this is just a note to say that I’ve moved. to check out my new blog go to
Sheena and I have been going through a bunch of old boxes. Almost all of them are full of things we acquired prior to getting married. Sometimes it’s embarrassing to see what we’ve spent money on. We can’t help but think of the sizable down payment we’d have on a house had we saved all that money instead. But at the time one of us just had to have the latest *NSYNC album.
There are, however, a good number of items I’m pleased to have brought into our marriage. I had great expectations that my wife would be as excited about each item, if not more, as I was.
But not a single one impressed her.
Actually, for the most part, she’s eager for the day we can get rid of them.
Now, how many times do we come to God with all these things, this stuff, expecting Him to use them, and be as impressed with them as we are?
One day Jesus said to a woman frantic to provide stuff for him: “Only one thing is needed.” (For the whole account you can turn to Luke 10:38-42)
When Jesus spoke those words, the one thing needed is nothing that we can make with our hands. The one thing needed is our attentive heart: our life. It’s not a meal, an apple computer, or twelve of the hottest tracks of 2000. These things impress men, but not God.
Are we still trying to offer God the things that matter to us, and expect Him to use them?
He wants to use us. Jesus didn’t come to earth to redeem stuff so that the things of this world can be used by God. He came and redeemed us so that we can be made into the people God wants us to be.
Perhaps it’s time to take stock once again of all our stuff, especially the things that we’re trying to force fit into God’s plans, maybe then we’ll see there’s a whole lot of stuff we need to get rid of.
I want to be close to God. I’m sure, at least I hope, I’m not alone in that. On days when God doesn’t seem so near, building a tower to get closer to him seems like a good idea.
Sometimes I’m tempted to think that those guys in Genesis 11 had a good idea. Only I’d build a tower with more noble intentions. Instead of trying to be famous like God, I’d build my tower so I could poke my head into heaven and have a look around.
I wonder how many of us are trying to get closer to God through our own efforts of elevation.
It seems like a good idea, doesn’t it? After all, where is God? He’s in heaven right? Now Heaven, as we all know, is up. Isn’t it?
Generally when we read the Bible we find all sorts of verses to support a “God’s up there and were down here” system of things. So we build towers, climb ladders, tie weather balloons to lawn chairs all to get higher and, therefore, closer to God – at least where God is supposed to be – to the place we understand is his home.
However, there are also verses that talk about God coming down and walking about the earth. What if he still does that? We’re often taught that God doesn’t do that anymore, but what certainty do these teachers have? What if God’s hiding out in some quiet corner of the woods, or the Rocky Mountains, or Coombs, or Central park just enjoying his creation? We are confident that, at the very least, his Spirit inhabits his people. God’s Spirit is on the earth.
So what if God isn’t just up there, but also down here? And what if we, through all our efforts of trying to get higher and closer to God, find ourselves somewhere in between? What if we’re missing God because we’re up in a tower out of touch from the dirt he’s walking on while yet not high enough to reach heaven?
Perhaps I should spend more time looking for God around here, and less time trying to climb my way to heaven.
Sometimes, I think that the world would generally be a better place if everyone thought the same way I did. Okay, truthfully, I think this way more often then I’d care to mention. Now, I get the feeling that I’m not alone in this–that there are many people just like me who want everyone else to conform their thoughts and opinions to theirs.
I’ve been teaching youth through the book of Philippines with a friend of mine and yesterday we were discussing the first few verses of Chapter 2. Paul is instructing the church to be like minded. This seems like a great idea. I can’t help but imagine how much more enjoyable Church would be if everyone there thought the same way I did.
I know others agree with me. I’ve been in many a church meeting where one individual would stand up and proclaim both their cause, and their frustration that the whole church isn’t supporting it. You can tell they’re wanting so badly to scream: “Why don’t any of you think the same way I do?” It’s written blatantly across their ever reddening face.
We spend a greet deal of time and effort trying to win others to share our opinions.
What if Paul meant for our like mindedness to be achieved differently?
A verse previous Paul is writing about finding encouragement in being united with Christ. At the root of the church is a relationship with Jesus Christ. As members of the Church we are to be chiefly united with Christ.
What if we pursued that wholeheartedly?
