Holy pretentious paint, batman!

We've been doing some serious painting.

This week our entire main floor has looked, felt, and smelt like the Gaza strip. We're freshening up the kitchen, living room, dining area, and entrance (which flows up the stairs into everything but the bedrooms and one bathroom). It's a pretty major project.

First, yank everything off the walls & grunt the furniture across the floor and mound it into a tarped ziggurat in the middle of the room. Next, slop and spackle all the dings, chips, and grooves the heroic walls have endured over the past decade or so. Sand 'em up. Wipe 'em down. And then let the paint fly. The thicker the better. One coat. Two. Some places three, where the touch-ups still show through.

We're getting a guy to do all this for us, mind you. But it feels like a big project. A major overhaul, a significant facelift. It's like botox for my living room. It's gonna look great.

And God pokes me with the scene in the picture. Something in my gut registers the poke: There is something to be learned here. "Don't settle for a mere paint job," or something like that. Don't whitewash a tomb. Clean the inside of the cup.

What, Lord? What am I trying to cover with a fresh coat of paint when more serious work may be required? Like replacing the drywall, finding mould, and ripping out a stud or two to begin fresh?

It's this training thing, isn't it, God? Discipleship. The Great Omission. You keep hammering at this. I must not settle for a new coat of paint. My basic assumptions need an overhaul. I need to see this differently. Open my eyes, Lord Jesus.

Okay, that's my thing. But is God speaking to you about the paint image? Through the photograph, maybe? Take a moment to listen. What's God saying?

Jericho, a case in point

Praise God, Shine FM, our local Christian radio station, has agreed to give away a few of my books on air and promote them with the giveaway! YESSS! Thank you, Lord.

Or rather, praise you Lord.

I believe this is his project. I've been given the privilege of working alongside of him, partnering with him as he shares the message of the kingdom with people through the book. He hasn't done this for me, he's done this for him. And for the people who need the message I've written about. I haven't asked him to bless my little writing project; he's invited me into his, and so I praise him for advancing the message through the radio station.

The thanks come in because he's allowed me to cooperate with him on this. Cooperation is the point. God invites us to join him, to co-labor with him in this dark world. The point isn't how much you pray, or fast, or share your faith, or serve, or speak in tongues, or prophesy, or whether you've bound this spirit or that spirit, or anything else.

The point is that God invites us to join him. We must respond. Sometimes that becomes a prayer. Other times, a seed planted. Or a hug. Or a pie for the neighbors. We get so locked into the spiritual hoopla, the measuring sticks. God's just looking for humble partners.

Today I met with some people asking me to join in something God has asked them to do. An evangelism tool that's working well in some places. At one point in the free lunch the guy asked me, "Are you willing to get your church to march around the borders of your community in a prayer walk?" It's a reference to the Jericho thing from the Old Testament.

"See, that only happened once in the Bible and never happened again," I replied. "I'll lead my people to do what God wants us to do in concert with him." Period. Nothing more, nothing less.

See how things become religious, expected, dead? The only reason Jericho worked and the walls came down is that they obeyed God, partnered with him in a unique circumstance. Yesterday's faith becomes tomorrow's religion the moment we try to repeat it.

Prayer Journaling, Part 1

See?

John Chapter 9 comes right before John Chapter 10. I'm serious.

John Chapter 10 is the shepherd and sheep chapter, the New Testament centerpiece on the voice of God. Chapter 9 is the story of the man born blind and the pharisees who had become blinded by their religion. "If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin. But now that you claim you can see, your guilt remains."

So when Jesus says just a few verses later that when the Shepherd speaks, "his sheep follow him because they know his voice," (10:4), he's connecting the two chapters. How do I know that?

Well, the word "know" is a Greek word literally translated "see." His sheep SEE his voice. His voice is often visual. A sunset, a scene in a movie, a transcendent moment unfolding before us, a picture in our minds.

Imagery in the Bible — word pictures, metaphors, stories — are designed to evoke something, to take us somewhere, to paint truths on the shimmering canvas of our minds. Try it sometime. Read John 15 and stop to imagine what Jesus is saying about the Vine and the branches. I mean, really sit in that image for a few minutes. As it takes shape in your imagination, ask God to speak to you about it. Or read Revelation 1, where Jesus appears to John on the island of Patmos, then stop and visualize the scene. Sub John out and put yourself in his place.

Sometimes God will take our imagination and breathe his inspiration into the scene. Happens to me often.

Annie Blogs

So, a friend of mine, a sister, really, blogged about my book, Finding Home, today. (Wow, that sentence had a truckload of commas).

Her name is Annie, and you really should read her blog. Not just because she's reviewing my book today. Because she's worth the price of admission almost every day. FU-NEEE. A walking hoot. And she loves Jesus and a lot of other people read her blog, too.

You can read her post on my book HERE.

BTW, the Pastors and Spouses Retreat is going really well. We all died and went to heaven yesterday evening (read my last post). I heard a lot of sniffling and sighing, which I took to be a good sign, all things considered.

