbolized the trials and the triumphs. I breathed a prayer that I would find the ring.

The flight attendant loaned me a flashlight and I crawled as best I could under the seats looking for my ring. With my derriere sticking unceremoniously into the aisle I looked in every nook and cranny. Nothing. Finally I flashed the light back into the seat bracket corner and there it was. I was relieved to find the ring and, frankly, to get my posterior out of the aisle. Slipping the ring back on I realized the value of symbols. Losing that ring would not have changed my love for my wife or our relationship. But that symbol is a reminder of love and the mystery of two lives becoming one.

      And this is why a man leaves father and mother and cherishes his wife. No longer two, they become “one flesh.” This is a huge mystery, and I don’t pretend to understand it all. What is clearest to me is the way Christ treats the church. And this provides a good picture of how each husband is to treat his wife….   The Message Ephesians 5

It is a mystery. I am grateful for the journey. I am grateful for the potholes and the detours and the times of smooth traveling. I am grateful I chose not to exit or turn around when the journey got tough.

There is another symbol that I cherish. It is called the cross. And I would suggest that what happened there is the reason that Joni and I are still together in this mysterious and wonderful journey.

 

 

I am taking a week off to spend with my bride. I am posting “gently read” articles from the very early days of this blog. Some of these posts are like new…only read by little old ladies on Sunday afternoons. Seriously, many of you missed these offerings. I hope you find something to enjoy.

Blessings,

Dave

 

This little planet can be depressing at times. I picked up a magazine this week and came across three quotes that made me realize how desperate we are for a little hope.

The first quote was an odd mix of funny and sad. Country singer Kenny Chesney had a very short lived and well publicized marriage to actress Renee Zellweger. His description of the pain he was feeling was like a parody of a bad country song. You know what I am talking about. Songs like My Girl Ran Off With My Best Friend and I Sure Do Miss Him. Chesney compared the pain of losing that relationship to “having someone come in and take the big-screen TV off the wall during the big game, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Uhhhhh. Okay.

Perhaps we have found a key to the breakdown of this marriage. I don’t want to make light of a broken covenant but what a shallow analogy to describe the break. I would suggest that the unravelling of a marriage should be far more painful than losing electronics…even during the big game.

The next quote came from writer Albert Camus. “It is a kind of spiritual snobbery that makes people think they can be happy without money.” To slightly modify an old Paul McCartney and Wings lyric…”I’m so sorry, Uncle Albert…but you haven’t learned a bloody thing at all.”

I have been on both sides of the money thing. And I can tell you without reservation and snobbery free that money is unrelated to happiness. Happiness is seeing my wife at the end of a long day. Enjoying dinner with my wonderful sons (and daughter in laws). Laughing with friends. Being greeted by a Labrador retriever that thinks I am the greatest human being.

Ever.

Happiness is watching a baby toddle. A child smile. An elderly couple look at one another with that look that only decades can develop. Happiness is seeing the sun rise and hearing the birds welcome that sight. Happiness is connecting with the one who made me. That is what I was created for and my happiness is found in the simplest things of life. There is joy all around us. I choose to look for those things. Yet life happens and joy is a bit harder to choose.

In his letter to the church at Corinth Paul made the amazing statement that “I am overwhelmed with joy despite all our troubles.” 2 Cor 7:4 (MSG)

Where does that attitude come from? I can guarantee it doesn’t come from money. Money cannot buy happiness. Because we can “rent” what appears to be happiness for a season our culture confuses money with real happiness.

The third quote comes from author Thomas Wolfe who has reached the same conclusion as King Solomon in Ecclesiastes. Wolfe wrote that “Man was born to live, to suffer, and to die, and what befalls him is a tragic lot. There is no denying this in the final end. But we must deny it along the way.”

Mr. Wolfe is a brilliant writer and man. But he stopped a bit short of truth in my opinion. Man is born to live. A fallen world will produce suffering for all of us along the way. Dying is a pretty safe assumption. And tragedy does befall many if not most of us. I don’t deny a thing that Wolfe said except that we must deny those things. I choose to embrace life. I accept suffering because I am in relationship with a God who understands suffering and offers comfort that is inexplicable. I have looked tragedy in the face and found peace. Jesus had a thought or two on joy and it’s source.

