Becoming Who We Really Are: The Journey of Being Human

We are always becoming. From the day we were born, and really before that—we embarked on a journey of becoming. We do not stay who we were and we will not remain who we are at this very moment.Who of us would ever want to remain our 6 year old self? Is there anyone who wants to go back and remain 13 for ever?We morph. We change. We grow. We transform. This is the story of our lives.Take a look at me and my grandson, Charlie. He’s just six months old in this picture. Every parent knows that the terrible two’s are coming. But that doesn't matter to me. I'm his grandfather--his Pappy.He’ll go through adolescence; go through puberty; challenge his parents, go to school; get a few jobs, date a few girls and marry someone when he’s ready. He will try on vocational clothes—trying on one job, another role—yet another position until he, at lasts can say, “For this—I was made.” It will be a journey.  Sometimes, we seem to lose sight of the fact of our formation. As Charlie's Pappy, I consider it to be my chef--role to help him know his story and claim his story and live out of his story. I don't have to raise him. But I do want to help him understand his story.Then, there is Charlie’s spiritual journey. A person's spiritual story is really EVERY chapter of their life-story: health, past, relationships, vocational journey, fears, dreams, failures, sin, glory and more. Charlie, like all of us has a spiritual story—a sort of flowing and winding road where he will learn about God. He will hear about his original glory—that deep place within his soul that is all good and full of light. I honestly believe that the most important role of a grandparent is to re-enforce the original glory into our grandchildren. I say this because the parents are so consumed, like we all were, with survival, diapers, driving the kids around and discipline. He will be told about his sin—Lord knows, so much emphasis is on that part of his story that most of us have never even considered our original glory. Before there was sin, remember--there was glory.  He will be shaped by love, hurt, rejection, passion, longings and failure. All of it will shape his little soul that you see today.Charlie, like everyone of us, will be soul shaped by geography and place, good people and hurtful people. He will encounter mystery, facts and figures and be drawn to one or more of those shaping realities.  He will have his own distinct dreams and longings separate from his father and mother and his grandparents. He will make his own choices—some good and some not so good that will all shape his soul.Gifted writer, Madeline L’Engle pens these true words for us:“I am still every age that I have been. Because I was once a child, I am always a child. Because I was once a searching adolescent, given to moods and ecstasies, these are still part of me, and always will be... This does not mean that I ought to be trapped or enclosed in any of these ages...the delayed adolescent, the childish adult, but that they are in me to be drawn on; to forget is a form of suicide... Far too many people misunderstand what *putting away childish things* means, and think that forgetting what it is like to think and feel and touch and smell and taste and see and hear like a three-year-old or a thirteen-year-old or a twenty-three-year-old means being grownup.And Spiritual author and mentor, David Benner writes, “Identifying and embracing your lineage is an important part of any pathway to greater wholeness because it involves remembering your own story. All the parts of your journey must be woven together if you are to transcend your present organization and level of consciousness. For myself, the great challenge was re-embracing traditions that I have grown beyond and that offered—even at the time—an oppressively small worldview. I did not want to be an ex-evangelical or an ex-fundamentalist. Too many people live that life of dis-identification, and I did not want to share their anger and “stuckness.” It was essential, therefore, for me to identify and embrace the gifts that had come to me from these traditions. This was the way in which I came to know that everything in my life belongs, that every part of my story has made important contributions to who I am. And the same is true for you.Charlie will have chapters of his life that he will have to make sense of. Each of us have chapters—some we like and some we don’t. There are sad chapters of failed marriages, broken relationships and following our prodigal hearts.  But what sense can we make of these shattered pieces of our story--these illusions that are so hard to die in us?When I look back at some of my chapters, I’ve noticed that as I’ve “moved on” or “moved through” a particular season or chapter, I had no real way of integrating THAT particular chapter into my story or soul.  At times, I felt like I was shedding old snake skins so that something new could come out.  