It's hard to believe that Christmas is only 4 months away. Like everything else this year, it might look a little different. And maybe, for Christians, it will be an opportunity to focus a little more on the "reason for the season."
The words from Henri Nouwen this morning have me thinking about the baby in a manger. They have reminded me that when Jesus arrived on earth, it was part of God's plan. It was God's heart and God's desire to fully immerse himself in the condition of being human. I love these words from the Downhere Christmas song How Many Kings: 'Cause how many kings step down from their thrones? How many lords have abandoned their homes? How many greats have become the least for me? They are a reminder that God didn't have to come be human with us. He just didn't. He could have stayed in his home, on his throne reveling in his greatness. But he chose to come be human. Why would he do that? I mean, whether you are Christian or not, this Christian story has carried forward for thousands of years. And maybe that is the part of the story that has captivated enough people that they keep telling it and asking one another, why would he do that? This morning, I'm thinking it's because God ultimately wanted to be defined by compassion. And maybe because God is challenging US to be ultimately defined by the same. I think God's inexplicable choice to be human with us was the most powerful hands on teaching example ever. Maybe through compassion he was showing us what it not only means to be God, but what it actually means to be human. Was God showing us that through compassion, humans begin to look as much like Him as they can ever look? Maybe when humans make the choice to leave behind all that makes them feel strong to walk alongside the weak, they look a lot like God. Maybe when humans let down the walls that protect their vulnerability long enough to invite the vulnerability of others into their lives, they look a lot like God. Maybe when humans voluntarily give up their power to make sure everyone feels a little power in their lives, maybe then humans start to look a lot more like God. Maybe in a few short months, when we start talking about that beautiful baby in a manger, we'll see not a baby who came to be more like us, but a God deciding that was his best avenue to ask us to be a lot more like him.
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Richard Rohr says this in his morning devotion:
"Once we know that God has inhabited all that God has created, then all of our distinctions are silly. They are just ways to create self-importance and superiority for ourselves and put down someone else. We’ve played this game since grade school!" I wrote something yesterday along these lines, and a couple of folks commented it was sort of in your face. Well, these words this morning, they were sort of in mine. These words this morning, they have me thinking about trail running. I LOVE running on trails. I've always said the trails are where I find my deepest spiritual connection. I've said it's where I feel one with God. It's where I feel and hear him. More powerfully than ever, maybe, this morning I understand it. When I'm in the woods, this unspoken conversation I have with the trees and the dirt on the trails and the birds that chirp and the squirrels that dart in front of me and then up those trees, this unspoken conversation I have with them all is "we are all the same." God has created us all. Nothing complicates that conversation. There is no thought about how we are different. No thought about how what one believes or does complicates my capacity to be what I believe and to do life as I was created to do it. I simply stay mesmerized by this common denominator that God created us all. When you look at everything though the lens of what connects us, there is peace found in that. Why do so many of us spend so much time these days feeling not at peace? Why do we spend so much time feeling disturbed and anxious and just flat out perturbed by so many of the people around us? It's because we spend so much time sorting through and identifying all the things that make us distinct, and how those distinctions complicate our own personal lives. Today, what if we consider our walk through the people of life as a walk in the woods. Where we look around us in wonder, in amazement, that the God who loves and created me is the God who loves and created them? What if the walk in the woods that feels like an escape from life for me can be found in the life I try to escape simply by being grateful for that which we have in common. I personally believe that is what we are here for in this life. It's a giant puzzle with which we are all challenged to discover our common thread. My optimism in life comes in believing that we all do indeed have a common thread. My hopelessness, many days, comes in seeing and feeling and being on the giving and receiving end of a world dead set on magnifying our differences. But we can be the leaders in solving that puzzle. You can and I can. We can all take a walk through life today and simply be blown away by what we have in common. And to be moved to love one another like that commonality loves us. Do you know who is easy for me to confront?