“I’ve told you these things for a purpose: that my joy might be your joy, and your joy wholly mature.  This is my command: Love one another the way I loved you.   This is the very best way to love. John 15 (MSG)

I am no where close to saying that my joy is wholly mature. But I have hope as I write this. Hope that transcends big screens, money, and the difficulties of life. I have hope because I have found the source of joy. Paul wrote a joyful letter to the church at Philippi.

Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns.   Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life  Phil 4 (MSG)

It really is wonderful. If your hope is a quart low there is no shortage. But you have to want to be refilled.

 

I am taking a week off to spend with my bride. I am posting “gently read” articles from the very early days of this blog. Some of these posts are like new…only read by little old ladies on Sunday afternoons. Seriously, many of you missed these offerings. I hope you find something to enjoy.

Blessings,

Dave

 

I hope you read my blog about going to Homecoming last weekend at Baylor University. It was a wonderful weekend spent with family and friends. But I want these ramblings to be authentic and real. I have an embarrassing admission to make. I drove and parked carefully in Waco last weekend because I feared I was a wanted man. Let me explain.

October 22nd dawned sunny and pleasant in scenic Garland, Texas. I blissfully strode to the mailbox to retrieve my daily dose of catalogues, junk mail, and bills. I sorted through the stack.

“No annual fee for 12 months” – Correct. I am tearing it up.

“A Special Invitation from Miracle Ear” – I don’t like what I can hear. No thanks.

“A Charming Way to Show off Your Cleveland Browns Pride” – After last Sunday??? How about therapy?

“A Special 14 Hour Sale Just For You” – I can’t be there. You can go ahead and cancel it.

And then the heart stopper.

WARRANT ISSUED

Please be advised that Judge (I don’t want to make him mad), City of Waco Muncipal Court Judge, has issued a warrant for your arrest.

This got my attention.

This may be your last opportunity to pay.

This is Texas…that is a scary statement.

You also can be arrested at your work or home.

They would have a hard time finding me working but this is serious stuff!

My mind raced. I thought that this is going to hurt the very modest sales of my Christian books when I am cuffed and dragged off to the big house. The next thought was what the blazes had I done to be a wanted man? I called the City of Waco offices and gave them my case number (my first time to have a case number). I was thinking insanity would be my plea…witnesses would be no problem. The clerk informed me that my offense was actually a parking ticket picked up and ingnored by my first born while he attended Baylor.  I could simply admit my (his) guilt, give them a credit card number, and avoid having a humiliating mug shot on file. She turned to the records to enter my payment.

“Oh wait,” she said. “This was paid in full in 1999.”

“So if I had been pulled over in Waco this weekend I would have been cuffed and jailed for an offense that has been cleared?”

“Sorry Sir, I will fix that.”

For some reason I didn’t have a lot of confidence in the record keeping on the Brazos. I asked her to send me a copy of the debt payment just in case I somehow, inexplicably, for the first time in my life,  was caught speeding through Waco. On Thursday before Homecoming I received a notarized release of my guilt. I carried it in my pocket all weekend.

Later I thought how scary that notice was and I was innocent! I can’t imagine the fear I would have experienced had I been guilty and received that warrant.

It made me think of another life experience where I fought the law. As I examined God’s Word I realized that I could not keep the law and live a sinless life that would allow me to be declared innocent in front of a Holy God. For a while I fought the law, and the law won (is there a song in there somewhere?). But I realized I could never reconcile with a Holy God on my own merit. James says if you break one part of the law you have violated all of it.

For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it. James 2:10 NIV

I had broken large chunks of the law. But when I read further I found out something very interesting. My debt had been paid in full over 2,000 years ago. I would not get a notarized copy but I would get the reassuring presence of the Holy Spirit. If I was terrified to face the City of Waco what would it be like to face a Holy and Righteous God with a warrant issued for my sin?

I will never know. My debt has been paid by Jesus. I fought the law and the Lord won. If your warrant is still active may I encourage you to get it cancelled? My email address is on this website if I can answer any questions.

I am taking a week off to spend with my bride. I am posting “gently read” articles from the very early days of this blog. Some of these posts are like new…only read by little old ladies on Sunday afternoons. Seriously, many of you missed these offerings. I hope you find something to enjoy.

Blessings,

Dave

 

If you read When Bad Christians Happen to Good People you know that I am not a fan of “Jesus Junk”. That is a term for the often tacky, sometimes offensive, and generally puzzling ways that we try to merge Christianity and our culture. The products range from the Jesus bobble head dolls to Christian breath mints. I had never considered bad breath to be a spiritual issue but I am still learning in my journey.