I felt the need to "get rid" of the old skins rather than embrace them.  How about you?For many years now, I have called myself an “Re-Covering Baptist.” That always gets a good laugh in most circles I speak in except when I am among the Baptist themselves.   But truthfully, there were things—boxy things; narrow things, and some things I could never quite figure out that all seems to be informing me, “This is not you, Steve.” “This is not who you are. Pay attention.”  I'm wondering if in my telling you this about me, what might stir inside of you?  What or who are you "re-covering" from?Some of us will be recovering from some thing; some group; some political affiliation, some denomination or some person. Some of us will have addiction in our story—a lot of us. Some of us will have abuse. Some of us will discover we were abused not by what was “done” to us but by what was not given us—that every human being created in the imago Die deserves, requires and needs to be whole and healthy.I have heard the stories of thousands of souls—and the stories that bother and confound me the most are those that go like this:-I don’t have a past.-My past was buried and all I have is a present and a future.This past Saturday, I took a long drive and came upon a church with a big sign which read, “No one has a past—only a future.” I sat in the parking lot so disturbed by that sign that I had a quiet protest with my coffee, then drove on.What a lie—to say “no one has a past.” Here’s the deal. Charlie is living his past every single day right now.  And so are you.  So am I.So much truth and so much light is in our past that it’s really shocking. Our challenge is that so many of us don’t really know our story. We say, “We can’t remember.” Or, “That was so long ago, I’ve forgotten it.” I doubt it. The mind stores up all of these gold memories for us to mine and find the nuggets of gold that will enrich our lives.  Gwen and I have been working with a gifted therapist who is trained in helping us unlock the memories we can't dredge up--but have "bothered us". It's been such a helpful investment--particularly in our marriage. We felt the need to finally unlock the door of  each of our past that had gone unexplored and unexamined. We did this because we were hitting some impasses--all about our individual formation stories. It felt like our individual "past" stories were colliding and creating friction.  After 37 years, we felt like it was time to dig in and see what was "there".  We are both enjoying the fruits right now of such work--more peace and contentment than ever in our marriage.The apostle Paul reminds us, “We see through a glass dimly but one day, we will see face to face.” I think there’s far, far, far more to that verse than we can ever quite imagine. Our stories and Charlie’s story is already dim. We just don’t quite get or understand the power of people who shape our souls. We have not had enough science to reveal how our memories—our traumas—our beautiful experiences make us who we are.As I review my own story from time to time, I am realizing the power and significance of the shaping experiences of having a dramatic conversation on January 21, 1972 in my university chapel. Later, I was deeply shaped by flaming charismatic friends and one amazing Lutheran Pastor (Herb Mirley) who helped me break out of my boxes and experience an inner life where Jesus lives. Having a creed was not enough for me. I wanted it all. These friends helped me speak in what I though was “tongues”—but gave up after feeling like I forcing "it" to convince my friends, “I had it.” I was discipled diligently for four years by an Inter-Varsity staff worker who singled me out and poured massive time, books and memorizing Scripture into my soul. Some of what he "taught" me, I know now is wrong and not correct. I tried then to make a break from my denominational roots but did not have the courage to do so, so settled in for twenty years until I could find the words and muster the courage to say, “This is not me.”Like Benner, I am learning to embrace all of my chapters—all of my story into one, whole and integrated story that has shaped me.  It feels as close to what David wrote when he prayed, "Give me an undivided heart, that I might praise your name." For many years, my heart has been divided by doctrine, boxed by fears and marshaled by an energy that now I see was man made--not God shaped.Even now, I am still becoming. I am not done. There are still some things I need to lay aside in order to grasp hold of what is ahead of me. Some labels don’t fit me anymore and I want to grow in my gratitude for these chapters rather than be held hostage by them. I want to thank the Lord for the good I got wearing the label and courageously be willing to keep moving forward.How would you tell your story?  Who knows your story?  It would be a good goal in the the year ahead and find some trusted, safe and loving friends to listen to your story--and you listen to their story. Here are six suggestions:

