“What would you do if you wuz the devil?” Aunt Ruth asked.
“I’d retire and sue the movie industry for back pay,” I said.
Aunt Ruth was neither my aunt, nor was she named “Ruth.” Through a series of circumstances I don’t have space to tell, that’s what I wound up calling her. Crusty, funny, frank, and yes – godly – Aunt Ruth had eyes that danced long after her feet no longer could. Today her eyes were dancing.
“I’m serious,” she said. “What would you do?”
“Oh, the usual, I guess. Lust, greed, bitterness. Why are you asking?” (We’d been talking about how blessed we were as a church, and how excited I was about the future.)
“Come on, boy, he’s got more sense than that! Too bad you don’t.” [click to continue…]
News flash! As a culture, we don’t wait well.
That’s why, in the previous post, I mentioned that it’s easy to get into trouble when we’re in those waiting seasons. (In theory, of course… not that I have ever actually gotten so impatient that somebody in a uniform decided it was time to have a little chat… but I’m sure you know somebody like that.)
One of the problems we have with waiting is that we don’t know how. We think of waiting as the kind of thing you do in a bureaucrat’s line or a doctor’s office (now you know why they call them “patients”).
In the Bible, James offers a different idea. And when I read this during a particularly hard waiting season, it really got my attention:
“The farmer waits for the precious produce of the soil, being patient about it, until it gets the early and late rains. You too be patient; strengthen your hearts…” (James 5:7-8).
I happen to live in the middle of the largest contiguous cotton-growing region in the world. My neighbors know a thing or two about waiting on a harvest. Their livelihood depends on it. And believe me, you won’t find a busier bunch. [click to continue…]
“I swear, I keep thinking, if somehow I press through, I can get where I want to go. If, of course, it doesn’t kill me or I don’t kill myself in the process.” (from my journal, July 18, 2005)
+++++++
“This is warfare,” Robin said.
“It’s God!” I snapped back, dispirited and resigned. “Let’s just go home.”
Well, there you have it. Now you know what we fight about at my house.
It was the day from hell. It started with a hard funeral – a suicide victim – at which I was to speak. My message to the grieving family and friends was to “be still – cease striving – and know that he is God.” It was on a Monday, following a very harried and stressful Sunday, in the middle of a very harried and stressful summer.
But this was the Monday when the scenery was supposed to change. With the help of my office staff, we had scheduled a trip to the mountains to write.
As in, the LifeVesting book.
Here’s a little proverbial advice, for what it’s worth: Beware of trying to change your scenery on Monday. [click to continue…]
(The Twelve Ways of Christmas, Part 7: The Way of Warfare)
December 23
The first thing Ryan Fisher felt when he awakened was an obnoxious cold wind, pelting his face with sleet. The searing pain coursing down his legs and across his chest further aroused him. Opening his eyes, he saw movement outside, but the angle of his SUV in the ditch made it difficult to tell what was happening. One thing was sure – the distant siren and flashing lights were for him.
Another thing became certain pretty quickly. Assuming he lived, Ryan Fisher would spend Christmas alone. There’d be no plane to catch, and nobody boarding a plane back to Birmingham. Not in this storm.
It was the end of the day from hell, punctuating the week from hell, capping off the year from hell. And now, freezing and in shock, Ryan Fisher closed a mental door. He was done. [click to continue…]
The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor;
he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; (Isaiah 61:1, ESV)
There’s something you should know, though I’m not very proud to say it.
I’m an ex-con.
Ex-convict? No.
Ex-condemned? You betcha.
Ex-consequences? Uh huh.
Ex-con man? ‘Fraid so.
I lived on the wrong side of a legal system for a long time, and wound up in prison. But don’t go looking for my name in some Federal or state criminal records. I haven’t messed with Texas that much. [click to continue…]
During the American Civil War, General William T. Sherman was driving his troops through Georgia on his decisive march to the sea. He had left a small contingent of men behind in a fort on Kennesaw Mountain to guard the rations. General John Bell Hood of Texas attacked the fort, and a fierce battle followed. One-third of the men were killed or wounded, and J. M. Corse, the general in command, was severely injured in the fighting.
