On The Potter's Wheel

Joy to the World: Advent 2010

2010-12-19T10:04:00.000-08:00

This fourth week of Advent is all about Joy.

What brings you joy?

Have you ever been asked that before? Have you spent anytime thinking about it?

Not, "what makes you happy?" but, "what brings you joy?".

When we were kids the thought of those gifts under the tree made us happy... especially the ones with our names on them. On Christmas morning, our happiness exploded as we opened that toy we were really hoping for... or it diminished when, instead of the cool new toy, we got something "practical'.

You know... that sweater.

Have things changed all that much for those of us who consider ourselves "grown up" and "adult"? Not always. And it's not just on Christmas morning that "stuff" can so impact our happiness.

But, what about your Joy?
There is a difference, you know. Sure, we most often use the words "happiness" and "joy" interchangably, but it seems to me that there is a qualitative difference between the two. You see, joy trumps happiness. And its not because joy is a lot of happiness or even an over-abundance of happiness. That would be a quantitative difference. But it's a qualatative difference that sets joy apart.

Happiness is circumstantial. It is what happens to us, and the things we do that make us happy or unhappy. The circumstances of life move our sense of happiness up or down depending on our emotional reaction to them.

Joy, though... joy is deep, abiding, settled. Joy rests, not in the circumstantial and temporary, but in the substantial and eternal. Joy is one of the graces named in the New Testament letter to the Galatians as the fruit of the Spirit.

When the People of Israel had begun to rebuild Jerusalem after their exile in Babylon, their leader, Nehemiah, encouraged them by saying "the joy of the LORD is your strength".

The Apostle Paul reminded the Christians in Rome that the source of joy is far deeper than those things that often bring us happiness - "For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit."

Are you getting a sense from these biblical ideas that joy is more than happiness? Deeper. Enduring. Not our doing. Holy.

Joy comes from God. It is His gift to those who will receive it... for those who will "unwrap it". It is true today... it was true that night in the fields outside of Bethlehem as the shepherds looked up in wonder and the Angel announced:

“Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord."

The joy whose candle is lit this week is beyond circumstances, it is beyond happiness. It is deeper. It is abiding. It finds its source, its strength, its enduring in God.

It is good news of great joy... for all people. It is the gift of God to be opened...

On The Potter's Wheel.

Letting Love Light our Way - Advent 2010

2010-12-11T21:35:00.000-08:00

"I love baseball!" "I love a good pizza." "I love finding a bargain." "I love it when a plan comes together."

We hear people say it all the time. I could add my own items to the list:

I love vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce and peanuts. I love a good mystery novel. I love sci-fi movies. I love watching my kids have fun together. I love my wife.

It amazes me how many ways we use that word.

Love.

Don't get me wrong... it's a great word. I just think we misuse it sometimes. We use it to express how we feel about things from the mundane to the profound. I worry that we may cheapen what it is all about by how freely and - to be honest - flippantly we toss the word around.

There is a vast difference between how I feel about ice cream, sci-fi, and my wife. When I tell her that I love her, there is a depth there that is unique, abiding, and truer than any connection I have to dessert or movies.

What do we mean we we say "I love..."? How do we define it?

This third week of Advent is all about Love. God's love... what it means for us... and how it can transform our lives and our love.

God's love is the most profound reality in life (aside from the reality of God's existence, that is). And, God's people have been resting in and relying on it from the beginning of time.

The Psalmist reminded the People of Israel - "But the steadfast love of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him..." - Psalm 103:17

God spoke through the Prophet to give His people hope even in the midst of trying times - "I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you." - Jeremiah 31:3

In this season of the year, we remember the amazing lengths to which God's love would go for us as a continuation of that same faithfulness - "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son..." - John 3:16

Without a doubt, the Love of God is the greatest gift - Christmas or otherwise - that anyone could ever receive. If you remember nothing else this Christmas, remember that God has already sent you The Gift - His Son - the embodiment of God's love.

And, just like when we were kids and couldn't wait to tell our friends about the great stuff that we unwrapped on Christmas morning, let's share this Gift with our family and friends. And remember, they not only need to hear about it from you... they need to experience it in you too!

"Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another." - 1 John 4:11

May this gift of God's love light your life in all the days ahead...

On the Potter's Wheel.

Looking for Peace... Advent 2010

2010-12-05T13:49:00.000-08:00

Late Thanksgiving night this year my wife, oldest son, and I took part in what has become an American tradition... or rite of passage. I can't decided which. (I say it's an American tradition or rite because I can't imagine people in other countries being so, well... obsessed... driven... odd.) We went to a well-known national Mega-Mart for their midnight "door buster" sale.

I'd call it a zoo, but I don't want to insult the animals.

In the seventy-five minutes we were in the store - most of which we spent in line - we saw people pushing other people out of the way, heard them arguing with language a bit too colorful for a family-oriented store, and we saw one of the four fist fights that took place between midnight and 1:00am.

Yes... fist fights - four of them - while Christmas shopping.

As we stood in line, and watched the combatants of the fourth fist fight being escorted from the store by several of Pierce County's Finest, I looked at the folks in line with us and, shaking my head, said "And all in the name of getting gifts to celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace."

That scene has been replaying itself in my mind ever since. It bugs me. It makes me sad.

The second candle on our virtual Advent Wreath is the candle of Peace. Oh how we need it. The craziness at the Mega-Mart is just one of the many places our society's lack of peace bubbles to the surface... revealing the truth beneath the calm surface facade we've gotten so profecient at presenting.

We want peace in our lives. We know we need it. We make some pretty valiant efforts at looking peace-full. But, truth be told, for far too many of us, of our families, of our neighbors, friends, co-workers and fellow church-goers, real peace can be elusive.

Over the years I've noticed that a fairly common phrase carries a deeper reality with it. How many times have you been frustrated by someone's words or actions and heard yourself saying, "I'm gonna give them a piece of my mind!"?

(or maybe you've just heard someone else express that)

Have you noticed what happens all too often in those times? We end up giving not just a piece of our minds, but the peace of our minds. We get so wrapped up in how the other person has hurt and offended us. We rehearse not only what they did or said, but all the ways we can respond to them (many of which are less than reconciling). Whatever sense of peace we may have had gets eaten away by our own hurt, anger, and warped sense of what is right (often a self-centered definition).

This second week of Advent is about peace. Peace between people. Peace between nations. Peace between people and God. Peace within our own hearts and minds.

It is not a fairytale peace. It's a costly peace. It's a peace that requires something of us. It's a peace that can only come from God.

Romans 12:18 says,

"If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all." (ESV)

Living in peace takes some effort on our part. Not that we make the peace. Not that it is something that rises from the wellspring of our goodness.

