This is especially true in our American culture, I think.

And I’m not just talking about singing, for it’s most certainly not the only way to worship.

The problem, in my opinion, is this:

A lot of us have an extremely low view of God.

If this view of him can change, I believe everything will change. 

Everything.

Do you ever get like me and judge God?  Now, I’m not talking about asking questions to God.  He’s not so small that he can’t handle our questions.  But, do you ever judge him?  Do you ever find yourself asking (like me), “God- why don’t you do anything about things in this world?  How come people are dying from not having clean water?  What about AIDS?  What about Haiti?  The homeless?  Won’t you do anything?  You have the power for crying out loud!  You could make this all go away….if you really wanted to.”

If you are like me and ask those things, you probably also (like me) forget that it will be us standing before God one day, not the other way around, and he’ll ask us why we didn’t do anything about it, and that he gave us his Holy Spirit to have the power through him. 

Ouch.  That’s a painful perspective for me to get. 

It’s almost like I somehow create this image of God being created for me, when in reality it’s that I was made for him.  Do you get this way sometimes as well? 

Or how about the times that I resign to the fact that my issues (or the world’s) are too great for God to overcome.  Sure, I never vocalize it that way, but my life would indicate to others that it was what I believe.  That attitude bears a certain fruit, and it’s not one of hope. 

I’ve reduced him to a cross on a chain, a sticker on a car, a Bible never opened.  This must change.

I need to remember just how huge God is, and therefore place him where he rightfully belongs in my life – first.  I’m reminded of Psalm 33 today, verses 6-7. 

By the word of the Lord where the heavens made, their starry hosts by the breath of his mouth.  He gathers the waters of the sea into jars; he puts the deep into storehouses.

Our Father creates entire galaxies with merely his words.  Try to wrap your mind around that one for a bit. 

I’m also reminded of Ezekiel seeing God.  Look how he attempts to wrestle with the right human words to describe a holy God.  (Ezekiel 1:26-28)

Above the expanse over their heads was what looked like a throne of sapphire, and high above on the throne was a figure like that of a man.  I saw that from what appeared to be his waist up he looked like glowing metal, as if full of fire, and that from there down he looked like fire; and brilliant light surrounded him.  Like the appearance of a rainbow in the clouds on a rainy day, so was the radiance around him.  This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord.  When I saw it, I fell facedown, and I heard the voice of one speaking.

I love the section of the book of Job (starting in chapter 38) where God begins to remind Job of just how big he is.  God asks in verse 12 of that chapter:

 ”Have you ever given orders to the morning, or shown the dawn its place, that it might take the earth by the edges and shake the wicked out of it?” 

Simply amazing.  Could you imagine God asking you these questions?  What would you say?  What if you saw him like Ezekiel did?  What would you do? 

I think you and I would hit the ground like Ezekiel, hoping that we didn’t have a heart attack.  Questions would not matter at that moment, I can guarantee you. 

God is huge.  His glory is far beyond any words we could imagine saying.  He was not created for you and I.  We were created for him.  When we have this kind of view of God, I believe things start changing. 

Have you ever just stood in awe of God?  Ecclesiastes 5:1-2 says to…

Guard your steps when you go to the house of God.  Go near to listen rather than to offer the sacrifice of fools, who do not know that they do wrong.  Do not be quick with your mouth, do not be hasty in your heart to utter anything before God.  God is in heaven and you are on earth, so let your words be few.

Take a moment today to simply be quiet.  No prayers, apologies, vows, nothing.  Let your words be few and be silent before him.  He’s in heaven and we’re down here.  He’s magnificent and we’re his creation.  He values us over anything he’s made. 

Anything.

Think on these things.  Spend time today thinking of God in this way.  Sing to him in this way this weekend when you gather for corporate worship with your church or fellowship of believers.  Surrender your stresses, marriages, fear, pride to this God who is always able to overcome.  He’s not intimidated by our circumstances. 

Having a high view of God will change the way you and I worship.  I believe that with all that I have, which is nothing in comparison to him.

“Here I raise my ebenezer, hither by Thy help I’ve come…”

Today holds value in terms of markers in my life.  And I can honestly (and embarrasingly) say that it’s a rare day.