 

People now send me links to this stuff just to annoy me. Today I found out about  the new Talking Jesus action figure and it arrived just in time for gift giving on His upcoming birthday.  Herobuilders.com of Connecticut, USA, have announced the addition of a new hero to their ranks of action dolls – “the ONLY real hero,” in fact. Standing fully 12″ tall, the Jesus Christ Action Figure comes with an optional microchip.  When Jesus speaks he sounds like the late John Facinda of NFL Films narrating the 10 Commandments. You almost expect  Jesus to follow “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s house” with some stirring music and “across the frozen tundra the mighty warriors rumbled.”  

                                                                                         

For only $34.95 you can have your very own Talking Jesus Action Figure. If you want to have your own “Come to Jesus Summit” with world leaders you can order the George Bush, Jacques Chirac, and Tony Blair action figures as well.

Another kind reader sent me news of the glow in the dark Passion of the Christ T-shirt. In the interest of fairness I will give the website description for you.                                                                                  .

 

You will never have a better opportunity to share your faith than a time like now. Let your light shine into the darkness with our ‘Passion of Christ’ glo t-shirt.

 

The instructions tell you that just by placing your t-shirt by a light source for 2 hours will allow your light to shine all night!

I am trying to understand how this works evangelistically. You charge up your t-shirt and go in search of sinners and dark places. So far so good.

 

Then you stride in boldly and all aglow and then you…uhh….

 

It breaks down for me there.

 

The list of Jesus Junk is astounding and embarrassing. Now the new trend is selling Jesus images on Ebay. Here is an actually item and description from a recent Ebay auction. I have inserted my own observations in italics.

 

On Sunday January 14th, 2001, my life changed forever.  I had been a heavy drinker for many years and on that day, I discovered what appeared to be the image of Jesus Christ on my grilled ham and cheese. (Just like Jesus to rock the Pharisees by appearing on a non-Kosher sandwich). After that day, I quit drinking (that would have done it for me too) and began to make much needed changes in my life.  I have kept this sandwich a secret from everyone, but it has served as a daily reminder of this magnificent miracle.  Now however, I feel that this sandwich should be shared with the hope that its image will inspire others to make changes in their lives.  I hope that the new owner will proudly display it for all to see. This sandwich is permanently sealed in a 1/2″ thick Lexan Plexiglas display case and is not intended for consumption (really good advice).  Item is not edible.  Item is intended to be displayed and visually experienced by self and others much as art would be appreciated.                 

                                                                          

And while the seller was gracious in wanting to “share” his sandwich with the world…there was a $350 minimum bid. There is a price on inspiring the world to change.

 

While this whole thing is embarrassing to me as a Christian there is also a strange comfort in all of this. Perhaps our strongest apologetic argument is that Christianity is flourishing around the world despite Christians. Clearly there is something far more powerful than our often sorry attempts to represent Jesus to the world. I wrote a chapter called “Godly or Gaudy?” in When Bad Christians Happen to Good People. Here is an excerpt from that chapter. 

 

Last night I had a dream.  I went shopping with Jesus.  We were browsing through a Christian book superstore.  He stopped at the What Would Jesus Do? bracelet display.  I found out what He would do.  He moved on.  Jesus picked up the Testamints breath mints and examined them.  Next He saw the Jesus and His dog statue portraying a young Jesus with a German shepherd.  Did I see Him chuckle?  The Jesus Saves air freshener for cars caught His attention.  He looked around at the rows of products and aisles of books, row after row of books about Jesus and how to know Him and be like Him and so on and so on.  “Why do you make faith so complicated?”  He asked quietly.  “I didn’t say figure Me out.  I said follow Me.”  That woke me up.

 

Two summers ago Joni and I did not have to turn on the morning news shows for visual entertainment. Every morning as we got ready for the day we would hear a familiar THUMP! That was the sound of crazy bird returning for his morning concussion. Our bathroom has a large half-moon shaped window near the ceiling. Every morning this bird would fly to the window sill, sit there for awhile, plan his attack, fly back a ways and hit the window full on. THUMP! He would do this over and over. Day after day.

(This is a stunt double bird…not the actual bird)

     Photo Courtesy Janesville Gazette

Because I like to think I am smarter than that bird I would laugh and make fun of him…mindlessly hitting the same window day after day after day. Stupid bird.

Then I would go out and imitate this poor creature with my own daily behaviors as a Christian.