Living in peace requires us to live, behave, and relate as citizens of a different kingdom. Not the kingdom of me. Not even the kingdom of you. The kingdom of God. The kingdom ruled by the One called the Prince of Peace... who's coming Advent and Christmas is all about.

What happens when we live as subjects and servants of the Prince of Peace? Great things. The Apostle Paul tells us in Philippians 4:6-7...

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (ESV)

We can have that peace. It's God's gift to you and to me. It's a peace that doesn't always make sense to those who havent't experienced it ("surpasses all understanding"). It's the peace that protects us even when we're hurt, offended, and frustrated ("will guard your hearts and minds...")

Isaiah 26:3 reminds us of God's role in all this...

"You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you." (ESV)

Peace. Real peace. Lasting peace. Peace for our hearts and minds. It can be ours...

On the Potter's Wheel.

Missing some Traditions... Advent 2010

2010-11-27T20:00:00.000-08:00

I miss some traditions of this time of year...

I miss getting together with a group of friends to go Christmas Caroling.

I miss gathering for Sunday worship at church for a Festival of Carols and Hanging of the Greens Service - where we'd retell the Christmas story in scripture, song, and symbol reminding us all of the true meaning and the profound depth of Christmas.

I miss the crazy late nights my wife and I used to spend getting ready to host a Christmas Open House at our home... we always had the best time and some of the greatest conversations.

I also miss the tradition of lighting an Advent Wreath to remind us of the significance of the season we are in. So, if you'll indulge me... I'd like to spend the next few weeks On the Potter's Wheel, lighting a Virtual Advent Wreath and reminding us all of the Hope, Peace, Love, Joy and that Christ offers to each of us not only in the Advent Season but each and every day.

The first candle is there for hope.

Hope is a sometimes (all too often for many) rare commodity in our day. With so many different things pulling on our time, our attention, and - at times - our last nerve, hope is something we may long for but not always feel. We want something to hope in, something to hope for. And its not really a "Pie in the sky in the sweet by and by" sort of hope that we long for either. Instead, it's hope in (as a classmate in seminary once put it) "Something sound on the ground while we're still around."

We long for a tangible hope. A hope that can hold onto us even while we hold onto it.

As much as we might like to think that our day is different that all those that have come before us, and that our situation is somehow unique... they're not.

For hundreds of years, God's people had been longing for tangible hope. They had glimpses of it... times when hope glowed a bit brighter, only to fade again. Four hundred years passed since God had sent His Word through a prophet. Four hundred years of longing, of waiting, of wondering.

The New Testament book of Hebrews begins with these words: "Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets..." But, four hundred years had passed with no word, no prophetic voice, no whisper of a still, small voice.

Hope had become for many of them what it has for many of us - a hope for Hope. A longing for that tangible hope to get us in its grip once again.

The first Advent Candle is the Candle of Hope because the Advent Season is a reminder to us that God brought Hope back to all his people with the birth of Jesus. Hebrews 1:2 goes on to say, "but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son".

Jesus came to be God's Word-made-flesh for us. He embodied the Hope of God's people throughout the ages. Our Hope finds its home and fulfillment in Jesus. The Christmas hymn, O Holy Night, says it well...

"Long lay the world
In sin and error pining,
Till He appeared
And the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope,
The weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks
A new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees,
O hear the angel voices!
O night divine,
O night when Christ was born!
O night divine, O night,
O night divine!"

Advent begins today - November 28, 2010. And it begins with Hope. Not some sappy, sentimental, greeting card kind of hope. But firm, tangible, can-take-hold-of-you-and-see-you-through hope. Hope that the New Testament calls "this mystery... Christ in you, the hope of glory". Hope that comes to us clearest when we keep ourselves where God can work it into our lives and minds and outlook...

On the Potter's Wheel.

Listening to God’s Voice

2010-05-10T14:37:00.001-07:00

AW Tozer wrote:

"The facts are that God is not silent, has never been silent. It is the nature of God to speak. The second Person of the Holy Trinity is called the Word." (The Best of AW Tozer)

Do you believe that? I do. Do I always live out that belief? No... do you?

So... If God is speaking to us - if it's His nature to communicate - why do we say things like "I wish God would tell me..." or "Why is God so quiet?" or "What does God want from me?"

Maybe it's just us. Perhaps the problem isn't with God's communication... perhaps it lies with our listening.

I remember a documentary that I watched when I was in college. They interviewed a Rabbi in Jerusalem and asked about the Wailing Wall and the Jewish practice of prayer. The Rabbi said, "Prayer is not about making yourself audible to God... but attentive to Him."

Perhaps that is the key to living out the Apostle's - at times - frustrating admonition to "pray without ceasing". We hear Paul's words and question - "How can I pray all the time? I can't just put everything aside, fold my hands, close my eyes and talk to God. Besides... I'd run out of things to say."

That's prayer focused on us, on our side of the conversation. Oh, yeah... prayer is a conversation. A dialogue, not a monologue. If our "prayer time" is consumed with, dominated by our speaking - by our telling God what's on our hearts and minds - with little to no time invested in our listening to Him, we are missing half of prayer. Actually, we are missing the biggest part of prayer.

Think about it. What is more vital in prayer - that we tell God what we think and want from Him, or that we hear from Him about what He thinks and wants from and for us?

Psalm 46:10 contains those great words -

"Be still and know that I am God"

- that are often turned into a message for the inside of some greeting card meant to comfort another person. That's nice and all, but it misses the meaning and impact of what the verse actually says.

It's not "be still" as in "be at peace", but a more forceful "be still" as in "be quiet!" or - if you'll pardon the forcefulness of the Old Testament language - "Shut up! Quit talking!"

Have you ever had the experience of being with someone who just wouldn't quit talking? I mean, you couldn't get a word in no matter what you did?

How did you enjoy that "conversation"? Not so much? A bit frustrating? Did you ever want to just cry out, “Be quiet!”?

Think how God might feel when we make our prayers one-sided events without giving Him the chance to speak to us - either through His Word or by the Holy Spirit?

God has something to say to you. He is not silent.

Are you willing to listen?

Is your spirit still enough that you don't have to do all the talking in your prayer time?

Can you hear what God has to say to you?

Can you listen?

It's a powerful way to connect with the Lover of your soul... and to be shaped and molded by Him as you rest...

On the Potter's Wheel

The 80/20 Rule

2010-01-23T21:55:00.001-08:00

“"Toast always lands butter-side down when you drop it.”

“If you spend all morning washing and waxing your car, it will rain that afternoon.”

“The hungrier you are, the longer it will take for dinner to be ready”

Just a few of the many “Rules of Life” that seem to slip into the lexicon of conventional wisdom. Many of them are simply humorous observations about the quirks of life. Some, though seem to take on the air of authority and finality. Here’s one of that latter type…

“80% of the work is done by 20% of the people.”

