Tag Archives: Life

“Imitate Me”

 Therefore I urge you to imitate me.
1 Corinthians 4:16 (NIV)

The past few weeks Wendy and I have been getting videos of our grandson, Milo, that Taylor has been sending from their home in Scotland. Milo is almost a year old and the videos reveal that young Milo has hit the stage of development in which he “imitates” what his parents do. When we had a FaceTime conversation a week or so ago I had some fun making up distinct little laugh noises and coughs and then was overjoyed to watch and listen as Milo smiled and tried to imitate them. It was a fun game, and it warmed my heart.

In today’s chapter Paul makes a very simple and direct request of the believers in Corinth: “Imitate me.” Not just a game of mimicking voice or gesture, Paul was inviting his friends in Corinth to imitate his way of life, his actions, his words, his hard work, his way of treating others.

It’s such a simple command, and yet it is such a bold statement. In the quiet this morning I have been trying to imagine telling a fledgling believer to imitate me. Yes, okay, I have developed some good habits and disciplines in life, but I can also immediately bring to mind things I wouldn’t want anyone imitating. I confess to having an overdeveloped sense of shame, but I’m still intimidated by the thought of telling someone, “Just watch me and do what I do.”

As I meditate on it, I’ve come to think that perhaps this is actually a good exercise. I picture myself telling a young person “Imitate me.” What would I be afraid of them seeing, hearing and repeating? What thoughts, words, actions, and habits would have me quickly adding an addendum and making caveats to the imitation command? “Well, wait a minute. Don’t imitate that part. If you catch me doing this, just ignore me, please. Only imitate what you saw me doing earlier when everyone was looking.” It seems a pretty good methodology for revealing those areas of my life where I still have significant growth and improvement potential.

The kids and Milo are coming home in a few days. Milo will be with us through the holidays. This morning I’m reminded that children watch their parents and their grandparents. They listen. They observe. They take it all in. Then they imitate. Not just the silly FaceTime game of mocking a laugh or a cough. Our children and grandchildren observe and imitate our very lives.

My desire is for my life to be a good example to imitate.

Work, Retirement, and “Enjoying Life”

Now we ask you and urge you in the Lord Jesus to do this more and more.
1 Thessalonians 4:1b (NIV)

Wendy and I have been recently discussing an article we read in the Wall Street Journal about a woman who zealously maintained a routine of intense frugality in order to meet her goal of saving enough money to retire at the age of 40. She lived alone in a 400 square-foot apartment, spent only $75 a month on food, and asked to borrow her friends Netflix passwords. I was not surprised when the article generated a host of letters to the Editor.

As Wendy and I discussed the article our conversation centered on the relationship between our western view of “retirement” and the concept of “living.” We are taught in our culture that we “work” our entire lives in order to get to a point in life when we no longer work, and can now “enjoy life.”  The further I get in my journey, the more I’ve observed that some individuals approach this view with an “either, or” mindset and end up making two false assumptions. One is the belief that you can’t or won’t really “enjoy life” as you work hard, establish a career, raise a family, experience the peaks and valleys of mid-life, and so on. The second false assumption is that “enjoying life” is equal to or dependent on “not working.”

As I journey through God’s Message over and over again I’ve discovered that it’s worthwhile to pay attention when things get repeated. In today’s chapter, Paul “urges” his friends and fellow believers to do something “more and more.” The first is to live in a way that pleases God. The second is to love each other. According to Jesus’ law of love the latter is the requisite way we achieve the former.

In the quiet this morning I find my heart and mind meditating on two, no let’s make that three, thoughts. The first is that, with regard to my faith, I find myself growing deeper, pushing further, and expanding more than I have my entire life journey. Rather than a feeling of contentment with the knowledge I’ve gained and the maturity I’ve developed, I am motivated with how little of the mystery I know, what incredible depth of wisdom I have yet to fathom, and how far it is I yet have to go in my spiritual journey. I can already see that there is no “retirement” in this Spirit journey (nor would I want there to be).

