From the category archives:

Tense Truths

It usually starts in the fingers and toes.  Then blitzes the middle of the back, radiating out from there.

It’s cold.  Oh baby, it’s cold.  And those extremities start to go into rebellion.  They just…don’t… want… to… moooove.

Do you know what I’m talking about?  Throw on the socks, wrap up in the blankie, and you’re still shivering.  Body parts you usually ignore are sending you a signal – Do something now! Your ears – normally quite the lady or gentleman – are getting a bit irritate with all this.  Your already-cold nose starts running – for cover.

Oh baby, it’s cold.

For relief, you look outside for some sunny encouragement.  What you find are swelled up birds, vapor-blowing animals, and icicles on your icicles.  The ground is so frozen that even with the howling wind (was that a chill that just ran up your back?), nothing moves. [click to continue…]

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Rush and Hush

by Andy Wood on December 20, 2011

in Tense Truths

‘Tis the season to rush and hush.  Hurry up and wait.  Get rowdy, then reflective.

Yep, it’s Christmas.  Number 54 for me; you do your own math.  And without fail, the previous 53 brought the same curious mixture of busy-ness and stillness.  No reason to expect anything different this year.  Not sure I’d want to if I could.

No doubt about it, we’re in a hurry.  Rush to the shopping center.  Rush to the party (ahem, “fellowship”).  Rush to the gift wrap. Rush to the country to see Grandma.  Rush to do the normal stuff like school and work and church so we can rush to some other activity.  We’re in such a hurry for Christmas, my Thanksgiving turkey got run over by a reindeer!

All the while we keep on fussing about being so busy and hurried.  But I’ve decided the hustle is as traditional as visions of sugarplums and lights on the trees. [click to continue…]

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He was careless in the conflict, and a bit presumptuous in the battle.  Unaware of the schemes or the true power of his enemies – unaware at times of who his enemies actually were – he went down, wounded in the battle.

This is not your typical military operation.  This is a spiritual battlefield, known for its invisible armies and stealth weapons.  Known also for its enormous array of spectators – some cheering you on from heaven, others just watching a battle they themselves should be engaged in.

Lying there, ashamed, in pain, and afraid, it’s easy for discouragement and fear to have the final word.  But deep in his spirit another wounded soldier’s testimony from long ago begins to stir his broken courage and will: [click to continue…]

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Jason meant well.  But his efforts to help the butterfly-to-be only ended in disaster.  For days he had watched the cocoon and wondered what it would produce.  Finally he noticed a tiny opening in the cocoon’s wall.  On the other side, the new life form was struggling furiously – desperately – to be free of its self-designed prison.  Feeling compassion for the little creature, the boy found a sharp knife and carefully cut the cocoon’s wall in order to relieve it from its struggle.

The butterfly soon died.  Its wings were grossly deformed, and it was unable to fly.  What appeared to be a struggle was actually the process by which the animal’s wings are formed.  Jason had short-circuited the process, and the results, though unintentional, were tragic.

You and I are very much like the butterfly.  We are often wrapped up in our own kinds of cocoons – alone, stifled, limited, longing to be free.  Sometimes these are prisons of our own doing – addictions, bondage to sin, broken relationships, stupid decisions.   At other times our cocoons are thrust upon us in the form of disappointments, losses of loved ones, extended illnesses, or the abuse of others.  Either way, the results are the same.  Why do we feel so alone?  What in the world is God up to?  Where will we ever find relief?  When will we be “free to fly” again?  How will we make it through another day? [click to continue…]

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I.

It all started with a dream last week,

About a friend I hadn’t seen in more than a decade,

And hadn’t talked to in six years.

Even though it had been so long

And so much life had passed us by,

I realized how important he still is to me.

My love for him and his family is as strong as ever.

And that dream made me take a look at the tapestry of my relationships

And realize somebody was missing.

[click to continue…]

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(The further adventures of Eugene Davis, Sophomore Christian)

“What would be s good time to come by your office?”

The voice on the other end of the phone was none other than Eugene Davis, Sophomore Christian and resident expert on all things spiritually enormous.

Normally Eugene would pop in, sort of like the Allies dropped by to pay the Germans a visit at Normandy.  But this was different.  It had the air of urgency.  Eugene Davis was always serious and everything was important.  But this was a step beyond.  It was deliberate.  Ruggedly precise.  Appointment-worthy.

“I’m free about 3:00,” I said.  ”What’s up?”  (To this day I don’t like ambushes in meetings.)

“I think the Lord has given me a vision.”