Have you heard that one before?

That’s one of those “Rules of Life” that we need to toss out!

That little axiom has taken root even among the people of God and has become a great fallacy of church life - that 80% of the work/ministry is done by 20% of the congregation (and that, somehow, this is the expected norm). That same fallacy reared it's head again at a recent Staff meeting at the church I attend and serve as a part-time staff member.

It's a curiosity to me that this bit of cultural "wisdom" has gained such a firm foothold in the thinking of the Church... and not just our congregation, but many congregations across North America. We plan and act as if this "80/20 Rule" can be found somewhere in the book of Proverbs or is, perhaps, tucked away in some obscure passage from the Apostle Paul’s letter to the Romans.

But, just to be clear... the so-called “80/20 Rule” is not a biblical concept.

And it's certainly not in keeping with what Scripture does say about how the members of the Church (or even a local congregation) are supposed to work with one another.

The Apostle Paul actually tells us something quite different –

Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love.

– Eph. 4:15-16 (ESV)

and

For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ… For the body does not consist of one member but of many… Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.

– 1 Corinthians 12:12, 14, 27 (ESV)

In the Body of Christ - be it globally, nationally, locally, or congregationally - the rule is NOT 80/20. It's 100/100.

"But," the objection will come, "that's not reasonable. You can't really expect everyone who attends a particular congregation to be involved in the week-in, week-out work and ministry of that congregation."

I hear that objection.

Actually, I've heard it for years. I've heard it from those sitting in the sanctuary and from those sitting around leadership tables.

My answer to the objection is... Why not?

Why can't we expect full participation? (At least from those in the congregation who claim Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord.)

The witness of the New Testament is that we should be expecting it rather than settling for 80/20, or worse, making the 80/20 Rule the goal for which we aim. It worries me that, for too many congregations, attaining the 80/20 ratio would be a marked increase in participation among their members and regular attenders.

I know of a congregation who counts around 1700 adults in the number of members and regular attenders who call them their church home. If the 80/20 Rule was a reality there, that would be 340 people active in the congregation's week-in, week-out work and ministry... not as "consumers" of that work and ministry, but as "workers" and "ministers" there. What an amazing thing it would be with that many folks actively engaged in the doing and being of the congregation's life.

But, biblically speaking, even that many actively engaged folks is far below the vision Christ has for his Body.

Is it possible for a current day, North American congregation to move beyond the limitations and confines of the 80/20 Rule? Even far beyond? I actually believe it is.

A radically unattainable goal?

No… a radically biblical, God-sized goal.

It is what God calls his people to.

It is what the Holy Spirit gifts, equips, and empowers the Church to do.

Even a local congregation. Even the one you call “home”.

So, how is your congregation doing? Is the 80/20 Rule a reality there? A dreamed of goal? Or has your congregation set it aside and begun to move into the fullness of what God has called it to be?

How are you doing with this yourself? Have you made the move from consumer to worker… from the "ministered to" to the "ministering"?

There's room for us all - individuals and congregations alike - to grow closer to God's intention for us in this area.

And, there's room for all of us - individuals and congregations alike to be shaped more fully into the Church God envision us to be…

on the Potter's Wheel.

What a Year its been…

2009-12-07T10:25:00.001-08:00

“⁸ For we do not want you to be ignorant, brothers, of the affliction we experienced in Asia. For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. ⁹ Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. ¹⁰ He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again. ¹¹ You also must help us by prayer, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many.”

- 2 Corinthians 1:8-11 (ESV)

What a year it has been. Quite probably the most difficult year in my life… and that’s saying a lot.

Ten years ago, my oldest son (then an almost fourth grader) was very sick with an infection in his bone marrow. He spent weeks of his summer vacation with a catheter in his chest, through which we gave him IV antibiotics three or four times a day around the clock. The week that he was given “a clean bill of health” and had the catheter removed, my Dad had two strokes that severely impacted his left side and his ability to speak. Months later, just after Dad was able to leave the rehab hospital, my son’s “clean bill of health” came due… the infection was back. He had to return to the hospital for a bone biopsy and spent the next several months on huge dosages of antibiotics.

Until 2009, 1999 had been my toughest year.

2009 began with my lay off from the church staff where I had served for six years as the Director of Pastoral Care/Pastor of Member Care and Counseling. It has been quite a year! I have wrestled with how to express all that this year has brought to me and my family. I’ve wrestled with how to say – as our Senior Pastor, Roger, is fond of saying - “the last 10%”… the had, uncomfortable truths we would sometimes rather skip over with an “I’m fine” sort of cop-out.

The Apostle Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 1 have helped me find a way to do that. He begins in verse 8 by saying that he wanted the Corinthians to know (“we do not want you to be ignorant…”, he says) what he had experienced. Somehow, it would be helpful for them to know what the Apostle and his companions had gone through.

Paul speaks of the “affliction” he and his co-workers had experienced and how the burden of it was more than he could bear. It felt like a death sentence to him. Now, that, I can relate to.

In the weeks that followed the announcement of the layoffs (there were five of us in all who were laid off due to some pretty big budget cuts) I struggled with questions of life… purpose, meaning, value. I wondered if I had wasted the past twenty-five years in ministry. The words spoken as the layoffs were announced to the congregation were that the positions being cut were “not essential to our mission and vision” as a congregation. Those words haunted and wounded me for months. How could Pastoral Care not be essential to the ministry of a church? And,Pastoral Care was not just “my job” – it is how God has wired me. “Pastor” is not just a job description… it is who I am. So, if Pastoral Care is not essential, what does that say about me?

It felt like a death sentence.

And then, many of those who – in my mind and heart – should have been caring for me and my family as we continued to worship and serve in the congregation were nowhere to be found. For months. It hurt. It often felt as if we were dead and folks just didn’t know how to talk with or reach out to us… we made them uncomfortable.

In the midst of all this, though, God kept showing up. Sometimes through his people. Sometimes out of the blue.

It’s in those times that I see the rest of 2 Corinthians 1:9 alive in my life and my family’s life this year…

“…we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead.”

(emphasis mine)

We have quite clearly seen God’s hand in this year. It has not always been easy to see, though. There have been times – I confess – that I quit looking for God and simply focused on my pain and struggle (see my last blog for more on that). Thankfully, those times of self-pitying didn’t last and the laments I spoke led to more trust in God. There have been times and events during this year that are clearly the hand of God moving on our behalf -

* our oldest son (now in college) received extra scholarships that covered his school year at a rather spendy private college

* our younger son has received scholarships to cover his tennis lessons all year (he finished his High School League season undefeated)

* because I was out of work this year, I was able to invest several weeks helping an uncle and cousin deal with a profound family tragedy in another state

* I was able to spend some time with my Mom after she had some surgery

* One church member has faithfully blessed us each month with a financial gift, while others have blessed us with grocery, restaurant, and coffee gift cards

* I have had the opportunity to help people with memorial services at the loss of their loved ones and weddings at the joining of two lives as one

Truly, an amazing year with an amazing God!

