Hope

Hope. I use the word a lot. I “hope” that the Longhorns will win the Big 12 this year. I “hope” that I will run a 3:45 time for my marathon in September. I “hope” that when I get home I will find the house in complete order. I “hope” but the reality is I don’t really expect to get anything I hope for. I may hope the Longhorns win this year, but after a long slide from the top of the pile in 2005, and the rebuilding of the program under a new coach, finishing in the middle of the pack is probably more likely. I may hope that I can run a sub-4 marathon in September, but the reality is I will probably hit somewhere around 4:15 and that is only if I am able to keep my mind sharp and my body together. I may hope that when I get home today I will find the house clean and sparkling, but the reality is that we have two tornados, ages 7 and 8 and they leave a path of destruction (and toys) everywhere they go. I hope for these and many other things, but the reality is I don’t really expect I will ever get them because my hopes have no connection with reality. My hopes are little more than far-off, impossible wishes which whet my appetite but never fill me up. As such, I give little weight to my hopes. My hopes have little impact on how I think or act. Why would they? I will never have them.

Every now and again, I bump into someone who, like me, has hope, but this hope impacts them in ways I do not understand. Like me, they hope for things they do not have, but they orient their entire lives around these hopes. They order their finances, adjust their schedules, plan their retirement, all around something they want but do not have. It seems crazy. Why would they do this? Everyone knows you only hope for things that are not possible, for things you want but will never have. These people seem not to have gotten that memo. It is almost as if they really do believe that though they do not presently have what they desire, one day they will. It is this one belief that transforms them.

It is their belief that they really will one day possess what they do not have that gives them a joy I cannot fathom. They seem to be implicitly happy, even when they have nothing to be happy about. Though, they would claim they do. They are going to get what makes them happy. It is their belief that they will one day possess that keeps them calm when they should be freaking out. At least, I would be freaking out! Yet, they are calm. They don’t seem worried. It is going to be OK. They are going to get what they really want. It is their belief that they will one day possess that gives them a courage I wish I had. They take risks, crazy risks, and do things I would only do in my dreams—and why wouldn’t they? No matter what they do, they know they are going to get what they really want. It is this belief, this amazing belief called hope which enables them to make it through life, all of it, with a grace and composure I wish I had. I want to be like them, but to be like them I have to have hope.

I want to hope like these rare individuals hope, but that means I have to know, really know that I will get what I long for. And, I have to long for something that really matters. Clean houses are great, but they are far from the stuff that gets you through life. As a follower of Christ, the thing I long for the most is God himself. I long to know God, to possess him and be possessed by him. When I catch glimpses of this I always want more. I am filled with a deep yearning to once more catch a glimpse of God because he is the one who makes me feel happy. Sometimes, on darker days, I will find myself thinking of how God is with me, knowing that one day I will catch more than just a glimpse of him. In these thoughts I find I am a bit stronger and a bit calmer, more able to keep moving forward. Sometimes when things don’t go my way and I get a little bit cranky about it (imagine that!), I will remind myself that God is with me and that he will one day take me fully to himself and I won’t have to worry about not having what I want or need because he will care for me. In these thoughts I feel encouraged and I am able to let the crankiness pass. It is these thoughts of God, of possessing him and being possessed by him that keep me going, that keep me moving day in and day out. Come to think of it. That sounds a whole lot like hope.


A fellow traveler,

Blake


What’s my next step?

We encourage you to consider engaging in the following as a way of deepening your own faith.

Experience God in suffering: Hope is a yearning for that which we know is possible. For the people of God, we hope that we will one day fully possess God and be possessed by him. We know this is possible because we now possess and are possessed by God’s Holy Spirit. We learn to hope when we depend upon the presence and power of God in our times of suffering (Romans 5.1-5). It is in suffering that we learn that God does not leave us or abandon us but that he remains with us. When we learn this, we long to possess more of this loving God. We hope! This week, consider an area or experience of suffering present in your life. As you engage this area in thought or physical experience, seek to pray Psalm 23, reminding yourself of God’s presence with you in the moment and in these experiences. Learn to depend on God in suffering rather than seeking to resolve the issue and end your experience with pain. In this experience, be open to God being enough. Allow him to carry you through and to comfort you. In this experience, you will taste and see God and his goodness and you will long for more. You will hope!