Just as he was about to hoist up the white flag and surrender, a message came through the signal corps set up on a chain of mountains. General Sherman was within 15 miles of the fort and had sent the message: “Hold fast. We are coming.” Those few words so encouraged the defenders that they held on and kept the fort from falling into the hands of their attackers.
You and I are a little like that contingent of Union soldiers. We’re part of a victorious army that has been left for a season to be stewards of the resources of our Commander-in-Chief.
And we’re under attack. [click to continue…]
I’ve been noticing something in me that I don’t like. It’s been around ever since somebody first said “no” to me and I ignored her or him. But lately it’s been strutting around with a vengeance, so I thought I’d expose the big puke for the world to see. So take that, flesh.
I first noticed it in particular when I started reading Watchman Nee’s classic, The Spiritual Man. While I read some really good stuff, I find my mind racing with a torrent of thoughts. Crazy thoughts. Rebellious thoughts. Ugly, fleshly thoughts.
I find it raging sometimes in church when I’m supposed to be the spiritual leader pointing toward Christ and instead I feel this compelling urge to point to me.
I notice it, strangely enough, when I’m with the people I love the most and I’m feeling a flood of emotions that are anything but loving. [click to continue…]
Sorry to be the latest to assault your traditional Nativity scene. But this isn’t just an exercise in historical trivia. Something happened near Bethlehem that, in my 50 years, has gone unnoticed or ignored.
Have you ever had times when, for a split second, it seems that God has “parted the curtain” between the seen and unseen world, and given you a glimpse of the Larger Story? You can find one of those in Luke’s account of the birth of Jesus.
Setting the Scene
Joseph and Mary, both descendants of King David, had returned to their ancestral home town for census and taxing purposes. This shuffling of the population of Israel was a massive undertaking, and caused some serious housing shortages for months. But somebody in Bethlehem (possibly a distant cousin, who knows?) offered them shelter in the place where they kept their animals. This was probably a cave. We don’t know how long they were there before Jesus was born, but it was probably a little time. It doesn’t seem as though ol’ Joe was banging on doors at midnight, hollering, “My wife’s in labor!”
On the day (yes, day) Jesus was born, Mary and Joseph were still in the cave. The animals’ feeding trough became the infant’s first bed.
Then the sun went down, and the drama began. [click to continue…]
Job sites can be noisy places. The clanging of tools, the heaving groans of loud masculine voices, and the hacking or high-pitched grinding of cutting instruments all suggest that something is being built with earnest.
There is another kind of construction, however, that makes precious little noise. But the effects are powerful and completely necessary. In the Day of the Second House, none of us can move forward without it. I’m talking about the inner construction – the molding and shaping of character and spiritual power.
It does no good to rebuild the outward structures without taking a tough look at the inner priorities and attitudes of the heart. That’s what’s so ridiculous about somebody facing a crisis (remember the Sunday after September 11, 2001?) by scurrying off to a church building they haven’t darkened in months. The building or setting is meaningless unless it’s occupied by a transformed heart.
So while our friend Zerubbabel was busy governing and building a temple, his partner, Joshua, was facing some building of his own. But this high priest was facing down his own broken walls, burned gates, and impossible mission. Joshua was engaged in a battle for his heart, and for the soul of his nation. Here’s how the prophet Zechariah described this internal battle:
Then he showed me Joshua the high priest standing before the angel of the Lord, and Satan standing at his right hand to accuse him. The Lord said to Satan, “ The Lord rebuke you, Satan! Indeed, the Lord who has chosen Jerusalem rebuke you! Is this not a brand plucked from the fire?” Now Joshua was clothed with filthy garments and standing before the angel. He spoke and said to those who were standing before him, saying, ” Remove the filthy garments from him.” Again he said to him, “See, I have taken your iniquity away from you and will clothe you with festal robes.” Then I said, “Let them put a clean turban on his head.” So they put a clean turban on his head and clothed him with garments, while the angel of the Lord was standing by. (Zechariah 3:1-5)
Every man or woman who is serious about spiritual life and victory faces similar battles. Our destinies, as well as the destinies of others, hang in the balance. Here are five inner battle zones: [click to continue…]
“What would you do if you wuz the devil?” Aunt Ruth asked. 
Born on the first Easter and commissioned forty days later, the history and destiny of the world has been forever changed and shaped by an army sent forth by the Lord Jesus Himself. You are now part of that army.