Prayer, Pastors, and Dying

Hey, please pray for me and our pastoral staff today. We're hosting a Province wide Pastors and Spouses Retreat in Canmore, Alberta this Sunday through Tuesday noon. We're totally blessed to be in a position where we can build a little encouragement into the lives of these men and women of God who influence so many. I'm especially blessed that this year, our church is not in a position of dire need, but actually a God-given strength that we can pass on to others. Thank you, Jesus.

The prayer comes into play because we can only offer our loaves and fish. Jesus must be the one to do the miracle. It's also crucial because we're coming off a busy week and we're tired already. I know God will give us strength, but Sunday afternoons I usually crash and today I can't get that. I'm gearing up instead, wanting to be a vessel for God to move through. I'll need to crash later this week, when I don't really have time for it. Again, I need to trust Jesus with that.

Something else to pray about, if you get this in time: Today I'm going to lead all the Pastor's and Spouses in dying practice.

You heard right. Dying practice. I got the idea from Mario Bergner, who's mother came to faith late in life. On her deathbed (final weeks of life) she found herself afraid of death and dying. Mario realized it was because her heart hadn't been filled up with the imagery of heaven. So he collected a bunch of scriptures that spoke of dying and going to heaven, and he and his mom practiced dying. Her heart found the peace she was looking for.

But why wait until our deathbeds? Why not fill our souls with the beauty of the Beyond now, so it can charge our living with a heavenly joy and focus? So that's what I'm doing with the pastors. Beginning the retreat with dying practice. We're going to heaven and back before we do anything else.

BTW, if you're interested, I can email you the "Dying Practice" document. You'll love it.

Parallels

The other night after a Leadership Team Meeting, I was ripping home late in my Toyota Echo, praying through my fatigue and eating a pumpkin scone without any water to wash it down with. Delicious... and without water, a tad bit dry.

Well, I was about a third of the way home when the whole gooey mess got stuck somewhere down my esophagus, too far down to choke on, but too far down to deal with. And I mean STUCK. As my last few bites slid down the tube, adding to the jam, the pressure began to build. And then the pain. And panic. And nausea. And more pain.

This has happened before. Something to do with a digestive problem that damages the upper part of my esophagus so that parastalsis doesn't work properly (the rhythmic rippling motion that your body uses to pull food into your stomach). I call home, desperate for prayer. No answer (way past bedtime). I'm on my own.

What do I do?

Eventually, I pulled over, succumbing to the pain, bent over, and wretched into the fall grasses. Which relieved most of the pressure. But it was scary.

Fast forward a couple of days. Remember how last week, I was feeling numb, flatlined, dead? Yeah, not anymore. This week my emotions have swamped me like a little boat on a big lake on stormy steroids. Sadness. Heaviness. Fatigue. Apathy. An overwhelmed feeling. Anxiety. Not like me at all. Yesterday, I thumped bottom, hard (I hope it was bottom). What's going on?

Remember the choking incident? I sense God asking. Getting unstuck can be painful. A lot has been going on, too much to swallow. It built up. Hence my flatlining. But getting the logjam loose hurt, badly. When a dam breaks, the initial surge of pent up water feels dangerous, out of control. It has to. But if the 'pop' does its work, before long the water is flowing along at a normal clip.

Parallels. God uses them often in scripture. "See what's happening to that fig tree? It's like Israel." "Marry a prostitute, Hosea. Now you know how I feel with my people." There are hundreds of these.

Now, I'm not sure whether God just allows some of these parallels or actually causes a few of them (I'd be okay with either option), but I do know that he often points them out, if we're attentive to his voice, and draws parallels with spiritual stuff going on in our lives, and that those insights are often worth their weight in gold.

Filters

So, Anne Jackson's got this great thread going on her blog called "Keep your mouth shut." Her question was, "What do you wish you could say in church but can't?"

It's registered interesting confessions, all the way from "I don't think Jesus is the only way" to "I think my church is irrelevant." What got me going, though, were comments like "Beth Moore is too skinny," "That song sucked," "Get a freakin' clue," etc. Stuff coming from venom, not love. So I commented on that. Suggested that perhaps this wasn't being helpful.

And had a couple of folks in particular jump down my neck for being a judgmental pastor. One even said he loves sitting around playing mind games with people like me, loves tossing out statements he knows people will judge him for, then acting all upset when it actually happens. One responder actually insulted me, and in my next post I forgave her, and she jumped all over me for that, too.

My comment here is this: Anger and bitterness create relentless filters through which we see the world. We read everything as a judgement, everything as an attack. We can't hear God speaking through each other when we're holding on to those filters. Or at least, not very well. My heart aches for those in that boat on that blog thread, knowing there are millions more hurting like they are.

The scary thing is, like a fish in water, we can't see our own filters, at least, not unless God or circumstance or a loving person points them out. Maybe we all (me included) need to take some time today and ask God, "What filters do I see life through? Criticism through? Pain through?" And maybe we need to ask some significant others that question too. And brace ourselves for the answers.