1. Use my book Soul Shaping to explore your past shaping events and people.
2. Read or re-read my book The Lazarus LIfe where I tell me story through the story of Lazarus. You'll be given language and vocabulary to dig into your own story. There's a work book also for more and deeper work.
3. Develop a time line in five year increments where you note the people, places, events and internal awakenings you experienced including abuse, trauma and rich and wonderful events.
4. Make a time with 2-5 friends and give each person one hour to tell their story uninterrupted and unedited.
5. Be kind to yourself as you dig into your story. Most stories have chapters and novels of guilt and shame. See if you can find the light and grace in each chapter of your story—for God has been with you all along, just has it is with Charlie right now.
6. Ask God to help you remember and consider sitting with someone gracious, non-judging and who can deeply listen to your story.

The Disillusionment of Holy Week

Growing up, I never heard of “Holy Week.” Now, it’s all the rage. I am left to wonder why? As a child, I just anticipated the big day of Easter. I knew nothing about the week before. Now, as an adult, I know that I cannot fully grasp the day of Easter without being grasped by the week before Easter. Perhaps this is why I can fully realize this week as a Holy Week.Our world has become so secular; so filled with eggs and bunnies, robins and nests, chocolate and brightly colored baskets. We want all the color, comfort and cozy things of life without the pain and passion of these days of “Holy Week.” The week before Easter has nothing to do with bright color; nothing to do with bunnies; nothing to do with celebration.Holy Week is a journey of seven days and seven long nights to examine the pain and passion of Jesus. It’s about examining unmet expectations; shattered dreams and painful realizations of disillusionment. When one embraces one's own betrayal; dashed dreams and discarded illusions we've clung to in life, then we are ready for a deeper meaning of Easter.All the people around Jesus were dashed to the ground, along with their dreams and illusions, because of this week. Each one: Mary, Peter, Judas, Lazarus, Martha—all had their personal hopes go bankrupt. Each faced a disillusionment of their own seismic proportions. Each person lost something. Peter lost his loyalty. Thomas lost his faith. Judas lost his life. Mary lost her son. Each day of this week became a new ground zero of faith and failure; betrayal and conviction; courage and cowards. Holy week is holding on to what we have lost in life--or will lose soon. There are no exemptions for some kind of loss. None. Every person must walk through their own holy week of loss, disappointment and bewilderment. These are the very things that prepare us for a new opening in our lives--even the opening of a tomb.On Thursday in particular, it was a day of the bottom falling out of the sky. This happened to us, just today. We had hoped of spending our Easter days with a couple of our sons and their families. Our grandchildren were coming. We found a small house at the beach to hold us. They found a house to hold them. It was all set. Then, it came-- a phone call of Maundy Thursday proportions. There house fell through and a phone call brought the shocking news of a tightly held illusion going south. They were told that their house was double booked and they could not come.When the news came, I at first felt a lunge of panic---my hopes of finding sea shells by the sea shore with my grandkids were harpooned and I was left sinking and felt my dreams drowning in the high tide. We would be alone. We would be by ourselves. A shattered dream--again.But my illusions of Easter are pitiful in comparison to Mary—the mother of Jesus. The son she bore in her womb would soon be crucified and she would stand at the cross as she stood when that angel's message pierced her virgin soul. How Mary did it, is how we all must learn to do it--to do life--to endure and to overcome--for this is the real message of every Easter.I had a Mary moment on Maundy Thursday when that phone call came from my son. I mustered courage to say, “All is not lost. Something will open up.” And it did. Another house came open due to someone elses cancellation and alas, my grands and my sons and their wives will come. It will be Easter after all. There will be sea shelling and eggs and crab benedict to boot.You and I stand this week in a week that truly is holy. Each day as we move close to the grave opening up—which is far, far, far better than a house at the beach opening up, everything in our lives will change.May the disappointments, betrayal, shattered dreams, stings of the many deaths of our journies, converge to a Blessed Easter--a day of every tomb opening for us because of the opening of Jesus' tomb that very holy morn.But until then--until Easter, we must wait in our shattered dreams.