Faith

Faith. It is such an important part of the pursuit of Christ. In reality, the pursuit of Christ is in itself a “faith-journey.” Funny how something so important and central to following Christ has always been so difficult for me to figure out. It isn’t that I haven’t heard definitions or explanations. I have just struggled to fit faith into my daily routine.

When I first heard about faith, it was defined in terms which made it nothing more than a belief that God existed. To have faith was to know that God was real and that he loved me. I was comforted to know God was present and loving and I went for some time thinking I was faithful, until I was told that this wasn’t faith. Real faith meant giving my life to this present, loving God.  Somehow he wanted me to trust him, to orient my life around him, choosing to live on his terms rather than my own. So, I trusted him. At 11 years old I said, “Jesus I trust you.” Somehow I expected this simple prayer was going to initiate a life of complete trust in God, but it didn’t. Sure, I trusted him for the big stuff, namely making sure I got into Heaven when I died, but I didn’t trust him for anything else. I didn’t really know how (or desire much of the time) to orient my life around God and do things his way. So, I prayed and said, “I trust you with all the little things in my life,” only I didn’t. I wanted to (sometimes), but I didn’t. Trusting Jesus with all the small stuff was hard. Heaven? That was easy. Friends. Family. Finances. That was just the beginning of the hard stuff.

Over the years I would periodically “check in” with Jesus, letting him know that I wanted to trust him, even though I didn’t. Somehow I felt that these intermittent chats would, at best, express an acceptable desire to have faith. Sometimes we would chat weekly, sometimes monthly. A few times, I am pretty sure we endured a stretch of a year or longer. Finally, I had to be honest that I wasn’t really trusting Jesus, at least not with the little stuff. So, I did some poking around and was surprised to hear that what I was missing was something called “blind faith.” I wasn’t exactly sure what “blind faith” was but it sounded deficient in some way. It was, after all, blind. But, people assured me, blind faith was the way to go. I just needed to “let go and let God.” When I said I didn’t get it, people just said, “Just do it, Blake!” Not quite sure what I was supposed to do, but convinced that “doing it” was the solution to faith, I went out and just did it and ended up creating a few big messes along the way. Clearly I was doing it wrong, but I wasn’t sure just how I was supposed to do it right.

Finally, I came to the point where I had to admit I just wasn’t very good at this faith thing. I wanted to trust, but I found it difficult. I tried to trust, but often I failed. I offered my life, but then I would take it back. I was a complete and total failure at this faith thing, or so I believed, until someone pointed out that my struggle was actually pretty consistent with some other folks, folks whom were identified as people of great faith. I stepped out to depend on God, but then I would draw back and depend on myself. So did Abram (Genesis 12). I served Jesus in a purity of motive and conscience and then turned to selfishness and self-centeredness. So did Gideon (Judges 8.22-27). I pursued the things of God and then in the next breath pursued the things of pleasure. So did Samson (Judges 16). My faith came in fits and starts, in new beginnings and unpleasant endings. It was incomplete and met with doubt, and for a long time I thought I was doing it wrong. Come to find out, I was in some pretty good company, a company of people who were doing it right.

Somewhere along the way, I began to realize that the only thing I was doing wrong was in trying to do it all at once. Faith wasn’t a once-for-all thing I could do. It simply was not possible to “just have faith” and be done with it. Rather, for me, faith was made up of a series of small decisions, daily decisions to say “yes” to Jesus. Faith was saying “yes” to being kind before I had my coffee, and then saying “yes” to saying I was sorry for being rude before my coffee. Faith was saying “yes” to not screaming at the driver who cut me off and then saying “yes” once more to praying for him rather than glaring as I approached him at the red-light. Faith is saying “Yes” over and over again, even after I have said “no.” My faith grows in the thousands of tiny “yeses” I am willing to utter rather than in one big “yes.” It is in these thousands of tiny surrenders to Jesus that I am discovering faith to be something real, something present, and something sustaining. I am beginning to think that maybe, just maybe I can get to be good at this faith thing, so long as I take it one “yes” at a time.

A fellow traveler,

Blake

What’s my next step?

 

We encourage you to consider engaging in the following as a way of deepening your own faith.

