So here is a lament for Uvalde. It’s godly sorrow. Heartbreaking. Emotionally crushing. And so applicable to the tragedy.

At this writing, the funerals have begun. We are all impacted, and while we don’t grieve in the same way as those who lost loved ones, we still grieve.

I don’t know how I should respond, but I will offer some thoughts. We certainly can all use some comfort right now.

Disclaimer: If you’re looking for some sort of political or policy statement from me, you obviously don’t know me. I ain’t going there. I do have some strong, even passionate opinions, but this isn’t the place. This is a time for lament for Uvalde.

Maybe we can help each other cry.

1. We can show empathy with our laments. When we get horrific news, we can easily be overwhelmed. This is normal – shock, disbelief, even physical sickness can be present. We say things like “I can’t imagine what those mamas, daddies, family members, friends are going through.” That statement, of course, is true. Even if you’ve faced unimaginable tragedy, you aren’t in the same place as those others are. You might rightfully wonder how you’d react if you were there, but you can’t know unless you experience it first hand. Still – empathy does put us in a place of caring and, in some fashion, helps us imagine. I’m a parent and a grandparent, and that’s my point of empathy.
2. We can respond with “thoughts and prayers.” This action is part of lamenting, but in our culture the idea of “thoughts and prayers” seems pretty lame in the eyes of many. “We need to do something!” folks cry. Agreed. I’ll touch on that in a minute. But immediately after a tragedy, what else do you have? What else can you offer? Thoughts and prayers are totally appropriate. When evil intrudes, it’s entirely possible to push back through prayer. As believers, prayers offer courage and fortitude. Prayer is instinctual. And it’s okay to pray for yourself. That’s not being selfish. That’s just acknowledging you need Jesus. And I’d encourage you to ask others to join you in prayer. We can corporately offer a lament for Uvalde.
3. Lament doesn’t mean that you are asking God to instantaneously set all things right. He could do that, I suppose, but rather than asking Him to fix things, how about just focusing on His mercy for those hurt in the tragedy first?
4. Some questions that would bring about lament would include “Why do wicked people so often have their way, and good and godly people suffer?” In the most agonizing way, it’s accusing God of not acting or intervening. But – this is not necessarily being blasphemous. It’s really a part of faith. Jesus expressed this lament from the cross: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” It is simply being honest and allowing your soul to cry out.
5. God is patient with evil. Sometimes it seems as if evil flourishes unchecked. This is a hard one. It’s a primary reason that many never pursue Christ.  All about us, we see evil personified. This is one forevermore fallen world, and we are here in this place for a season. Here’s a paradox, though: In the midst of suffering, heartache, violence, and pure wickedness, the grace of God flourishes. When we experience the worst, we still see evidences of goodness, holiness, compassion, and healing. Jesus’ cry from the cross I mentioned above? At the crucifixion and those days in the grave, we see man’s worst and God’s best. God offered salvation, and He did it by showing His power to bring life from death. It’s never too late to pray for healing and redemption.
6. Deeds, not words? How about both? You might not be able to be physically present, and therefore can’t do anything “hands on,” but that’s where prayer comes in. We don’t need to think about acting in any fashion without praying first. If we act without prayer, we can’t empathize. That’s part of our lament for Uvalde.
7. Lament means that there is no collision of ideals between praying and acting. Is it possible to pray without acting or act without praying? Sure it is, but they don’t cancel each other out. Because …
8. It is wrong for us, as believers, to act instead of praying. That implies that true goodness can grow from somewhere else besides God, Who is the only One Who is truly good. Sure, it’s possible to do good deeds, and act with integrity. I’d contend that, for those of us who are believers, that not praying before acting is putting the spiritual cart before the horse. Now, people who don’t share our faith won’t agree. For us, we defer to the wisdom of God first. Then we act. Please don’t misunderstand – there are times when you do act before praying – if your child has wandered out in the street in front of an oncoming car, you don’t need to pray about rescuing him. You know what I mean.

How much more grief can this old world stand? How long shall we lament for Uvalde?

As a believer, remember we follow the Suffering Servant. He is also the Wounded Healer. There is so much we don’t understand, and this side of eternity, will not understand. Still, God’s goodness isn’t up for debate. Against the backdrop of the Cross, I accept – even when I can’t understand – that He loves this world more than I ever could.

I wish I had some way of putting a nice bow on today’s blog, to offer some sort of closure. I just don’t have anything to offer right now.

Come Lord Jesus.

Talk later.

Really, now, who wants to be uncomfortable?

Back around Thanksgiving of last year, some of you consistent readers might recall that I broke my left shoulder. I took a vertical dive onto a brick sidewalk.  I was spared from surgery, thank God. I went through weeks of physical therapy, which was a joy. Not. I knew I had to do it, and I was compliant. “Uncomfortable” doesn’t even come close to expressing how it felt.

At home I slept in a reclining chair for weeks. I had to buttress my left arm up with pillows. There was one elusive position I could get in that would keep me from being totally uncomfortable. Once I got hunkered down, I avoided moving.

I missed my left arm. I’m left-handed, so that was a real inconvenience. Limited mobility? I couldn’t reach around behind my back to get my wallet. Getting dressed was a crazy challenge, since I couldn’t easily raise my arm above my head. And I need to mention bruised ribs, too – while they weren’t broken, they might as well have been. It hurt to breathe, and a cough or sneeze would set me wailing.

Those were uncomfortable days. Know what, though? I’m still uncomfortable, even after all this time.

The good doc at Mississippi Sports Medicine has been all chipper and upbeat about all this. He said I was doing fine, that nature would take its course, and that I’d be back up to speed by July 4 or so. That’s insane. Healing shouldn’t take that long, but by golly, it does.

Getting out of bed? Because I can’t push off with my left arm, I have to roll over on my side, kick back the covers, and sling my legs off in tandem. The leverage I get from that helps me sit up, without having to use my arms much. It’s a sight to behold,I can assure you. 

Even as I’m sitting here tapping away at a keyboard, I’m aware of my messed-up shoulder. If I nurse it, I’m okay, but sometimes just the wrong move, the wrong reach, and I am acutely aware that there’s still some healing to do.