It Takes a Long Time to Grow a Salad

It takes a long, long time to make a salad like this. Let me explain. In 1997, I woke up in the middle of the night and it was, as if I heard an audible Voice telling me to get a pad a paper and to start writing. It wasn’t really audible but it was as sure as a message telling me to do something that I have ever heard. So,  I got up. I picked the yellow pad on my desk and began to write these words, “It will be called the Potter’s Inn.” What followed was about an hour of note-taking where I wrote down the vision of Potter’s Inn ministry. That document became for us, as important as the Magna Charta or the Declaration of Independence. We have it to this day and still refer to it in times of discouragement.The vision was clear and precise. There would be an actual, physical place where those who were weary and tired would come for a respite. The journey of life and faith is hard and challenging and ever since the beginning of Jesus’ teachings, there were always “places” where people would come for renewal, guidance and rest.The English novelist J.R.R. Tolkien described such a place in  famous, Lord of the Rings where he gives words to such a place. It would be  “a perfect house, whether you like food or sleep or storytelling or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all. Merely to be there was a cure for weariness, fear and sadness.”  Gwen and I have long wanted our own Potter's Inn retreat to resemble Tolkien's description. We sat out to live this vision.  Today, 19 years  later, people from over 80 nations have come to Potter's Inn.  Some tired; some needy; some thirsty but all in search of a resting place for their own journey.This was the beginning of Potter’s Inn. Step by step for the past 19 years, Gwen and I put this vision and transformed it to what is now known as The Potter’s Inn at Aspen Ridge, a small, beautiful retreat nestled in the  Colorado Rockies. A part of the vision that we followed called for a garden where guests and staff would go to pick fresh greens, pull carrots from the good Earth and harvest tomatoes from vines that were ready to give up their goods. 19 years later; 19 years from when this first vision was “seen”—today Gwen and I picked the first fruits—the very first vegetables from the Potter’s Inn garden. We came home. We made a fresh salad composed of tender lettuce; fresh spinach, young orange carrots and a few other goodies. We sat down on our porch and it felt like church. I was overwhelmed with the beauty in my bowl. I was humbled knowing that it took 19 years to make this salad.Eugene Peterson describes a journey like this as a “long obedience in the same direction.” I can give witness to the fact that our long obedience in the same direction has been long; been one of obeying the Vision and the Vision giver and with a resolve to keep going forward. At times, we wanted to quit--for it has been so uphill.  When people come to our retreat, they are often amazed at the beauty but they do not know the long, hard winters both physically and emotionally, as well as financially, we have endured. They do not know the people who have come and gone--the sheer amount of work it has taken to put legs to this vision. Its been a lot of plowing so to speak. It's been a lot of hoeing. It's been a lot of work.In our day of instant, quick and immediate returns, we have perhaps forgotten the long obedience needed not only for a vision to be fulfilled but for a life to be lived well.Luke wrote a biography of the life and teachings of Jesus and Luke described the childhood days of Jesus by saying, “And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years and in divine and human favor (Luke 2:52). Jesus indeed had a long obedience. As his years increased so did his wisdom. As he lived well, he was graced with favor by both people and by God. It was a long obedience.  Through trials, testing and tribulation, we see the seeds Jesus himself planted. some have taken root in me and some in you. What he began, we now are feasting upon today. It took him sacrifice and for all who persevere today, sacrifice is not an option--it is a requirement.I am thinking as I write this, of my grandchildren. They have a long obedience in front of them. The journey is going to be uphill, hard and challenging. They will not be able to fast-track their formation. They will not be able to get all they will need at “fast-food” joints. It takes a long, long time to grow character. My grandchild, still in utero, will need to go through pain and birth and pain again many, many times to form their soul. They will have to be tested. Their morals; their choices; their beliefs will have to be tried by fire and tempered by the anvil of failure and forgiveness. Mistakes will happen. Failure will come. Contentment will be learned.   Through all of this and more, character will be forged. It will take a long, long time.It takes a long time to grow a marriage. Everyone knows the wedding is the simple part; the easy part and perhaps in the end, the least expensive part of growing a healthy marriage. Some lessons a couple will learn will be very expensive to learn. There will be unlearning and re-learning and transformation. The man will fail and ask for forgiveness. The woman will succumb to a force she may have never known; never admitted to nor ever wanted. But through time; in time and by time, the heart of the couple will grow deeper in love than the innocent love expressed on their wedding day. One day, one partner will lay his spouse down. It will be a giving up that is unimaginable to those of us who have never done this kind of laying down. Couples who hit bumps in the road through failure, unfaithfulness, and other collapses can, indeed find a new place of beginning yet again.On my 60th birthday, I will never forget the horrible fight that erupted between Gwen and me. I said to her in utter hurt and frustration, "Gwen, we've been married a very long time. You should have known this about me by now."  I was angry, disappointed and totally frustrated that I was having to explain what I thought was a basic like and dislike.  As we cool down, we learned how much we still have to learn about each other. We learned how deeply we still needed to really listen to each other. It was yet, another turning point for us in our maturing marriage.It takes a long time for a preacher to learn how to become a pastor and not just a teacher. Lessons are easy to spin off each week. But to earn the mantle of being a pastor is sacred honor that comes only in time where trust is nurtured and wisdom is cultivated. Getting the degree is the easy part. Earning the trust is far more challenging.It takes a long time for a entrepreneur to take a breather from the uphill climb of starting a business; of launching a new product. Nine of out ten new businesses fail. Nine out of ten new churches fail.  Nine out of ten partnerships fail. There is a lot of failing before we find our sweet spot and recognize what true success really is all about.It takes a long, long time for a boy to become a man; for a girl to become a woman; for a youth to grow their soul as well as their bodies. A soul tends to mature far slower than does a physique of an athlete.  The literal meaning of "education" means to pull out what is already inside. It is not the amassing of information that leads to greatness. It is all about transformation.  No one who knows everything recognizes that they need to be transformed. Only the broken beg for change and forgiveness--the proud never do and never will.The Bible gives this kind of notion a word called, “perseverance.” To preserve is to endure; to live with determination; to have the resolve to not quit; not give up but to stick to the task until it is complete. We learn through the writings of Peter--a man who failed many times as a leader--that perseverance is a true virtue. It is something to be rewarded and the reward really comes only to those who do not quit.  Our salad was our reward.Our salad tasted as if it were the bread and wine of communion. Just like we hear by the pastors and priests, the bread had to be broken and the wine had to be poured out—both symbols of loss and a seeming dead end. But as we chewed on this leafy, green eucharist for our dinner, we were transported to a place of profound thanksgiving. We bowed—we wanted to bow—because God did this. Through the 19 years, through the cancer; through the death of other dreams; through the walking by faith and not by sight, we saw, yet another piece of the vision fulfilled. I placed a fork in my salad and slowly lifted the spinach, lettuce, carrots drizzled with a homemade dressing, I was so, very, very happy—do deeply content.To be honest, I would have to tell you that not all of the Vision I received that night has happened. Some of it has and I still find myself wondering how in the world will what is not yet—will actually become. Will it happen in my life time? Am I only the one who planted and there remains another who will come water and yet another who will see the harvest. I am old enough now---through my long obedience to trust that my part is really but one, small part. As a wise man once said, “We are but the light bulb and our real job know is to just stay screwed in.” I like that and it makes sense.This sacred salad serves as a moment in time for me to see; to have and to enjoy a true respite on the journey. I can still taste this sacred salad. Can you? 