In verse 10, the Apostle goes on to say…

“He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again.”

I think he knew about this raising-the-dead-and-delivering-them quality of God’s character well before his difficult experiences in Asia. I’ve certainly known about it for many years before this one. I’ve preached multiple sermons on it over the years, for goodness sake! Yet, like the Apostle, I have learned it as far more than a theological assertion or a biblical precept. Through the affliction of this year, God’s grace and care – and resurrection power – is as real to me as anything in life and I trust it more than most things in life.

As this year comes to a close, the breath of new life fills my lungs. I have completed certification as a Professional Life Coach and am ready to extend that part of my twenty-five plus years of ministry beyond any one congregation to help people discover how to live more fully as the person God has created and called them to be. The Life Coaching seems a natural addition to eighteensix ministries along with this blog, some speaking opportunities and additional writing. Along with that, just in the past month, I have been offered – and accepted – a half-time position back at the church… as the Director of Pastoral Care/Pastor of Member Care.

In the past couple weeks, I have already begun to witness in my life what Paul glimpsed at in his…

“Many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many.”

For those of you who have prayed for my family and me, thank you. I hope all of you reading this will give God thanks on our behalf for all the blessings God has poured out on us. And, in case you are wondering – I know from experience – there is no better place to be than…

On the Potter’s Wheel.

Under the Broom Tree

2009-10-29T09:35:00.001-07:00

Depression sucks.

Quite literally, it sucks the energy, the joy, the hope, the motivation right out of you. Depression sucks the perspective and the drive out of you. At times, it can even suck the “you” out of you.

I know. Maybe you do too.

Long ago, in the days of the Kings of Israel, there was a man who knew the impact of depression – how life draining it is. He didn’t simply know about it academically or intellectually or clinically. He knew depression experientially.

His name was Elijah.

Yes – that Elijah. The prophet. The guy the New Testament book of James lifts up as an example of a “righteous man” whose prayers were “powerful and effective”. The man of God who prayed for a drought and three-and-a-half years later prayed for an end to the drought… and had both prayers answered. Elijah – who took on the false “prophets of Baal” atop Mount Carmel and won.

That Elijah. He knew the impact and the pain of depression.

Not sure if you believe that? Read his story in 1 Kings 17-19. Following several decisive victories and amazing demonstrations of faith and God’s work in and through him, Elijah crashes into depression. Following his victory on Mount Carmel, Elijah gets a message from the Queen – Jezebel. She’s angry and threatens to kill him. Let’s pick up on Elijah’s story here…

“Then he was afraid, and he arose and ran for his life and came to Beersheba, which belongs to Judah, and left his servant there. But he himself went a day's journey into the wilderness and came and sat down under a broom tree. And he asked that he might die, saying, “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers.” And he lay down and slept under a broom tree.”

(1 Kings 19:3-5a)

Elijah – this mighty man of God – was done. Depression had crashed down on him like a massive sneaker wave. He never saw it coming. It called everything into question for him. It sucked the hope, the joy, the motivation, the energy right out of him. He sat down under the broom tree… and he was done.

Over the past several months, I’ve followed Elijah out to this lonely place and sat down under my own broom tree. I’ve felt my joy, my hope, my energy and motivation drain away. I’ve known what the Sons of Korah express in Psalm 42:3 – “My tears have been my food day and night…”

Elijah sat down under the broom tree… worn out, drained, disheartened… and couldn’t see a way ahead any longer. He was so worn down that he fell asleep right there on the hard ground under the broom tree. He was done.

Or so he thought.

His sleep was interrupted by an angel. ..

“And behold, an angel touched him and said to him, “Arise and eat.” And he looked, and behold, there was at his head a cake baked on hot stones and a jar of water. And he ate and drank and lay down again. And the angel of the Lord came again a second time and touched him and said, “Arise and eat, for the journey is too great for you.” And he arose and ate and drank, and went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb, the mount of God.”

(1 Kings 19:5b-8)

Under the broom tree – despairing, worn, drained, confused and hurting – Elijah was met by a messenger from God.

“Get up and eat. Have something to drink.”

More rest. Again, the angel comes, “Get up and eat. Have something to drink. Take care of yourself. You need your strength.”

And then the words Elijah probably didn’t expect to hear…

“God’s not through with you yet.”

Under the broom tree – I’m listening. I’m looking around. I’m wondering…

“Is that your voice, God?”

God was not done with Elijah. He travelled for more than a month through the desert, down to Mount Horeb – also known as Mount Sinai. Yes, that Mount Sinai. It was there, standing in a cave, that Elijah had the most vivid experience of God in his life. In the midst of that time, God asked this man twice, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” Both times, Elijah let loose with his complaint, his pain, his despair.

And God listened.

And God corrected Elijah’s misconceptions.

And God gave Elijah his next set of assignments. Not as flashy and exciting as influencing the weather or defeating amazing odds in a test of faith. But, arguably, a more influential ministry than everything else he had done previously. (Read 1 Kings 19:9-18)

Under the broom tree, Elijah was done. God wasn’t.

Under the broom tree, I have felt done. God – I trust, believe and, yes, hope – isn’t.

I’ve been seeing glimpses of what may be ahead. Still some confusion and fear in me, I’ll admit. Not sure if I have the energy to make the journey ahead. But… I want to get up, leave the broom tree behind, and live in the wonder of God’s presence and plan.

There’s a place near to the broom tree… it can sometimes feel the same… but it has more purpose. It’s,

on the Potter’s Wheel.

Manna on the Edge

2009-05-14T10:51:00.000-07:00

For the past several months I have found myself at the Edge (that's part of why its been so long since my last post).

I've been here - at the Edge - before. Not this particular Edge, but an Edge.

At the end of last year, I and four of my colleagues on staff at the church we served became casualties of some major budget cuts.

Lay offs… cutbacks… downsizing… reduction in workforce.

Whatever you call it… it’s an edge.

I can’t speak for any of my four co-workers – and wouldn’t want to – about their experiences these past several months. I can only speak of mine.

My Edge has been an Edge of the Unknown. Lots of questions… very few answers. There have definitely been times when the looming drop-off of the Edge has been scary – almost to the point of overwhelming. Almost.

I don’t know what people who have been laid off from other types of jobs or careers have gone through, what questions they’ve asked and wrestled with. I don’t know if they were the more pragmatic, “What job can I get next/What do I do now?” or the deeper, more introspective, “Who am I now?” type of questions. For me, they have been the latter type for the most part.