You. You of a different religion. You of a different political party. You of a different color or culture or country. It's easy for me to confront any part of you that I think would be better off being a lot more like me. Why is it easier? Because when I take on those battles, I'll usually find a small army of people ready to take on those battles with me. And every confrontation loves an army. Do you know who is hard for me to confront? Me. Why is that harder? Because that is a lonely battle. It's me against the army of voices inside attacking me with a challenge to be more like God. The more time I can spend attacking my enemies, the more I can avoid the internal attack challenging me to love them. The more time I can spend smacking someone's cheek, the more I can avoid the internal attack challenging me to turn mine. The more time I can spend fighting against bitterness in the world, the more I can avoid the internal attack challenging me to see and feel my own. The more time I can spend in the battles of this world, the more I can avoid the battle that wages within me. It's so much easier to fight battles insisting on changes I have little control over than it is to take on the battle I'm absolutely in control of. The battle with me. In Matthew 11:18-20, Jesus says, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." I think Jesus is challenging us here. I think Jesus is saying, before we ever take on the battles of this world, we need to make sure our hearts and our souls are aligned with his. I think Jesus is saying when you're out there fighting battles for the sake of fighting battles, that is exhausting. Jesus is telling us I fought to love the world, not change it. Come learn from me, he says. Come find rest in your battles. We all have battles going on inside. But I think Jesus is telling us you're not alone in fighting them. He's telling us he'll gladly serve as our army. "I'm waiting on God to reveal my calling."
I can't tell you how many years I used those words as an excuse to not pursue God. Because the truth is, all the while I was "waiting" on God to show up with His grand plan, I was able to kick back and keep living life according to Keith's grand plan. And I assure you, my plan for life is always more comfortable than God's plan. What we are often saying when we say we are waiting on God is we're looking for some sign or some unmistakable direction that assures us this next step is the right one, or that this plan we have is going to work. We are looking to hear God scream, yes, go for it. That's the exact right move! Well, I've discovered in my life that God is ALWAYS screaming yes, go for it. It's just some days we have hearing problems. Or faith problems. We often forget that about God. He's such a fan of our faith. The way I jump around the living room screaming about a Notre Dame touchdown, God jumps around his heavenly living room screaming when we take a step in His direction without complete assurance it's the right step. There is actually little that makes our giant God smaller than our belief that we can even take a wrong step. In Romans 8:28 we read that "we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." I've come to discover that God can work with anything we have to offer if our direction is right. If our hearts are pointed to Him, he can work miracles with every choice of our heart. So often we sit around waiting for God's answers when he's already given them to us. Before Jesus left, he was pressed to answer a question about how to live our lives. He was asked what are the most important rules. Jesus said there are two - just follow these two, he said: Love God.Love your neighbor. So while we're waiting on God to show up and assure us this next step is the right one, kill some time by asking yourself this question: "is this next choice motivated by my desire to love God and love the people around me more?" When we're waiting for God to show us some sign this is the right job move, ask yourself, do I want this job because it's going to put me in a position to love God and people more, or because it will make my life easier and more comfortable. When we're asking God about a relationship, do I want this relationship because it's going to put me in a position to love God and people more, or because it makes life better for me. When we're waiting for God to show us some sign this is the right project to take on, ask yourself, do I want to take this project on to make God famous or to put me on center stage? If you're like me, and you ask those questions of yourself while you're waiting on God to answer the ones you've asked of him, you'll probably start to hear God say, I've answered that question already - quit wasting my time and yours. (Yes, God has the capacity to be blunt sometimes). These days, my prayers rarely include "God show me the way." More often than not, my prayers ask God to go before me on this path I choose today. My prayers acknowledge that if my heart is pointed toward loving God and loving other people today, he's already promised he'll be waiting on me when I get to where my heart leads me. Every day we have a chance to make God jump around in excitement in his heavenly living room. All we have to do is toss aside our need for assurances and take a leap of faith. So there's a fella in the bible most people have heard of - even my friends who aren't Christians. His name is Noah.