Day after day I would go out and slam up against the same spiritual windows. Einstein was once quoted as saying that “insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” I am not quite willing to concede that I was insane. But the truth is that I did approach my spiritual life the same way everyday while somehow expecting different results. If I am hitting the same window over and over maybe it is time to change my approach. Scripture tells me that I should be producing fruit in my walk with Jesus.

If I am truly grafted to the true vine I will be producing fruit. But I too often decide to THUMP against the window of my own desires and selfishness. Jesus said this in the Gospel of John.

You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit—fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. This is my command: Love each other.  John 15 NIV

Sometimes I make this so hard. I am asked to trust in Jesus daily. When I do that Jesus says I will produce fruit. Then the Father will give me whatever I ask in His name. Then He commanded me to love one another. That is not a “helpful suggestion“. That is a command. But that doesn’t fit my plan.

My strategy is to ask for the Father to give me whatever I ask first and then I will get around to producing fruit. THUMP.

And then I decide that some people I simply cannot love. THUMP.

I rationalize that I just can’t produce fruit right now because of  (insert difficult life circumstance here). THUMP.

Yep. I am a lot smarter than that bird. It only took me two years to figure out I needed to change my approach. Stupid bird.

 

 

I never missed the Lone Ranger television show when I was growing up. I suppose the portrayal of Tonto would not be politically correct today but what a young boy in Ohio saw was not stereotypes or politically incorrect images.  What I saw were men who cared about each other and had each other’s backs. I saw men who valued law and justice above personal vengeance. I saw two loyal friends.

I was remembering those “thrilling days of yesteryear” recently as my bride was going through another round of chemotherapy. I began to consider my role as Joni’s sidekick in this brutal journey. I was thinking how I could be her Tonto to ride alongside her. Remember Tonto’s greeting to the Lone Ranger? Tonto always greeted the Lone Ranger with the expression “kemosabe”. Wikipedia reports that the origin of this expression is somewhat unclear, but James Jewell, an early director of the radio series, said the name comes from a boy’s camp located on Mullett Lake, Michigan that his father-in-law had run from 1911 to 1941. The translation was said to mean “trusty scout.” Fran Striker, the writer of the Lone Ranger scripts, said the actual expression was Ta-i ke-mo sah-bee, which he said meant “greetings trusty scout”. In the pilot of the Clayton Moore TV series, “Enter the Lone Ranger”, Tonto explicitly states that “Kemosabe” means “trusty scout”. However, the phrase “faithful friend” has also been associated with the term Kemo Sabe. One such instance was in the 20th anniversary broadcast of the radio show, which recapped the Ranger’s origin. In the scene where the wounded Ranger awakens and recognizes Tonto, he says, “years ago, you called me Kemo Sabe.” Tonto replies, “That right, and you still Kemo Sabe. It mean, ‘faithful friend.’”

So I began to think about my role as Joni’s “Chemo Sabe” during these less than thrilling days of present year. I thought about the better or worse clause in our wedding vows. Cancer was not in the brochure I had pictured for our lives. But the amazing thing about the journey with Jesus is that He works good out of bad. Joni and I are drawing closer. I am realizing the strength and depth of her faith. I am amazed by her courage, spirit, and resilience. I am humbled by her lack of self pity. I appreciate the good days a lot more and trust Him more during the bad ones. For me it has been a privilege to serve a woman who has given and given to our family for so many years.

This morning I opened up Joni’s blog, I was blessed and deeply touched to read these words.

I am spending  my short summer vacation recuperating from my last “bad“ chemo treatment but I am so thankful that my husband Dave has been my rock. He has been my constant help during these difficult days.  He makes sure I take my medication for nausea and pain, he makes sure I eat even though I have cravings similar to when I was pregnant with the boys, he allows me to sit in the recliner all day and keeps reminding me that these difficult days will soon be behind us.  He has been keeping the house picked up, doing the dishes, the cooking and the laundry.  I don’t have the  energy or the ability to do any of these normal every day activities.  He does all of this while encouraging me and maintaining his regular job with the Rangers.   It is not easy for me to rely on someone else and not carry my fair load of the housekeeping responsibilities. 

I don’t like being sick but God keeps  reminding me that He is in charge of my body, the cancer, the treatments and the timing even though  I feel so out  of control.  When I am able to relinquish control of my situation is when He can work.  Lord, I thank you for Dave, my earthly rock, and I thank you that you are my true Rock.  Psalms 31:3  For thou art my rock and my fortress;  for thy name’s sake Thou wilt lead me and guide me. 