The second thing I’m mulling over is just how much Life I have experienced and enjoyed in each step of this journey, and how much I continue to do so. Like anyone I enjoy the occasional opportunity to add a unique, once-in-a-lifetime experience to my “bucket list.” But chasing after adrenaline rushes endlessly is not “really living” for me. Really living is a daily routine of morning coffee, reading the news, and discussing the world with Wendy. Really living is receiving a phone call from our daughters, wherever they happen to be on the planet. Really living is FaceTime with my grandson. Really living is finding a small way to serve someone else and receiving the gift of his or her gratitude. Really living is a great meal and intimate conversation with dear friends with whom we are sharing this life journey. Really living is sliding into bed on a cold night and letting Wendy’s hot flash warm me up. I “enjoy life” every…single…day.

The third thing, then, is the concept of “retirement.” Paul writes in today’s chapter to be ambitious to lead a quiet life and “work with your hands.” I’ve been studying the life of Paul of late and have discovered that scholars agree most of his time was not spent teaching in synagogues and/or running a ministry. Most of Paul’s time was spent making tents. It was his family trade and he did it industriously, wherever he went, so that he would “not be dependent on anyone” just as he instructed the Thessalonians believers. It reminds me of Wendy’s 92 year-old grandmother who has been busy knitting scarves to be given to people who need them. While “retirement” may mean I get to cease working the same job that I’ve done for many years, I certainly don’t believe that my work is done.

Thanks for reading, my friend. May you be inspired to search deeper, reach further, and expand in Spirit. May you work at what you are purposed to do. May you recognize moments to “enjoy life” today.

Destined for Tough Terrain

We sent Timothy,who is our brother and co-worker in God’s service in spreading the gospel of Christ, to strengthen and encourage you in your faith, so that no one would be unsettled by these trials. For you know quite well that we are destined for them.
1 Thessalonians 3:2-3 (NIV)

This past week was a bit of a whirlwind for Wendy and me. It began with the unexpected death of a friend. She and her husband had been in a small group with us during a particularly turbulent time of our lives, and her death rocked our world a bit. The morning of the funeral we received news that another friend had suffered a heart attack in the night and had been flown to Des Moines for a hastily performed cardiac procedure.

We visited our friend in the hospital and were encouraged to find him alive and well. In fact, if it weren’t for the fact that we knew he’d just been through a life-threatening trauma earlier that day, I’d have told you everything was perfectly normal.

As we spoke with our friend and his wife there in the CCU she shared about their life journey and the fact that the two of them had just entered a particularly enjoyable stretch. Retirement, time together, and the opportunity to enjoy large parts of each day in conversation and shared activity had been brining them both tremendous joy. She told us of her emotions and prayers the previous night as she faced the potential reality that it might be coming to a tragic end.

I thought about these two experiences, with two very different outcomes, as I read today’s chapter in Paul’s letter to believers in Thessalonica. Paul fled the city when his life was threatened. He knew that the fledgling believers he left behind continued to face opposition and persecution. Paul was worried about them, which was why he sent his protege, Timothy, to check on them, and why he was writing them this letter after Timothy’s return and report. Addressing the trials they were facing, Paul states quite bluntly: “You know quite well we are destined for them.”

Along my faith journey I’ve observed many who seem to have approached their life and/or faith journey with the expectation that it should always be a cake walk. In the quiet this morning I’m pondering the various reasons we might come to that conclusion. Is it somehow that the “prosperity gospel” that falsely teaches God wants us all to be “healthy, wealthy, and wise” has permeated our culture more than we care to admit? Is it somehow, for those of us living in America, some kind of bleeding over of the American Dream into our faith? Why is it that I am shocked and feel somehow cheated when life’s road unexpectedly becomes rough terrain?