They might hurt. But scales may fall from our eyes, plugs fall out of our ears, and we may see and hear all the better for it.

Windows of the soul

Lately I've been feeling flat. Like Bilbo said in Fellowship of the Ring: "I feel like butter scraped over too much bread." There were a couple of days last week where I felt nothing at all. No joy, no sadness, no anger, nada. A scary place to be. It tells me I'm overdoing it, that my heart is suffering. That I need to feed it better.

So I picked up a book I read some years back, called "Windows of the Soul" by Ken Gire. If you've never read it, you really should. In the introduction, he says,

"We reach for God in many ways. Through our sculptures and our scriptures. Through our pictures and our prayers. Through our writing and our worship. And through them he reaches for us."

And remember how spiritual life is about response, not initiative? He goes on to say of God, "His search begins with something said. Ours begins with something heard. His begins with something shown. Ours, with something seen. Our search for God and His search for us meet at windows in our everyday experience.

"These are windows of the soul. In a sense, it is something like spiritual disciplines for the spiritually undisciplined. In another sense, it is the most rigorous discipline of disciplines — the discipline of awareness. For we must always be looking and listening if we are to see the window and hear what is being spoken to us through them... we must be aware, at all times and in all places, because windows are everywhere, and at any time we may find one. Or one may find us."

Brilliant! He's nailed it! Praise God, someone gets it. I pray we will, too. Time to sign off, and look through the window.

Nothing less

Jesus, I fear this week to come.

There's too much on my plate. I don't know how I'll ever get things done. Preparing for the Parenting Module before the service. For my next sermon. For hosting the Pastor's and Spouse's Retreat Sunday through Tuesday. Marketing my book. Boy's Club on Wednesday. Staff Meeting. SLT (Spiritual Leadership Team) meeting tomorrow night. Men's prayer breakfast tomorrow morning. Life Group Thursday night. Parenting 24/7. Couplehood 24/7.

And I'm overwhelmed. But I trust you.

I know you've got me. That you love me. And that somehow, blur or no blur, we'll get through this. Step by step, I hear you saying. Okay then. Let's do it.

Anything else I need to know, or keep in mind?

Guard my heart? Against what?

Overdoing it, and doing it myself.

Walk with you, trust you, depend on you, listen for your voice, step by step. And only do what you tell me. Nothing more, nothing less.

Books, pedestals, and power

I've been signing a lot of books lately.

It's bizarre. But an unavoidable part of my new author path, apparently.

Jesus reminds me of some of the wisdom he passed on to his buddy John in the form of a question: "How can you believe if you accept praise from men, but make no effort to obtain the praise from the only God?"

Good question: Where am I looking for praise and affirmation? WHen it comes from people in spades, it's tempting to keep looking there. It feels good. I feel important. Or more so, at least.

But what makes me important? Books? Popularity? Signatures? A following? I'm watching a TV program right now about how hard it is to be a hollywood celebrity. Is that where importance lies. No. It's found in none of these.

I'm important because God says so. Because he loves me. Because he's invested enormous grace and patience in my calling — handing me three stellar kids, a princess wife, a group of neighbors in need, a church I can have a small hand in shaping for his glory.

Being a pastor is interesting, to say the least. People look to you for spiritual direction. For a stellar example of what a Christian can and should be. And they try to hoist you up on a pedestal. Even though I'm just a regular guy. VERY regular!

Pedestals come, pedestals go. I've said this before, but I can not, I must not, ever, help people build those pedestals. In fact, I should be helping folks deconstruct 'em, brick by brick. I don't need pedestals. I need fellowship.

Reminds me of another quote, this one by Erwin McManus: "Absolute power does not corrupt absolutely; it reveals absolutely." In other words, when you're granted fame or power, it draws out what's already in your heart. You can't hide it.

So I guess I may be finding out what I'm really made of. I hope I already know. Jesus, give me grace!

That's my boy

So, God gave me the best present ever this morning. My son Noah, who I mentioned in the last post (you should read it), came upstairs this morning and said, "Dad, I have something I need to tell you."

"WHat's that, son?"

"I read the first chapter of your book and I felt God saying that I had drifted away from him. So I gave my life back to him."

YESSSS!


God is answering my prayers for impact, starting with my own family.

Blowed up

A few random thoughts.

First, my author copies of Finding Home arrived UPS today, and they look absolutely gorgeous! I’m so excited. Just having them in hand is such an answer to prayer. I’m feeling led to give away most of the author copies, both as a kind of first-fruits tithe and to help get some copies out there as much as possible.


Second, now comes the trust phase. I’ve emailed everyone I know, I’ve done pretty much what I can do. Now it’s up to God (and supportive readers) to pass the word along, buy copies, buy gifts... and spread the word so that as many lives are changed as possible. Go God! Go people!

And, now comes opposition. This is an incredible message, after all... and the enemy won’t want this to happen. I’ve had some major glitches with the publisher in the past week or so, for one thing. And today — you’re not going to believe this — I went to print off advertising postcards to hand out with the free copies I’m giving my church (at my local SuperStore) pressed “send to one hour photo,” went to the cashier to pay, and the guy’s store phone rang. He nodded. Shook his head. Hung up.

