BROKEN

There I stood in the middle of the parking lot with the hood raised on my old blue Chevy while trying to look busy repairing something that I didn’t know how to fix. That pretty much sums up my week. You see the “funk” had crept in and brought everything to a screeching halt much like the engine I was staring at. I was broken. Frozen.

My son jokingly asked me, recently, if I was going through a mid-life crisis. My response was “If I was ever going to have one, it would be now.” I have the privilege of watching and helping my kids as they learn, practice and grow into who they want to become. The progressions are obvious and doors are starting to fly open for them to display their gifts. While I’m overwhelmed with pride, something lurks in the shadows. Me. The “me” that has never reached the level of success that I’ve always wanted to attain. I don’t see doors flying open for me. There were many mistakes and plenty of missed opportunities along the way but I never thought that I was that bad. I thought that someone would’ve recognized the talent and taken the time to promote me to stardom.

Right about now, you’re saying “You are so self centered!” and you’re right. Please, understand that I love my family and will support them in whatever they chose to do providing it’s not detrimental to them or anyone else. I understand well the role of responsibility in providing and nurturing. I was told once that a man without a dream is dead. I’m not dead. My dream is alive and well. So…. why?

Suddenly, it began to be clear. As I questioned “Why?”, I found myself singing, while the tears rolled down my face, a song I had sung almost a hundred times before:

Why? The question that is never far away.

But healing doesn’t come from the explained.

Jesus, please don’t let this go in vain.

You’re all I have, all that remains.

So here I am, what’s left of me

Where glory meets my suffering.

I’m alive even though a part of me has died.

You take this heart and breath it back to life.

I fall into your arms open wide.

When the hurt and the healer collide.

As I mentioned before, I was already broken. However, according to the Greek definition of the word, there’s two distinct degrees of contrition. I didn’t think I had anything else to offer, nothing left to sacrifice. I was wrong. See, what I had missed was, in the middle of my mess, God was waiting for me to take the pieces of my messed up life, my failed attempts, my desires and lay it at His feet as a sacrifice. He was waiting for that voluntary gesture so that He in turn could breathe life into these bones so I can truly live. If your worship doesn’t involve sacrifice, then you haven’t truly worshipped. It’s not easy. It hurts. It’s scary. (Mark 10:32) It involves removing self from the equation. If we are in the least bit self centered, then we’re not at all Christ centered.

God hasn’t taken away my ability to sing or play an instrument so I’m hoping He still wants me to use them. I’m gonna keep singing and recording as much as possible but with the understanding that it’s for the praise of God and not of men. (John 12:43) I’ve brought my requests humbly and boldly before the throne. He’s aware of them. Now it’s time for me to leave it there for Him to do with as He wishes. Keeping in mind the nature of a father, I believe He has nothing but the best planned for me. (Jer 29:11)

DEAD OR NOT DEAD?

I finally took the time to see "God's Not Dead" and heard something that I connected with. The student who is given the task of proving God's existence is faced with some "fall out" in the form of friends and family questioning (or just plain not supporting) his actions to walk by faith. I've been there. I'm still there.

A few years ago, at a time when I first realized God was calling me into something big, a friend gave me a copy of "The Dream Giver" by Bruce Wilkinson. Bruce explains that, when we set out in pursuit of our God given dream, friends and family with the best of intent will question our actions. Maybe, even, try and discourage us. Again, often times, those closest to us may not understand God's calling on our lives.

I responded to the call to ministry a few years ago when I was asked to serve as music minister at a small church on the south side of Newnan. This church offered nothing that attracted me in the way of music. There was no Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir, no contemporary worship music. Reluctantly, I accepted. Almost immediately, the comments and titles started. Friends that I grew up with started calling me "Preacher Kevin". To this day, it hurts. I hear the snickers. I know of the jokes, often, from the ones I've considered to be friends or family. People ask my wife "So, what does Kevin do for work? When is he going to get a "real job?" Trust me, there's not a day that goes by that I don't wonder, even worry about, if I'm doing enough for my family. I know, better than anyone else, the needs of my family. God know far better than I. That is why I have to do, act and say what I believe God is calling me to. "For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing to the glory that will be revealed to us." Rom 8:18 

Today, I heard the song lyrics "Break our hearts for what breaks yours.". God sometimes leads us into the "desert" where we can chose. We can chose to be disobedient and find ourselves stumbling around  in the desert of our consequences for forty years or we can chose to obey and be delivered in four days. Inside of two weeks, our income was reduced by 2/3. I say that to explain my belief that God has allowed that "tragedy" to happen. We were given that opportunity to react bitterly or respond by drawing closer and seeking God's plan. I believe God allowed this to happen so we would better understand the people that we serve who are facing similar situations. He allowed this so I could explain, by my own life experiences, that prosperity (Jer 29:11) isn't defined by monetary gain. Prosperity, in God's kingdom, is defined by our relationship with Him.