But being uncomfortable has proven to be a pretty decent life lesson. 

With my extraordinary gift of being able to torture a metaphor, here’s what I’m learning.

1. God enjoys seeing me uncomfortable. It’s because He didn’t call me to be comfortable. If we’re comfortable, chances are that we’re passive, too. We aren’t doing anything to get us out of that venerable comfort zone.
2. He wants me to trust Him completely. If I’m comfortable, then I’m less likely to take risks. I’m not talking about mindless risk-taking. I’m talking about being happily discontent to the extent that I don’t “settle.”
3. He wants me to be unafraid to put myself in situations where I’ll be in trouble if He doesn’t come through.

I need to unpack that last statement just a little.

As believers, it’s really easy to play it safe spiritually. We can work on our personal relationship to God, nurturing ourselves, and be all content when we’ve checked all the boxes. 

I’m stating that God can engineer circumstances in which we’ll be very uncomfortable. It’s when things don’t make sense, and our reason crashes into a wall, that we are desperate to have some direction and counsel from God.

Problem is, we like to be self-sufficient. We think that will keep us from being uncomfortable. After all, we subconsciously think that we can master our own fates.

“I got this” is the phrase we love to use. Well, my experience has shown me that I just think I got this. 

To be uncomfortable spiritually is evidence that we’re looking to our own understanding rather than letting God order our steps. I think discomfort expands exponentially to put us in an attitude of dependence. We’ll be uncomfortable as long as we try to run the show. I hate to disillusion you, but we just aren’t that good at managing our own lives. 

So – I think God gets a holy kick out of making sure that we don’t become too at ease. I think He wants us to be brave enough, by His grace, to put ourselves in situations in which He has to come through or we’re sunk.

That’s part of the adventure of being a believer. We position ourselves – or allow ourselves – to be put in a place where God gets to be God. It’s a real treat to step back, slack-jawed, and acknowledge that what just happened was a God-thing, unexplainable by any other circumstance. 

Being uncomfortable is a gift. It keeps us from stagnating. It puts us on the frontiers of what God wants to do in us and through us.

It took a broken shoulder for me to understand it. Maybe you’ll get it without having to fracture something.

Talk later!

Do you tell yourself there’s a thing you can’t do? What is it, and why is it an issue?

There’s a concept out there called “self-limiting beliefs.” You can take a look at what that’s about here. The term crops up in personal growth or self-help literature. Basically, self-limiting beliefs are assumptions or perceptions that you’ve got about yourself and about the way the world works. These assumptions are “self-limiting” because in some way they’re holding you back from achieving what you are capable of. It’s that thing you can’t do. Or “things,” perhaps.

I tend to be mildly skeptical of too much motivational rah-rah stuff. Usually it’s because I’m seldom served steak with the sizzle. There are some folks out there who have done a great job of giving me good content. I’m a huge Zig Ziglar fan … if I look out my office window, I can see the old YWCA where he met his wife. Zig’s teachings are sound, and I’ve come to believe over the years he’s the real deal. I am also fond of Brian Tracy and Jim Rohn.

I’ve listened to and read these guys. They’ve often been helpful. Still, there is sometimes a gap between what I should be capable of and what I’m actually doing. I, in Christ, want to be the very best I can be.

How do I explain that thing I can’t do?

You’ve most likely heard me say that the reason I’m still alive – and the reason you’re still alive – is that you haven’t accomplished what God put you here to do.

I’m 65. I should know that by now, don’t you think?

I never thought of “building a career.” I’m not interested in climbing some ladder. Whatever assignment the Lord had me in, then that’s what I wanted to be about.

But that thing I can’t do? It’s always out there.

I might be talking to myself here, but I also hope I’m talking to you. I’m wondering if, in your own life, there is a thing you can’t do. That one thing – or maybe things – that are just out of your reach.

If I were giving out assignments, I’d have you name just one thing you can’t do, and then why you can’t do it. That could be very revealing.

I thought about sharing mine. I decided it’s none of your business. *snort*.

With all that as background, let me give you something to ponder.

Ancient script says, in Ephesians 3:20-21, ”Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us,to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.”

I mean. Dad-GUM.

Unpack that.

• Imagine the future God has for you.
• Chances are your God is too small.
• There is infinitely more that He wants to give you than you could even ask for.
• God knows your motives and desires. But even those deepest desires don’t meet the depths of that “immeasurably more.”

Don’t misunderstand. This isn’t some genie-in-a-bottle, name-it-and-claim-it bogus teaching. But there’s a lot going on here, and it should encourage us greatly.

What’s the call for us to do to deal with that thing you can’t do? Here are six.

1. Ask God to show you the bigger plan. Not just what’s happening now, or what has you bogged down. Go big.
2. Acknowledge He does have a plan. He isn’t sitting around, scratching His head, trying to figure out what to do with you.
3. Ask, seek, find. Duh.
4. Is there anything keeping you from experiencing God’s joy? Here’s what’ll fix that: your imagination can’t comprehend what He is capable of doing. That’s some joy giving right there.
5. Look at that scripture again. Your two key words? Able and accomplish. Most of us grasp the “able” part. Of course He’s able to do anything. But we get tangled up with the “accomplish” part. That’s where we fail. Well, pilgrim, if He’s able, He can accomplish whatever it is in our lives that will bring honor to Him.
6. This is all about “abiding.” He works within. The power of God resides in you. Measure your hopes and dreams against that.

Want some more? Check out 2 Corinthians 9:8:

And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.

That thing you can’t do? Check this out:

He does great things in us so that He can be glorified. How do your plans bring Him glory? Because if they are of Him, then that thing you can’t do has already been done. You just have to embrace it and live it.

This sounds sort of preachy, and that’s not my intent. Bottom line: Don’t talk yourself out of doing something you should do. In Him, you are good enough.

As God sent Jesus, ask Him to send you. That thing you can’t do will be conquered. Don’t be held back by small dreams. Ask God to give you a glimpse of His plans for you.

Talk later!