No Time to be Sad

“Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted.”- Jesus in Matthew 5:4 This is the age of superficiality. It is the age of skimming the surface of our lives without the notice of what is below the waterline.We are busy. We live fast and we are over-extended. There is so much going on above the waterline, how will we ever find the time to explore what is below the waterline? Just how does one stop and allow sadness to undo us when we are spinning all the plates of life, money, work and stress?Busy people send text messages when someone dies. There is no time to bake a pie. There is no time to give the hug that says more than words can ever communicate. We “Like” something on social media when we what we really want to say is that we don’t like it at all that you may be in a coma in the hospital and near your last breath. But a “like” or a text seems to do.[tweetthis]We do not mourn. We do not lament. We do not grieve. We have forgotten how to allow our sad hearts to bubble up to our overly made up external appearances.[/tweetthis] In Jewish culture, when someone died, people dressed in black for a whole year. That seems so endless—perhaps even ridiculous. We have parties and cookouts to attend. We have things to do; people to see and places to go.Yet in the midst of all of this living we try to do, Jesus turns the world upside down when he says, something very good will come from mourning that will in fact, bless you. I have to admit that sometimes, many of the teachings of Jesus seem like he is speaking in a foreign language—like Chinese. It seems so way out to say that there is a blessing that will come when we take the time to mourn. Is it Chinese?[tweetthis]When we take the time to allow our sad hearts to catch up with our breathless lifestyle we soon see that we are addicted to pleasure.[/tweetthis] Ours is the age is numbing pain, not entering it. Yet, Jesus calls us to not only enter pain but to realize that when we enter pain—either our own or someone else’s that a sheer, unadulterated comforted will be ours. Jesus is calling us to enter pain, not try to go around it and more, he says, by entering pain, we assuage it—or God does.There is no escaping suffering. Sooner or later it is going to bite us all on the butt and drop us to our knees. When we mourn this; when we slow down and recognize that suffering is one of the great ties that bind us all together as humans, then we stand on level ground. There are no hierarchy’s in pain. We all stand low; kneel low and beg low, don’t we?This past year, my own family has been baptized in the cesspool of pain. The death of a child—our grandson broke us. Some people texted us. All the texts made us more sad. Can I just tell you that texting or the use of social media is probably not the best form of entering someone’s pain. When my father died, someone who I thought knew better sent a text while I was putting my suit on to take my father’s body to the grave. Rather than be comforted, I was outraged. His text broke the frozen grief in my heart. I wanted to text back, “I don’t need your text. I need you!” But like so many times, I swallowed that grief only to see if morph into a distancing and emotional estrangement today—years later.Mourning is something even the church does not know how to do anymore. In our mega-ness, funerals are now happening in side rooms or no room at all. They are relegated to businesses that make a lot of money when we are most vulnerable. Some churches are so concerned with the lost, they have forgotten those who are lost in their grief.  For many, the state of the church is worthy of mourning and lamenting.This saddens me and sickens me. I mourn about our society. I mourn about so much that seems to be happening so quickly in our country. [tweetthis]I mourn that we seem to have lost our way and I am wondering---if not mourning-- that we may never find our way again and like Rome, perish and soon. I mourn that.[/tweetthis]I mourn that so many of the folks I know are now the unchurched—a label once thought only reserved for those who never went to church. Now, I am seeing more don’t then do. I mourn that.I mourn over a lion that was killed this week. I mourn over hearing the words of a Medical doctor employed by Planned Parenthood choosing to use the words, “crush” when it comes to the skill that is now implemented in an abortion. I mourn that.I mourn that my own children cannot live in the same community and have Sunday dinner’s together. I mourn that often we live in different countries, not counties. For me, I mourn that we cannot get together enough. We never will. Times have changed. We will not be there for the birth’s of our cousins; not be able to celebrate anniversaries; not able to light candles or eat sliced, ruby red watermelon on the 4^th of July. I mourn that.I mourn that my wife at 60 is having to work through the childhood issues of being raised in a Boarding School in Africa—that childhood issues become adult issues. I mourn that.I mourn that at my age I have found no way to slow time down. I only am a witness now of it's speed. I mourn this deeply. And with this mourning comes the realization that for me, one day soon, time will itself stop and I will pass like every other mortal life passes from this earth. I mourn this because I have loved my life.I mourn that I can’t call my Mom and ask her about what Dr. Oz (her favorite show) said on his TV show every day. She died. I miss her still. I mourn that. I don't know what Dr. Oz says anymore about anything. Does he ever tell us how healthy it is to mourn?There are so many things to mourn if we stop and and enter whatever it is that is happening---there is a deeper perspective. And this deeper perspective makes us love life, nourish life and protect life with every fiber in our body and soul.  When we get things "out" something else comes "in" and this is what Jesus and all the Biblical writers called--peace.  To get things out is to mourn whether it is the giving out of a tear, a groan, a sigh or a blog.I have never found any better words than these to help us understand the power of mourning:  [tweetthis]When life is heavy and hard to take, Go off by yourself, Enter the silence. Bow in prayer. Don’t ask questions; Wait for hope to appear. Don’t’ run from trouble. Take it full-face. The “worst” is never the worst. Lamentations 3:28-30[/tweetthis] (I have been living in the Beatitudes of Jesus for a year and am just now blogging about the insights, gold and comfort I am finding in them.)