Obey and Pray: The journey of faith is a journey made of thousands of daily surrenderings to God’s will. This week consider one area in which you might say “yes” to God’s call upon your life. This might be in the way you relate to a co-worker or a family member, the way you handle your finances, or even the putting off and picking up of new habits. Begin your journey by saying “Yes” to God’s call. When the next opportunity arises, strive to say “yes” once more. If you stumble into self-centeredness, simply express sorrow and ask for God’s forgiveness and grace to say “yes” to him in the next opportunity. Do not remain in the failure but surrender to God’s loving presence and power to move forward. This is in itself a form of saying “yes” to God. If you doubt the sanity of following God’s calling or are troubled by an unforeseen outcome, tell him about it and once more, ask for the grace to say “yes” to his invitation.

After you believe

My faith journey with Jesus began when I was 11 years old. In truth, having been raised in a Christian home, my faith journey probably began before that point, but when I was 11 I acknowledged that I wanted to follow Jesus. I can remember well the response of the small congregation in which I made public my decision to align myself with Jesus. Hugs. Tears. Congratulations. And, many, many statements about what an important decision I had just made. In the words of the pastor, “I had just made the most important, life-changing decision of my life.” Words like that were encouraging to an insecure, 11 year old boy. I couldn’t wait to see what they would entail.

Turns out I had to wait for a while, a long while. For the most part, my life changed little after that momentous decision. Life went on as usual, and I began to wonder just what was so momentous about what I had done. Ever the inquisitive fellow, I would ask those closest to me what was supposed to be happening in me and usually some sort of reply about joy, peace, Jesus being near and my friend were readily offered. Almost without fail, Jesus’ promise of abundant life was mentioned (John 10.10) and the conversation ended and the subject changed. It was almost as if everyone knew something I didn’t, but they didn’t want to talk about it. I kept asking and I kept getting the same answer followed by a change of subject. After a while, I really began to feel like an outsider. People knew something I didn’t and I wanted to know, so I stopped asking and started watching. As I watched, I began to realize the big secret no one wanted me to know.

The big secret was that following Jesus was such a big deal because nothing happened. Worry dominated. Anger still ruled. Angst was normal and cursing like a sailor was completely ordinary, at least among friends. Sexual immorality was OK, as long as it wasn’t on Sunday (morning, that is) and as long as you said you were sorry and felt bad about it. I could go on, but over time I began to discover that the big secret was there was no joy, no peace, no change. Jesus followers made a big decision to be just like everyone else! Some secret. I felt a little gypped, as if I had been cheated out of a year of Sundays and loads of fun shows which always seemed to premier when I was supposed to be at church.

I pressed in on those who were supposed to know best. Certainly this couldn’t be what I signed up for? Jesus promised that my life would be different if I followed him. For the most part, I just got blank stares. The most helpful patiently tried to explain that this is just the way it was. I was going to have to wait until heaven, to which I wanted to shout, “You mean I have to die to get what Jesus promised?” How come no one ever told me that before? Maybe the gospel should have been presented as, “Follow Jesus and then wait around to die to see anything happen!” No thanks. Had I known that I would have said, “NO, THANK YOU!”

Funny thing is, something gripped me and I couldn’t accept what I was hearing. So, I started reading Scripture, started praying, started asking Jesus about it rather than just people.  The more I pursued Jesus, the more I became convinced that Jesus didn’t misspeak when he promised abundant life. We just misheard. Here is what I mean. Jesus said that if we followed him we would find abundant life and we heard, “If you pray a prayer and sit in a pew you will find abundant life.” We heard something Jesus never said. Following, last time I checked, is a very active process. Following involves two parties, the one leading and the one following. There is interaction between the two and great attention is given by both to the other as they journey together. The leader moves forward and the follower seeks to imitate. This is the relationship to which Jesus called us, an active, ongoing relationship in which we are not finished after we begin to believe; our expression of trust in Jesus marks but the beginning of a new and wonderful journey. The biblical authors called this journey sanctification. Ancient Christian thinkers referred to it as the pursuit of virtue. I prefer to refer to it as taking up the life of Jesus, the practical outworking of following after him.