What if we, all of us, each member of the Church, pursued being like minded with Christ?
If that were to happen, would we find that, although we have different opinions on the peripheral stuff, at the core we had the same mind frame?
Perhaps, our like mindedness needs to come though the pursuit of being like Christ, and not through changing others.
We finished off a jar of peanut butter today.
A year ago we were given this two Kilogram jar of peanutty goodness. At first it was smooth and creamy: the two characteristics most important in peanut butter.
Now I love peanut butter. There are few things as enjoyable in the morning as watching the peanut butter heat and melt into all the crevasses of my toast. You can watch it become even more creamy. So creamy, that if you don’t hold it level to the floor as you lift it to your mouth, all the peanut butter will run off save for that bit gripped by the coarse texture of the toasted bread. Oh, and then to finish it off with a cold glass of milk is divine.
But sadly over time it lost something. It lost it’s goodness. It lost that ability to melt. It lost that ability to excite my senses.
As the best before date was passed the peanut butter became less desirable to eat. In fact consumption became a chore. Instead of waking excited to spread some on toast I woke knowing that I would eventually have to do something with it.
I’d open the lid, and while it smelled the same it’s appearance has changed. There near the bottom, where peanut butter once was, I found lumps of peanut and pools of oil. Jabbing a knife in and swirling helped some, but could never restore the luster that the peanut butter once held.
That peanut butter did not finish well.
Sadly, many will be like that peanut butter: they won’t finish life well. The years will pass them by and they’ll come undone. No attempts of others to help them get back together will work. What was once invigorating will be no more.
the Apostle Paul writes about finishing well. In 1 Corinthians he informs, or reminds, us that finishing well is hard work. There is the example of the athlete who trains hard with no guarantee of a victory.
Then, in the next chapter, he tells us the story of the Israelites in the wilderness. People who failed to finish well. You’d think that it would be a given that God’s chosen people would finish well.
But they didn’t.
Paul reminds us that many of them died and their bodies were scattered across the desert. This is about the pinnacle of finishing poorly in Jewish terms. Not only did they fail to reach the promised land, but they didn’t even get proper tombs and burials.
They finished very poorly.
We’d do well to remember when that our name, or heritage, will not guarantee a good end. Just because you say Kraft Creamy Peanut butter on the outside, does not mean that you will finish well. Not even being a son of Abraham means you will finish well.
Perhaps there are other classifications we take for granted.
Maybe even calling yourself a Christian does not mean you will finish well.
I hope that the following story doesn’t give the impression that I’m a nervous traveler. Sure, in the past, I’ve been known to freeze at border crossings. And once in the past I blurted out, “just some hats” as a nervous reaction because I didn’t know what else to say when asked if I was bringing anything into the United States.
But that was a long time ago. I’ve since mellowed and learned a few tricks to help me relax when people with guns and huge heaps of power are asking me questions about my travels.
There are times still when I hear of people doing things in their travels that make me shudder. Recently that person has consistently been my wife. For example, when entering New Zealand we saw signs everywhere warning of the penalties for bringing food into the country. Signs warned of fines and jail time, and I think even death (I could be wrong on that last one) for the fool who would bring food into the country without declaring it.
Sheena said we didn’t need to declare the snacks we were carrying, and checked the customs form in accordance. This made me nervous. I was ready to declare everything that could possibly be food related. I even threw a few crumbs of something out because I didn’t want the dogs saying I was carrying something. I was anxiously sweating profusely. I don’t know how a guy who looked as guilty as I did got in.
Last night Sheena was packing for a trip to Calgary to visit friends. She was packing some medical supplies to give to my sister who will be leaving shortly to spend some time volunteering at a hospital in Pakistan. The medical supplies are all things that hospitals here throw away. Things like scissors that were only used to cut a piece of tape, and blood free tourniquets. She wanted to keep them all securely in a bag and thought that a discarded bio hazard waste bag would do the trick.
I don’t know about the baggage screeners in Comox, but if I saw luggage containing medical equipment with a bio hazard waste warning on it, I’d be shutting the place down. There would be guys in special orange suits coming in to take readings and safely remove questionable luggage and all other luggage that came into contact with it.
There’s no way I’d be trying to get that on a plane.
At least it wasn’t a sharps container.
