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.