When I tried my new thoughts out on a few of those “wait around to die folks” I at best I got a patronizing look. At worst I got accused of working for my salvation. It seemed that the prevailing thought was we follow Jesus by doing nothing; but the words of Jesus wouldn’t let me go, nor could I forget the words of Paul to the Philippians telling them to “work out their salvation” (Philippians 2.12-13) and the Ephesians to put off old ways and to put on new ways of being in their following of Jesus (Ephesians 4.22-24). I could not put aside Peter’s discussion of the active and practical outworkings of grace, which by the way, looked nothing like doing nothing (2 Peter 1.3-5). So, a few years ago, after more than a few years of doing nothing, I decided to do something. I decided to follow. I decided to take a gamble and actually act on Jesus’ words, to take up this pursuit of virtue, this taking up of the life of Jesus. Here’s the funny thing. When I decided to do something, some things began to happen. In small ways and big ways, I began to look, to think, to experience life very differently. I catch glimpses of peace. I have been known to find myself experiencing joy. Anger has less and less of a grip on me. I suppose I could go on but let it suffice to say that the more I follow Jesus in this way, the more I realize that I have truly made the most important, life-changing decision in my life.

A fellow traveler,

Blake

What’s my next step?

We encourage you to consider engaging in the following as a way of handing off faith in your family.

Emphasize God’s love: Following Jesus is a journey, a journey which begins and is imbued with the love of God. If we are to follow and pursue his way of life, we must be secure that our pursuit of this life is motivated by the possession of God’s love rather than motivated as a means of possessing God’s love. As a family, you might consider ways of emphasizing God’s constant, never-giving-up, always-and-forever love. You might consider making the recognition of God’s love a regular part of thanksgiving at meals. You might also consider emphasizing God’s love by blessing your children each night with reminders that they are loved by God.

We encourage you to consider engaging in the following as a way of deepening your own faith.

Soak in God’s love: The journey of faith is a journey fueled by the love of God. Before we can begin this journey we must come to grips with the reality that we are surrounded with an unstoppable love which comes from God himself. This week consider memorizing and meditating upon Paul’s prayer about coming to grips with God’s love in Ephesians 3.16-19. Consider making this prayer your own, personalizing it and offering it to God throughout each day of the coming week.

Driven

So I have decided that I want a break. More than wanting, I need a break. I need to slow down, to put on the brakes, to come to a complete stop and rest. I want to honor God’s intentions for me, but I am struggling to do it. It seems that every time I try to slow down, I keep on moving. I am like a runaway truck, brakes locked and yet I am still rolling, the smell of my feeble attempts to slow down billowing in every direction.

I suppose it is easy to say, “Just stop,” but the reality is I can’t. I can’t seem to stop, and it isn’t due to a lack of trying, desire, or know how. All of these are present. They are simply overcome by a force greater than them. I keep on moving. I am driven to keep on moving. The question is “Why?”

Sometimes I find I am able to apply enough force to slow down to at least three-quarter speed, and when I do I ponder why I am moving, why I am so driven to move. In those fleeting moments of less than full-throttle I catch glimpses of what compels me forward: fear. Maybe fear isn’t the best word choice. The better word is probably anxiety or worry. So there it is. I am moving because I am worried, driven to keep on keepin’ on by my anxiety. But what do I have to be anxious about? How much time do you have?

If I look at what is, then I don’t have anything about which to be anxious. I have a loving family. I have friends. I am relatively healthy, and, thanks to my marathon training, getting healthier. I have more than I need. I could go on, but the reality is I am amply blessed. That’s not what I am worried about. I am not worried about what is. I am worried about what might be. I am worried about what you will think about me after our conversation, after my next sermon, after you finish reading this blog. I am anxious about what effects my attempts to raise our children will have when they are in high school. I am worried about what will happen if Addie keeps advancing in dance and what will happen if we do not push that. I question the best ways to develop Hayden’s creativity and what will happen if we don’t do everything possible to foster this.  I get concerned about staying healthy long enough to care for Rachel or if a double family history of Alzheimers will strike me and Rachel will end up caring for me. I am concerned about how I am going to do a much-needed remodel of our bathroom and whether I will have the stamina to finish my marathon in September. All of this was just in the past five minutes. We don’t have time to go through what is running through my mind now.

Here is the thing about my anxiety. It drives me. It drives me to work. It drives me to plan. It drives me to go above and beyond my limits for myself and others, all in an effort to make sure what I am anxious about never comes to be. Simply put, I can’t stop because if I stopped then all of my anxieties would move from possible figments of an imagined future to present realities now. I simply cannot let that be, so I keep on moving. Perhaps I am moving in an effort to be a moving target, my own effort to make sure my worst fears cannot catch me. The trouble is I am getting tired and I want to stop, but what will happen if I do?

