heroes

Who are your heroes?  For some reason I've been thinking about that question all day.  Maybe because I've run across a few folks today that qualify.  Folks that I didn't even realize were heroes of mine until I walked away from an encounter with them.  You see my biggest heroes are the folks that, for the most part, the world doesn't even notice.  But at the same time those that the world really can't do without.  My heroes are not the folks in the limelight, not the people with thousands of followers on twitter, not the ones that are always out in front, doing the BIG things.  My heroes are the ones who are content, and actually even prefer, to be hidden...in the background.  Those willing to go unnoticed and unappreciated even as they faithfully continue to do and to be all that God has called them to do and to be.  My heroes are those that are at home with small and quiet...and choose to give themselves there, because the people they give themselves to and the things they invest themselves in, while important, are not particuluarly the people or the things that the world would choose to give itself to or invest itself in.  My heroes are the ones that end up doing the things that no one else really wants to do, or spending time with the people that no one else really wants to spend time with.

My friend Rusty is one of my heroes.  In fact, I saw him just today...he was taking up money at a high school baseball game because the man who normally does it (another hero) was in the hospital.  Maybe thats why this is on my mind in the first place.  Rusty loves people.  By that I do not mean he is a people person, which he is, but I mean that he loves people.  He makes time for people, to listen to them, to talk with them.  He knows everyone's name and knows everyone's story.  And every one of those people that belong to one of those names or to one of those stories knows one thing about Rusty...he cares.  He simply has one of the biggest hearts I have ever run across.  Rusty is also a hero of mine because he always does the thing no one else wants to, or is willing to do...and he does it with grace and kindness...in a wonderfully hidden and incredibly beautiful way.  And he not only is content to do it that way, but actually prefers it.  He doesn't care about getting credit, or recognition, or applause...he just wants to be faithful.  In fact I could go on and on...but even that would seem to cheapen, in a way, the wonderful attitude and compassionate heart with which he goes about his life.  So Rusty, my friend, here's to you...you are a treasure...and a true hero of mine.  And I hope you never read this...because then it might give your secret away.

pouring

     Now the Passover and the Festival of Unleavened Bread were only two days away, and the chief priests and the teachers of the law were scheming to arrest Jesus secretly and kill him.  “But not during the festival,” they said, “or the people may riot.”

     While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head.

     Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, “Why this waste of perfume?  It could have been sold for more than a year’s wages and the money given to the poor.” And they rebuked her harshly.

     “Leave her alone,” said Jesus. “Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me.  The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me.  She did what she could. She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial.  Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.” (Mark 14:1-9)

She was just like any other young woman.  She longed for the day when she would meet Mr. Right and be swept off her feet into the romance of her life—a romance that was wilder and more passionate than anything she could ever imagine or hope for. 

She had painted the picture in her mind in great detail—spending years and years dreaming and imagining exactly what her wedding day would be like.  Saving herself for the very day when she would give all of her love and affection—all of her self—to the one she loved more than her very life.  On that day she would pour it all out on him, everything she had, with no holding back. 

That was until she met Jesus.  Meeting him had changed everything.  In him she had experienced a love greater and deeper than she could have ever imagined in her wildest dreams.  She loved him so much that she felt like her heart would explode within her if she didn’t find some way of expressing it. 

And so she goes to her room and opens her dowry; those things intended to be saved for her wedding day, to be given to her Beloved.  As she rummaged through the contents she came upon it, the most valuable thing she owned.  Giving it to him would be the only way she could even begin to express the depths of her love.  So she grabbed her jar of perfume and made her way to the feet of Jesus.  It was the perfect gift, the most beautiful and most valuable thing she owned. 

She brought it in the room, giving it freely and extravagantly to him.  She didn’t just pour a little out on him, but the whole thing.  She poured and poured, upon his head, without restraint.  She poured and poured until it was all gone; until the room was filled with the sweet fragrance of her love and affection.  It was a costly act to say the least, worth an entire year’s wages.  But in her mind and in her heart it was worth every bit of it.  

You have to wonder, as she emptied the contents of the jar on her Beloved, if somewhere deep within her heart and soul she uttered the ancient words, “I am my Beloved’s and his desire is for me.” (Song of Songs 7:10 ESV).

