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Way past the appearances and impressions we try to leave,
Behind the masks and attempts to please the critical and excite the vain -
Beyond the insiders’ lingo and bless-to-impress,
There rests a true heart.
Your heart. My heart.
Authentic, insofar as we can know it without being deceived by it.
Wiser, it seems, than we often give it credit for being.
More terrified at times than we would ever let on.
More prayerful than we often realize…
More ruthlessly demanding that we care to admit in polite company.
Gloriously free from what we used to be – yet humbly aware of how far we have to go. [click to continue…]
It was a year ago today.
In one sense, as my Dad said yesterday, it has flown by. In another, it felt like a thousand years.
But if one thing has emerged from the past 365 days, it’s that when people or Bible writers talk about the “God of All Comfort,” I can say “Amen” and turn the pages with credibility.
But it didn’t start – or end – with the events surrounding my mother’s sudden death. In fact, the biggest lesson of all was that healing of the heart is a journey through time.
Translation: Don’t tell me how much comfort or encouragement you’re feeling in the funeral home. You have no clue yet about comfort. You’re still being buoyed and insulated by kind people and the truths of your faith.
Comfort – the real kind – comes later.
In the last year, I have been blessed to live what I have preached for years – that the words we use about a Heavenly Father who is who is able to empathize with our weaknesses and invites us to boldly approach a throne of grace are all true. And believe me, other than the promise of eternal life, I can’t think of a promise that is more vital.
How does He do it? If you’re the one just leaving the cemetery or the courthouse or the hospital, what can you expect? How does the Lord put the pieces back together? While every experience of loss – whether it is through death, rejection, forced job termination, or the death of a dream – is unique, I think I have found some common elements in the way our Heavenly Father brings about His healing. [click to continue…]
It was one of those eye-opening days, I guess. Back to school time for me. I was living north of Dallas, and still involved in youth ministry. I taught a Monday night Bible Study that served as the centerpiece of the ministry, and on this particular night I passed out blank paper with a special request: List, in order, the five things it would take to make you perfectly happy.
How would you answer that?
I really thought I knew what the answers would be – a lot of selfish stuff like cars, a driver’s license, money, or popularity. But what I heard taught me a lesson I’ll never forget. Here are some of their actual answers: [click to continue…]
Jon Acuff recently shared the story of a coworker named Brian who had witnessed the death of a man in the gym a day before. Apparently he had a heart attack, and nobody could help, except to vainly call 911. Now a day later, the coworker was filled with regret and what-if scenarios.
Twenty years ago, James’ life took a detour through some moral quicksand. And though he can tell you in glowing terms today about the grace of God that lifted him out of the “miry clay” and “set his feet upon a rock,” sometimes the past comes blowing back in his face like a cold rain. Even though he lives today as a forgiven man, at times he still finds himself on the Highway of Regret.
I can certainly relate to both of those scenarios – helpless situations and careless choices. But the regrets that nag me the most have to do with unfinished business. [click to continue…]
An important part of creating a compelling future has to do with remembering. That’s why lately I’ve been visiting some museums on a fairly regular basis.
I’m not referring to anything with the words, “Smithsonian,” “Historical,” or “National” in it. The museums I’m talking about are in my head, some really old computer files, and my journals.
Lately I’ve been visiting the Dream Museum. I suggest you do the same.
The idea for this little excursion was planted in my heart last August at a men’s retreat, where my friend Mickey asked a compelling question:
What dreams have you had either stolen or detained, to the point you have given up on them? Maybe the Lord is telling you to pick that dream back up again.
That really registered with me. “Electrified” may be a better term.
(Pause. Are you entering your dream museum yet? Visiting what’s in mine may help me, but it won’t do much for you. So let me ask you what Mickey asked all of us: What dreams have YOU had that were either stolen or detained, to the point you have given up on them?)
I didn’t have an immediate answer to the question, other than some unfulfilled physical dreams that I believe were prophetic. But I couldn’t get over the gut feeling that some long-ago dream had been shelved to the point that I had forgotten about it, but the Lord hadn’t. [click to continue…]
The Twelve Ways of Christmas, Part 3: The Way of Hardship
“This won’t be easy, Erin.”