I suppose the answer depends on whether I truly believe God exists and that he is loving, good and kind. If God does not exist then I cannot stop. I am on my own. It is me versus what could be. But, if he does exist, and if he is loving, good, and kind, then perhaps I could slow down. Perhaps I could stop. Perhaps I could rest, allowing him to handle that from which I am running.

A fellow traveler,

Blake

What’s my next step?

We encourage you to consider engaging in the following as a way of handing off faith in your family.

Cast anxiety upon God: Much of our drivenness as individuals and families stems from an intense feeling of anxiety about what will happen if we do not keep moving, attempting, experiencing. Such anxiety itself is rooted in a failure to believe that God will care for us by providing what we need. This week, consider fostering a trust in the hearts of your children that God will provide for our every need by memorizing Philippians 4.6. After you have memorized this verse, take time each day to pray as a family about that which you are anxious, entrusting God to handle what you cannot.

We encourage you to consider engaging in the following as a way of deepening your own faith.

Pause and pray: When we find ourselves unable to slow down, we usually are being driven by something, typically an anxiety or fear which may or may not be apparent to us. This week consider pausing when you find yourself moving quickly and asking God to show you what is driving you. You might ask, “God, what am I afraid will happen if I stop moving?” When God chooses to reveal what is behind your own drivenness, take it before God in prayer, asking him to provide in this area. You might use Philippians 4.6 as a model of what this type of praying looks like.

Limited

I have been running a lot lately. No, not the miles kind of running, though I have been running a good number of those, too. The kind of running I have been doing requires much more stamina than my marathon training. I find that lately I am running, running between meetings, running to appointments, running to sport practices, running to the grocery store, running late. It seems that no matter where I am or what I am doing, I am running. Now, don’t get me wrong. I love to run. There is nothing like lacing up my sneakers and heading out alone for a few miles. But, this kind of running is just not fun.

I don’t want to complain, but I can honestly say that this running is a real pain. I find that it leaves me breathless, and usually this happens before noon. This running is wearing me out and wearing my patience thin. I want nothing more than to stop running and catch my breath. I just don’t know how. Just when I think I can stop, something spurs me on. There is another meeting, another task, an extra practice, a can’t-miss opportunity. Just when I think I can’t put one foot in front of the other, I am pushed to keep going because “this is an emergency” or something requires immediate attention. I have become the running man and if it continues it just might kill me.

Lest I be viewed as soliciting pity, when I look up I see that you are running too, not with me, but running just the same. We pass one another in-between meetings and appointments. We both shake our heads, not at one another, but at our watches because we are both running late. We don’t even have time to say a quick “Hello” because we have no breath to spare. The time we sit next to one another at sports practice is no rest, for we both are plugged in and plugging away at what we didn’t finish before we rushed out the door to catch the school bus or to relieve the sitter. I can tell that you are having just about as much fun as I am, which for the record is not a lot. I can see in your eyes that you are not just tired but you are sick and tired of living this way, but like me you don’t seem to know any other way.

What if life could be different? What if there was space between our loads and our limits? What if we didn’t have to accomplish more than we had the time or energy for? What if we had time to slow down and greet one another as we passed? What if we had time to actually pause and look up at one another? What if we had time to breathe?

I know. Fantasy. Pipe dreams. The stuff of the lives of the rich and famous, but not the employed and nameless. Our lot is destined to be much different. We will work and work and work, until we can’t or it kills us. But what if it didn’t have to be this way? What if we had space, space to breathe?

A fellow traveler,

Blake

What’s my next step?

We encourage you to consider engaging in the following as a way of handing off faith in your family.

Practice the Sabbath as a family: Sabbath is the space that God instructed us to build in so that we could experience a gap between our limits and our loads. Sabbath is a time in which we slow down and rest, not as an option but as a regular way of being, a rhythm of living. This week, consider taking a Sabbath day as a family. As a family, do whatever relaxes and energizes you—with one condition. Seek to cease from all errands and tasks which are unnecessary. At the end of this day, chat as a family about what this experience was like and how you might make this a regular part of your family’s rhythm.

We encourage you to consider engaging in the following as a way of deepening your own faith.