“I’m sorry.” Do those words ever stick in your craw?

I was chatting with a friend a while back, and he told me that he’d never heard his father say “I’m sorry.” I’ve thought a lot about that since then, because I’ve learned that this isn’t an isolated incident.

In the case of my friend’s father, it looks like a generational thing. Perhaps there was a time in our history when saying “I’m sorry” undermined authority.

Those of you of a certain age might remember the book and movie, Love Story. The catchphrase from that was “love means never having to say you’re sorry.” Well, who the heck came up with that? I know that in our househ0ld I have to continually apologize because, well, on some days I’m an insensitive idiot.

With our grandkids, I see brawls break out randomly. It’s usually toy related. You know, “What’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is mine.”

We are spared from day-to-day discipline with those kiddos. Which is fine. We put in our time with their parents. But one thing I hoped we were able to do was teach them to apologize to each other.

I’m sorry. I’ll put that right up there alongside “please” and “thank you.”

Flash forward. Is saying “I’m sorry” a skill you have? Or is that annoying and useless?

Look. I’m not advocating “peace at any price.” While I tend to go along to get along, that’s not the same thing as humility. It’s saying, “well, dang. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

That gives you a great deal of power, simply because you’ve taken the higher ground.

Diving deeper, is there anything you absolutely couldn’t apologize for? What is that? And I’m not getting into the issue of unrestricted forgiveness – that’s another blog. Actually, I think I’ve addressed that plenty of times.

It seems there might be a genuine art to apologizing, to saying “I’m sorry” and meaning it.

Here’s three steps to apologizing:

1. Humble yourself and confess up – you’ve hurt another human being. There are times when we unintentionally hurt others, but what I mean here is when you act with the intent to wound. Question – what in the name of perdition would make you want to do that? Who wins in that scenario? There’s an argument that it might make you feel better to be cruel and vindictive, but life experience has also taught us that that to live in that state corrupts your soul. Long term, you feel lousy. As that great theologian Elvis Presley sang, “Don’t be cruel.” Whether you hurt someone physically or with words and actions, recognize you’ve wounded someone.
2. Tell – using words! – the person you’ve hurt that you understand what you did was wrong. You’ve seen this – maybe even experienced it: Something along the lines of “tell your sister you’re sorry.” And the other sibling mumbles “I’m sorry” with absolutely no sincerity or acknowledgement. I’m not so sure that this doesn’t happen with adults. You apologize, you say “I’m sorry,” but there is a total disengagement between lips and heart. The key is to genuinely understand what you’ve done and what motivated it. That calls for some self-awareness and a real gut check. Do it anyway.
3. Lean into the apology. Apologize. Mean it. Say “I’m sorry.” Hug it out, if that’s appropriate. And – a biggie! – move on. It’s rear view mirror stuff from there on. Nursing a grudge, brooding over past slights, and looking for an excuse to be mean again – that’s not gonna move the moral needle in your life.

Want to be eternally angry and bitter? Never say “I’m sorry” and mean it.

There’s a basic principle here that needs to come into play. It’s simply to keep short accounts. That will make you strong.  It’ll help you build strong relationships, in families and other relationships. Once a wrong has been committed, apologize as soon as possible. Don’t let it fester.

If you’re a parent and you’ve hurt your kid in some way – maybe by not listening to them, losing your patience, yelling at them – say “I’m sorry.” You are not an infallible parent. Your kids know that anyway. It’s not going to undermine your authority. If anything, it’ll give real credibility because you’ve demonstrated you really care.

If you’re a kid, it’s the same thing. Going for that “gotcha!” with your mama or daddy isn’t going to make things any better. You blew it. It happens. Acknowledge that, say “I’m sorry,” and move on.

Move on. That causes relational miracles.

These little principles work with other relationships, too. In dealing with your friends, do the same thing. And if you want to go really audacious, apologize to your boss for being mouthy. Or if you’re a boss, tell your employee “I’m sorry” when you’ve mishandled him or her in some way. It’s easy enough to say “it’s not personal, it’s business.” Well, friend, it is personal whether we want it to be or not. Act accordingly.

So keep those short accounts. Even when you don’t want to apologize and say “I’m sorry,” show some backbone. Have the strength and courage to humble yourself and admit you messed up.

It’s Matthew 5:25, right?

Settle matters quickly with your adversaries.

You’ll feel better. Promise.

Talk soon!

“You have a bad attitude.”

Lord knows I’ve used that phrase a gazillion times over my years in youth ministry. Kids would come slumping into the youth room and just glare at me, as if saying, “Prove to me this is worth my time.”

With my own kids, I didn’t use that phrase much. If they rolled their eyes at me, or gave me any other body language hints, chances are we’d have some intense fellowship.

So. You ever have one of those weeks when it seems like the cosmos is conspiring against you? That hammers your attitude. It gives you an excuse to have a bad one.

I had one of those weeks a while back. I was mightily annoyed at the world. It started one morning when I had to buy gas. I watched that counter on the pump speed along, and I got to the point where I felt like I needed to look under the car to see if gas was leaking on the ground. Whatcha gonna do?

There was a hiccup at work that I made a much bigger mental deal out of than I should.

I was sidelined with the Mother of All Migraines.

I felt like my relationships – basically, all of them – were out of whack.

Several people that I love much were and are facing legitimate crises. Here comes Tony, riding in on that white steed, ready to rescue folks from their woes. I was by-golly gonna fix things.

And the chickens aren’t laying because they’re moulting. Oh, horrors!

And you’re saying, dang, Tony. Get over yourself. None of that is all that awful. You need an attitude adjustment.

Hey, guess what? You do too. If not now, you will soon enough.

What happens to most of us is that we get so annoyed that we start making bad decisions that can lead to even worse ones. You end up with awful consequences and circumstances. and you know they’re self-inflicted. It’s a vicious cycle.

So, operating like I tend to do, I thought way too much about my attitude and how to fix it. I came up with five truths, and a couple of ’em ain’t so pleasant. Stay with me; I’ll see if I can end on a positive note. These aren’t in any particular order.

ONE – It can get worse. Often it will.