“I know. It quit being easy three weeks ago,” Erin replied.
“You know I can’t guarantee we will have a scholarship still available if you change your mind.”
“Give it to somebody who can use it. I think it’s gonna be a while,” said Erin in a voice both hollowed by grief and steeled by determination.
Those words still hung in Erin’s heart as the elevator doors closed to mirror her 32-weeks-pregnant frame – and to part company with the destiny she once had been sure lay before her.
For Erin Lucas, life had taken a vicious turn. Always an honors student, a Pre-med Junior majoring in Biochemistry at LSU, Erin had taken up what looked like permanent residence on the President’s List. And she had overcome considerable obstacles to do it.
Raised (if you would call it that) in a dysfunctional home, Erin had last seen her father at age 16. Her mother had done the best she could to provide for Erin and her sister, often working two jobs to make ends meet – not an easy task for a middle-aged woman in south Mississippi with just a high-school education. But it was worth the sacrifice and grief to see to it that Erin and Emily would get a college degree in a high-paying field.
Did I mention that Mama was a bit of a controller?
You can imagine the, “concern” Erin encountered when she brought Donnie Lucas home from Baton Rouge over Christmas break during Erin’s freshman year. [click to continue…]
Vision hurts.
Don’t believe me? Try dreaming about something that is exciting and important to you, only to be disappointed. But the alternative to vision isn’t much better. Instead of dreaming, you could play it safe. Be complacent. Wish for nothing and hit it every time.
Doesn’t sound like much of a choice, does it? Heartache or boredom. Tightrope with no net or treadmill with no hope. How do you make peace with your dreams? How do you keep from hating the whole process? How can you avoid “optiphobia” – the fear of vision?
Start with a little perspective. [click to continue…]
From our Fifth Anniversary Celebration
Walk inside my office and look to the left, just under the big window. There you will find one of my most cherished possessions. It’s an original framed caricature of a lion inside a cardboard box. It was given to me for Christmas 2003 by two dear friends. And it’s the kind of thing that when you see it, you know there’s a story behind it. And if you’re in my office for the first time, as a couple was yesterday, it’s only natural that you would ask about it.
So I thought I’d tell you the story behind it. This is the story of the Lion Dream. [click to continue…]
There are two places from which to dream – a place of frustration, or a place of contentment. Each has its own perspective and advantages.
Dreaming from a place of frustration is necessary, because without it, nothing would ever change. Dreaming from a place of contentment is necessary, because without it, nothing would ever remain rooted where it should be.
Dreaming from a place of frustration arms us with hope. Dreaming from a place of contentment coils us in faith.
Dreaming from a place of frustration helps define our boundaries. Dreaming from a place of contentment helps raise our standards.
Dreaming from a place of frustration makes us desperate enough to act. Dreaming from a place of contentment makes us patient enough to wait.
Dreaming from a place of frustration leverages anger into something positive. Dreaming from a place of contentment leverages gratitude into something active.
Each complements the other, and both are necessary.
If you only dream out of frustration, then almost any change will do. Dreams then lead to impulsiveness.
If you dream only out of contentment, then almost any change is suspect. Dreams then lead to complacency.
Stand in different places when you dream. Your health and balance demand it. But dream nonetheless, no matter where you stand. Don’t let your circumstances frame your dreams. Insist that your dreams frame your circumstances.
It’s time to dream again.
And in doing so, I will not content myself with yesterday’s progress.
I have seen my share of victories; I’ve won some battles, and maybe even a war or two.
But there are new victories to be won, and yesterday’s dreams will never achieve them.
When my greatest challenges are boredom and fatigue, I will rest in the womb of a new vision, and call forth even greater measures of faith and courage.
It’s time to dream again.
And in doing so, I will see beyond the road blocks and crashes. [click to continue…]
Way past the appearances and impressions we try to leave,