Take a break: God did not design us to work, and work, and work. God designed us to live out a rhythm in which we work, rest, and then repeat. God built this rhythm of work and rest into the cycle of each day and into the rhythm of each week. This week consider honoring this intended rhythm of being by taking a break. If you are feeling bold, take an entire day (Sabbath) and do no regular work, not even a trip to the grocery store! Do whatever relaxes and energizes you. If you are feeling less courageous, honor the intended daily rhythm of being by setting a cut-off time for all work. You might consider a time like 7:30 p.m. to be done with all forms of work, including housework. After this time, seek to connect with family and friends and to rest. In addition, go to bed at a reasonable hour and seek to obtain at least 7 hours of sleep. Attempt this rhythm for a week and then chat with God about how you are feeling.

Just the way it is

When I was a kid, a popular series of books was published entitled Choose Your Own Adventure. Rather than reading these books cover to cover, the reader would read a few pages and then choose from a set of options as to how they would like the story to continue. I think I read almost every one of these books in my library. I simply loved the ability to control my own destiny, to be part of the story which was unfolding. However, there is one thing I did not like. I did not like the fact that I didn’t always know what story my choice would unfold. I didn’t like making a “bad” choice and ending up in some sticky situation. So, I cheated. Holding my place, I would skip ahead and review both options so that I might know what would happen should I choose one or the other. Knowing the possible futures, I would then choose how to proceed, knowing full well, of course, just how the story would unfold.

I can’t tell you how many times I have wished that life were as simple as one of those Choose Your Own Adventure books. Time and again I have faced down choices, forks in the road and wondered, sometimes aloud, what would happen should I make one choice or the other. Should I go right, or is it better to go left? What if I just did nothing? I strain to see what might be and stress over what might become, but no matter how hard I try, I simply cannot see how the story will unfold. I get scared of making the “wrong” choice and just about fret myself to death. I don’t know about you, but I really want to know. I want to know what will be the result of my choice.

I think most of us are wired this way. Perhaps a part of this is pain avoidance. We don’t like to hurt, so we don’t want to choose something that will hurt us or others. Perhaps part of our desire to know is rooted in our intolerance for failure. None of us likes to fail. It wounds our ego and our reputation. However true these may be, I don’t actually think they are what worry me most when I face down a significant choice. What bothers me most is wrapped up in my desire to make the best use of my time and life. Maybe it is because I am aging (I turn the ripe old age of 41 in just a few weeks and my kids think I am ancient), but I am coming to the point that I realize I don’t have all the time in the world. I finally realize that I am limited and I don’t want to waste my limited resources on paths that will not deliver. Simply put, I don’t want to waste my life. I want to choose those things that move me and others toward a God-intended significance. The only problem is I don’t always know what that is.

Oh, you caught that. That’s right. I don’t always know. There is one thing I do know. There is one adventure that is always a sure bet, and that is the adventure of joining with God in what he is doing in the world. I know what you are thinking. Why would I want to join with what God is doing? What can someone like me do in a world like this? I read the papers and catch the headlines. The world is a great big mess and the bottom line is I can’t do too much to effect change in this world. I get it that I am limited and the problems are huge. When I realize this I am tempted to do nothing. The problems are too big and I am too small. How about I just let God handle it in his time and his way? That sounds great, but I know something about God’s time and way. I have discovered that God doesn’t wish to change this world apart from me.

I know, that sounds weird and more than a bit presumptuous, but it is true. There is this divine-human tension in which I can’t do much but God doesn’t desire to do much apart from me. When I say “Yes” to God’s invitation to join him, amazing things happen, always. Yep, you heard it here. ALWAYS! I am discovering that the more I say “Yes” the more I see how these amazing things are not just outside me but they also take place inside me. I am transformed even as I witness God’s movement to transform what surrounds me. Sometimes that transformation is slow, like water wearing away layers of rock. At other times this transformation is like dynamite blasting away what seemed immovable. Regardless of the speed, it happens, every time. It is exciting and exhilarating to watch, even more so to know that it happens, in part, because I said “Yes” because I said, “I will choose that adventure.”

A fellow traveler,

Blake

What’s my next step?

We encourage you to consider engaging in the following as a way of handing off faith in your family.

Say “Yes” through service: God is doing much in this world, and he desires that we partner with him. It is in our partnership with him that we experience his transforming power personally and witness it in the world around us. This week, we invite you to consider how your family might partner with God. This partnership might be in the choice to care for an elderly neighbor on a regular basis, or to sponsor a child through a ministry like Compassion International. Your family’s choice will often be rooted in your personal context and fit with your passions. Agree as a family as to what your partnering with God looks like and then do it. Over time celebrate what you witness God doing through your family and in your family. You are part of a grand adventure!