There are far more knowledgeable people who can argue scientific explanations and philosophy in an attempt to reason away God. NO ONE can debate the transformation that takes place when we heed scripture that promises "If my people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and I will forgive their sin and heal their land." 2 Chron 7:14 That's the moment we surrender everything we think we know into the hand of a sovereign god. Whether that healing takes place in this life or the next makes no difference. It's for God's glory and it's His plan.

Trust me, God's not dead. The question is, are you?

PERSPECTIVE

My life, these days, seems to be all about perspective. My days swing 180 degrees from one day to the next whether in the places I go or the people I'm around. Either way, I get to go to my home, at the end of the day, with some sort of normalcy.

A couple of weeks ago, I was approached by a man needing food. I quickly gathered some food and before I could leave for my next appointment, he asked for clothes. I explained to him that I was on the way to pick up my kids from school but, if he would give me his sizes, I would have them for him the following day. Sure enough, he returned the following day. This time was more personal. Plenty of conversation, clean clothes, blankets and the opportunity for him to shower. He's been back regularly since then, often times, to cut the grass or pick up trash around the building. Mind you, it's been a challenge. He knows the system. He can be aggressive. There's also an issue of personal hygiene.

Today, with the promise of bad storms in the area, we were trying to make sure that some of our visitors had somewhere to seek refuge from the storm. I and another friend loaded up our friend's belongings and took him to his "home" that we had heard so much about. I thought I was prepared...

Suddenly, I was reminded of a passage from Max Lucado's book "God Came Near" entitled Mary's Prayer. Mary, holding baby Jesus, is telling Him that his tiny hands would feel no satin, hold no pen, wave from no palace balcony. No, His hands were reserved for much more precious works; to touch the open wound of a leper.

We walked down the railroad tracks to a bridge affectionately called "The Bat Cave". Ironically, I've seen more bats flying around the steeple of the church across the street. There were none to be seen at "The Bat Cave". The local residents were sleeping on trash heaps complete with the rotting corpses of rodents. The smell of urine was stifling.

It's easy to try and rationalize and maybe come to the conclusion that "Well, they put themselves in that situation." Some even prefer that way of life. No drama. No responsibility. No accountability.

I looked down at the tracks that I was walking on as we left him there on his trash heap, the same tracks that seem to go on endlessly in either direction with a different destination on either end, and I thought about how completely grotesque I must have looked, sounded or smelled when I first encountered Jesus. I was the leper who, according to customs, had to yell "UNCLEAN!" to warn the other passers by so as not to be infected by my disease. I had become so overcome by this disease that I had become numb. The numbness prevented me from feeling the damage being done when I habitually reopened old wounds where, eventually, infection would set in and, eventually, I would begin to fall apart. But God, filled with infinite love and compassion, touched me.

He touched me! Oh, He touched me!
And, Oh, the joy that floods my soul.
Something happened and now I know.
He touched me and made me whole.

I'm so grateful that God didn't leave me to die as a result of my choices but, by grace, brought me back to life. So, how can I, in good conscience, not extend the same hand of grace to a world that desperately needs it?

Listening, But You Ain't Hearing...

I remember countless nights, in my youth,  laying on the floor in my bedroom with headphones and listening to music. Often times, I would listen to the same song over and over again, not only memorizing words but, memorizing guitar solos, drum fills, harmonies, etc.. Obviously, the lyrics have a story. However, with the headphones on and being able to hear the emotion of the individual and the chemistry between multiple players striving for the same thing took it to another level. I was mind blown by how David Gilmour of Pink Floyd could hang on one note and make you cry or the way Steve “Machine Gun” Smith of Journey could play something on drums that sounded so simple to the untrained ear but, to the musically educated, it was so much more. These are a couple of guys who set the bar high in the music industry. Because of what they did and how they did it, many have “stolen” or borrowed their licks and applied it to what they do. A friend of mine used to valet park for private events in the Nashville area. One night he was working a party for none other than Vince Gill. He wound up shaking the hand of Vince and told him “Man, I’ve stolen every one of your licks!” Vince’s response? “Cool! I stole them from someone else!” It’s always humbling to pay an accolade to someone only to have them redirect the praise to someone else. They say that imitation is the highest form of flattery.