I’ve been in local church-congregational-pastoral ministry for almost twenty-five years. I’ve joked with another minister friend of mine that I’ve not had a real job in nearly a quarter century! I can’t speak with the perspective of those in other professions but, for me, ministry hasn’t been my work – oh, to be sure, I have worked and worked hard at ministry over countless hours – it has been my identity… it’s been who I am.

"I don’t do ministry… I am a minister."

At least, that’s how I’ve self-identified for years. And, now, I find myself at this Edge.

Who am I? What is my purpose? God, what do you want of me?

Those are the questions that echo off this Edge.

Thankfully – even though there continue to be some very lonely times, times of nearly overwhelming sadness, and a ton of unanswered questions – there continues to be clear evidence of God caring and providing for me and my family. There have been the obvious moments of provision when an unexpected card arrives in the mail with an equally unexpected check inside along with a note of encouragement. There have been some times for formal ministry – when I have preached at a friend’s church or done funerals for members of our congregation. I’ve also been given the gift of being able to write the curriculum for our congregation’s summer children’s camp.

Some of the provisions have been clearly identifiable like that. I am certain, though, that there have been and will continue to be times of God’s provision that I just don't recognize. I’m in good company there.

The people of Israel had followed Moses’ lead out of their bondage of slavery in Egypt. I imagine that many (most?) of them thought they were past the Edge now. But they, really, were just getting there. Their Edge hadn’t been slavery. It was the Edge of faith and faithfulness. Would they believe and trust in God? Would they follow… not just out of Egypt, but in all parts of life?

In the midst of their prolonged time on the Edge – forty years of wandering, remember – God provided for them. On their way out of Egypt, God arranged for the Egyptians to provide materially for the Israelites. God provided them with clear instructions for how to live in the Ten Commandments and the other guidelines he gave them through Moses.

But those wandering, newly freed people didn’t recognize all of God’s provisions. One of my favorite parts of their story (which you can read in the Bible’s books of Exodus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy) is about one such provision they didn’t recognize but came to depend on.

The people were concerned that their food supplies were getting low and they were getting hungry. They cried out to God to feed them. (Actually, the Bible says “they grumbled”.) So God sent a thick morning dew. When it had evaporated, in its place – all over the ground – the people saw “a fine flake-like thing.” They asked, “What is it?” because they didn’t know what it was and, certainly, didn’t recognize it as God’s answer to their grumbling prayers. Moses told them, “This is the bread God is providing for you.” Exodus 16:31 says, “Now the House of Israel called its name manna.”

Manna. We know what that is. We’ve heard of it before. We’ve even seen it in movies of this story. Manna – the bread God gave his people throughout all their years of wandering. But, they didn’t know what it was when they first saw it. They didn’t recognize God’s provision. Their lack of recognition is memorialized forever in what they called it – manna. The word in Hebrew means “What is it?”

Throughout their extended stay on the Edge, God provided for his people. Every morning the “what is it?” – the manna – would fall and their needs would be met.

As I stand at this Edge, I look around for God’s provision. Some is obvious. Some… not so much. Still, I take the manna – my own “what is it?” – and trust God’s love and grace and provision. I take encouragement from and trust in the words of Romans 5 –

"We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces

endurance, and endurance produces character, and character

produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s

love has been poured into our hearts through the

Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”

– Romans 5:3-5 (ESV)

You may not be at an Edge… or, you may be. Wherever you find yourself, look around. Do you see God’s provision? Are you experiencing it? Not just the obvious – which is certainly worthy of celebration – but the manna, the “what is it?” that God is pouring into your midst?

Eat up! The manna is all around...

on the Potter’s Wheel.

A Closer Look at Samuel's Prayer

2009-04-06T07:57:00.000-07:00

After years spent focused on the things of God - on the daily and inner workings of the Tabernacle at Shiloh, the regular offerings, sacrifices, and rituals that gave shape to the worship of God's people, the reading and hearing of the words of the Law of Moses - Samuel found himself at the Edge. In spite of all his work, all his activity at Shiloh, the Bible reveals to us that "Samuel did not yet know the LORD, for the word of the LORD had not yet come to him."

The Edge found Samuel late one night in the Tabernacle. The duties of the day were long ended. Eli the High Priest was already down for the night and Samuel was lying in the Tabernacle itself. As he laid there, Samuel heard someone call his name, "Samuel, Samuel." It begins as somewhat of a comical scene... he gets us and goes to where Eli is resting. "Here I am. You called me." The old man looked up at him and said, "I didn't call you. Go back and lie down!" A few minutes later, the scene repeats itself... with the same results. "I didn't call you. Go and lie down." (It's here in 1 Samuel 3:7 that Scripture tells us Samuel didn't know God yet - maybe that's why he didn't recognize the voice who called him.)

The entire scene repeats itself one more time and, finally, a lightbulb goes off for Eli (so to speak). It dawns on the priest that it is God calling, so he tells his young apprentice, "Go back. When the Voice calls you again say, 'Speak, LORD, your servant is listening."

Samuel obeys - all hint of sleep a retreating memory - and lays back down. Soon, he hears it again, "Samuel, Samuel."

"Speak, your servant is listening."

It's such a simple prayer. Yet, it is deeply profound in it's importance and implication. Think about what Samuel prays at that Edge -

Speak - Although Samuel hadn't experienced it for himself, he knew that God is not silent, but communicates with his people. Samuel knew about God speaking with those who had gone before - Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Miriam, Joshua, Deborah, Gideon and so many others. He had probably heard Eli relate stories of those earlier times when God had even spoken to Eli himself. Literally from the beginning of time, God has communicated with his creation. Genesis says God spoke creation - from galaxies to mountains to seas to plants, animals and human beings - into being. Speaking, communication is an essential part of how God relates to creation, including us.

Even though Samuel had not experienced it for himself, yet, he expected it. It wasn't as odd a thought for him as it is for us and our contemporaries. God speaks to his people. God speaks to us.

Part of the reason for this confident expectation of Samuel's came through the truth of the one word he leaves out of his prayer that Eli suggested. The word - a name, actually - was "Yahweh". It is usually translated as "LORD" in English. Even though, in English, we use the "LORD" as a synonym for "God", it was so much more than that for Samuel and his contemporaries. It was the name of God. The name revealed to Moses when, at the burning bush, he asked "If they ask who sent me, who do I say sent me? What's your name?" The name, Yahweh, means "I am", and it tells of the essence and character of God. "I am" is personal to his people. "I am" is dynamic, active, relational and expectant with his people.

Because Samuel knew this to be true, he could expectantly pray, "Speak..."