Am I a Hero of a Villain?
The other day I was listening to a message Donald Miller gave at mars Hill church in Grand Rapids Michigan and he said something that keeps rattling around my brain:
“Do you know what the fine line between the hero and a villain is? A hero can have a drinking problem, a hero can have depression, a hero can have low self esteem, but do you know what a hero can’t do? A hero can’t think of themselves as better than other people. The second the hero thinks of them self as better than other people they become a villain.”
Just something to think about and chew on. I know I am.
If you want to hear the rest of his talk you can look it up with the rest of the Mars Hill podcasts on iTunes.
Just before going to sleep last night Sheena uttered familiar words: “Don’t let the leeches haunt you in your sleep.” That wasn’t the first time she said those words and I’m sure it won’t be the last. Her words stem back to an incident in Malaysia two months ago. It was an incident that haunted me for weeks.
While in Kuala Lumpur we read about a forestry research center near the city that allowed you to learn more about he plants native to Malaysia and also hike through the trees on a walkway in the sky with great views of the area. It sounded awesome. The awesomeness of the place was confirmed when we saw wild monkeys as we entered the grounds.
We eventually found the office to get a map of the park. Disappointingly, we were told that the walkway in the sky was closed for maintenance, but we were given maps of the other trails in the area and brochures outlining the trees and plants we’d see including the worlds largest bamboo. How can you not be excited about the worlds largest bamboo. We were lastly cautioned that there “could” be “a few” (her words not the ones I would have used) leeches on the trails.
This made me nervous but I wanted to see some crazy Malaysian trees so we ventured cautiously onto the trails. Sheena was far less nervous about it than I was. She gawked and took pictures and paused to read signs. I marched through with my had pointed down searching for leeches. Occasionally I looked up when Sheena seemed overly excited about something and I was certain no leeches were in the vicinity.
After a couple hours of leech free hiking I let my guard down and we proceeded along one last path on the map. Perhaps we went down one path too many. On the map the trail seemed a short cut to a sight of interest. Shortcuts were important that day because of the high level of heat and humidity: the less walking the better sometimes. Half way down the trail I noticed some black “worms” on my shoes. I turned to Sheena, “Hey Sheena, check out these…” “Worms!” She screamed.
Suddenly our walk in the woods became a sprint.
We stopped only occasionally on logs and non leech covered surfaces to brush them off our shoes. At one point on the trail I looked down and saw a few dozen leeches staring up at me with crazed looks in their eyes. It was like in a cartoon where one character is so hungry they fantasize about their friend or companion being a large pork chop.
We eventually made it out of there and onto a paved, leech free, road. We were exhausted, physically from the running in the heat and mentally from the stress. However, we couldn’t rest just yet. We were still covered in leeches. These were aggressive suckers too, trying to wiggle through the mesh in our shoes and socks. Sheena even lifted her pant legs and found one latched firmly to her knee. So glad I didn’t wear flip flops that day.
For weeks I had dreams where I was running from and being attacked by leeches.
I’m beginning to wonder if there are times when I’m like a leech: latched to a life source sucking the blood out of it and growing fatter. I suppose that is true if the life source is a cookie jar. I must admit that the cornucopia of christmas baking before my eyes has led to some weight gain this Christmas season. However, what if I was latched onto the Bible the way that leech was latched to Sheena’s leg?
What if I was aggressively pursuing the word of God the way those leeches were aggressively wiggling their way through my shoes?
Those leeches instinctively head towards blood to grow fat and live on. Do I instinctively move towards the Bible to grow and live on?
Perhaps not as aggressively as I should. And even worse, I let go too easily of it. It was not easy getting those leeches to let go of their prize.
Perhaps, I need to hold as firmly to the Bible and work just as hard at getting more of it in me.
Perhaps I need to be more like a leech.
Since arriving home last week I’ve begun the process of applying for work. This is not a process that I particularly enjoy. Mostly because I’m not so keen on the rejection aspect of not getting hired. Anyone who attempts to downplay my own perceived awesomeness is generally not someone I enjoy speaking with. When I get all worked up thinking that I would be awesome for a position only to find out that my “should be” employer has a different understanding of awesome, I get kinda bummed out.