Towards the end of Matthew 4, scripture says that there was a multitude of people who were brought to Jesus to be healed or “entertained”. Jesus withdrew to the mountain top where his disciples came to him as He began the “Sermon On The Mount”. Notice the word “disciple”. “A follower or student of a teacher or leader.” See, these guys weren’t just there to see what Jesus could do for them. They were so impressed by the person of Jesus and convicted by His truth that they were compelled to follow, to imitate.

The converts in the book of Acts were called Christians because they looked, spoke and acted like Christ. Another example is the crippled beggar in Acts 3 that was healed and the people who knew him recognized him as “the guy who USED TO sit… to beg”. His life was changed because of the actions of another who happened to be changed by the actions of another who was changed by the Master. Disciples making disciples. When we encounter the excellence of love (1 Cor 13), we begin to understand that there’s a higher standard and we have to have it. When we don’t get it, we’re incomplete. So, with that in mind, there’s a shift in our lifestyle that causes us to be more intentional about being COMPLETE. Mediocrity is no longer an option. Jesus said that He didn’t come to abolish the law but to fulfill it. (Matt 5:17) It’s ironic that the entire law is fulfilled in one command. “Love thy neighbor as yourself.”(Gal 5:14)

When we draw near to Jesus and we intently hang on every word and the Word becomes music to our ears, the “business” fades away and what’s left is something beautiful. Something pure. It becomes something we won’t trade for less and there is nothing better.

Suddenly, I’m reminded of a couple of wiry haired guys screaming “We’re not worthy!” when invited to hang out with Alice Cooper. In our case, we’re invite into a relationship with the King of Kings and, though we’re not worthy, he promises to make us holy. It’s amazing what you hear when you listen closely.

GOLF

Every once in a while, it's good to attempt something that you're not necessarily experienced at. Well, providing what you're attempting isn't detrimental. Once a year my in laws fly in from the UK and I spend the better part of two weeks attempting to play golf. I dig playing golf.

The goal, in golf, is to swing the golf club (each club for a specific distance) and move the ball further down the fairway until, eventually, the golf ball finds it's home in a hole that is approximately 4 " in diameter. For someone like me, who is not very good, it can be pretty amusing. It can also bring out the worst in you. On a  dime, emotions can swing from one extreme to the other. Still, the goal is to approach the green and win the prize.

While playing today, I found myself quickly leaving the comfort of the lush green grass of the fairway and entering the treacherous lands that surrounded. Sand, water, sticks, rocks, etc.. Then it dawned on me how similar life is to the game of golf.

Let's say, for instance, you begin in the tee box which is where the game begins. You're in the right frame of mind, you've chosen your instrument and the whole world is laid out before you. And so it begins... From the view of the tee box, the path is so beautiful. So serene. You tee off with the hopes of moving forward but suddenly you find yourself in trouble. Maybe blocked by some unforeseen obstacle. Maybe you find yourself buried. Sometimes you play through. Sometimes you have to reset, but not without a penalty. Those blasted penalties! When you figure out how quickly they mess up your score, you often figure out how to avoid those penalties. Don't beat yourself up too bad. Even the most experienced players find themselves in the rough. We're all going to kick up a little dust. Don't dwell there. Focus on the prize and get back on track.

As followers of Jesus, we know full well what the prize is and we know that if we apply scripture to ourselves then we'll see hazards come into play. We would find it in our best interest to remain composed, focused and trained so we know how to respond in the face of certain trials. Make sure that you progress and, on your final approach, find yourself entering the promised land.

1 Cor 9:24-27 

24 Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. 25 Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. 26 Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. 27 No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.

CROSSFIT (continued)

Well, it happened again today. I started the day with a couple of cups of coffee and went to the gym. The gym, as mentioned in one of my earlier blogs ("Crossfit"), has been a place of a lot of inspiration for what's been happening in my life. Why Crossfit? Because life changes. A lot of those changes are often uncomfortable and unwanted but definitely needed.

So, I exited the gym with plenty of things on the daily agenda. Most, of which, involved a lot of manual labor and moving things from place to place. While loading my truck, I found myself in conversation with two ladies that had experienced some of those "changes" in the form of job loss and, even, their homes. Suddenly, life changed.