What an honor to be your “Chemo Sabe” my love. Hi Ho Silver! Let’s round up the bad cells, put them away for good, and ride into the sunset together. And we can sing the words of the Psalmist.

I will exalt you, O LORD,
       for you lifted me out of the depths
       and did not let my enemies gloat over me. 
 O LORD my God, I called to you for help
       and you healed me.

 O LORD, you brought me up from the grave [b] ;
       you spared me from going down into the pit.

 Sing to the LORD, you saints of his;
       praise his holy name.

 For his anger lasts only a moment,
       but his favor lasts a lifetime;
       weeping may remain for a night,
       but rejoicing comes in the morning.

 When I felt secure, I said,
       “I will never be shaken.”    Psalm 30  NIV

 

 

 

 

 

Welcome to a  bonus Holiday edition of “Ask a Bad Christian”. The question came from a long time friend in the television business who asked “Bad Christian” the following question.

• Hello Dave,  I was wondering if you could do a story on grace and what it means to you. Thanks, Pat

I decided this was a good time to write about grace. Why? Because I needed it desperately this weekend. I wrote a lovely little piece last week about the happiest day of the year. I wrote that I thought picking a day based on circumstances and formulas is silly. I noted smugly that we should choose to focus on the Lord and our joy should come from Him. I wrote that I was going to choose joy that day. What was I thinking? Those who are honest about this journey know that when we determine to be more obedient we are often given pop quizzes. I hate the spiritual pop quizzes as much as I did the academic ones. But they are just as revealing about how I am doing. My pop quiz consisted of work situations that frustrated me and other people conspiring (I thought) to divert my focus and steal my joy. How did I do? I failed the test miserably. I was grumpy. I was discouraged. My joy meter barely moved. Then I remembered my little blog.

Later I regrouped and talked to the Teacher. That is when I remembered again what grace means to me. Yes, I failed miserably. Yes, I was disappointed in myself. Yes, I was a little embarrassed that I had written so boldly and flopped so easily. But here is what poured over my soul from the Holy Spirit.

You are my child.
I love you.

Grace always takes me by surprise. I am not conditioned by this world to expect love and acceptance when I have failed. I am conditioned to expect condemnation, shame, and rejection. But there was the Father God patiently and lovingly dealing with me. Mark McMinn, a professor at Wheaton College,  wrote these words in an article in Christianity Today.

“Seeing our sin occurs over a lifetime of pursuing God. Our vision is seldom restored in a single burst of light but with countless rays streaming into our darkened eyes over many years—and always in the midst of amazing grace.”

That is the power of grace in my life. In His infinite mercy God does not reveal the ugliness of my heart in one gigantic and loveless revelation that would destroy me. He chooses instead to gently chip away at the rough edges of pride, selfishness, and disobedience. The famous artist Michelangelo would often select a block of marble that others thought unsalvageable and then go to work on that ugly hunk of rock.  He once remarked, “I saw the angel in the marble and I carved until I set him free.” That is what God’s grace means to me. He sees the beauty in the piece of rock that is me. And He sees the beauty that no one else sees. He lovingly and gently carves away the ugliness until a little beauty begins to come through. But He never gets angry and gives up if another strata of ugly crops up.

That is what grace means to me. Even on the days that I fail miserably I know that I am loved. I am accepted. There  is nothing that I can do to make God love me more and nothing I can do to make Him love me less. This is one place where the spiritual hall monitors are apt to jump in and complain about “cheap grace” in the church. Cheap grace means you don’t understand grace. Because grace understood would never translate to making such an amazing act of unmerited mercy trivial or unappreciated.

Paul and Barnabas proclaimed to the assembly that,  “We believe it is through the grace of our Lord Jesus that we are saved.” A common acronym for grace is God’s Riches At Christ’s Expense. This weekend I experienced a new acronym for grace.

God’s
Radical
And
Complete
Embrace

Most of us know the story of slave trader John Newton who repented of his sin and wrote a popular little tune called Amazing Grace. When he said wretch he knew what he was talking about. At the end of his life Newton said to his friends, “My memory is nearly gone; but I remember two things: That I am a great sinner, and that Christ is a great Savior.”

He is indeed.

Amazing Grace. How sweet the sound. That saves and patiently perfects a wretch like me.