“You’re not going to believe this,” he said. “But the printer upstairs just went PHKHUM (he makes a massive explosion motion with both hands).”

“It blew up?”

“Yeah, and it won’t be fixed for at least three days.” (After Sunday, earliest). I laugh. But he gave me the 1-hour price on the instant photos, so it’s all good after all. Too funny though.

And then my kids were so funny (and cute). I promised them each their own copy, but that I wanted to write something in it before they got it. We had Small Group tonight, and each one of them came and asked at least once, "Can I have my book now? I want to start reading it tonight!" My 11 year old, Noah, told me he was going to read a chapter a night and finish it in two weeks, like a devotional. He told God in our prayers, "I"m excited to read Dad's book together (as in, he and God!) It will be a great chance for the two of us to get to know each other better."

Amen! I'm a happy, blessed man.

FInding Home Book Review

Eva was one of the first to read Finding Home, and wrote this review:

What a gem! Finding Home is definitely a rare find. It's not often I rave about books but this is one I've been recommending to a lot of people. Not only is it brilliantly written but it's refreshing in its' ideas and teachings. It's a book that only got better as I read and reread it. I wept as the King in the story poured out his heart to Ivan, thinking that the King's words were too good to be true only to find that the his words and promises are not only for Ivan, but me and every other human being on the earth.

This book is such an encouragement and its' eloquently painted pictures of what life could look like stayed with me long after I had set it down. God's words and promises came alive for me in a way I hadn't experienced before. This is one book you don't want to pass up - it is definitely, definitely worth the purchase...

:) Eva K

Good heavens!

My last post about Finding Home, my new book, is about the kingdom of God.

Like, what is it?

1. Is it a collection of nice ideas and pretty words, a kind of abstraction meant to symbolize something even more ethereal and hazy?
2. Is it heaven, referring to the pie in the sky we get to eat when we die?
3. Is it God's 'territory,' existing in every heart where he has his way?

Jesus said the kingdom of God was within us. Which lends itself to #1 and #3. He also said we could enjoy our eternity there one day, which would be #2. But then he did some miracles and said, "That was the kingdom breaking into this world." Which doesn't fit any of our definitions so far. He also said we could "enter" it, and in one translation, "enter into" it. He told Pilate, the spineless governor who sentenced him to death, "My kingdom is from another place."

The kingdom is a place?

Yes, it's an ideal. Yes, it's the territory in our hearts given over to him. And yes, it's about heaven. But it's a place. A spiritual place I can enter, enter into, and end up in one day ("Flesh and blood cannot inherit (Fully enter into and enjoy) the kingdom of God.")

Jesus said that we can enter it NOW, not just later. That we will become fully present to and in the kingdom when we die, but that we are IN it now. Not our bodies. Our spirits. It's a SPIRITual kingdom. Where is it? Jesus says it's the kingdom of "heaven" - in Greek that's plural, "heavens."

Heavens?

Yes. The Hebrews conceived of three: The air around them, the sky above them, and the abode of God's throne, heaven proper, the capital city of the realm. And Jesus said the kingdom is of "the heavens." All three. Meaning, the kingdom is not just that place where we go when we die, it's all around us, as close as the air as we breathe. A realm overlapping ours, waiting to break into our space.

And we, if we are in Christ, live in both places at once. Our bodies on the physical plane. Our spirits in the heavens. We, ladies and gentlemen, are God's crossover technology so that what is established in heaven can manifest on earth. It's why he chose incarnation as his pattern of ministry.

And BTW, wherever you see the phrase "heavenly places" in the NT, that's the same greek word Jesus used to describe his kingdom. Chew on that for awhile! This is big, people.

And if you want to taste and see this more fully, my book, Finding Home, is all about the Kingdom I'm describing.

INTRO TO FINDING HOME

I thought I'd give you the introduction to my book, to whet your appetite. It's like hypnosis (You are getting veeery, veeeeery interested in my booooook........). But seriously. I feel like God wants this thing to go big, to help a generation discover intimacy with God in a powerful way.