The Wild and Peaceful Landscapes of Stillness

During Sabbatical I had some amazing adventures in experiencing the difference between the stillness I thought I knew about and had studying about and the stillness that patiently lead me to wild and peaceful landscapes within me that I had never seen or even knew existed.There is nothing like being surrounded in stillness by an endless deep ocean and a crisp blue sky that seems to stretch to eternity. I sat still; I stood still, even holding my breath so as not to miss the glory of such a sight. Creation of the Creator unfolding right in from of me and I became a silent witness. What a privilege. I was honored and to this day I hold the honor in my heart.To encounter the Creator at his work while wrapped in stillness is to not remain the same. Stillness gave me the deep awareness that while being a silent witness, being actually present with God in a glorious display of nature right before my eyes, he too was present with me in the landscape of the dark, rugged crevices of piercing grief and suffering . In stillness I experienced my presence with God in beauty and his presence with me in brokenness. We were together and it was good. Nothing fixed or figured out. Nothing healed and made brand new.Stillness gave me an experience with Companionship and Compassion and Comfort. I wasn’t alone with my isolating fears and blinding tears. Stillness ushered me into that mysterious peace that had nothing to do with understanding anything. Stillness granted me the reality of Divine Presence. Stillness let me know God in the midst of what seems to be a godless situation. Stillness made an inviting space for me to know and listen to God say, “Be still and know me”. And I did.Stillness gave me space to listen to the unexpressed voice crying out from my desolate wilderness. This is what I heard:A Prayer for Tommy*Holy, precious, purest angel face,God, please kiss him with your tender grace.Double chinButton nosePerfect little fingersSweetest tiny toes.Holy is this momentLove and sorrow flowsHearts that ache to hold himAre held by One who knows.Tommy Jacob Smith, my fourth grandchild: born March 5,2015—died, March 5, 2015

Our Sabbatical Journey Towards Poverty

During the first four weeks of our sabbatical—I think all that happened in me was a slow coming off the drug of work; the stimulus of my adrenalin and a steady withdrawal from being available. My brain was too tired; too vacant to read anything at all. I spent hours staring at the waves from a barrier island off the coast of North Carolina where we hunkered down. There I read the waves—not books. I couldn’t read words, listen to sermons or podcasts. It was too much…just way too much information coming at me. I had to stop and learn to listen and hear in a new way. Silence said more to me than at any other time in my life.But as I documented in my journal, I finally wanted to read in week three. And what I wanted to read was the Scripture. I needed ancient words to stick in my soul.Modern words can be so shallow sometimes. So I began to read Exodus—a fitting book because here I read about being in the wilderness and I found myself in one after so many long years of work. I skipped to Acts where I read about the movement of Jesus taking root in the heart and lives of the new found followers of Jesus. I found myself wanting what they wanted. I needed what they needed. I longed for the same things as many of the people found in that book: healing, purpose, companionship, forgiveness. The list goes on.Then, I landed upon the Beatitudes of Jesus—those short, life altering statements which throw a rod into the spokes of our fast moving life. They made me stop. They altered the trajectory of my life. The dismantled my programs for happiness. They undid me. Day after day, I read them, sat with them and marinated in them. They de-stabilized my efforts to be happy. They offered to me a whole new way of looking at life. And I suppose I was ready to breathe these paradigm shifting and life altering statements deep within me.The first one talks about being “Poor in Spirit” and the blessing that comes to us in such times of poverty. Yes, I was found in my own spiritual, emotional, mental and relational poverty. I had to lay down my efforts of knowing how God works. I was empty for explanation of any sorts to myself, to Gwen, to my family. I was needy—a beggar of sorts. Desperate for someone to give me my daily bread because all the bread I was making wasn’t satisfying my soul. To become poor is to become dependent on the care of others--like a beggar. A truly poor person becomes open to the receptivity of others--the generosity of a crumb--even a small token of love has a way of filling a poor person's heart and soul.I was helped here in becoming poor by the death of our fourth grandson. Losing something that you thought was so important has a way of bringing us to our knees. This happened to me. I felt bankrupt of feelings and wallowed in sorrow for our loss. I couldn’t not find words—even though I love words and use words and teach words and write words. I was wordless and still am in some respect. I feel poor in my ability to say what has happened in me.I got to see Tommy fifteen minutes after his birth. I held him. Gwen was able to be in the delivery room and witness his birth and passing into Heaven. When I went in, his body was already changing from pink to blue. As his body became blue, my soul became more blue. I held him and in a way, he held me. The picture you see is Tommy holding me—my finger—my soul. As this happened, I was saying “Hello, Tommy—welcome to this world. Good bye, Tommy, I will see you soon in Heaven.” It was way to brief; way to short; way to hard.What made my poverty even more of a loss for me to experience is that so many of my friends seemed to have remained quiet. I still don’t really know why that is. Maybe I have not understood the quietness of friendship yet. Perhaps, they assumed we would be surrounded. We were not. Perhaps ,they were afraid of saying the wrong thing. Perhaps, I live with illusions about what community looks like, feels like and tastes like. I also know that we are loved but in such a time as this for us, the quiet became so very loud and seemed to only reinforce our aloneness even more. We are so very grateful for the acts of love we did receive. They truly did assuage our soul. But let me just say it here: plain and simple. Nothing replaces the incarnational love of God in such a time as someone's flesh--someone's hug; someone's embrace. Nothing replaces that. It was for us, the loneliest time of our three scores of walking this planet and I never want to feel that sense of aloneness again in my life. Never. In this time, I read an article by the New York times columnist, David Brooks who hit the nail on the head in his most excellence piece, "The Art of Presence." Please do go back and read his true words. His words should become required reading for anyone who thinks of themselves as a caring, loving person.In the end, our sons and daughters rallied around us and in them and through them we found a solace we so, so needed and wanted. Grief is the robber of all joy and our grief was doubled in that Tommy's death was OUR grandson, not just any child; not just a statistic of chromosomes gone bad; not just another baby. Flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone leaving to become dust is such a loss. It is heartbreaking for any 26 year old couple to lose a child and enter into the death of innocence.It was not just Tommy's death. It was witnessing the utter devastation of our last born son and his beautiful wife. In many ways, this grief was, for us, harder than Tommy's death because in a way, our son and daughter both died that day---or a big part of them did. Our grief was doubled by this realization too!Grief and poverty---becoming poor in spirit became the key to unlock both of the hearts of Gwen and myself. Grief and poverty of soul forced us in ways, we did not even know we could, rely on the One who is Comfort indeed. And what we found is this: God's comfort really is real. God's love really is enough. My poverty leads to God's riches. Yet, we would not have chosen this key to unlock our frozen hearts. But through our grandson’s death and walking with our son and daughter in law, we were taken to the greatest season of neediness that we have ever experienced in our lives. We became raw. We became desperate. We became poor. And this poverty has now ushered us into such richness that we will try to explain in upcoming posts."Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Jesus in Matthew 5: 3"Your blessed when you are at the end of your rope. With less of you, there is more of God and his rule." Jesus in Matthew 5:3, Message