Applying for work however, is a good opportunity to review one’s list of abilities and gifts. This is where I need to become more honest with myself and accept that I cannot do everything. There are some jobs that clearly I am not qualified for. For example there is a job posted looking for a herds person/milker. They’re looking for a person who, among other things, has “sufficient experience with large animals.”
I don’t think they’re referring to my sufficient experience eating large animals.
Even if the idea of milking cows at 5am remotely interested me, this job is not one I’m suited for. (Besides, I don’t like to get dirty, and I would probably get fired for playing “hey cow” all day while driving the tractor.)
My point is, there are things I can do, and things I can’t. I am a good teacher. I love opening up the Bible and helping people understand it. In most cases I do a very good job of that.
I’m also good at building things: especially when those things are tree forts or made out of Lego (Hey Lego Land, call me I’m available to build tree houses out of lego.)
Now, considering my role in the work force looks differently than considering my role as a member of Christ’s body.
As our time in New Zealand was wrapping up Sheena and I met some people who had an over the top gifting in hospitality. Most people in New Zealand seemed to be good at showing hospitality, but there were a few women we met who clearly excelled.
We were traveling to visit a friend studying at Capernwray who used to be in our youth group. As we were turning into the schools driveway a large truck had different plans for our vehicle, and rubbed us off the road ending the life of our car. (See Picture above.) Fortunately every person was okay. We were, however, stuck in the New Zealand countryside with no place to spend the night.
Then we met these ladies, who worked for the college, and proceeded to show us genuine hospitality. They invited us in for the night and made up the most beautiful room I’ve ever stayed in. By far it was the nicest place we stayed all trip. There were robes at the foot of our bed and hot tea waiting to soothe us. They even gave us the last bit of milk on campus for our tea. No one else at the school got milk the next day because it was all in our room. (A fact we were unaware of until later the next day.)
We felt so blessed.
Sheena and I drifted to sleep that night discussing what we would have done if we were in the position of these ladies. I’m certain I would have responded differently. I don’t have much of a gift of hospitality, but does that mean that I shouldn’t make an effort?
Do I have the right to make no effort to help because I’m a teacher and not a host?
When Jesus told of the days of judgment when the sheep would be separated from the goats He never said: “I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me. But that’s okay because you have different gifting.”
I hear, from time to time, of people hiding behind their spiritual gifts - using their lack of a gift as an excuse for showing no effort in that area. For example they’ll say: “I don’t need to tell people about God because I don’t have the gift of evangelism.”
This is not why we have the Spirit of God within us.
While I may not apply for certain jobs because I don’t meet the qualifications, I do not have the right to stand idly by and watch people hurt.
Finally, a day to catch my breath. A morning to get up without the aid of an alarm clock. A day that might actually be a day of rest. A chance to write and share with you some thoughts from our travels.
We’ve been traveling now for three weeks. Our travels have been unpredictable, and full of adventure. For the longest time I thought I wasn’t learning anything on this trip. It turns I am learning stuff: just not the stuff I thought I would or should.
Sure, there are the silly little things you pick up along the way. There are lessons to be learned like why you should pack your toothpaste in your checked luggage, or that Singapore Airlines provides razors in the toilets, or that you shouldn’t push your wife really hard on children’s playground rides. Those sorts of things are a given. What I didn’t expect to learn was that I’m wrong about some things.
There are things in life that I believed are true. Now, however, my eyes have been opened to the realization that there is more out there then I thought. I always thought that a Vancouver Island rain storm was about the worst rain storm around. Turns out we’ve got nothing on a Singaporian down pour. And I always thought that the road to Tofino is the twistiest road on the planet. Turns out that Highway 25 in New Zealand is even worse. I mean the corners on that state highway 25 will twist your brain around something fierce. It’s amazing Sheena wasn’t hurling in the front seat.
I guess this is the real reason we should travel isn’t it. I mean, imagine if everyone stayed in their tiny little region thinking that their surroundings are all there really is–thinking their roads are the wettest or the twistiest. Well, they’d be wrong for one. But even worse they’d be ignorant.
Tomorrow we fly off to the south island of New Zealand. I’m excited about what I’ll learn there. I’m hoping that we’ll see penguins and perhaps the truth of their surfing exploits will be exposed.
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