You see, I’m taking a risk today.  A pretty big one for me, at least.

And I am not good at taking risks.  Trust issues, I suppose.

Today I’m flying to Nashville to record a 6-song EP with Jeremy Casella.  I’ll be going nonstop from Thursday to Sunday.  I’m super excited and super afraid at the same time.  I believe this is what qualifies it as a real risk, right?

This is a time to remember where God has shown up before.

And He has a lot.

Today I’m resting in the truth of what God says about me, not what I think about myself in my insecurity.  I would greatly appreciate your prayers, specifically that I don’t talk myself out enjoying something that God has provided for in so many mind-blowing ways.

When was the last time you took a risk?

What became of it?

I love old cars.

The lines, the power, the heritage- all things I love about vintage automobiles.  You will often find me glued to the couch on Saturdays watching collector car auctions on television, where my excitement level increases with each bid.

I especially love the stories of cars that sat in barns for decades, only to be meticulously restored to better-than-original condition.  Sure, there’s the same model car that has rarely been driven, with only 18,000 miles or something.  One can appreciate the fact that someone knew that the car may have been worth something one day.  But, I would argue that the car was barely driven, and it spent a lifetime just sitting still.  And besides…

Restoration stories are so much better.

It’s not just the end result of the better-than-new car that appeals, it’s the story of how it got to that point.  Often times the person who restored the car will share on how, when the car was stripped down to the bare metal, major issues reared their ugly heads.  Multiple layers of paint and body filler do a pretty good job of creating something pleasant to look at on the outside, only to be decaying from within.  When those layers are peeled back, the truth of what needs restoration is revealed.

At this point of the post, insert my (and your) life here.

This season of participating in Christ’s death have peeled ripped back many layers in my life. Complacency and sitting still has caused the tires to rot and the battery to die.  Being exposed to the elements have brought about a thick, rusty layer of pride, degrading and decaying anything in its path.  The discovery (on this sort of level this season) has proven to be far from a gentle process.  I’m not sure why I was expecting anything different.  All I need to do is look at Christ.  Look what they did to him.  Why would I expect anything easy? Remember, there’s no story of redemption without depravity. If we have nothing to be restored to, why do you and I need restoration?

So restore away, God.  I don’t want to just sit.  Maybe that would mean less risk, but it would certainly mean less living.  Besides…

I can’t wait to tell others the story.

Every detail.  No omissions.

image: sam

I hope these posts have been encouraging to you, as I’ve tried my best to honestly share my experience participating in Christ’s death before celebrating his resurrection.  There is a bit more to say in terms of it, but for today, I’d like to keep it simple.  I came across this prayer, and I find it quite fitting these days.

Almighty God,
You know that we have no power in ourselves
to help ourselves:
Keep us both outwardly in our bodies
and inwardly in our souls,
that we may be defended from all adversities
which may happen to the body,
and from all evil thoughts
which may assault and hurt the soul;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Take that in.  Rinse & Repeat...

• Here’s to Death: Lent (part one)
• Here’s to Death: Lent (part two)
• Take Time to Stop: Lent (part three)
• Gaining Wisdom: Lent (part four)
• A Break in the Clouds: Lent (part five)
• Be Thawed & Rejoice: Lent (part six)

Ok, back to today…

You know, sometimes Friday’s quote doesn’t seem believable to me.  Sometimes there’s
only one deafening sound from God in times of great need, and it’s this:

Silence.

During this season of dying, which has felt really close to what I imagine the real thing feels like, I’ve had my share of the [seemingly] silent treatment from God.  Why doesn’t he speak up when I’m crying out?  Why can’t I seem to find him anywhere?

Is he testing me?  Is the silence a part of some sort of lesson?  Perhaps it’s to show me why faith is necessary.

I have a feeling that I’m just not paying attention.

Romans 1:20 says:

For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse.

You see, I really have no excuse for missing out on seeing his power displayed and his nature personified.  For one, He’s everywhere.  I’ve seen his power on display at the Grand Canyon and the ocean.  And I’ve seen glimpses of his nature in my wife’s patience with me(you have no idea), my co-worker’s compassion for those struggling, and Eliud, whom I’ve never even met.