This is me belaboring the obvious. Don’t ever say it can’t get any worse. You’ve no doubt experienced it – it’s like not being able to catch a break. It can be pretty benign things, like watching grocery prices skyrocket. Or it can be a loved one who is sick, and instead of getting better, gets sicker. This isn’t me being pessimistic; I’m just noting what I’ve observed and experienced. Welcome to the club, right? This can really work on your attitude.

TWO – No matter what you do, you can’t stop life’s bad turns.

Accept this as the bitter truth it is. But it’s not really bitter, now is it? Because those bad turns will test you, sift you, refine you, and purify you. Someone will badmouth you. Your plans get scrapped or defeated. You can get hurt physically, mentally and emotionally. But at this point your life can take a dramatic turn for the better once you learn and internalize that truth. The universe isn’t out to get you. But there are plenty of things you’re powerless to stop.

THREE – You can live happily in spite of life’s ups and downs.

My fingers are typing that, but my mind and heart are trying to reject it. Here is rock-solid truth, though, and it exists outside of your opinion: You can live happily when you depend on Jesus Christ daily and trust in God’s sovereignty and purposes. I mean, sheesh, one of the most beloved verses in all of scripture addresses this. Paul learned how to be content no matter what – he realized that he could do all things through Christ who gave him strength.

I hope you can see that through a fresh set of eyes. We all wear me-centered contact lenses, and that doesn’t help our attitude at all. The trick is to see yourself and your world through God’s eyes – believers are supernaturally equipped to do that – and once that happens, you can be freed from your circumstances. I wish I had a one-two-three outline that would teach you how to do that. I don’t. I just know it’s promised.

FOUR – How you react is more important than what happens to you.

Oh, man. Read that again.

Because, for the most part, you can’t do squat about what happens to you. What you can do – and what you have to do to fix your attitude – is understand you do have control over your response to hard times. It’s called the power to choose, and if there were superpowers available to anyone, this is one you’d want.

Your response to situations can be personally enlightening. Your response is what you are. 

This is a spiritual act of worship, if you want to take a look at the first few verses of Romans 12. The authentic truth is that you have to decide who is in charge of your attitude. Finally –

FIVE – God is the one Who allows – even wills – things to happen, and that includes everything that enters your life.

It comes down to who’s in control of your attitude. Am I right?

If you keep your own counsel, internalize your frustrations, and nurse your rotten attitude like a growing plant, you are in for an unpleasant life.

Here’s our assignment: When you’re frustrated, irritated, or even feeling crushed and overwhelmed, do a gut check and determine why you feel or are responding that way. This means you’ll have to disengage emotionally, as best you can. Look at what got you to this state.

Here’s where the dreaded “D” word comes into play. You have to discipline yourself to use God-centered vision instead of me-centered vision. And here’s where the power to choose comes in. You can choose how you want to view things.

At that point, you can anticipate a little miracle. God will adjust your attitude. You’ll be able to discern His hand, even if it doesn’t make sense.

Ancient script says this, in Philippians 2:5 and 4:12-13:

Adopt the same attitude as that of Christ Jesus … I know how to make do with little, and I know how to make do with a lot. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being content—whether well fed or hungry, whether in abundance or in need. I am able to do all things through him who strengthens me.

Talk later!

Doesn’t “getting rest” sound appealing? Not rest in the sense you need to recharge before taking on some other task. Rather, it’s just getting rest because you are supposed to get rest.

I ran across this on someone else’s Instagram page:

I had to check out The Nap Ministry, and I found that they aren’t a Christian site, so I want to be wary about the term “ministry.” Still, the sentiment expressed here fits in well with the ancient mandate of Sabbath. That’s not something we do well in 2021, at least here in the West, or the United States.

We equate busyness with godliness. Where’d that come from?

Face it: You are probably carrying a much greater load than you should be. We all do. We have obligations, responsibilities, and simple work that we think we have to fulfill.

I’d suggest that if we don’t have ways to lighten that load, we’re gonna ultimately be crushed, of no use to ourselves or anyone else.

There’s a component of guilt involved in this situation, too. We feel we’re totally and uniquely responsible for doing our duty. Well, we are obligated to our duties. Problem is, we struggle to distinguish what our own duties are, and invariably we load more stuff on ourselves. Then we hold out our martyr cards for someone else to punch, and we get a sick satisfaction out of knowing we’ve worked and served really hard.

“Getting rest,” then, seems to be the same as being lazy.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

You’re probably already ahead of me on this, but ancient script says this in Matthew 11:28-30:

²⁸ “Come to me,all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.²⁹ Take my yoke upon you and learn from me,for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. ³⁰ For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

From time to time, I’m asked if I have a “life verse.” I really don’t – it just depends on what season of life I’m in at any given time, and often I’ll find a passage that speaks to me. This one is especially resonant these days.

Know why? I’m tired.

I’m tired of meanness. I’m tired of people shaming each other because they don’t see things the same way (in politics, in pandemics, in a whole host of other areas.) I’m tired of people going for the “gotcha” on social media. I don’t want to assume motives on the part of others, but it seems that some are trying to persuade their peers to come around to their way of thinking.

Let me say that implying the other person is an idiot is not a good way to win fans. And while I love a funny meme as much as the next person, it doesn’t hurt to do a motive check before posting. Are you trying to be helpful, encouraging, or just plain funny – or are you getting some sort of validation by displaying your superior, smug attitude because you know better than everyone else?

I know I’m coming across as sanctimonious. Moving on … we were talking about getting rest, right?

Backing up to my scripture reference … there are plenty of reasons to turn to Jesus in these days (and, of course, there are always plenty of reasons to do so!) Sometimes we need healing, other times purpose, and always we need encouragement. Maybe we don’t come to Jesus because of stress and the need for rest like we should.

I’m talking about the kind of stress that comes from a tired mind and weary soul. Lets’s collectively ‘fess up – at some point, we’re all gonna deal with either tension, worry, fear, anxiety, depression, or a combination of all these. That’s why that photo I posted above might be helpful.

But, that’s just a short-term fix. Because at some point, you have to get up from that nap and re-enter the external world.