We encourage you to consider engaging in the following as a way of deepening your own faith.

Partner with God: God can do great things but his desire is to do these great things through people like you and me. This week, consider asking God to open your eyes to what he is doing around you. As he begins to show you where he is at work, consider joining him in practical ways, knowing that his desire is to accomplish his work through people like you. If you do not know what partnering with God looks like specifically, you might consider participating in the Day of Compassion on May 31 or the Service Expo on June 1. 

God's story. My story.

Yesterday I realized that I had failed as a father with a simple pronouncement from our oldest. “I like black jelly beans. They are my favorite.” In that instant, I recognized that I had failed to raise up my child in the way she should go. How could it be that my child, the apple of my eye, should come to love black jelly beans, the bane of my existence? Oh, but the tragedy of my failure was far from short-lived, because the next words out of her mouth were, “Here Daddy, you can have this one. They are really good.” I wanted to curl up and die. I wished to evaporate in a puff of smoke, for now, now out of love for my daughter I had to place that bean that shall not be named in my mouth! The torment! The agony! The sheer betrayal. How could she not know? But she did know, and yet she behaved as if somehow she had missed how I truly felt about THOSE beans!

After I had recovered (barely of course!), I went about my life somewhat scarred but alive. With a bit of time and space, I began to ponder what had transpired, and I happened to wonder how many times I have done the same to my own father. How many times have I run to him holding up something I cherish, something I think is wonderful, something about which I know he does not feel the same. And yet, I think that somehow he should love it because I do.

I suppose I do this with many things, but what I offer him most is my religion. I have an assortment of practices and traditions of which I am very fond. There is nothing wrong per se with any of them. Some of them have been quite useful over the years. What draws me to them is that I can substitute these practices for myself. As I sit at my father’s table, and hear him ask for my attention, I am quick to say, “Here, have my Bible reading time.” He smiles but I can tell he is not really wanting that so I fish around for something else to offer. “How about that time I prayed?” This too is pushed aside. “I have this nice church attendance, and, OH, here is a lovely ten minutes of silence and solitude.” By now the pile is growing, and I am starting to wonder what my father really wants. I like these things which I am offering him. I like these things because they involve him but require so little of me. Ten minutes here. An hour there. An attendance, my physical but not necessarily my mental presence. All these I can do but then I am done. I am finished and free to go about my life, as I please. I love these things. They are deliciously sweet because they are easy. Check a few boxes. Engage in a few activities and I have a lovely assortment of things to offer my father. The only problem is that he doesn’t like these things. . .and I know it.

I keep hoping that one day he will decide to try one of them. I do so love them. Why can’t he love them like me? He is always kind and gracious when I offer them, but I can tell that they are not what he wants, not what he really wants. He just doesn’t seem to be all that fond of these things which involve him but require so little of me. Sometimes we chat about these things. We chat about how he wants me, all of me. I listen, but inside all I can think about is my precious practices and traditions. What about them? Why can’t he just love them? After all, they involve him and they require so little of me and I think that is wonderful. I like the freedom to live, to move, to do as I please, but this seems to be the problem. My father only seems to be interested in me.

Not too long ago, my father and I had a chat in which I expressed that I didn’t really see the point in all of this. What was so great about having me when he could have all these things that involve him and so little of me? Wasn’t it all about him anyway? With love and patience, he explained that he wanted me because he had big plans for me. He had some things he wanted for me. Actually, he wanted me to join him in some things he was doing, but that meant he had to have me, all of me. I have been thinking a bit since that talk. I still really like a few of these things I have been offering but I keep wondering about what could be, what could be if my father had all of me?

A fellow traveler,

Blake

We encourage you to consider engaging in the following as a way of deepening your own faith.

Offer yourself to God: In a relationship with God, God’s greatest desire is to possess us and not that we offer him religious traditions and practices. It is in the offering of ourselves to God, specifically with regard to justice, in the giving of ourselves to that about which God is most passionate, that we discover and experience a deep and abiding presence of God’s person. However, offering ourselves, or giving ourselves to that about which God is most passionate, does not come naturally. We would like to offer God anything other than ourselves. This week, consider taking some time to begin the journey of giving yourself fully to God. You might do this by sitting (or even lying!) before God. Starting with your feet, offer each part of your body and the ways in which you use them to God. Consider offering them not just to God but for the very things about which God is most passionate.