My journey through God’s Message has taught me that I should expect rough terrain on life’s road. All of the early father’s of the faith said so. Here’s just a small sample of reminders:

Jesus:
“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (Mt 10:16)

Paul:
We glory in our sufferings.” (Rom 3:5)

James:
Consider it pure joy when you encounter various trials….” (Jam 1:2)

Peter:
“…rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials.” (1 Pet 1:6)

I find myself looking back this morning at Wendy’s and my journey over the past 13 years. Like our friend we visited in the hospital we’ve recently been experiencing a sense that we’re coming out of a valley and into a stretch of smoother terrain. It’s a good feeling, and we’re enjoying the lift. Nevertheless, this past week has been a reminder that I can never know what’s waiting for us up ahead.

As I start this week I’m reminded that with each warning of trouble, suffering, trials, and grief, Jesus and the early followers connected the inevitable hard stretches of life’s journey to heart, overcoming, glory, joy, and rejoicing. This journey will include both good times and unexpected bad times. It’s a natural part of the journey. Paul told the Thessalonians believers “we’re destined for them.” I shouldn’t be thrown for a loop when they happen as though I hadn’t been warned that they will come, or like I hadn’t observed that everyone I know experiences tough stretches along the way. There’s always purpose in the pain.

It’s the trials and the overcoming that make our favorite stories “epic.”

Have a great week my friend.

Sharing the Burden, Carrying the Weight

Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.
Galatians 6:2

…for each one should carry their own load.
Galatians 6:5

Last week I had a CrossFit workout done with a partner. There were four weight lifting exercises with 25, 35, 45 and 55 reps, respectively. These were shared. My partner and I chose to alternate doing five reps each, back and forth, until they were completed. Between each weightlifting exercise we both had do 12 “over the bar burpees” together, at the same time. Each of us was responsible to do all 12 reps, even though we did them together.

In today’s chapter, I noticed what seemed to be a contradiction in Paul’s instructions to the followers of Jesus in Galatia. First he tells them to “carry each others burdens,” but then a few sentences later he tells them that each person should “carry their own load.” So, which is it? Carry each other’s burdens or carry your own load?

Yes, and.

As I dug into the original Greek words Paul used when he wrote the letter, I found that he used two very different words for “burden” and “load.” When talking about carrying each other’s burden he used a form of the Greek word “baros” which literally means a weight. He’s just finished stating that if a brother or sister is caught in a sin we should “restore them gently.” The picture here is that we all have our own shortcomings. Everyone, even the best of us, will blow it from time to time because we’re human and we all have our faults.

This is a partner workout. When you’re struggling I’m going to be there to help you carry the weight. And you do the same for me when I’m struggling. We alternate and share the reps so that we can mutually encourage one another and allow for mutual “restoration” back and forth.

A few sentences later Paul uses the word “phortion” (for-tee-on) when he says one should carry their own “load.” This specifically means a burden that is not transferrable. It can’t be shared.

Which brings me back to the workout last week. The weightlifting exercises was “baros.” It was a shared burden as we alternated. One of us carried the weight as the other rested and was restored. Back and forth. The Burpees, on the other hand, were “phortion” and each of us was responsible to do all twelve reps. The Burpees were our own load to carry, and we couldn’t transfer the reps to our partner. (Though there was mutual encouragement as we did them together, in unison. We weren’t alone as carried our personal Burpee burden, which is a completely different spiritual lesson.)

Along this life journey I’ve found that I have different kinds of burdens to carry as I make my way along the path. Sometimes burdens are mutual and I share them with my partners and companions. Other times I have a load that is mine alone to carry and no one else can carry it for me. In the quiet this morning I’m pondering some of life’s burdens. Once again, I find myself asking three familiar questions that provide important definition to life:

What’s mine?
What’s yours?
What’s ours?

Freedom, Indulgence, Hard Knocks, and Wisdom

You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love. For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”
Galatians 5:13-14 (NIV)

Among most of Wendy’s and my circle of close friends we happen to be the furthest down the path of life experience. As we enjoy being grandparents for the first time and watch our adult children embarking on their own adult journeys, most of our friends are somewhere between the stages of young children taxi service and sending children off to college for the first time. Just yesterday I was speaking with my friend who is experiencing the latter.