You’re gonna be impressed with my grasp of the obvious here, but the only thing that will help is God Himself. Just spending time with Him alone.

I think so many of our problems in life grow from our inability to simply be still.

It’s matter of sitting down with God, asking “Is there anything you need to tell me?” And then just shutting the heck up and listening.

Another issue? It might be that you are trying to control too much.

You think everything relies on you, and you’re responsible for making it all right.

This is a tough one for me. I have never perceived myself as being a control freak – a tendency I see in others that drives me nuts – but I do see that there are plenty of times when I want others to be getting rest while I sacrifice my own need for rest for them.

Well, Tony, you are not the Assistant to the Holy Spirit. I can resign and the world won’t fall apart.

Since most of us don’t live in an agrarian society any more, the concept of being yoked doesn’t mean a lot. The illustration Jesus is going for here is the picture of two farm animals, oxen, specifically, being bound together with their necks in a piece of wood called a yoke. That yoke halves the load for those animals. It’s a partnership.

We were never designed to carry all the stress in our lives by ourselves. I mean – duh – Jesus is saying He’ll carry part of the load for us. It’s how we’re hardwired as believers – we’re supposed to depend on Him.

One part of this yoke analogy we don’t think about is that the yoke is also a symbol of control. Oxen are yoked together because the farmer wants them to move in the same direction.

My admittedly obvious observation is that we can get in serious trouble when we don’t go in the same direction as Jesus. We experience stress and grief when we try to do things our own way.

I mean – we’re always gonna be yoked to something – other’s expectations, our perceived necessity to the world, or even our own selfish wants.

If I’m gonna be yoked to something, then, I want it to be the easiest yoke I can choose. Getting rest is the result.

Jesus wants us to learn humility and gentleness from Him. That’s the opposite of arrogance and aggression. That’s one reason that, as of late, I’ve tried not to post anything on social media that isn’t positive, uplifting, or funny – and that means not trying to be funny at the expense of someone else. (And, as I’ve often noted, humor is in the eye of the beholder, and my sense of funny and yours might not match up. But I mean no harm!)

Ultimately, you are not in control of everything in your life. You might jump way out ahead of what God is teaching you, and the consequences of your words and actions can come back and bite you in the nether regions.

The antidote, then, is to trust Him. If getting rest is what you need, here’s a promise you want to claim.

Talk later!

Love all, serve all, get punished. My goodness. There’s all sorts of irony in the title of this blog.

When I cobble these posts together, I purposefully try to be as broad as I can for people all along the faith spectrum. Most of the time, I’m writing what I want to hear for myself. I just kind of let you sit in.

Today, though, I am more in the camp of believers, Christians.

If you are a Christian, how well do you love? Do you love all?

You know I’m not talking about love in the sense of romantic love, or even love among friends and family. I’m not even talking about self-love, which is a big deal.

Nope – I’m talking about supernatural, God-ordained love.

That kind of love operates separate from feelings. It’s a love that is actually an act of the will. It’s a love that can’t be self-generated. It has to come from another source outside ourselves.

Because, y’know, in and of ourselves I simply don’t think we have the capacity for that kind of love, even though we’re to love all. 

Here’s my autobiographical note: This actually comes easy for me. It’s a capacity for love that God just has seen fit to give me, and I’m grateful for that. I can say without hesitation that, to the best of my knowledge and heart, I love everyone.

Which is NOT to say that I care to keep company with everyone. There are some people I’d just as soon see going as coming.

And, of course, there have been people who’ve hurt me.

What’s your response to that? Unless you’re a hermit (and some days that seems appealing – like my friend Becky Brown noted, “I could easily be a hermit, but God won’t let me”), you have had someone – or maybe multiple someone’s – wound your soul.

You’re gonna have to look hard to find benefit in that, right?

The benefit comes in how you respond to being hurt.

Talk about self-revelatory! Hurt can teach you an awful lot about yourself.

So. Are you a grudge holder? Do you erupt in Jovian anger? Do you retreat just to sulk and brood? How about plotting revenge? Is that you?

Well, how about this in response to hurt: be kind. Love all.

Stay with me here, because I’m not being patronizing.

I will tell you that the world may not look favorably on you if your response to hurt is to be kind. That’s not the way things work, right?

Some of the kindest Christians I know have lived in a world that wasn’t so kind to them.

That is so intriguing. Not only does it fly in the face of conventional wisdom, it doesn’t even really make sense. That is not a typical response.

Yet there are those who have been through so much at the hands of others, and they love deeply. They still care.

Are there steps one can take to reach that state? Can you really love all?

I’m not sure. I do know that it isn’t something to be found in our sinful, carnal nature. It has to come from a different place. I dunno. Some people relish unforgiveness. I’ve never known of a time when forgiveness was anything other than a virtue.

In giving this a lot of thought over the years – the reason why people choose not to forgive – I have come up with a handful of “why’s,” possible reasons why people cling to this unique misery of unforgiveness.

• They don’t understand mercy. Mercy is one of the most divine of all traits. We are simply thunderstruck by Jesus’ words from the Cross – “Father, forgive them, because they don’t know what they’re doing.” That’s mercy, right there, all encapsulated in a magnificent example of forgiveness.
• They prefer a hard heart to a tender one. Perhaps being tender hearted is viewed as weakness. I’d suggest that it’s a whole lot more courageous to be tenderhearted than it is to take a hard line.
• We are fallen people living in a fallen world. It’s hard to to be kind when the whole of civilization seems to want us to be harsh and inappropriately aggressive. I see so much hatefulness everywhere I turn. This is not, nor will ever be, a “political” blog, but given the current state of things … I mean. Mama said “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.” Looking back, that might be a lot more wise (or certainly more kind) than I used to believe. What a toxic world! And don’t come at me with a statement like, “Jesus was controversial. Jesus was harsh. Jesus turned over tables and ran people out of the table.” C’mon, now. Really? Of course He did. But when your (or my) motivations are the same as Jesus’, we can use His tactics. Otherwise, it’s best that we stand down. This culture of outrage we have embraced doesn’t seem to help – all it does is make folks on the same side of an issue feel good (or empowered) about themselves. I don’t see many converts coming from rage.
• It’s simply easier to hold a grudge. It takes no effort. It feels good for a season. It makes you feel mighty and self-righteous. It feeds into that nature that says, “I’ll show you. I’m gonna hurt you back. And when I hurt you back, that’s gonna make me feel really, really good.”