*This is from my book Reflections...available at amazon.com...haha, shameless promotion:)

palm sunday

As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it and said, “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes.  The days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side.  They will dash you to the ground, you and the children within your walls. They will not leave one stone on another, because you did not recognize the time of God’s coming to you.”

~ Luke 19:41-44

 What do you do with a God who weeps?  Especially one that weeps over you and me?  He weeps, longing for us to know...to know what would truly bring us peace...to know the enormity of His heart...to know the depths of His love...intimately...the same way Adam knew Eve in Genesis 4:1.  He weeps because he sees the reality of our inner (and outer) landscape.  He knows our hearts.  He knows our pain.  He knows our struggle.  He knows our doubts.  He knows all of our ways...our compulsions and our patterns and our beliefs.  He knows all about what we really think will make life work...what we truly believe will give us peace.  And peace is so much more than a feeling; it is us, His beautiful creation, experiencing life as he intended it to be...the creation intent of God.  He weeps because he sees where our misguided thoughts and beliefs and ways will eventually take us...what they will eventually cost us...where they will eventually leave us.  He weeps because he desires all of our affections.  He weeps because he constantly yearns for us to recognize His passion...for us.  He weeps because he longs for us to know that he is the God that constantly comes to us, that relentlessly pursues us...all the way to the cross. 

So as we enter Holy Week, may we join Jesus on his way to the cross.  May we fix our eyes on his weeping face.  May we come to know his abiding peace.  And may we recognize all of the times and all of the ways he comes to us, both this day and this week.

blessed are you...

“Blessed are you when people hate you and when they exclude you and revile you and spurn your name as evil, on account of the Son of Man!  Rejoice in that day, and leap for joy, for behold, your reward is great in heaven; for so their fathers did to the prophets. (Luke 6:22-23)

I don’t guess I’d really ever thought about it before.  I’m sure the word was in there, but for some reason or another it never caught my attention like it did this time.  I mean this passage is always a challenge to read, because it significantly upends and upsets so many of our typical ways of thinking, and being, and seeing—our most comfortable patterns of living and believing.  Maybe in the past I was too consumed by how far I seemed to be from any healthy sense of even wanting to be poor—or hungry, or weeping, or hated—to ever see this little word.  But there it was, right in verse 22…exclude.

I don’t guess I had ever really thought about the spiritual value of being excluded; probably because I was too busy working hard at making sure I never was.  But when you stop for a minute to really think about it, being excluded—just like being poor, hungry, weeping or hated—produces spiritual fruit within us that nothing else can quite produce, fruit that eventually makes us more like Jesus.  In fact, if you plant excluded in the soil of your soul, what is it most likely to produce?  Maybe the first thing to poke its head through the soil is a deep sense of humility.  There is something very humbling, even humiliating, about being excluded; something that lowers you, makes you smaller, takes you down into the dirt—which is exactly what the word actually means.  This humility then can lead us to a true dependence on God’s Spirit.  In a world where self-reliance and independence are encouraged, it can be easy to overlook the spiritual value of dependence.  To be dependent is to allow something else—something outside ourselves (God)—to be the main source of our value and worth; to give us our true sense of identity.  This dependence (on God rather than self, or others) can result in us being able to live our lives in a more detached way; a way of living that is not as affected by all of the voices and people and things in the world that tend to try and define us.  This detachment, in turn, leads to a true sense of freedom—freedom from needing people to define or determine us, freedom that allows a true lessening of the false self, in order to discover our truest self—our identity in Christ.  It is a freedom that makes space within us for God to work.  It is a freedom that ultimately allows us to really love others, rather than cling to them out of a demanding neediness.   Hmmm…so that’s humility, dependence, detachment, freedom, a lessening of self, and making space for God.  Sounds more and more like what Jesus had in mind.  As a matter of fact, it sounds more and more like Jesus himself.  So maybe, from now on, I need to not allow myself to get so out of sorts (sad, mad, frustrated, and feeling sorry for myself) when I feel excluded.  Because maybe, just maybe, excluded has a work to do in me.  Maybe excluded is something to embrace rather than something to run from or fight against.  Maybe excluded is something that will actually grow the very things within me that will make me more like Jesus himself.  Maybe that's why when Jesus uses the word exclude he also uses the words Blessed are you.  Who would’ve imagined…only God…Thanks be to Him!!!