For young people who have lived in a secure home with engaged parents, going off to college is the first opportunity to experience real freedom. No one is looking over your shoulder. No one is reminding you of what you need to do. Plus, opportunities to experience the appetites of life in all their excesses tend to present themselves in abundance.

For many of us, the years of college and young adulthood are when we learn some crucial lessons on life’s road. Chief among them is answering the simple question: “What am I going to do with my freedom?” 

I don’t know a single individual who didn’t, at some point, use freedom to engage and indulge unhealthy appetites in one way or another during these years. Perhaps there are a few true saints out there. Most parents I know, however, like to conveniently white-wash their own young adult excesses as they place all sorts of appetite controls and lofty expectations on their children.

Along the journey I’ve come to the conclusion that each one of us must learn the hard lessons of how we’re going to use our freedom. It’s part of the journey. We all need to have our own wake-up moments like the Prodigal Son finding himself up to his knees in pig slop. We all need our personally induced wake-up calls when we find ourselves saying: “My own choices led me to this awful place. I think I need to make some changes.”

In today’s chapter of his letter to the believers of Galatia, Paul is addressing this same principle. Legalism is great for creating compulsory obedience to a defined set of rules, but it does nothing for helping us learn the crucial, spiritual maturity lessons of appetite control. It’s no coincidence that Paul’s list of behaviors that mark spiritual maturity include “self-control.”

This morning I find myself praying for our own adult children and our grandchild. The truth I’ve discovered is that the lessons of managing our appetites and developing mature self-control are ongoing throughout our life journeys. So, I’m praying for them in their own respective waypoints on this life journey.

I’m also saying prayers for our friends who are in the stages of raising willful children, teenagers testing their boundaries, and young adults experiencing freedom for the first time. I’m praying wisdom for all those parental decisions about rules, consequences, clamping down, and letting go. I’m also praying for the grace and wisdom of the Prodigal’s father, who knew that his Prodigal had to learn his own crucial lessons and experience the awful places we find ourselves when we use our freedom to indulge our appetites. The father didn’t track his son down. He didn’t send a rescue party. He didn’t deny his son life’s required coursework from the school of hard-knocks. The father sat patiently on the front-porch, said his prayers, kept his eye on the road out front, and waited for a much wiser son to come home.

The Boulevard and the Gate

So you are no longer a slave, but God’s child; and since you are his child, God has made you also an heir.
Galatians 4:7 (NIV)

In the early stages of my spiritual journey I wandered down the path of legalism. I was never particularly comfortable with it’s straight-and-narrow streets and the authoritarian, self-appointed traffic cops on every block wearing their spit-polished Junior Holy Spirit badges. Nevertheless, I came to an understanding of why so many people find their way to that huge boulevard.

There’s a certain ease to the path of legalism. It requires little in the way of thought, meditation, grace, wisdom, or knowledge. Everything is prescribed for you in black-and-white terms and simple rules of obedience. There’s strict accountability to keep you on the straight-and-narrow. Your fellow wayfarers will, of course, watch you like a hawk, but then there are the self-appointed traffic cops to watch your every move, remind you of the rules, and threaten you with any number of heinous punishments (i.e. alienation, condemnation, damnation) should you stray from their prescribed path.

Along that stretch of the journey I met a number of individuals who had been walking the path of legalism for many years. They had given themselves over. So comfortable had they become with their enslavement to the rules that the simplest notion of grace or freedom became a fright. They reminded me of the Hebrews in the wilderness begging to return to slavery in Egypt. “At least we knew the rules. Life was so much easier to understand. It wasn’t so hard or so complicated.”