“I can’t forgive,” you say. “I can’t be kind to him/her/them.”

Here’s my bottom line for the day:

Sometimes, it’s the Christians who have been hurt the most who refuse to be hardened in this world, because they would never want to make another person feel the same way they themselves have felt.

If that’s not something to be in awe of, I don’t know what it is. Love all.

Talk later.

“I am a hot mess.” You ever feel that way?

The ever helpful Merriam -Webster Dictionary defines hot mess as

1 informal : something or someone that is emphatically a mess: such as

a: something in a state of extreme disorder or disarray, and b: a disorganized, disheveled, or self-destructive person

You are not alone, even if you are a hot mess.

So there’s that.

Mental health used to be a nonissue for me. I’ve always been an introvert, but introversion isn’t a mental illness any more than having blue eyes is a birth defect. It’s just a thing.

I can’t remember when depression started becoming an issue. I used to be a worrier, but on Oct. 12, 2016, I gave worrying up. It didn’t seem to help to worry. But that depression thing? Hoo-boy. That’s my hot mess place.

After I had my head injury about three years ago, that depression tended to cover me like a shroud. I struggled to explain it with metaphors; I likened it to being at the bottom of a well, looking up at that small circle of daylight, and feeling as though I’d never emerge into the light.

Cheerful, I know.

This blog is You Can Have Hope. It’s a very self-descriptive title.

I’d also point out that, given the state of our world, it’s hard not to be troubled. The world can make hot messes of us all.

Obviously, that’s Jesus. So how does that even work?

One of my first course offerings is this:

I’d be honored if you’d take a look. You’ll find it HERE.

I am offering this workshop for $37.

I don’t want to make this about me, because it’s NOT. It’s for you, or someone you love.

That link above will give you a lot more information. Again, I think part of God’s call on my life in these days is to simply be an encourager, and this feels like the best way I can do that.

I am a hot mess. I know of so many others that are dealing with their own hot messiness.

You are the one I’d like to reach, encourage, equip, and see set free. This will help.

It’s not all about you. It never has been. Check this out:

“I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance. The poet’s, the writer’s, duty is to write about these things. It is his privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding him of the courage and honor and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice which have been the glory of his past. The poet’s voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail.” – William Faulkner

You just read the closing part of Faulkner’s acceptance speech for the Nobel Prize at the Nobel banquet at City Hall in Stockholm, Sweden, on December 10, 1950. The entire speech lasted about three minutes and, like the Gettysburg Address, has no fat on its bones at all. It was succinct, powerful stuff. I won’t post the whole thing, but it bears reading. Google it.

If you read Faulkner, you’ll find that his writings are packed with Christian themes (although his personal life, with multiple affairs, leads me to think that he lived his life just a little on the wrong side of the King James Version.) But I love the quote above, and here’s why:

It’s not all about you.

We can, if we aren’t careful, turn into self-serving little clods.

We live in this culture of outrage. We are offended by everything. Granted, some things are worth getting worked up over. But pity the one who goes through life looking for something to get enraged about. So they rant, and rail, and lash out at anyone who doesn’t see things the way they do. And, in offense’s worst state, they want those not agreeing with them shut down, silenced, banished.

I want to state unequivocally that wanting someone who disagrees with you to be silenced is cowardly and non-Christian.

What are you afraid of? Have we become such weenies that we are threatened by opposing viewpoints? To put a finer point on things, are we not as Christians so uncertain about our own beliefs that to be confronted with challenges causes us to run to the nearest rabbit hole?

Check out Faulkner again, and he implies that it’s not all about you. He states that we are capable of compassion, sacrifice, and endurance. In the context of believers, that implies that we can care and love for our enemies, that we can give ourselves to them and for them, and that we can stand up to anything hurtful or harmful – or unfair and inaccurate – that they might say to us. Actually, that sounds pretty Christlike to me.

Faulkner’s answer was found in words, in poetry, in soaring discourse. Read this again:

It is his (the writer’s) privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding him of the courage and honor and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice which have been the glory of his past.

That’s good counsel for the poet, and good counsel for us, too. We have that same privilege as we look to others.

But we can’t give away something that we don’t have. We are the end product of those before us who give us examples of courage, honor, hope, pride, compassion, pity, and sacrifice. More importantly, we have received the same examples from Christ Himself.

Here’s the point. Don’t miss the point.

To the extent that you can accept these strengths, divinely given, you can prevail against the ill winds of culture. You have a new Spirit in you, if you’re a believer. It’s a Spirit that will guide you away from blind outrage, away from perceived or real slights, away from any sense of entitlement you may have.

Life is hard. It’s SUPPOSED to be. You are supposed to struggle and contend. Without struggle, where would the glory be? No, see, you are supernaturally empowered to be gifted, to be a gift, to be an encourager, and to always and forever have hope. You don’t have to remain in the dark state you are in. O be joyful. You have reason to hope.

Comments are welcome and encouraged.

Your future needs you. Your past doesn’t.

The great philosopher and theologian, Meat Loaf, sang:

But it was long ago and it was far away

Oh God it seems so very far

And if life is just a highway – then the soul is just a car

And objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are.*

 There is no question we can be haunted by memories. Unless there is some compelling reason otherwise, we can conjure up images from yesterday, both good and bad. Your future needs you. Your past doesn’t.

It has a lot to do with regrets. Things we should have done, things we did, things that still occupy our thoughts. Things we’d like to take back but can’t.

Sometimes those memories crowd in on our waking lives to the extent that they influence our here and now. We say “I’m sorry,” and mean it, but it doesn’t undo the past. Consequently, we look ahead with fear, afraid we’re gonna mess up again. We’re afraid of repeating past mistakes. We don’t want to submit ourselves to guilt and shame.