Your Servant - Samuel had grown up with a clear understanding of who he was and how he related to God, to the One who was calling him that night. This was inspite of the example he saw around him in Eli's family. The High Priest's two sons - Hophni and Phinehas - served as priests alongside their father, but they did not have a heart for God so much as for their own passions and pleasures. The contrast between Samuel and these two was stark. It was stunning. In 1 Samuel 2, Hophni and Phinehas are described as "worthless men" who "treated the Lord's offering with contempt" and would even take sexual advantage of women at the Tabernacle itself. In the midst of the description of the evils of these two men, we read of Samuel - "Now the young man Samuel continued to grow both in stature and favor with the LORD and also with men." What a contrast.

As Samuel spoke the words of this prayer from the Edge, he saw his place in relation to God and in contrast to Eli's sons. He knew he was God's servant.

Now, it is easy for our contemporary ears to hear the word "servant" in a negative way. We too often hear it as "less than", "disposable", or a "necessary evil". Not so here in 1 Samuel (or throughout the Bible for that matter). To be a servant certainly meant that you were subordinate to another - to a master - but it did not mean you were less than other people around you. Two quick examples of this...

First, from Samuel's own story.... Ultimately, who was "less" in this passage of Israel's history - Samuel, the servant of God, or the self-indulgent, arrogant priests Hophni and Phinehas? Clearly, Samuel's character, faith, and faithfulness put him on a much higher plane than the sons of Eli.

The second example of how one can be a servant and not be less than anyone else is Jesus himself. Isaiah 53 describes him as a "suffering servant" who's servanthood would do more for humanity's relationship with God than all the combined efforts of every human being throughout history. In Philippians 2 (in the New Testament), the writer - a guy named Paul - describes Jesus as the obedient servant who is exalted above everyone else in all of creation.

At the Edge of faith, Samuel recognized and acknowledged who he was in relation to God. As he prayed, he was about to experience that relationship moving to a new, deeper, more profound level.

"Speak, your servant..."

Is Listening - In this account of Samuel and his prayer from the Edge, we are reminded of one of the most amazing truths found in the Bible - from the opening pages to the final verses.

Yahweh, the LORD, the God of the Bible calls and invites us into a two-way relationship with himself. There is communication, conversation, dialogue, and friendship within a true relationship with God.

It was one thing for Samuel to acknowlege that God seeks to communicate with people when he prayed, "Speak...". It's quite another - and completes the communication relationship - to pray, "I'm listening." Why? Glad you asked....

Have you ever had one of those conversations during which one person says with frustration, hurt and maybe a bit of anger, "You're not listening to me!"? Do they mean our ears aren't picking up the sounds they are making? Do they mean we have our sensory attention focused somewhere other than them? (Sometime, perhaps.) Or, do they mean we are not "hearing" the meaning, the emotions, the hope or fear, the longing behind the words falling from their lips?

One of the most valuable elements in any healthy relationship is the ability to hear and be heard beyond the surface level of our words. We want those we love adn care about to hear our hearts. It's clear from the Bible that God wants that in our relationship with him as well.

"Speak, your servant is listening." The ESV translates is as "Speak, your servant hears."

--------------------------------

In the middle of the night, the young man, Samuel, is awakened and finds he is standing at the Edge. He discovers that the God he has heard and known about wants to be known by him and wants a relationship with him that will ripple out far from his own life. This night, in this meeting of Samuel and the God he has served without knowing personally, God calls the young man to be a prophet - the spokesman of God to his people and the people around them. Everything in his life had led up to this encounter at the Edge. Samuel's prayer - and God's answer to it - changed the course not only of Samuel's life, but that of God's people, Israel, as well.

Have you been to this Edge - the Edge of faith, the Edge of trust, the Edge of a relationship with God? If not, I encourage you to get there. If you are there now... take a deep breath. Relax. When you hear God call out to your spirit, your heart, your life follow Samuel's lead...

"Speak, LORD, your servant is listening."

Prayers from the Edge - Samuel

2009-03-01T09:48:00.000-08:00

I had the good fortune to grow up in a wonderfully healthy and balanced home. Okay, so that mystical myth - "fortune" - had nothing to do with it. I lived in that kind of home because of two faithful and loving parents and four siblings I looked up to and was proud to claim as mine. (I still am, too!) A regular part of my life growing up was church. I'm not sure if this was my brother and sisters' experience or not, but I remember being at church every Sunday - unless I was sick or we were out of town. Sunday School, worship services, cookies and punch in the Fellowship Hall… all memories I hold of those years. All part of the "it's what we do" when I was growing up.
As I got older, my church friends and I were able - and somewhat expected - to do more in the life of the congregation. I served as an acolyte and lit the altar candles as part of the ritual of the worship service - affirming the reminder of the light of God's presence joining us as we worship and leaving with us as we left an hour later to go back into our "normal" life. Other than the goofy white robes we had to wear, it was a pretty cool job… I mean, we got to carry a flame in Church!

Later, as I got into High School, I moved up in my responsibilities and became a Junior Deacon. I served communion, I collected the offering, I even went to our denomination's national conference.

I remember hearing someone at a conference a year or two ago describe his childhood religious life much like mine. He said, "Yep, I'm a BUICK - Brought Up In Christian Knowledge." That was me! I knew all about God. I knew all about the Church. Not only did my family drive a Buick… I was one!

In the first part of the Bible - the section commonly called the Old Testament - there is a story of a young man named Samuel. His early story has some similarities to mine. It has some similarities to yours too, although you may not know it yet.

Samuel grew up in his day's version of Church - literally. He had been dedicated to God as an infant and taken to the tabernacle at Shiloh. Shiloh was the center of Jewish worship in the years before Jerusalem became Israel's capital city and the place where they kept the Ark of the Covenant - the box that contained the Ten Commandments and other important artifacts from the time of the Exodus. Shiloh is where the people would go to offer sacrifices to God. It is where the High Priest, Eli, lived and did his ministry. As Samuel grew up there at Shiloh, he served Eli, working beside him in the service of God.

That part of Samuel's story reminds me of my own: active and serving in the worshiping community. (I didn't actually live at the church, although sometimes it certainly felt like it.) Moving from one level of expectation and responsibility to another. Hearing the stories of God and his people week after week.

But, Samuel was standing at the Edge and didn't know it. He had been living there for quite a while and didn't know it. The interesting thing to me is, it's the very same Edge I found myself facing when I got to college.

Samuel had spent so much time - his whole life - around the things of God. He had been with the people of God, in the house of God, hearing the stories and truths of God, doing all the "right" and "religious" things. Yet, in 1 Samuel 3:7 we read this shocking revelations…

"Now, Samuel did not yet know the Lord..."

Wait a minute… how can that be? Look at what is said about Samuel before this disturbing verse:

"But Samuel was ministering before the Lord under Eli the priest." (1 Samuel 2:11)

"But Samuel was ministering before the Lord - a boy wearing a linen ephod." (1 Samuel 2:18)

"And the boy Samuel continued to grow in stature and in favor with the Lord and with people." (1 Samuel 2:26)

"The boy Samuel ministered before the Lord under Eli." (1 Samuel 3:1)

Yet, in spite of all of this, Samuel - we are told - did not know the Lord. Now that is an Edge!