One day God came to Noah and said he'd had it with the direction of the world so he was going to wipe it out with a flood and start over. And Noah, he decided, was going to be who he'd start over with. God told Noah to build a giant boat and collect two of every animal and gather all the food he'd need and then load up with his family and ride out the storm. For the next 120 years or so, that's what Noah did. He worked on this boat. And from there, the starting over story is history. As a runner who has run some long races, and has faced the moments of doubt, the moments where I've questioned what on earth am I doing, moments when I'd had enough and flat out quit on the race, I've wondered how many moments of uncertainty Noah faced in those 120 years. How many times did Noah post updates on Facebook about his project and people responded with negative comments or people didn't hit the like button on his post or more people liked someone else's post about what they were doing with their life than liked Noah's post about his life. How did Noah respond to all the uncertainty he clearly faced over the years by continuing to day after day hammer away on that boat? I think the answer is purpose. Whatever method God used to put that boat building plan on Noah's heart or in his ears or in his mind or all of the above, it got planted there so firmly that nothing was going to keep Noah from pulling it off. Not his friends walking by giving him strange looks. Not his family thinking he'd lost his mind; because surely they did at times. Not seeing people around him prosper while he "wasted his time" on a 120 year boat project. No, I think the only voice Noah listened to was the voice of purpose. Do you have something in your life you'd work on for the next 120 years, something you feel so strongly about nothing anyone could say or do would deter you from pursuing it. Is it an idea strong enough that if you put it out here today and not one person "liked" the idea, you'd keep plowing ahead with it. Do you have an idea or a mission or a way of life that's been shouted or whispered into your heart so clearly that nothing on earth could stop you from hammering on that idea, even if it takes you the next 120 years? You know, I think I missed out on some boat building projects in my life. I think there have been whispers that I ignored, many of them for fear of how other people would or wouldn't respond. I like to think I don't miss out on as many of those opportunities these days. I don't think that's because I've developed an ability to ignore what other people think or how other people respond to my boat building projects; we are all human - what other people think - their "likes" - they matter to us. What I have gotten better at is re-focusing. I've gotten better at knowing where and when I need to remind myself life is about being perfectly true to my purpose and not perfectly approved by everyone who encounters that purpose. There's a story in the bible about Jesus being baptized. It goes like this: As soon as Jesus was baptized, He went up out of the water. Suddenly the heavens were opened, and He saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and resting on Him. And a voice from heaven said, “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased!” For me, there really is only one "like" I'm pursuing in life. It's one that descends like a dove. Oh, Facebook and other social media platforms are good at distracting me and maybe us from that. But today, when that distraction lures me away from my purpose, I will think of the boat. I will remember the dove. I wonder if Facebook would consider replacing the thumbs up image with a picture of a dove? OK - well, it was worth the thought 😃. Today pursue purpose. Do not be sidetracked by uncertainty. 8/14/2020 0 Comments don't miss the sun for the fogEarlier this week, I found out my friend Todd Whitaker died. Todd and I worked together at Eckerd Youth Alternatives for a couple of years.
One of the fondest memories of my 13 years with Eckerd was a 2-week wilderness canoe trip I took with ten at-risk kids. Todd was one of my co-counselors on that trip. I'll never forget how naturally Todd cared for those kids. I'll never forget how tirelessly he worked making sure they were safe and taken care of. I'll never forget how much those kids admired him for that. Todd was just 48 years old. When you get the news someone so young has passed away, it can shake you. It's been years since I've talked to Todd; seasons of life do that to friendships - right or wrong - fair or not fair. Even still, when I heard the news, my heart broke a bit as I thought back on that trip. When I reflected on that trip, and affectionately recalled some of the incredibly cool kids we shared it with, I'd like to think the biggest message they got from the adults on that trip was there is more to life than what you think. Many of those kids were coming from homes where they'd been dealt some bad hands. I think their biggest challenges, though, weren't those hands, but more that they thought those were the only hands that got handed out in life. Out there in those canoes, away from all the images of the only world they knew dictating their paths, I'd like to think they saw hope and opportunity. I'd like to think some of them discovered life is too worth engaging in to be constantly running from it. There are some beautiful words in chapter 4 of James. These words come from The Message translation: You don’t know the first thing about tomorrow. You’re nothing but a wisp of fog, catching a brief bit of sun before disappearing. Those words are pretty in our face, I guess, as they drive home the fleeting nature of life. They drive home just how uncontrollable the length of our stay is here. But if you read those words carefully, slowly, go back and read them again - you'll discover a question in them. At least I did. The question is this: are you so caught up living in the fog of tomorrow that you miss today's sunshine? I see a lot of parents wanting for their kids what we wanted for those kids on that trip. We want them to embrace life. We want them to see hope and possibility. We want them to adopt a lifestyle of be all you can be. And yet, so many of us live just the opposite. We live so afraid of the fog that we never chase even the briefest moment of sun. So many of us forget that what our kids will become will be far more determined not by what we want for them, but by what they see us wanting for ourselves. As I get older, I don't worry for a second about death. I don't worry about being taken away too young. I worry that my passing will be marked more by how I left than by how I lived. I'm thankful for the good memories of my buddy. I'm grateful that the time I got to spend with him was more often than not marked by the sunshine and not a wisp of fog. I'd ask you to keep his family - especially his teenage daughter - in your prayers; the certainty of death doesn't make it easier for anyone. 8/10/2020 0 Comments if you feel like someone is tearing your house down, remind yourself you've been here beforeI have a running route I've run frequently this summer. One day along it, I noticed workers starting to gut out the insides of an old house that had been crumbling down on a corner lot for years. I always found it to be an eye sore. I thought, you fancy yourselves as miracle workers and not carpenters if you think you're going to do something with that dilapidated heap of lumber.