That guilt/fear/shame mindset is a killer. And while we consciously know we should move on and look toward brighter days, we find ourselves mired in deep taffy.

What’s the solution? Are we to be held hostage to what once was?

Absolutely not. There is always hope.

What Marvin Lee Aday (see? You just learned Meat Loaf’s real name) captured is a haunting sense of loss. But if you pick apart the lyrics just a bit, there is a comforting truth to be found:

“…and objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are.”

That convex mirror on a car is designed to give a wider field of view, to keep other cars from getting lost in that “blind spot.” While an approaching car may seem close, in reality there is more distance that might appear.

I don’t want to torture this analogy, but the past is a lot further behind you than you might imagine. It just seems close. Here’s the fact: Even if something occurred five seconds ago, it’s as much of your past as if it had happened ten years ago. The past is just that: the past. And, as such, it’s now in your rear view mirror. It’s over and done.

I do need to make a little distinction. There are indeed consequences of your past actions. You rob a bank and get caught, your future is going to be different than if you’d not robbed that bank. So, granted, in that sense your past can influence your future.

What I’m talking about is your mind, how your past gets in your headspace and stays there rent-free.

That’s where we struggle. And that is what you need to deal with.

Say this out loud (probably best if no one is around): “I can’t take it back.” Whatever your “it” is, you can’t make it go away. It’s a point and an event in time. Heck, it can even be a thought, that decision you made that changed your way of thinking, perhaps not for the best.

Here’s what might make all the difference in your future:

• Whatever happened, whatever was said, glean what lessons you can from it. Don’t waste it.
• Consider this – you are able to empathize with others going through the same ordeal in a way you could not have had you not faced it yourself. Is there a way you can positively use your regret and channel it into something redemptive?
• You absolutely have the power to choose your responses to, well, everything. You better listen to Uncle Tony – there’s a mindset in the world today that you’d better shuck. You aren’t entitled to anything. Having things go your way is not a birthright. You are going to make stupid choices, and you are going to fail miserably. You are going to fail. Here’s a secret for the ages: you can totally determine what to do next. You aren’t a random clump of cellular matter, preprogrammed to act and respond in an unchangeable way. You aren’t trapped. You have a free mind.
• That free mind thing? There are some staggering implications for you. The most significant one is that from right now, right this moment, right this nanosecond, you can make choices that will impact your future for the better. You aren’t trapped. If you feel imprisoned by the past, it’s a prison of your own making.
• The scope of this particular blog entry doesn’t allow for a discussion of how to exercise wisdom, or of how to go forward in making wise choices. You are going to fail and make bad choices still, but you can certainly cut your losses. Life is hard enough without us bringing undue grief on ourselves by choosing poorly. We’ll take that up later, perhaps.

The reason you’re alive and able to read this is that you have yet to accomplish what you were put here to do. There’s your hope.

Your call is to make a difference in someone else’s life, and you do that by understanding you can make a difference in your own life in spite of what has been. Living in the past doesn’t serve anyone. Living for the future serves all.

Ancient script states, “… one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:13b – 14).

Goals. Prizes. All available to us. Sounds good to me.

*Objects In The Rear View Mirror May Appear Closer Than They Are lyrics © CARLIN AMERICA INC

I don’t know if you’ve ever given any thought to our hard hearts, but I’m sensing that, as a whole, we’re a lot less compassionate than we used to be.

Mean, even.

God seems to treat people very differently.

That’s problematic, isn’t it? If God is fair and just, shouldn’t we all find favor? Do our hard hearts come from God or from within ourselves?

I’m a novice at theology, and I’m really hesitant about saying things that aren’t sound. But I’ll take a swipe at this anyway, because I think it’ll help you.

First, some background.

This past weekend we kept our grandkids, Katherine and Levi. Katherine’s four. Levi’s two. We love them so so much, but they can make you tired.

Katherine was looking at the account of Moses and the Ten Commandments in a little illustrated Bible. She was intrigued. So, in the interest of broadening her horizons, I decided to show her a movie version of the story. We ended up watching parts of three of them.

We started out with the 1956 Cecil B. DeMille version of The Ten Commandments starring Charlton Heston. Big, loud, splashy, and reverential. And some killer dialogue; at one point, Nefertiti says to Moses, “Oh Moses, Moses, you stubborn, splendid, adorable fool!” You just can’t get any better than that.

Then we watched the appropriate section of The Bible, the miniseries from 2013 produced by Roma Downey and Mark Burnett. It was certainly more gritty, and the parting of the Red Sea looked terrific.

We wrapped up our session with The Prince of Egypt, the animated version from 1998. To me, it’s the best of the bunch. It’s some potent stuff.

Katherine had tons of questions, but she fixated on Pharaoh. (She’s always partial to villains in movies – she has this thing about Darth Vader, for instance.)

So I tried to explain the whole Israelites being slaves, Moses being sent to deliver them, and Pharaoh saying, uh-uh, nope.

This was an interesting conversation with a four-year-old.

I don’t know if she picked up on the nuances of the story, but she did understand who the good guys and bad guys were. And she was all about the parting of the Red Sea.

What we didn’t get into was the whole business of Pharaoh being so bad.

That’s not a bad question – why does God harden some people’s hearts? More specifically, is He responsible for our hard hearts?

Ancient script says this, in Exodus 11:3:

The Lord made the Egyptians favorably disposed toward the people, and Moses himself was highly regarded in Egypt by Pharaoh’s officials and by the people. (Emphasis mine.)

On the other hand, here’s this, found in Exodus 10:27 and 11:10:

²⁷ But the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and he was not willing to let them go.

¹⁰ Moses and Aaron performed all these wonders before Pharaoh, but the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and he would not let the Israelites go out of his country.

So. There’s that. But what does that have to do with our hard hearts?

There’s no question that this is a mystery.

Why the difference? I’d say, on one hand, only God knows. I have to be at peace with that. Paul says, in Romans 9:18, God has mercy on whom He wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom He wants to harden. 

Yowza.