***

Bone-headed disciple that I am, I arm-wrestled with this confounded manuscript for eight years before figuring out why I couldn’t seem to pin it to the table.
It’s a book about the Kingdom of heaven.
See, when Jesus taught about his Kingdom, he shunned traditional outlines. He never hammered out a distended seminary thesis or punched out a three-point sermon. When it came to teaching the Kingdom, Jesus’ methods were imperially simple. He either demonstrated his power—actually doing what he wanted people to see—or he captured their imaginations with subversive stories that got under their skin and forced them to chew on the truth a bite at a time. He used parables.
And that’s why my idea would only work as a story. God wanted me to write a parable stuffed with unforgettably delectable images.
Very shortly after kicking myself—repeatedly—I scrapped eight years of work and started over. The story wrote itself in about two weeks. Honestly, I’m excited to see where it all leads, which is why I didn’t invent some iconic ‘Everyman’ character you can relate to. It’s about me, Brad Huebert. The protagonist is myself. In fact, many of the revelations I experience in the story represent real moments of profound struggle and triumph in my own life. I’m hoping that as I write, I’ll keep changing—and that as you watch me change, you’ll find yourself changing too.
My advice? Read this more than once, because there’s a lot to chew on. I think this tale would lend itself well to a small group setting where you can flesh out what it might mean for day-to-day living together. And yes, this book is actually supposed to change the way you live your life. I believe it will do just that, if you let it.
One last thing: Since I’m the one writing the story, I’m going to take the liberty of indulging myself on one minor point: messing with my name and my family to make the story fit. Brad is a decent name, I suppose, but between you and me, I’ve always wanted a more epic title to hang my hat on.
So then: From this point onward, you will know me as … Ivan. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? Sounds medieval. It’s been said that people who view their life through an epic lens tend to find it more fulfilling. I totally agree, so that’s where I’m going to take you. Or rather, that’s where Ivan is going to take you.
The best thing about telling the truth with a story is that I can actually show you what I think Jesus means and gives and does without pages and pages of explanation. I can lead you by the hand and unveil the world as it might look if you could press through the clammy threshold of flesh to see with the eyes of faith. And maybe, just maybe, as we do that together, our eyes really will be opened and nothing will ever be the same for either of us.
Wouldn’t that be amazing?

***

Uh huh. Spread the word.

Fightin' words

The New and Living Way, the Way of the Spirit, replaces seeking with enjoying. Striving with love. Thirsting with wholeness. Prayer-mongering with trusting. And lastly, it replaces fighting with reigning.

This one is hard to explain concisely, but suffice it to say that many Christians believe that they have to fight the devil on a daily basis if they're going to experience "victory in Jesus." Ask them if Jesus defeated Satan on the cross, they'll say yes. But no.

I used to be there. I used to LIVE there. Armored-up, clenching my teeth, pounding the gates of hell, wrestling my heavenly blessings from his clammy claws. Looking over my shoulder, worrying about chinks in my armor, bellowing out commands and stamping my feet and doing prayer walks to cover ground for Jesus. Seeing the enemy at work in everyone and everything. It was exhausting.

I can't get into it all here, but as with all the tenets of the Old Way, your perspective determines your experience. Let that sink in. If you believe God is far away, he'll feel like it. If you think you've got to earn his favor, that's how things will seem to play out. If you think you need to be thirsty, you'll become a gaping hole. And if you think the devil must be fought and overcome "with your authority in Jesus," that will be your experience as well.

But if you truly believe you are one with Christ, you'll KNOW he's near. If you believe in his grace for you, you'll sense his smile. If you believe in Christ's sufficiency and that the Spring of His Spirit flows within you, you'll never thirst again. And if you believe Satan is a defeated foe and treat him that way, not fighting but enforcing, he has no option but to comply. Read my book, Finding Home, to hear more about this, but it's crucial.

Jesus, show us the truth. Persuade us. Capture our minds and imaginations, our wills and our hearts. Reveal your reality, and help us live there. Show us the New and Living Way opened up to us by your death and resurrection, the Way of the Spirit. YES! Amen!

THIRSTY?

All right, back in the saddle. Talking about the Old Way vs. the New Way of the Spirit (you might want to brush up on the last few days if you haven't read them yet).

Today's Old Way Pillar is this: The hungrier and thirstier you are for God, the better. So pang away.

I can see where this comes from. Psalm 42 talks about thirsting for God like a deer thirsts for water. A lot of the Psalms mention longing for God, being hungry and thirsty for him to the point of near desperation. And I can certainly relate. When I used to spend 2-2.5 hours a day doing my devotions, that's what motivated me. I was thirsty. Cause I'm not disciplined, per se. It was the ache in my soul that drove me to my knees. The prevailing view of late is that the hungrier and thirstier you are, the better (the more spiritual you are).

And then one day I read John 6:35, where Jesus says, "I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty."

Huh?

And then in John 7:38: "If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, "Streams of living water will flow from within him."

Huh again.

God asked me a question: "How can you be thirsty with a spring INSIDE of you?"

Uh, you can't?

And, "If being hungry and thirsty for God are so spiritual, how come Jesus promises that if you believe in him you'll never thirst again?"

Uh... cause I must be mistaken about hunger and thirst.

Right after saying this, Jesus said, "But as I told you, you have seen me and you still do not believe." Spiritual hunger and thirst are a sign that we don't yet believe in Jesus — or at least, not enough to realize the full truth about our God-shaped hole.

Gasp!

In that moment, the truth just clicked. And I've never been thirsty or hungry for God again. Not for one second. I'm passionately in love with him, but remember, Jesus has bridged the gap and paid the price and dwells within me. This is New Testament reality. You never see Paul pining away for God. You never catch Peter thirsting and longing, as the deer. No way. The New Testament is about abundance, not a lack! It's a fulfillment of the promise, not a carrot on a stick that's never quite within reach.