“Well,” said I, ”I’ll be here.  Come on by.”

Apparently I didn’t send the right signal.  Didn’t catch the gravy of the situation.  This was a vision.  From God! [click to continue…]

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Just in case you somehow thought that God was irrelevant and grace is for people who never really needed it…

Twelve times He said it.  Twelve times he peeled back the veil and revealed very early something of His heart, passion, and grace.

And twelve times, I daresay, we have missed it.

In a gesture that can only be described as Covenant Love, the Creator of the Universe – the Holy Lord of Heaven – entered into a covenant relationship with three men we refer to today as Patriarchs.  And in a stunning act of clarity and focus, the Lord changed their names – and His.

He gave them His name (Abram inserted the Hebrew name for God and became Abraham).

But He also took theirs.  Thereafter He would refer to Himself as the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

We all know what that means, right?  He’s the God of three old guys whose pictures we put up on flannel boards in Sunday School.  Three cardboard cutouts who never had to change their oil, replace a hard drive, or tweet their followers.

And yet, Jesus used this phrase – The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob – to make the point that He is the Lord of the living, not the dead.

I’m thinking we may have missed something. [click to continue…]

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It’s the creator’s fantasy…

…to use the tools of the trade – words or paint or dance or music – to design the ultimate masterpiece.

…to turn passion into such artistic cleverness and inspiration into such adoration that mountains move, easels grow dark, and all other voices remain silent, at least for a while.

…to write the song to end all songwriting, or the story that all other stories are compared to, or the verse that contains the finest content of the heart.

Never gonna happen.

The heart is too large to be reduced to words or rhymes or phrases or meter.

The soul is too powerfully changing to be framed by one snapshot of expression.

The imagination is too delighted in the dance of dreaming to stop with one image.

The inspiration is too elusive and awe-inspiring to ever satisfy the poet that his work is done.

The Creator whose image we bear is too interesting to be limited to our vision-of-the-moment.

So we have the choice… [click to continue…]

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The path of the Christian is not always bright with sunshine; he has his seasons of darkness and of storm. . . The day of evil reveals to us the value of our glorious hope. (C. H. Spurgeon)

In East Tennessee a mother suffers a broken leg and a devastated heart as a tornado claims the life of her baby.

In West Alabama a couple hears a noise and opens the front door of their home.  Seconds later, there is no more home, and no more couple.

123 tornadoes, so I hear,  in one day.  The death toll at this point:  319.

Meanwhile, on the same day, in East Texas a spiritual champion and one of the most respected leaders of his generation collides with destiny in the form of a tractor trailer.

And as the world reels and the grieving begins in earnest, a rude reminder comes collecting – the winds blow and the rains fall on the just and the unjust, and none of us has any guarantee of tomorrow.

Does that anger you?  Me, too.

Does it seem unfair?  I get that.  Why do tornados never seem to level prisons?

We can huff on our high horse all we want, but guess what?  Neither you nor I will change the fact that life is unfairly short and at times unbearably hard.

Is that God’s fault?  I’m sure we’ll get our dose of that from the usual sources.  How come nobody ever “blames” God when money’s in the bank, gas is cheap and the ocean is calm? [click to continue…]

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A man was brought into court for trial and found guilty.  The judge happened to be a close boyhood friend of the accused, although they had not seen each other for many years.  Remaining impartial, the judge sentenced the defendant and levied a penalty – a fine – appropriate to his crime.  The fine was so large that the accused could not pay it, so a jail sentence seemed to be the only alternative.

The judge then did a very unusual thing.  Leaving the bench, he approached the convicted man, shook his hand, and announced, “I’m paying the fine for you.”  There in the courtroom the law was satisfied, and so was love.

Beautiful justice.  Scandalous love.

What a picture of the cross.

At the wonderful, tragic, mysterious tree

On that beautiful, scandalous night you and me

Were atoned by His blood and forever washed white

On that beautiful, scandalous night.

The ultimate intersection:  two beams connected, the vertical and the horizontal.  One pointed to God, one reached out to man.  And there, suspended between heaven and earth, the Prince of Glory was judged in love.

The ultimate paradox:  how could something so ugly be so beautiful?

The ultimate collision:  sin met grace.

The ultimate demonstration:  the love of God and the sin of man.

The ultimate betrayal:  thirty stinking pieces of silver for the life of the Son of God.

The ultimate rejection:  unconditional love, hammered through with nails.

The ultimate ransom:  innocent blood for guilty humanity.

Beautiful justice.  Scandalous love. [click to continue…]

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