Living the Life You Want To Live

Does it sound selfish---I mean to ask  yourself this kind of question: What kind of life do you want to live?  Let's talk about this for a few moments today.  Do I want my life to be driven by others?  Steered by others?  Fueled by busyness?  Fulfilling lists and obligations?  How can we move into living an intentional life ripe with longings fulfilled; living with no regret and challenged by living with a greater purpose than survival?I'm thinking through some categories of how I will answer this question. Categories are really helpful to help me break this question down and really try to answer the question.For example...my health will matter in the answer. I want to be healthy. So learning to choose and make healthy choices will be important in living the life I most want to live. I don't want to die early by making bad and unhealthy choices. So, health will be a category of how I want to live. I want to live in a healthy way will mean that I must eat in healthy ways. I must also choose to invest time in my body to exercise and to move more.  So, to answer the question, of what is the life I want to live will mean facing this category straight on and make some adjustments.Here's another category I'm thinking through.  I have had many roles in my life.  I've been a pastor, author,counselor, spiritual director, husband, father, brother and son.  What roles do I want to continue to serve in for my future which is both near and dear. Some of my roles, I need to give up and other roles I will want to assume. I noticed on Facebook that one of my friends changed their title of their Facebook page to Author John Doe.  That was interesting to me to look at and figure out if I liked that for myself. I don't--even though I've authored six books now. I'm more than an author.  In the life I want to live, what roles are the most important? What roles do I sense a calling--a voice telling me to "Do this...or do that..."  What MUST I do with my one and ordinary life is the focus question.Place is another category. Where do I want to live my only life I will ever be given. I settled this question 12 years ago because I decided I wanted to live in the West...where there is drama in the panorama of what I look at. I was tired of heat, humidity and the Bible belt...so with this in mind, we moved. It was costly. We sacrificed family ties and traded them for geographical beauty.  Place matters alot to many people. Where do you really WANT to live?Community is an important category. Who do you want to live out your life with in the next 5-10 years? I'm facing this question head on now. In our move to the retreat, we're leaving being spontaneous in calling a friend and saying "Let's meet for dinner." Now, it's an hour drive. It cost gas money now and it takes time to drive down. So, we are thinking our new community will be fostered, developed and nurtured in whole new ways. We will have to re-think some things.  We're realized that every relationship that is NOT reciprocal is not a relationship we will choose to invest in for friendship sake. Reciprocal living is one of the greatest Biblical values---all the 5o plue "one another" statements in the Bible only underscores the longing to live life out with a few people who can love and be loved; touch and be touched; celebrate and be celebrated.   So this category will force me to re-think what  I will do about my groups, my dearest friends and even my church.Family is a category to think through carefully. Who really is our family?  I now live 1500 miles from my sons, my mother, my sister and my only brother. Jesus said that "Whoever does the will of my Father is my sister and brother."  That's a big statement to ponder. In my case, I have felt ties to family re-ignited. I've wanted to close old gaps. I've wanted old hurts healed. I've wanted the space between me and the ones I loved closed so that their are no longer huge emotional gaps and questions. What other categories would you suggest to think through in fostering the life you most want to live?  What have I left out that seems blatantly obvious to you?