Can you imagine spending all your time, pouring all your life into some work - some good work - only to discover that you were missing the most important, most foundational part of that work and of life itself? Can you imagine it?

Some of us don't need to imagine it. We've seen close friends and family members peering over that Edge, having their breath taken away by the dramatically scary, amazing vista that opened up before them. For others of us, this is the Edge we are standing at even as we read these words. Or, perhaps, it is the Edge God is pulling us toward.

I stood on this Edge when I was in college. I had an amazing opportunity that not too many people have. I attended a small, historic Christian college in Oregon. What made it so amazing was that it was there that I met, lived in the dorm with, and went to classes with other young adults - people my age - who spoke about God and Jesus as something, as someone far beyond the Sunday School lessons of my youth. They spoke of Jesus like someone they knew… and not just knew about. I found myself standing on this most important, most basic Edge that anyone can come to. Looking back, I think I can just make out Samuel's footprints in the dirt next to mine.

It was the Edge of owned faith.

Behind Samuel stood all that he had heard and done and experienced during all those years "ministering before the Lord". In front of him opened up the vastness of the Eternal. Before him was God, calling his name, inviting him to a life beyond anything he had every imagined. In the quiet hours of the night, Samuel woke up (literally and figuratively) to the fact that he was at this Edge. To be fair to Samuel, even Eli the priest - the one who was supposed to know all about this God-stuff - didn’t recognize the Edge at first either.

At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his own place. The lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was.

Then the Lord called Samuel, and he said, “Here I am!” and ran to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call; lie down again.” So he went and lay down.

And the Lord called again, “Samuel!” and Samuel arose and went to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call, my son; lie down again.” Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, and the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him.

And the Lord called Samuel again the third time. And he arose and went to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the young man. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down, and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant hears.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place. (1 Samuel 3:3-9 ESV)

So, given this guidance from Eli, and a third-time prompting from God, Samuel prays a Prayer from the Edge. His prayer is so simple, yet so amazingly profound - "Speak, Lord, your servant is listening."

It seems like a nothing little prayer, doesn't it? So brief. So plain. It hardly seems like a prayer, let alone something so life-shaping as a Prayer from the Edge. But the truths and affirmations in these six simple words sho how prepared Samuel's heart really was to be facing this Edge.

We'll look at that prayer next time...

but, for now, take a look around. Ask yourself a pretty tough question... remember, it is the most foundational question you can ask. No matter what your church or religious or spiritual background is... Do you know God? Not just know about God - but know God. As in a relationship... as a real person?

Do you yet know the Lord?

Life on the Edge

2009-02-04T08:19:00.000-08:00

I wonder if you've been thinking about the Edge.

What would the Edge be for you? What has it been for you in the past?

Some of us can only imagine what the Edge would be - we've never even gotten close to it. Others can vividly remember when the Edge was were we lived and moved and had our being. Still others read those words and think, "Remember the Edge? Imagine it? The Edge is where I'm at right now… it's all I see… and my knees are getting weak!"

How would you handle life on the Edge? Life on that raw, scary, sometimes painful, growing Edge?

Living on the Edge strips all the pretense away from us. We can't live there - in any healthy way - and keep up false fronts for long. Not those false fronts that tell us and others we are better or more "with it" or more "in touch with God" than we really are. And - paradoxically - not those false fronts that say we are less than we really are… less gifted, less loved by God, less worthy of God's grace. (In case you've forgotten, no one is worthy of God's grace… that's what makes it grace!) In Romans 12:3-6 Paul says:

For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another. Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them… (ESV)

A good reminder for all of us to set those false fronts aside even when we're not at the Edge. But, perhaps, especially when we are.

The Edge has a way of striping away the protective clutter we get so adept in immersing ourselves under. It makes us take a realistic and critical look at our resources… and our lack of resources. The Edge makes us look critically at our priorities… and our lack of clarity in them. That's why the Edge can be so scary. It's also why the Edge can be transforming.

For us… for our families… for our neighbors, friends, church and countless people we may never know.

When we find ourselves at the Edge and begin to get the sense that it's not simply a quick pause on our journey to where we planned to go and in how we planned to get there but that we are about to take up residence there well, it moves us to do something we may not have done before.

The Edge will move us to pray. I don't mean those simplistic, cutesy prayers of childhood. (I've always thought the "Now I lay me down to sleep" prayer was a bit creepy to teach to kids… "and if I should die before I wake…" Pleasant dreams, Kiddo!) I don't mean the stained glass encrusted, "holy" prayers that many of us remember the elders, deacons, and pastors of our childhood praying in words we hardly understood. I mean prayers that are raw. Prayers that come out of the depths of our souls. Prayers that are raw, scary, sometimes painful in themselves. Prayers that are shouted, demanded, whispered, whimpered… that sometimes come through clenched teeth, balled-up fists, and broken hearts. In other words, prayers that are real.

Living on the Edge calls for - alright, forces - a response from us. It always has. There are countless examples history of people - individuals, families, communities, nations - who have found themselves at the Edge. Some have responded in healthy, faithful, and redemptive ways. Others, not so much. Those healthy responses may not always be the ones you first think of, either.

In upcoming posts, we will explore and experience the stories of a number of people from the Bible - both Old and New Testaments - who found themselves at the Edge. What can we learn from their prayers from the Edge? How can their examples - good or bad - guide us as we live our lives today?

One thing that each of the stories we'll look at tell us is that prayers from the Edge are not just words spoken. They are active. They take effort. They require us to be involved with God and involved in this life on that Edge. It's not enough to simply say the words - there are times when words can just be more self-protective clutter that keeps us from living. However, the effort, the action that real Prayers from the Edge lead us to may not be what we expect.

What would you pray at the Edge? What have you prayed there? How did those prayers move you?

Living at the Edge

2009-01-01T15:44:00.000-08:00

Last time, I wrote about what it means to walk to the Edge. To move to that scary, important, cutting edge place in life where we can see the amazing and awe-inspiring vistas of what might be - both the positive and the negative.

It is good to walk out there to the edge from time time, to let yourself get to that knee-weakening, stomach-flipping spot where views of God's plan and will can sharpen into a clarity that can be just as knee-weakening and stomach-flipping as the highest precipice. It helps us to see beyond ourselves - beyond our limitations and our shortcomings. It can be staggering.

But what if the Edge isn't just someplace you can choose to walk to for a bit or a visit? You know... walk out there to the Edge, look around, get inspired, find new resolve and direction, and then head back home. Back to the normal routine. Back to safe and comfortable surroundings. What if that wasn't an option? What if the Edge was it? What if everything in life - things both in and out of your control - brought you out to the Edge and just left you there?