Slowly but surely, though, an actual miracle DID start to happen. Until one day I found myself running by that house and wondering, how much do they want for that house. It was beautiful. It reminds me of a favorite bible story in Genesis. It's the story of a young teenager named Joseph. He has a bunch of brothers who get jealous of him and strip him of his clothes and throw him in a pit to die. A house doesn't get more wrecked than Joseph's life was at that point. As circumstances would have it, though, a tribe of people traveling to Egypt passes by and the brothers decided to lift Joseph out of the pit and sell him to these people. In a very long Genesis story made short, Joseph would go on to be the second most powerful man in all of Egypt. If you read through the Genesis narrative of Joseph's life, you'll discover the main key to his transformation was that he never saw his house as wrecked as others did. Even from a young age, Joseph had this capacity to see he was in the midst of a renovation, not a demolition. That's hard to do, isn't it? When our lives are in the midst of a renovation to feel like someone - God maybe - isn't intent on leveling us. I've talked to so many people lately who are going through tough challenges. There are job losses and job worries. There are relationship struggles. There are countless health concerns. There is loss and there is grief. There are so many people who are naked and at the bottom of a dark pit with no light to be found. All I can say is I get it. I get it because I've been there. I get it because some days I still wake up in the pit. I'm grateful, though, that I also get renovation. Oh have I been that house that people have walked by and thought, who on earth do those people think they are that they can make anything livable out of that heap of a mess. Yet, here I sit writing with somewhat of an inexplicable feeling of hope. Not hope because I'm overwhelmed with a "life is good" feeling. Not hope because I have no worries in life. Not hope because I've reached this point in life where I'm confident no one is ever going to throw me in a pit again. No - my hope is based on the truth that every time I've been in a pit before, God has pulled me out and made me a better version of the pre-pit me. Hope because when I look in the rear view mirror of my life, I see God constantly turning me from an old heap of lumber to an "I wonder how much that house costs" sort of life. All I can say is today, if you feel like someone is tearing your house down, remind yourself you've been here before. This isn't the first time you've mistaken a complete and beautiful makeover of your life for a total demolition. In the middle of the makeover it's so easy to feel like we're incapable of being the product of a miracle renovation. We aren't worthy of it. Fortunately, we have a miracle carpenter in our corner. He is an expert at making us into the beauty he sees we can be out of the ugly we often see and feel like we've been. God has always been running by our lives wondering, wow, how much for that one? We are all on our way to a beautiful renovation. Some days it simply takes us believing that. Having faith in that. Sometimes you read a morning prayer that takes your breath away. This one from Henri Nouwen certainly took mine.
If you are the praying kind, I'd ask you to consider reflecting on these words for a few minutes. Really understand the depth of what they are saying. And then - is there a grander request we could make of God - is there anything we could ask of him that would make us any richer or better by any measure than to ask God himself for a share in his compassion? I've thought many times about what it would be like to own shares in a thriving business. But own a share of God's compassion...... But it's true - the more we share in God's compassion, the more visible his love becomes to those who may never have another chance to see it. I often come up with these reminder phrases to use throughout the day when I feel myself getting off track. Today, it will be "give me a share in your compassion dear God." Yesterday, I shared an experience that happened to me while I was running. Here is an abbreviated account of what I wrote:______
This morning, as I'm running along the tracks, a truck passes me and slows down as it does. I was listening to music, but I heard someone yelling out the window as they went by. I turned around and looked and noticed the truck had stopped. Oh boy, I thought. The truck started backing up so I started walking toward it. I peered inside the passenger side window, which was down, and saw a young man leaning over looking at me with some excitement."Dude, you are killing it today," he shouted, as he looked at what I guess was a clock on his dashboard. "This is the furthest you've been yet at this time." Keep it up, he yelled. And then drove off. I stood there stunned for a minute. Then I ran off. I ran off with this incredible sense of fire in me. Inspiration maybe? Beauty? The unbridled joy of being noticed?