I found myself sitting when there was so much to be done. I was so happy to find that they, both, had recognized this season of loss as a time of opportunity rather than defeat. I believe desperation can sometimes cause us to see more clearly than when things are going well. Maybe a relation to "fight or flight". With things suddenly brought sharply into focus, it either paralyzes us with fear or it empowers us to press on.

Each application produces it's own results. Paralyzed by fear does exactly that. It brings everything to a screeching halt and sucks the life right out of you. Nothing happens. Only existing.

Life, however, happens when we get fed up with just existing and begin to crave life abundant. And, so, the game begins. Senses are sharpened and the body responds. Sometimes explosive. Sometimes delayed. All depending on the signals that are sent from the head to the body. The brain and body always in constant conversation.

Often times, the results aren't instantaneous. In fact, you may never see them. One thing is for certain. Someone else will. People are always watching to see how the story unfolds and, long after we may have passed away, someone will draw from our reactions as a guide to how to approach life.

The reality is, we're all desperate whether we know it or not. Jesus Christ left his throne to walk this earth for 33 years and gave us the perfect demonstration of life. Right now, someone is saying "But, he died...". Yup. And He encourages us to do the same. When we understand our purpose of worship and, in that, realize that it's not about being self serving but, rather, serving others we intentionally listen for God's voice, take the words of instruction and activate. We die to self only to be raised to new life.

What about you? Is this season of loss or desperation or have you found yourself in the harsh estate of complacency? Personally, I don't want to go out without a fight but, in order to do what is required, I'm going to need more power than I can personally muster up. His name is Jesus and He's waiting to breath life into bones.

GAME ON.

GUILTY BY ASSOCIATION?...

Well, I did it again... Under the guise of “practicing my right to free speech” via social media, I found myself in a conversation with someone of far intellectual superiority. So, once again, I ask the question “Why me?” Is this an opportunity for me to actually study what I believe to be true and express it lovingly or was I just spewing my opinions with nothing to stand on? Is this a case of David and Goliath or Peter walking through the gates called “Beautiful” extending the hand of grace?

I had posted my belief that “Bad company corrupts good morals.” (1 Cor 15:33) As a father of three, I prefer that my children not hang out with other kids who may not have the same moral convictions. As Granny used to say, “If you lay down with dogs, you catch fleas.” (I think Granny was pretty sharp...) My friend quickly and clearly stated that he disagreed. He believed disassociation from anyone, for fear of picking up bad habits, is the epitome of weakness of character.

Before getting defensive, I found myself agreeing with him to an extent. After all, Jesus didn’t turn his back on someone when they were in need whether that person recognized the need or not. He didn’t just happen upon the woman at the well smack dab in the middle of Samaria only to leave her there because she had been wed five times. He didn’t disassociate himself from lepers for fear of being infected. As a matter of fact, everybody that he encountered or hung out with was boogered up! More importantly, Jesus was very intentional about where he went, when he went, and who he was near. Again, as I have stated in other posts, Jesus issues the command “Follow me.”.

Though, as Christians, the ultimate goal is to look like Jesus, talk like Jesus, listen like Jesus and love like Jesus, we are NOT Jesus. We are given the opportunity to mature in Christ Jesus but it’s a process. It doesn’t happen immediately. When a baby is born, that baby enters the world helpless and totally dependent on someone else to feed. As the baby grows, he/she develops the ability to feed him/herself but is still not completely independent until much later in life. Through those years, that child has matured considerably, all the while, taking on certain characteristics of the person that raised them. Never, in my life, have I met anyone that was beyond the reach of influence. EVER!

Rarely, if ever, does someone struggling with substance abuse immediately go back into the same environment that they escaped with any success. They have to go through a season of detox, a season of counseling and a season of healing. Only then can they have any hope of ministering to the needs of friends with the same habits without being affected. Even if the maturity level is there, do you really think it’s wise to go back into those areas of persuasion for an extended amount of time? The misled individual may see your actions and think they can do the same thing but result in catastrophe.

Association is defined as “A group of people organized for a joint purpose” which begs the question “What is the joint purpose?”. I, as well, meet with and love people from all walks of life on a daily basis. Some of those people still habitually practice things that are detrimentaI to their and my well being. I’m still growing but I’m wise enough to know that I’m not invincible. Choose your battles wisely and proceed with caution.