What if you had to live on the Edge?

I grew up in a great part of Seattle called Ballard. When I was growing up and going to school there (even before the cheerleaders pulled the ladder out from under me and gave me my dislike for heights), Ballard was still a predominately Norweigan and Swedish part of town - fiercly proud of it's Norse heritage and eager to share it with the rest of the city whether through it's Seventeenth of May Lutefisk eating contest, or the Ballard High School Beaver's cheer of "Lutefisk, lutefisk. Lefsa, Lefsa. We're from Ballard High School - Yeah, sure! Ya Betcha!"

Today, Ballard is an eclectic mixture of cultures, architecture, traditions, and people. It was then, and still is today, the proud home of one of the largest comercial fishing fleets in the Americas - including the ships and crews made famous on the TV show, "The Deadliest Catch." It was, and still is, home to a house my Grandpa Harton was absolutely convinced would slide down the side of the hill it was perched on. The folks who lived there, in an architecturally literal sense, lived on the edge. Actually, they lived over the edge since more than half of their house was built over thin air and supported by a few posts that reached from various levels of the hill to the bottom of house. It did look precarious, but it has stood up to the tests of time and weather.

I have no idea what the lives of the people who live in that "edgy" house are like. I never met the family who lived there during my childhood. I would guess that there have been several others who have lived there in the two and a half decades since I moved away from Ballard, and I find myself wondering about their lives. Have they experienced life on the edge in any significant way beyond where their address puts them? Have they ever known the heart-pounding, faith-refining experience of standing alone on the very Edge between what has been and what might be? Between who they've been and who God calls them to become?

Have you? Would you?

I don't know what the Edge may be for you, but I know it's much closer than you think.

And - I know that when you find yourself all alone out there on the Edge... you are never really alone.

Living with Intention

2008-12-11T15:42:00.000-08:00

In one of my notebooks, I have a square card that I have kept there for about ten years. I picked it up at a stationary and art shop in one of my favorite places on earth – Canon Beach, Oregon. The card – in very cool lettering – contains words from the artist who designed it, Mary Anne Hersey. The card reads:

Live with Intention
Walk to the Edge
Listen Hard
Practice Wellness
Laugh
Play with Abandon
Continue to Learn
Appreciate your Friends
Choose with no Regret
Do what you Love
Live as if this is All there is
Live with Intention

I like those thoughts… that’s why I take the card out of its pocket in my notebook and read it every so often. I do pretty well with most of those admonitions most of the time – Laugh, play with abandon, continue to learn, appreciate your friends.

There are a couple of lines on that card, though, that take a bit more… well, intentionality for me. One in particular stands out –

Walk to the Edge

The edge can be a scary place. Nothing to keep you from falling but your own tenuous sense of balance.

Now, some people revel in that. They love climbing up on ladders, leaning over railings, standing with their toes right up to the verge of a cliff. While getting out there may give you a great view… the Edge can give me the willies.

It wasn’t always that way. I used to love to climb up on ladders… I wasn’t so good at climbing trees for some reason. I liked to be up on our garage roof and get out to the edge of some of the drop-offs overlooking Shilshole Bay near my childhood home in Seattle. It all changed for me one day during my senior year at Ballard High School. I was helping some of the cheerleaders change a reader board on the side of the School’s gym building. I used a 24 foot extension ladder to get up to the sign and sat on the eight-inch or so wide ledge below the sign to reach across and change the lettering. Not a problem! I loved it. Then the girls thought it would be funny to take the ladder down for a minute. Now… that was a problem! The ladder was too heavy for them to handle. They dropped it as they took it down and couldn’t lift it back up. Over the next ten minutes or so, I kept myself balanced – half on, half off the ledge – while they ran through the school looking for the custodian to come help them with the ladder. As the minutes slipped by, so did my enthusiasm for ladders, high places, and being on the edge like that. To this day ladders make my knees turn to not-quite-set jello.

But, that’s a literal Edge. That line on my card is pointing to a more metaphorical Edge, I think…

The Edge of my experience…
The Edge of what I know…
The Edge of Myself.

The Edge can be a scary place… but it is a very important place to be. It is at the Edge that we get the best views… both of where we’ve been and where we hope to go. It’s at the Edge that growth happens… good, healthy growth. It’s at the Edge that we can go beyond ourselves and step into a future that God unfolds before us.

To walk to the Edge means to move to the spot between what you know and what you’ve only wondered about. To walk to the Edge means to walk right up to the point where all of your experiences – good and bad – have brought you to look ahead into the unknown. To walk to the Edge calls us to move with trust that the words of Proverbs 16:9 are true…

“In his heart a man plans his course,
but the Lord determines his steps.”

And, it seems to me, that to walk to the Edge challenges us to take the next step… not off the Edge – that sounds a bit fatalistic – but the step of faith.

Maybe that’s what makes Walking to the Edge is scary. It takes us beyond ourselves. It deposits us right at the spot where to move ahead means to move beyond ourselves… to move where only faith can take us.

To get there doesn’t just happen… it takes Living with Intention.

Sipping coffee and nibbling on mysteries...

2008-11-30T15:15:00.000-08:00

That's a line from one of my favorite books - "From the Corner of His Eye" - by one of my favorite authors - Dean Koontz. He uses it to describe what one of his characters is experiencing as she ponders some strange and definitely unexpected happenings in the life of her family.

And, it describes well what I hope this Blog will become - a place to faithfully nibble on the mysteries of life, faith, the Bible, meaning, God, purpose, and more.

Since a passion in my life is helping people to engage the Bible in a real way... taking it off of the shelf or out of the pew rack and putting it into their daily lives and thinking... that will be a focus of what I write here. Sometimes it will be serious. Sometimes it will be humorous. At all times, my intention will be to be faithful to what the Scriptures reveal about God and his will for us is as part of his good and dearly loved creation.

I imagine that I will share not just my thoughts - that would only be fun and interesting for a while - but those of authors and others that challenge and inspire me. And not only those whose thoughts I agree with. Sometimes the best conversations - the most spirited, the most inspiring - are those we have with people whose views and understanding of life is quite different than our own.

At other times, though, it is from the pen or mouth of another that we hear some piece of our heart expressed with words that we couldn't put together ourselves, but when we hear them we know they have struck a sympathetic chord in us.

For me, one such quote comes from a man named William Willimon. Willimon is a United Methodist minister, an author, and former Dean of the Chapel at Duke University. One of his quotes that strikes that sympathetic chord in me - and that I want to leave with you - is this:

"The good news of Jesus is so odd that we never get so used to hearing it or living in accordance with it that we don't need to hear it again."

What do you think? Can we hear the Good News - the words and story of the Bible - enough? Or is there always room for a bit more?

Something to ponder....