Praise God!

TO BE CONTINUED...

Goblin dreams

Last night was brutal. My head was reverberating like a goblin drum pounding the cavernous mines of Moria. (That's a Lord of the Rings image). I've been taking a lot of meds lately, and tried to hold off last night. I don't like taking so much medication. At 3am I gave in and popped some codeine. An hour later I finally slept. Praise God.

All that to say, I have nothing profound to share this morning. I'll wait till Sunday to post my next entry on Finding Home and the Old Way of the Written Code. You won't want to miss it.

For now, have a great day. I know I will.

Thanks Jesus.

Finding Prayer

The last two days we've talked through two major pillars supporting "the old way of the written code" - seeking God, and trying to get closer to him. Today we'll hit pillar #3: If you want to enjoy the blessing of God (like answers to prayer) you have to claim them and pray until you get them.

Persevere in prayer. Pound the gates of heaven. P.U.S.H... which means, "Pray Until Something Happens." All of this is built on an assumption: God must be badgered if you expect to get anywhere in the Christian life. The parable of the persistent widow is used to support this view. James 4:2 says, "You do not have, because you do not ask God." Which means, we're told, you don't get anything without praying. Quotes I've heard over the years: "Prayer moves the hand of God." or, "History belongs to the intercessors," or "I believe in the power or prayer." I hear this one often from people in crisis: "I really felt people's prayers this past week."

It's warped, people. Seriously screwed up.

The point of Jesus' teaching on prayer is that God is NOT like the godless judge who had to be badgered by the widow to do the right thing. He's NOT the kind of father to give a stone when you ask for bread. He knows what you need before you ask. And he gives you what you need not because you ask, but because he loves you! Imagine that! Jesus' point is that you DON'T have to badger God: "If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish and it will be given you. This is to my father's glory..." (john 15:7,8). What kind of father only feeds their child if they ask for it? What kind of father only protects, blesses, and affirms their child if the child asks? A neglectful, abusive parent, that's who. So unlike God!

Hear me: There is no power in prayer. The power is in God, and we are only asking. And James does not say, "You do not have because you do not pray." He says that we don't have because when we pray, we're demanding and commanding and claiming and manipulating and not ASKING (Read James 4:1-2, you'll see). When you feel uplifted, don't thank the prayers, thank God. That's not prayer upholding you, it's HIM! Prayer does not move God's hand. He is not a puppet or a marionette. Prayer is God at work, inviting us into what he is doing — not the other way around. History belongs to him, not to intercessors. We've got to get this right, folks.

Prayer is not an arrangement, it's a conversation. A relationship. With Someone madly in love with us who has already given us Jesus to prove he's holding nothing back in his heart from us. Don't insult him with "old way" prayer. Yes, there are things he'd like us to ask for. But not because he's playing hard to get. I mean, really!!

TO BE CONTINUED... and by the way, my new book unpacks all of this stuff in a way I can't possibly do here. Check it out!

Living by the List

Yesterday I showed you a major change in my experience of God: Because Jesus bridged the gap between God and I and came to dwell within me, I don't have to seek him. I don't have to try and 'connect' with him. I'm not supposed to. I'm supposed to enjoy him, because I'm already connected. He did the work, so I could enjoy the benefits. That was a huge revelation for me.

One of my commenters asked a brilliant question: How do I enjoy God? Well, by ditching the Old Way of the written code and learning to live the New Way of the Spirit. The next few days will unpack that a bit more. Let's take statement #2: If you want to get closer to God (presumably once you've found him) you need to engage in regular spiritual disciplines. I've come to call this belief the 'devotional correctness' paradigm.

First of all, the Bible never uses that phrase. Ever. Secondly, and hear me on this, there is not a single story in the whole Bible of anyone 'doing their devotions' like we outline them these days. Not even... GASP!... Jesus. And there isn't a single verse in all of scripture that commands us to do our devotions. Nada one. We're invited to keep in step with the Spirit, pray without ceasing, meditate on scripture constantly, listen for the voice of our shepherd, and obey him moment by moment. That's relational, not discipline-based.

Secondly, we've got to be careful not to become Pharisees. Pharisees, totally missed the relationship with God thing and built up a system of rules and expectations around the 10 commandments instead (the law). We don't do sheep and goats, but we do have a "what a good Christian looks like" list, and we pretty much damn people with it, ourselves included. But Colossians 2:13,14 says that Jesus took that list that stands opposed to us and nailed it to the cross. That's fantastic news! Jesus crucified the "what a good Christian looks like" list and said, "Will you please just walk with me?"

So I accepted his offer. For a relationship. And it's made all the difference, cause it's not about measuring up anymore. There's no pressure. Just an invitation.

I can do an invitation. TO BE CONTINUED...

BTW, Check out my website, www.presencevoicetouch.com, for more resources that will help deepen your relationship with God.

Finding Home, part II

Today is day two of unpacking the mind-boggling truths standing behind my book.