Maybe I should lift my head up and take everything in.  Maybe I should pay closer attention to all of the reminders that are around me.  I feel like the image above conveys what he says to us…

Feel free to look around.  You’ll see me.

Where are you seeing God in your life right now?

image: Sam

Spring is upon us.

A new season.  A season of life bursting forth from the cold and dreary.

It’s often cold and dreary, isn’t it?

I write this while looking out my window in Arizona, where it is unusually cloudy and rainy.  We’ve had more rain this season than any in Arizona’s history, I believe.  Not that I’m complaining.  It will be 110° before we know it.  But for now, the environment around me is a reminder that my life has been fairly cold and dreary, especially during this season of Lent.  Perhaps I’m learning more about what it means to die to things.  Perhaps I’m just finally paying attention and listening.

I’m still not sure.

But, I am sure of one thing.  Spring is upon us.  Life is bursting forth.

My life.

Your life.

You know, a heart frozen by bitterness, cynicism and fear is a dangerous thing.  Wounds run deep, causing it to barricade itself for protection.  It thinks that by staying closed off and hardened, no one will be affected.  Instead, it lashes out in anger, tries to change appearances for acceptance or wishes for more punishment.  “Maybe if I just suffered more,” it says, “I could finally move on.”

My heart has been frozen in areas, but these areas are dying.  In their place grows a new hope.  A hope of more compassion, more humility, more Christ.  Spring has come, but some things are still frozen.  As the ice starts to melt it cracks, sending pain jolting throughout the area frozen.  This has proven to be quite unbearable at times.

The thawing of a deep freeze is nothing minor.  This takes time.  A season’s time.  It’s going to be painful.  There is no story of redemption without depravity.  But, he’s right there with me.  Through the pain.  Through me wrestling with change.

I’ve heard his whispers slowly increase in volume during this season, and now, as the season begins to change, I hear him saying…

Be thawed, and rejoice!

image: Sam

Today’s a different kind of day.

For one, it’s a new day.  It’s only by grace that I’m even alive to write this, so let me go ahead and acknowledge that right off the bat.

If you’ve followed these Lent posts thus far (I thought about renaming them to ‘Tortured Soul: the series”), I hope that you’ve not gone away from them depressed.  My hope is that you’ve been encouraged and challenged, and perhaps given a new outlook on what it means to participate in the Lenton season. Hang in there.  I don’t want to spoil it all for you, but the end result is….

**SPOILER ALERT**

He is risen.

Yes, He is risen indeed.  Obviously we’ll talk about this next month, but I am reminded of it today.  He is risen today.  Sure, we’ll celebrate it in a magnificent way on Easter Sunday, but for me, focusing on his resurrection today gives me hope.  I was reading Romans 5 yesterday, and I was comforted by these words:

Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.  Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.              - Romans 5:1-5 [NIV]

Hope never disappoints.  Sure, I’ve been struggling the last few weeks.  I hit a low point last weekend (see Monday’s post).  But, God does not leave me there alone.

He hasn’t left you alone either.  So, rejoice with me, wherever you’re at.  Regardless of your circumstances.  Regardless of your struggles.  Remember…

He is good, and today is a new day.

As I’ve asked previously, what are you learning during this season of Lent?  How can I pray for you specifically?

image: sam

I’m learning a lot during this season, both about God and myself.  For that I’m extremely grateful.

And I’m also quite sore, frankly.  It’s been hard to keep posting these Lent posts, but I’m trying to provide an authentic narrative of my experience in participation of Christ’s death.  This has proven to be a trying time.  But, I’m confident that by sharing in our sufferings we can encourage one another.

As I mentioned a while back, when God peels away the layers that cloud our vision of him it’s painful.   These layers run deep in my life, and specifically, I think God is peeling away one in particular:  appearance.

I simply care about what others think.

I have insecurities just like everyone else.  I often struggle with the thought that I’m never taken seriously, mainly because I’m requested to say something funny by others, forcing me (in my mind) to go into performance-mode.  But, my go-to compensatory move when insecure is to always bring humor to the situation.  So, this plays right into an already bad hand.  I am quick-witted and sarcastic.  I used to think this was possibly a spiritual gift…turns out it’s not.  Any time I’m out and go into this mode, whether for the entertainment of others or insecure compensation, I return home depressed.  It’s a vicious cycle that runs me into the ground mentally and emotionally.