Letters to My Children Chiefly on: Life

The Bond of MarriagePeople talk about a bond in marriage. There is one. It is invisible but it is there.  The preacher in Ecclesiastes describes it this way:It's better to have a partner than go it alone.Share the work, share the wealth.And if one falls down, the other helps,But if there's no one to help, tough!Two in a bed warm each other.Alone, you shiver all night.By yourself you're unprotected.With a friend you can face the worst. (Ecc. 4:9-12 MSG)The writer speaks of the "wealth" in marriage and what I can tell you is: there is great wealth in a good marriage. It is enough to have a good marriage and live in a small house and drive average cars. The wealth of your marriage will sustain you when houses and cars fall apart. He tells us "with a friend, you can face the worst." I like that a lot. The wealth in marriage will get your through the worst and it's important that the worst happens--even in the best of marriages. Marriages are strengthens by going through the worst, not around it.Marriage is about being a companion. The word "companion" means in French a 'beggar of bread." In marriage you will find yourselves begging for a lot of things: health when one of you is sick; comfort when one of you is in pain; satisfaction when one of you is discontent and joy when sadness grips your heart. It's better to beg for the bread of life together than to go it alone. This passage more than others in the Bible paints the truest picture of marriage that I know. I wanted you to know about it.The bond of marriage is the making of one story out of two stories. Alone, all you have is your story. But in marriage, it's not just your story that matters anymore. When you marry, you relinquish having an individual story.  You begin in a new way. It's now, "our story."  The man brings his own plot and drama and the woman brings hers. Both stories unfold in a new way.  Marriage is all about knowing your partner's story inside and out. It's about sharing now in new scenes; new drama that will certainly unfold and blending the past into the present which will yield into the future.; being found; being discovered and being known so deeply that it takes your breath away.You will be more in love in your fifth year than you are in your first week. Your love in the 20th year will in no way resemble the love in your second year. It will get better with time as you work to build your relationship and never coast in it. At least you should be. I say that because the more time you share; the more stories you live together the more you will discover depths and strengths in your spouse that you never knew before. Time has  away of testing these bonds and so does the drama of life. Let me be clear, your marriage will not get better unless you work at your marriage to be better. This needs to be the goal hold by both of you. I've found there is no 50/50 in marriage. Sometimes, I've had to go 80% and  more and so has Mom. Rarely do we ever go half way together and it works. We're both strong, gifted, spirited and soulful and this requires compromise, negotiating and forgiveness.The glue to your bond will be this: understanding your need to forgive and be forgiven. You will find in your marriage that you will hurt and be hurt.  You will disappoint and be disappointed in. The salve of forgiveness should be applied often and thick--without reserve. Anger drives wedges into the space between you. Hidden issues that you are not aware of are at work causing pressure and the pressure will build till one of you blows your stack. Be quick to forgive. Try to make it a rule to never go to bed angry.  If you live with that rule, then you'll have alot of late nights to resolve the tension. But the marriage bed is no place for the tension that can arise. Deal with that in the den and keep the bedroom safe for openness, vulnerability and mutuality.Through the years, you'll find that particular issues will always seem to surface. I don't know what yours will be but ours are predictable and both Mom and I know the tender spaces and thin places that if we go there--we should only proceed with great caution, tremendous care and undeniable unconditional love. To go there in anger is to make more danger than you can possibly imagine.Always choose your spouse over your children. I've seen hundreds make the mistake of loving their children more than their spouse and it's regrettable when this happens. The marriage love is the most supreme, highest and most sacred bond on earth. The Bible says it is so and Jesus re-emphasized it in his teachings. So, keeping it first and the priority will help you as parents when your children try to divide you and split you--first in decision making and then later in competing priorities.Hopefully, you'll age well together. The smooth skin will become wrinkled and it's in the wrinkles and folds that make the deepest places for love to hold you. What will be incredible is this: as you age and change your love will grow and expand for all the changes and ways you will change. Don't resist the change because your marriage will grow and the love will expand.When you choose your spouse, you are choosing them for life--not a season.There will be nothing better for your own soul that to find and develop  life long companion. This doesn't just happens. It means dying to yourself. Dying to your illusions about life and marriage and living in the truth with lots and lots of grace and then more grace when you have run out of grace--there will be more. There will be.  Your marriage is a story that will have many plots and characters that come and go but central of all are the two of you. No one else should come in an be shared in your marriage. Marriage is for two not three.