Yesterday I left myself empty and disillusioned, asking God to reboot my spiritual life. It took awhile, but eventually he replaced all five of those beliefs with new ones. Let's take the first one: If you truly want to find God, you have to seek him with all your heart.

I cracked open my Bible and started looking. I literally prayed something like, "Lord, apparently I know nothing. Please re-teach me." And this is what I found: There was a name for my failing way of life. It's called "the old way of the written code" (Romans 7:6). And that there was "a new way of the Spirit" to discover (Romans 7:6 too).

There are about sixty references to seeking God in the Old Testament. That's a major theme, people. Eight of those sixty actually say we're supposed to seek God's face. Sound familiar? You've probably been told you need to do that. Seek the Lord. Seek his face! With all your heart!

Uh huh. But there are only three references to seeking God in the New Testament. Yup. You heard me: Three. Hebrews 11:6, "God rewards those who earnestly seek him", which is about humanity, not believers; Romans 10:20, where God says, "I was found by those who did not seek me" (the opposite message); and Romans 3:11, which says that "no one seeks God." That's it. And the only bit about seeking God's face is in II Cor. 4:6, where Paul says, "For God, who said, "let there be light," made his light shine in our hearts to GIVE us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ." Jesus' face has been given to us. Something's significant has shifted between the Old and the New, methinks.

That something is called the cross, folks. Jesus bridged the gap, brought us near, came to live inside us (Galatians 2:20). The message of the New Testament is that God is seeking US! Luke 10:19: "(Jesus) came to seek and save the lost." See also John 4:23.

So I stopped seeking God. Took his presence as a granted. Woke up to his indwelling, abiding 'here-ness.' And started enjoying him instead.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Finding Emptiness

Okay.

If you're a typical North American Christian, you've been told... and toldandtoldandtold, over and over again, by pastors and teachers and books by famous people, that five foundational truths sit at the bedrock of a vital Christian life. They are... in no particular order:

1. If you truly want to find God, you have to seek him with all your heart.
2. If you want to get closer to God (presumably once you've found him) you need to engage in regular spiritual disciplines.
3. If you want to enjoy the blessing of God (like answers to prayer) you have to claim them and pray until you get them.
4. The hungrier and thirstier you are for God, the better. So pang away.
5. You must learn to defeat the devil in spiritual warfare (or he'll pick your bones clean for a late breakfast).

They sound so good, don't they? So right! The kinds of things you'd tack up on your fridge as a daily reminder. I preached 'em all myself, with gusto. Boo-ya.

Problem was, they almost killed me. Not physically. Spiritually. Cause I went for it, folks. Whole hog, as the deer pants for the water, rabid, God-chasing, full on, Christ seeking devotion. And one day I literally ended up in the fetal position on a youth retreat I was leading (no kidding), exhausted, disillusioned, and confused because my Christian life was empty. EM-TEE. And I didn't know what to do about it. I'd been to the end of the devotionally-correct rainbow and there was no pot of gold waiting for me there.

You heard me. I sought God with all my heart, engaged in 2+ hours of spiritual disciplines a day, claimed my blessings, nurtured a consuming hunger and thirst for God, and even learned to spar with the devil — and at the end of the day, I had a gaping hole to show for it. Go figure. I crashed.

So I asked God to rebuild my faith from the ground up, and slowly but surely, he did. Know what I learned?

Well, I'll start into that tomorrow.

Finding Home hits the shelves... and hopefully, people's hearts

Oh man, oh man.

The book I've worked nine years on has finally been finished. As in, it's ready to order! NINE YEARS! Well actually, I tried to write it for eight years, and it always fell flat. Then last Christmas I scrapped eight years of work — all of it — cause God told me to — and started over, writing it as a parable.

It clicked. It flowed. I love it. And I think you will too.

See, it's not just a book. It's my heart on paper. My journey. My soul. It's my life message. A life message is the one thing I'd like to be remembered for if I had to choose just one thing. And this is it, hands down.

The truths in the book have the power to change lives. To change yours. Presumptuous? Naw. It's based on the word of God!

If you've ever felt far away from God, like you're always failing; if you're thirsty for him and empty and pining for his presence; if you're tired of striving and seeking and fighting your way through the Christian life; if you want to find a new, living way — which is really just the Way opened up to us through Jesus' death and resurrection — a way of trusting and loving and enjoying and reigning — then this book is for you.

I used to be sheepish about promoting stuff I've written. But the reason I wrote it is to be faithful to God. Because it's true. Because I believe with every fibre of my being that God wants to use it to change many lives. That it's the capstone of my whole website. Why would I be sheepish about that? Go ahead, click on the links to the right and see what I mean.

Thanks for listening to my ranting.

Oh God, I leave it in your hands — and will do with mine what you want me to do. In the beautiful Name of Jesus, Amen.

Learn 'em good

God woke me up at 5:30am this morning.

To chat. To tell me that something I've been working on for church is wrong.