But why am I such a slave to this?  Why do I care so much about what others think of me?  I know that my identity is in Christ and not other people.

Or do I?

I am petitioning to God that he would reveal this issue in my life completely.  That he would help me overcome the performance.  Besides, it’s not a performance he’s after from me — it’s relationship.  This is a core issue for me, and I am grateful that he’s showing me that.  Again, when the layers are pulled back it’s painful.  But, what I hope comes from this will be cause for celebration.  I’m trying to start doing that now.

For I know Sunday’s coming.

What are you learning about God and yourself during this season?  How can I pray for you?

image: sam

It was one of those weeks last week.

You know, I find stress to be a real downer, and lately I’ve had my fair share of it.   Whether it’s work stress or personal issues, life has made it hard to follow through with my resolutions this year.  Ministry is hard a lot of times.  There have been many days lately where I feel like I have nothing left when I get home.  Nothing for my wife.  Nothing for any friends.

Nothing.

Musically-speaking, I often find comfort in the words of the Robbie Seay Band. I’ve been listening to them for years now, and their stuff keeps getting better and better.  Check out their site for some information on a new album/tour.

This particular song has always been a go-to when I’m feeling down.  It’s the title track of one of their earlier albums, Better Days.  I think the lyrics are worth a look…

Better Days by Robbie Seay

vs-1: First of all, thanks for listening to our song;
we hope this finds you driving in your car
or wherever you are, breathe out and breathe again;
and know that life is hard but it’s worth the breathing
oh listen to me now, the love of loves is waiting for you just to say…

chorus: here come better days, here come better days
better days in a better place i know

vs-2: secondly, i’m all messed up so royally
and i stumbled my way here, but wait oh wait
grace has found me and shaken up my soul
and grace will follow wherever you go
listen to me now, the grace of grace is calling for you just to say….

bridge:  green grass and I am laying in the sunlight of You
and the wind is moving through the trees, ushing You
and the better days You bring; the better places found
feasting at Your table I am overwhelmed
I lift my glass, drink to love that never gave up
clouds pass, fading into memories gone
and all I have to show for life is life and love and peace
what else could there be?

Grace.  How quickly I forget about it.

See, the truth is that I’m a mess.  I always have been.  Whenever life’s problems come my way, I am often paralyzed by fear and a ‘whoa is me’ attitude.  These are a few of the things in my life that need to die.

But the good news is that grace found me somewhere along the way and has followed me from place to place. I don’t deserve it, but that’s why it’s called grace, after all.

God loves us, and he calls us by names that you or I could never call ourselves.  Names like righteous and saints.  And he loves us without requirements.  Scripture says that we should only worry about today, for tomorrow brings enough trouble of its own. So, what are we to do when it feels like three months of tomorrows show up at once? I think the answer is to listen to the grace of grace calling us, just to say….

It’s worth the breathing.

image: sam

My wife and I were talking yesterday about Lent after part one of my toast to death.  She asked a common question:

So, what are you giving up for Lent?

I’ve been asked that question for as long as I’ve known about Lent.  But, I don’t think that I’ve thought about it in such a way as I have this particular season.  As I said yesterday, things just don’t need to be given up.

Things in us need to die.

I long thought of Lent in the past as a progress report of sorts for the first quarter of the year, charting out one’s progress of their New Year’s resolutions.   You know, sort of a “how are you doing so far?” kind of deal.  Are you still working out a month later?  Are you eating better?  Sure, it led to Easter, which provided more clarity.  But, I think I heard more about what people were sacrificing than of Jesus’ death and resurrection.

But, the season of Lent is about death, and ultimately new life.  You see, we cannot raise things from the dead.  Only God can.  But, as long as we just put off certain behaviors and tendencies we can revive them at a later date.  These things need to die, and that can only happen if we ourselves die to them.  And, when we do that it hurts.  The layers go deep, and when they’re peeled away it’s devastating.  It kills us.  But, God raises dead things.  With the same power that raised Jesus on the third day, we are raised again into a new life with him.  Sure, it’s not free from temptation or trials.

But, a free life it is.