______ That moment changed my day. The shot of adrenaline that man gave me to get through my run became a lasting goodness that helped me get through my day. Additionally, in sharing that story, several folks commented that it was a feel good story they too needed to hear. The ripple effect of one man taking a moment to stop his truck on the way to work and offer a simple good job changed the world. The first time I said that to myself, I thought, oh, Keith, that's just the story teller in you looking for some dramatic way to spin a tale out of two guys high-fiving one another in the middle of a quiet street. But then I said, no, in some way - small or big - that moment changed the direction of people's lives. I always picture God sort of remote controlling us in a big game of bumper cars. He has this endless desire for us to bump into one another, repeatedly, to have my story cross paths with your story. I don't think God sees near the beauty in my story as he does seeing what happens when my story includes your story. I started wondering yesterday, how many times am I supposed to bump into someone, yet, I refuse to stop the truck. How many times does God drop his remote control, put his hands on his head and shake it in frustration and yell, that was going to be such a great story. It was going to change the world, he cries out. I started wondering yesterday if the things we don't stop to do change the world as much as the things we choose to do - maybe even more? How many times do we drive by a chance to change the world?Letters we don't write?Calls we don't make and doors we don't knock on? How many stories are left unwritten because we don't take the time or call on the courage needed to cross paths with the people in life we're supposed to cross paths with? I suppose I can be accused of over-thinking a man simply stopping to say you're killing it dude. But if he hadn't stopped, I would have been over-thinking something else. Something probably about just me and just my story. There's something much more beautiful over-thinking our shared stories. There's something more beautiful picturing God holding that remote control with a big smile on his face. Several years ago, I had the chance to volunteer in a local classroom serving students with special needs. I loved those kids. I came to discover their biggest need of all was adults who cared about them, who saw them as capable and worthy of love and attention.
I came to admire their teacher, Jennifer Ailstock. I'm not sure I've ever met a more selfless teacher in a field that overflows with selflessness. When it comes to the gifts of understanding and compassion, this woman is the real deal. The greatest evidence of that was the way her kids looked at her and depended on her. And make no mistake, they were far more her kids than they were her students. Many teachers are in a tough spot right now. They are being asked to make choices about going back to school and serving their students in a pandemic - a risk to their own health - or finding ways to serve them from home. I know those challenges look different from community to community, but teachers are in a challenging position right now. And as usual, the court of public opinion has a lot of opinions about what the right choice is for teachers. I see a lot of people spending far more time voicing what the right thing for all teachers to do is while spending little time trying to understand their plight. My friend Jennifer has made the choice to serve from home. And last night, she posted some beautiful words about her decision on Facebook. She wrote: _______"Today, I put myself and my health above my students. Above their best interests. The kids who will wonder where I went. The kids who I have been their “trusted adult” that won’t have me any more. The kids I genuinely love and miss. So I’m not whining, I’m devastated. I am leaving my second home and the people who have been with me through the good the bad and everything in between. I’m crying as I type this thinking about packing up 19 years worth of memories (and moving them to a storage unit to sit for a year). Packing wasn’t something I thought I’d do until I retired. And while I know there is a very good chance I will end up back in my building after a year, it doesn’t make the present any easier. It doesn’t make my heart hurt any less. I’m struggling. Big time."_______ Because I know her - I absolutely know she was in tears as she wrote that. I know how much her heart has agonized thinking about that decision, and how it breaks now that she's made it. Jennifer went on to say, "Many of us are having to make the choice between our health or our families health and being in the classroom, in our schools, where we so desperately want to be. So don’t call us names. I promise, you have no idea how hard the decision they are trying to make is. Be kind to people. Don’t judge." You know, we are all very quick to jump to analyzing the choices people make while having very little understanding of the stories that proceed their choices. It takes very little effort to take a glimpse at someone and make a judgment about who they are and what they are doing; it often takes great effort and practice to pause and consider the story behind their choice. And you know, sometimes - maybe ALL the time - the practice of trying to compassionately understand someone isn't about coming to a complete understanding of that person, and most definitely not about falling into complete agreement with them - the practice of understanding is about me and you becoming more loving people. Compassion isn't about coming up with the right answers, it's simply the most loving way to work together as we try to discover them. Today, think about someone who has made a choice you don't agree with. But instead of thinking about why that is the wrong choice in your eyes, take time to reflect and consider why they might have come to see it as the right choice for them. While you're doing that, understand you're not working to agree with them; you're working on loving them. |
Robert "Keith" CartwrightI am a friend of God, a dad, a runner who never wins, but is always searching for beauty in the race. Archives
May 2024
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