coming soon

 Here's a little sample from a new book I've been working on called Fall in Love with Me: Love Letters from Jesus.  Hoping it will be out in the next month or so.

Listen

“I tell you the truth, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.”  Jesus said this to indicate the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God.  Then he said to him, “Follow me.” ~John 21:18-19

 

Reflect

My Beloved,

At times I am going to ask hard things of you, just as my Father asked hard things of me.  Don’t be surprised.  The test of your love will be in whether or not you are willing to be led to places you would rather not go.  Ultimately, Beloved, life with me is about stretching out your hands in trust and surrender.  It is a life of submission and abandonment to my will and my direction, rather than clinging to your own.  It is a life of following me wherever I lead, even if those places look hard, scary, and undesirable.  You must always remember, Beloved, that this life is not about you, but about me.  As you grow and mature, you will understand that more and more.

My deepest desire is that you reach the point where you love me so much that you are able to say, “Lord Jesus, I am willing to go wherever you want me to go and willing to do whatever you want me to do.  I’ll do anything for you.”  That’s what it looks like when you truly fall in love with me.

                                                                               Love,

                                                                                Jesus

 

Respond

Write a letter to Jesus, telling him all that is in your heart.

psalm 131

descend

detach

depend

it's the Jesus way 

do you want to get well

john 5:6

when the love of God

and our brokenness collide

beauty is born 

healing and redemption happen

restoration takes place

the love of God

has the power to

make us well

and whole and free

if we are willing

to let it

do you want to get well

lost and found

The fifteenth chapter of Luke could easily be entitled, Lost and Found.  Whether one hundred sheep or ten coins or two sons, in each case one is lost and is in need of finding.  And, as the dust settles on the chapter, we are left with one lost son standing before his father, but not the one we might imagine.  This lost son actually thinks he is found, which is the point of the whole chapter.  Jesus is talking with the Pharisees, making a point about who is lost and who is found.  And in this particular story the “lost” is found and the “found” is actually lost.  It is an interesting dynamic, to say the least. 

Which makes the moral of the story this: If you do not know you are lost, then you have no idea you are in need of being found.  Thus, a significant part of the spiritual journey involves a continual recognition of our lost-ness.  One of the biggest dangers for those of us who have once been found is to lose touch with the ways we are still lost—and they are many.  It is knowing our extreme need that makes us aware of the ridiculous magnificence of grace.  For even though we have been found, we all still get lost in our lives from time to time.  Thus, we are in need of being found over and over and over again.  It is a humbling place to be, but a really good place to be.  In fact, this place of dependence and need creates some of the most fertile soil for God to do his work in and through us.

The interesting part is that we are not told how this story ends.  I guess that’s because we have to write that part.  Will we go into the father’s house and join the celebration, or will we stay outside?  Will we be found, or will we remain lost?  The choice is up to us. 

return

you have scattered your

favors to foreign gods

under every spreading tree...

return, faithless people,

for i am your husband.

(jer. 3:13-14)

o my bride

my church

i am your God

your husband

your lover 

i made you for myself

that i might give myself to you

and you might give yourself to me

in a sacred romance

of union and intimacy

beyond your wildest dreams

but you have turned away

you have given

the most intimate

parts of yourself

to other lovers

you have given your

attention and affection

to foreign gods

who cannot love you

the way i do

i see you

giving yourself to them

under every green tree

thinking they have something

to offer you

that i do not

scattering your favors

among them

as if they were worth nothing

o my love

my bride

what shall i do with you

you have broken my heart

how i long to be

the focus of all your love

the object of

your deepest affections

how i long for you

to return to our bed

that i might show

my love to you once again.

but i will not share you

with another

i will not compete

for your love

you must leave

your other lovers

and return to me

return to me

my love

my bride

for i am

your one true love

—Seasons by Jim Branch

do you want to get well?

It was called the House of Mercy for a reason, for it was one of the most broken places in all the city.  There a great multitude of disabled people used to lie: the blind, the lame, the paralyzed.  And one man, in particular, had been there for thirty-eight years.  That’s a long time!  John does not tell us his name, but does tell us that the man was an invalid (astheneia), literally meaning one without strength.  Luckily for him, Jesus always shows up in the broken places—both then and now.

Jesus saw (eidō) him sitting there on his mat.  Oh, how long had it been since this man had been truly seen?  How long has it been since you have been truly seen?  Yet, Jesus saw into him, as he does into you.  He didn’t just see the brokenness of his body, but, more importantly, he saw the brokenness of his heart and soul.  And when he saw him and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, Jesus asked the man a question: “Do you want to get well?”  Or, literally, “Do you want to be whole?”  Which, on the surface, seems like a ridiculous question, but, in reality, is anything but that.  It is actually quite profound.  Not only profound then, but also profound now.  For all of us, like the strength-less man, are, deep within, resistant to change.  We have grown oddly comfortable in our brokenness, our dysfunction, and our sin.  So when Jesus asks us that question, he is really asking us: “Do you really want to get well?  I mean, really?”  He doesn’t ask this to shame us, but to awaken us to a quality of life and wholeness and freedom that he desires for us; one that life on the mat can never achieve.

“I have no one to help me,” replied the broken man, “whenever the water is stirred up someone else gets into the pool ahead of me.”  A telling answer to a profound question.  Luckily, Jesus was there to help.  He was there to make the broken whole again, even if the broken are resistant to the responsibilities of a changed, whole life.

“Get up! Pick up your mat and walk,” Jesus told the man.  “If you really want to be well, I can make you well.  But it will mean that you have to get up from where you are, pick up your mat, and walk.  If I make you well, you can’t simply return to life on the mat again.  You can’t simply return to your old ways of being and seeing; everything must change.  Life with me requires movement.  I want you to be healed and whole and free.  And immediately the man was healed; he picked up his mat, left his old ways, patterns, and dysfunctions behind, and started a whole new life. 

The bottom line in the spiritual life is that something must die within us, in order to make room for something beautiful to be born.  What is that for you?  What needs to die within you?  How do you need to get up?  What mat do you need to pick up?  What life do you need to leave behind?  And what beautiful thing does God want to do within you as a result?  God wants to do a work of healing, wholeness, freedom, and beauty within you, the only question is: “Do you want to get well?”

life from death

“Unless a kernel of wheat 

falls to the ground and dies, 

it remains only a single seed.  

But if it dies it produces 

many seeds.” (John 12:24) 

The main question 

that Lent tends to ask us 

is this: What needs to die 

in me during this season, 

in order for something 

beautiful to be born?