In Paul’s letter to the believers in Galatia, he finds them in a similar spot. Having received the Message of Jesus by faith when Paul was with them, they are now being told by some self-appointed traffic cops from the path of Legalism to get themselves back on the straight-and-narrow. These Officers of Legalism are demanding obedience to their list of religious rules.

In his letter Paul calls on a powerful word picture. He argues that Jesus came to make us children of God and co-heirs with Christ. We are, therefore, no longer slaves to be herded down the path of legalism constantly threatened with alienation, condemnation and damnation should we fail to march lock-step in accordance with the self-appointed traffic cops.

Paul argues that we are free to walk down a very different path as heirs of grace freely given, of forgiveness poured out in excess, of extravagant acceptance, and of unalterable love. Why, Paul asks, would you ever want to go back to Legalism Boulevard?

Along my journey I’ve observed that some people find the path of legalism to be easier than the path of love. Having walked that Legalism Boulevard for a block or two, a piece of me gets why people spend their entire lives on its pristine concrete between its high curbs. I found obedience to a set of well defined rules less painful than dying to myself. I found that condemning rule breakers was easier (and even felt self-righteously satisfying) than forgiving them as I have been forgiven. And, I found that following the straight-and-narrow of Legalism Boulevard was guaranteed not to twist, turn, or lead me to uncomfortable neighborhoods where people look different than me, act different than me, think differently than me, or speak differently than me. There’s a comfort in that.

In the quiet this morning I’m reminded that Jesus said that the path of Life lies behind a narrow gate that’s not particularly well-marked. It’s narrow and not necessarily easy to make out because, like Frost’s poem, it’s less traveled than Legalism Boulevard. But those who ask directions will find their way there. Those who seek it out will find their way there. Those who knock on the narrow gate will find it open to them.

I’ve found it a messy and slippery path with some steep inclines and deep valleys. There have been lonely stretches where faith was required. There were some stretches I shared with companions that required humility, trust, forgiveness, teamwork, and grace to get through some of the terrain. I’ve also found myself in some foreign places that forced me to get past my fears. It hasn’t always been easy, but the further I travel on the path the more Life I’ve experienced.

I’ve never regretted leaving Legalism Boulevard. In fact, I’d encourage anyone who’s walking lock-step down that street to make their way down the alley. Ask about a narrow gate. Seek it out. You’ll be glad you did.

Just don’t let the Traffic Cops see you 😉

Weathering the Storm

 But now I urge you to keep up your courage, because not one of you will be lost; only the ship will be destroyed.
Acts 27:22 (NIV)

Living in the midwest you soon learn that some rather nasty storms can pop up at a moment’s notice. This past summer Wendy and I were witness to a small handful of storms that did considerable damage. It’s always disconcerting to survey the aftermath and find one house almost completely obliterated while the house next door appears to have no damage at all.

I thought of those storm and the damage we witnessed as I read today’s chapter. Paul is in the custody of a Roman centurion making his way to Rome where he is to be tried in Caesar’s court. A terrible storm comes up threatening the lives of everyone on board the ship. Throughout the ordeal, Paul continues to assure the passengers that they will be okay. He urges them to keep up their courage and their physical health. Paul had received an angelic message assuring him that God’s purpose was that Paul stand before the Emperor, not die at sea.

I couldn’t help but contrast the experiences of Paul with another famous sea-faring voyager, Jonah. In Jonah’s case, he was on the run and trying to escape his destiny. His reactions and responses amidst the storm are a stark contrast to Paul.

This morning in the quiet I’m reminded of Jesus’ words: “[Your Heavenly Father] sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.” In other words, I can’t escape the storms of life. They will crop up when I least expect them and everyone has to weather them from time to time. The difference between Paul and Jonah, was in their purposes. Paul was sailing with purpose. He was on a mission, and he was confident that the storm was not going to alter his date with destiny. Jonah, on the other hand, was running away from God’s expressed purpose for him.

I can’t stop the storms of life from raging, but the purpose with which I’m walking this Life Journey can make all the difference in how I weather them.