Then he spoke:

“You're blessed when you've lost it all.  God's kingdom is there for the finding.
You're blessed when you're ravenously hungry.  Then you're ready for the Messianic meal.
You're blessed when the tears flow freely.  Joy comes with the morning."

     "Count yourself blessed every time someone cuts you down or throws you out, every time someone smears or blackens your name to discredit me. What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and that that person is uncomfortable. You can be glad when that happens—skip like a lamb, if you like!—for even though they don't like it, I do . . . and all heaven applauds. And know that you are in good company; my preachers and witnesses have always been treated like this.”

“But it's trouble ahead if you think you have it made.  What you have is all you'll ever get. And it's trouble ahead if you're satisfied with yourself.  Your self will not satisfy you for long.

And it's trouble ahead if you think life's all fun and games.  There's suffering to be met, and you're going to meet it.  There's trouble ahead when you live only for the approval of others, saying what flatters them, doing what indulges them. Popularity contests are not truth contests—look how many scoundrel preachers were approved by your ancestors! Your task is to be true, not popular.” (Luke 6:20-26 The Message)

writing

I'm not exactly sure why, but there is something about good writing that opens up a space deep within me and creates new life.  Something magical happens inside as I read the words of Robert Benson or Henri Nouwen or Frederick Buechner; it is as if the words strike a chord deep within me that I barely knew was there, a chord that can only be struck by a certain voice...or Word, or Spirit.  It is the strangest thing, somehow I know as soon as the words enter my mind and my heart that they are for me, spoken to me, somehow a part of me.  I know that it is a work of God's Spirit because only the Spirit knows that chord within me, only the Spirit speaks with that Voice within me, only the Spirit opens up that space deep within me and creates new life...that is simply what he does.  Thanks be to God.

So here is something that opened up a beautiful space in me this morning, and that still is stirring up new life.  Enjoy...

I love the plough that opens up the earth, lays bare the soil where seed can fall.  It matters little that the widening wound of earth still hesitates, uncertain of the nutrients it has to offer falling seed.  The seed is sown, the wound of earth closed up again.  The broken soil becomes a womb, a sheltering tomb of life protecting what must die to live.  We wait then for signs of life: the stem, the leaf, the bud, the fruit or vegetable to wend its way from dark to light.  The image of the plough opening the soil to welcome seed offers us a metaphor for the human heart.  The heart too must be prepared, readied to receive its daily seed.  No more looking back!

I love the Word of God that pierces the human heart, lays bare the soul where seed can fall.  The sower's passion invites the heart to receptivity.  The sower looks not back to see if the heart is worthy.  Sower and plough become one.  With contemplative awareness they trust the widening wound of the opening heart.  This laying bare the heart's good soil is a moment of readiness.  She or he who receives the seed of the Word of God receives also the silence of the Word and waits to be transformed.  No more looking back!

I love the disciple who allows the heart to be pierced.  Obedient to the piercing Word and broken heart, the disciple learns to wait, trusting the Word to die and live within the heart's good soil.  The disciple's heart becomes a sheltering womb and tomb for what must die to live.  I love the one who is transformed into a disciple by surrendering to the Word of God.  Rooted in obedience to the Word, there is no more looking back! (Abide by Macrina Wiederkehr)


P.S.  A great book!!!  I highly recommend it!!! 

the limp

The sun rose above him as he passed Peniel, and he was limping because of his hip. (Genesis 32:31)

     the limp

i walk with a limp

a true thing of beauty

that came about

when you took me to the ground

wrestling and struggling

when you tore me to pieces

that you might make me whole

thank you

for loving me

too much to allow me

to continue to live by a false name

to continue to be someone

other than the one

you created me to be

that you would care enough

to wound me

your beloved

that i might live truly

and become my truest self

makes this limp

a true thing of beauty

a living reminder

of your great affection

torn

“Come, let us return to the LORD.
He has torn us to pieces
but he will heal us;
he has injured us
but he will bind up our wounds.

After two days he will revive us;
on the third day he will restore us,
that we may live in his presence.
                         Hosea 6:1-2


Thank you, O Lord, that you would rather tear me to pieces than allow me to continue being something other than that which I was created to be.  Now that is true love!!!