But back to Exodus: from our limited human view, there are all sorts of reasons in the differences between the Egyptians and Pharaoh. Pharaoh enslaved the Israelites because they were free labor and he could do with them as he pleased. The Egyptians were likely to be more sympathetic. So there are some human factors at work.

That’s not a totally satisfactory view, though.

Making it personal, and in attempting to understand our hard hearts, check this out.

We really don’t know where our deepest feelings come from, do we? Think about it: we are all full of motivations, desires, prejudices, and preferences. Are those due to genetics? Biochemistry? Environment? There isn’t much we can do about those. Or – big one! – are they consciously chosen? Do we decide to engineer our own hard hearts? Is that out of our hands?

My contention is that sin affects everything about us – who we are as well as what we know and do. It can explain our hard hearts.

That could explain a lot about us – why we get so agitated by some people, why we are unwilling to tolerate differing viewpoints, and how we view our world.

Where it gets even messier is when we realize that God controls the universe. No argument there, right? That’s what the Bible teaches. The Bible also teaches that people can obey or disobey God’s commands.

The question hanging out there is this: How does God’s control relate to how you make choices?

If you are free to choose your own attitude and biases – in other words, to accept or reject your hard heart – then it seems to reduce God’s absolute power to something you can override. But – and it’s a big but – if God causes you to have a hard heart against Him and other things and people, then it makes God come across as unfair.

What I grapple with personally as well as corporately is how it seems sometimes that God brings about events and attitudes that clearly oppose His nature.

Rock and roll.

See the implications? This gets to the core of why there are pandemics, why certain elected officials come to power, and how we respond to others and the world and those around us.

As I write this, I’m trying to land this plane safely.

Wheels down:

The connection between God’s sovereignty and human freedom is a big, big mystery from where I sit. People a lot smarter than me (and probably you) have grappled with this for literally thousands of years. It’s still a mystery, and I’m not gonna solve this here at my MacBook on a Tuesday morning.

What I am certain of, though, is that God, by definition, is completely good in His actions. If we think about our hard hearts, and how they came about, we have to acknowledge that we have a big responsibility.

We are responsible to trust Him in all His work and ways. We are never called to solve or even figure out the difficulties that only God understands.

Be at peace with that. And be well. Comments are, as always, welcome.

The silence of God. Maybe you know what I’m talking about.

If you’re a believer, you’ve been taught that God cares for you. You’ve experienced that care, perhaps.

There have been times when I’ve rested in the arms of Jesus. Storms wail, waves crash, darkness looms, and yet I feel perfectly safe. He’s got me, in other words.

Other times, it’s as though I’ve hung on for dear life. It’s like walking to the edge of the abyss, peeking over, and knowing that one misstep is certain death.

I was taught that I would never walk alone. What about those times when you don’t sense His presence at all? And before you climb up on your spiritual high horse and try to convince me that you’ve always known He’s there, I will tell you that part of your spiritual growth process is to experience the silence of God.

This is nothing new.

If you want to take this thought to its extreme manifestation, consider Jesus’ words from the cross:

“My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?”

Jesus experienced silence. His Father God was nowhere to be found.

How are we to respond to God’s silence? Is the indifference of God even a thing?

It is not. But that’s not to say that we should interpret God’s silence as His indifference.

In the bleakest of moments, you might have said to yourself, “No one cares.” The companion thought is, “No one understands.”

These are actual possibilities, I’m sorry to say. It’s unlikely, but there are people who genuinely don’t have anyone that cares about them. And to say “no one understands” is to some degree true of all of us. No one is going to completely “get” you because they aren’t you. If you don’t always understand your thoughts and actions, it’s not likely anyone else is, either.

My Sunday School diploma gives me the authority to say this: God cares. God understands.

Don’t blow that off as simplistic or just a t-shirt slogan. I don’t think the issue is believing those statements – the problem comes in making them a reality in your life.

What can you do, then? When God is silent, are there steps you can take to assure yourself that He is indeed there and is continually present?

Try these:

1. Understand that the silence of God is not the indifference of God. God, by His nature, cannot be indifferent. He is intimately involved in every aspect of your life.
2. If you’re wondering if God cares, let me direct you toward the Cross. That’s proof aplenty.
3. God routinely takes us to places of desperation. I’d be presumptuous to try to explain why. I think it has everything to do with our personal growth and maturity in Christ. He leaves us to our own desires, and we wander far afield. Like the prodigal in the far country, He engineers circumstances to take us to a place of hopelessness. If we’re reasonably intelligent, self-inflicted hopelessness should point us to repentance. Repentance leads to restoration.
4. Part of God’s strategy with us is when He seals up the heavens and you not only don’t “hear” from Him through scripture or prayer, you can’t even tell if He’s around.
5. This is much, much different from the human “silent treatment.” That passive-aggressive tactic is deployed to make someone feel guilty or unworthy. That’s not how God rolls. Quite the opposite.
6. God’s silence is intended to move us to a place of longing. We experience a leanness in our souls. We move into a place on dependence on Him. You don’t take Him for granted anymore.
7. When the time is right – and He determines the time – He’ll break through. It’s incumbent on us to put ourselves in a place where we can hear and discern clearly.
8. Just because you can’t feel His presence is no evidence that He isn’t there. Feelings are great betrayers. Don’t base your relationship with God on how you feel.

Can you trust Him no matter what?

It’s easy to trust God when the bush is burning and you hear His voice. You can easily trust Him when the waters part before you and you can cross safely on dry land. It’s those times of silence that are disturbing.

Guess what? You are not exempt from God’s silence.

If silence serves His purposes and causes you to yearn for Him, you can count on Him to be very, very quiet.

It’s easy for me to say “hang on.” It’s much tougher to have to be the one who’s hanging. I believe your best strategy is to acknowledge that we all experience those times of silence, from the weakest believer to to the strongest saint. God trusts you enough to let you experience His silence. There is no such thing as the indifference of God. When He refuses to speak, take comfort in knowing He’s up to something big. He is going to grow you in a totally unexpected fashion.

Go with that. He’ll never leave you or forsake you.