For one thing, he's been showing me that the church doesn't train people for the Christian life. We train for children's ministry, ushering, and worship ministry, but not for life. Not for parenting, marriage, prayer, Christian character. Oh, we inform people well enough (teaching). We motivate people decently at times (vision). But Discipleship with a capital D is about teaching people to obey what Jesus has commanded (Matthew 28:18-20). The words here literally mean:

Teach: more than instruction (one way) but actually helping people learn. The goal isn't dispensing information, but transforming a life.
Obey: Keep, observe, fulfill — like a prophecy.
Commanded: Commissioned, charged... with a definite goal, result, and purpose in mind.

As I said before, the church doesn't really do that. At all. Cause you can't do this in a class. Or with a book. It can only be done 'on the job,' with color commentary. Real-time coaching, like Jesus did.

For example, by far the best way to train parents is not to get them into a parenting class. It's to sign them up for being participants on "Supernanny." She gets right in there, observes them real time, corrects them real time, follows through, says what needs to be said. Church parents walk away with more paper in another binder and no one there to help them apply it.

The cool thing is, we CAN do this with our own children. Learn 'em real good so that they can live the life God intended. By the power of the Spirit, we MUST do this.

Wow, do I have some thinking and praying to do.

Back to the altar

Yesterday I got all cleaned up, donned a suit, slipped on a tie, and smiled for about thirty cameras. For my wife. With my wife. Did I mention she was in her wedding dress?

Someone she works with's best friend is in a wedding photography course at a local tech college and needed a married couple to model for them last night. Even the thought of doing it grew me a goiter. I dress up for weddings and funerals. To marry and bury. That's it. And we had to cancel Life Group and swimming lessons for our kids to do it. But we promised, and we had to follow through. I grumbled, and so did my stomach. My attitude scraped the bottom of the barrel, let me tell ya.

And then came God's question, posed ever-so gracefully right between my eyes: "Do you trust me?"

Sigh. Yes, Lord, I trust you. I don't want to, right now, but yes. I trust you. So off we go. Did I mention I was also flirting with a migraine? That my white shirt had pit stains from a funeral I did last week? That her wedding dress has been stuffed in a box and has chocolate stains and had to be yanked and pinned back like 400 inches because she's lost so much weight and she was still falling out of it and that my one and only tie was wrinkled? Yup. Be still, my beating heart!

But five minutes in, we realized that the evening was a great opportunity to hold hands, snuggle, dream into each other's eyes, and kiss. Lots of kissing. Yummy.

And on several occasions, we were asked how long we'd been married. "Fifteen years," I said at one point, "And still newlyweds." Of course, someone ventured the next question: "What do you do?"

"I'm a pastor."

Oh.

No more questions, but the seed's already been planted. They now know that a fun couple married 15 years who are still very much in love are pastors. Dang. Just blew their religious stuffed-shirt image to smithereens. Mission accomplished.

Yeah, we'll get a CD with all the pics on it. And we did the friend's friend a favor. But mainly, we got to kiss for a night and show a small slice of the world what a Christian marriage can look like. Yes, Lord, I trust you.

Joy

I was meditating about joy today, and this kinda just tumbled out. I think it’s from God. You be the judge.

Joy isn’t the absence of pain or sorrow. It’s not about absence, but presence. The presence of God, the presence of delight. And there is a thread of joy flitting through every moment, however painful or worrisome. The faith-filled, the hope-filled, the love-filled... they always find it, cling to it, celebrate it, let it eclipse everything else around them — because they have found the current of divine favor, of the Father’s delight; it courses through their souls like electricity, turning on lights and ennobling with power. This thread is what transforms the frail and feeble into lion-hearted martyrs who can set their jaws like flint, eyes flashing with regal courage in the face of persecution; it is what graces a soul with endurance and purpose as they care for a waning loved one; its what emboldens the jobless breadwinner, empowers the timid child called upon to take a stand far beyond the innocence of their years.

“It” is him, Jesus, given over to us in endless, magnificent generosity — life and power and all that we need. Jesus was “set above (his) companions by anointing (him) with the oil of joy” (Hebrews 1:9). And because he is present, joy is present too — joy in the darkness, joy in the menial task and in the most sadistic pain; joy in the beige seasons of endless waiting; joy in the wake of flattened dreams. Joy in the bitterness of heartache, joy in the maddening echoes of despair; joy in weariness, joy in the smothering blanket of discouragement, joy in noisy confusion, joy in the empty pit of loss.

And once we find it, that thread of joy and Jesus and life, none of those trials remain untouched by him. They shift, the crack, they crumble, they bow, they even sometimes glisten, if we have eyes to see it — glisten with the same gems of joy that fell like morning dew on Jesus, the anointed One. They may not vanish, true — but they are no longer King, no longer the death-fanged harbingers our enemy wished them to be. They are beneath us as we stand hand-in-hand with the One who has overcome the world.

Look, look for the thread! Open your eyes to the One whom your soul loves! Listen to his voice, answer him when he calls! He is standing by, ever present, ready, willing, able... always.