That’s All

I miss my dad. Not every minute of every day, but when I do and I do when I don’t always expect it. I miss his support and comfort and consistency and presence. I miss his ear. I miss his completely reliable willingness to hear me work through things. I miss his humility to not need to know or say the answer, but instead just be willing to be and be willing to let me be me.

This deal is difficult. Life, that is. There is stuff that piles on top of stuff and it comes flying at you faster than seems possible, at times. Sometimes it’s Kingdoms colliding, sometimes it accusations calling to any exposed insecurities, sometimes it’s just gravity. Stuff falls when you drop it.

My dad was in for whatever it might be and always welcomed the thought. There was joy in the silence of his listening and encouragement in his gentle assurances.

I really don’t know what the point of this post is other than to value the time I had with a man who was always there but now isn’t. The unthinkable has become the surreal as the urge to call to talk or listen bubbles up in the unfolding of time and it won’t yield to the finality of death.

There’s no fixing it and faith gives hope but grief has its say, too. Faith and hope are incredible beacons of eternity in the here and now. They occasionally get drowned out by the deja vu of imagination about seeing him or talking to him as I consider calling or turn the corner towards the house where he used to be. Then the punch of the disappointment that comes with the realization.

He couldn’t have fixed it but he did take the sting out of it. Whatever the it was, the him gave it some context. Context that came with being there every day, even if from a distance. I just miss him, that’s all.

Slowing Down to Live

I was starting to get a little consumed with the practice of law. There are all kinds of perceptions regarding lawyers lifestyles and work practices. What I have found is that it is challenging, rewarding and can sometimes be consuming.

We are invited into people’s problems and the weight of that kind of responsibility is real. I realized that I was carrying the weight to a degree that was affecting my own life in a slightly problematic way. Things were getting out-of-order.

Little by little, I was becoming too much “the lawyer” at the sacrifice of “the husband” or “the father.” It wasn’t drastic but my priorities and thoughts were increasingly sliding towards practicing law instead of being the man I was called to be in the rest of my life. When I got home, I was too tired and when I was there, I wasn’t fully present as I mentally recapped the previous day and prepared for the next.

One morning, almost by accident, the contrast became glaring and the solution emerged. For several reasons, there was a morning that I found myself hanging out a little longer at the house before heading to the office. I had an extra cup of coffee and sat with the kids as they began to get ready, eat breakfast and get going with their day. I enjoyed my family first instead of thinking I had to be out the door quite as fast as I normally was.

The time that it took to enjoy that extra cup of coffee at home was an incredible vehicle in re-ordering my priorities. I really enjoyed the peace and order of starting the day with the family and have started to take that time whenever possible. The physical act of staying home for the extra cup of coffee helped align my mental and emotional priorities.

Our physical disciplines and habits reflect the priorities of our character. A shift in how we spend our time and money reflects the priority we give to time and money. When either of those two resources take a top spot on our list of most important, then they knock other things from the top spot. Making first things first is sometimes as easy as a cup of coffee.

I’ve Found an Enemy I Can Kill

One of my favorite television shows ever is “The West Wing.” In one episode of that series, Admiral Fitzwallace, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, is arguing with Leo McGarry, the President’s Chief of Staff. The argument is over a foreign leader that has planned a terrorist attack against the United States and what they are going to do about it. Fitzwallace tells Leo, “I’ve been a soldier for thirty-eight years, and I’ve found an enemy I can kill.”

Well, I’ve found an enemy that I can kill and I need to kill it. The enemy that I’ve identified is my love for the distraction I find in electronics. It has become an enemy to my soul.

Increasingly, I’ve preferred the satisfaction I’ve perceived in the busyness of typing, swiping, scrolling and posting. It’s cost me my solitude and that has cost me relationship.

Practically, it costs that depth of relationship the comes in the nuance. The opportunities that are available waiting for someone else to arrive. Even discomfort in those times is valuable as the tension requires effort.

Spiritually, it costs the depth of intimacy available with an invisible God waiting on me to draw near. Jesus simply won’t post, text, email or provide any competition to those that do. The choice is mine.

The times that I’ve set aside to meet with Him have all too often been compromised by my inattention and distraction. Lately, I’ve been intentional about changing that. I’ve been intentional about killing my enemy, which is within me.

I’ve started to leave my phone in my office or car when I am at meetings or lunches. I’ve started limiting the times that I’m interested in checking for and responding to emails, phone calls, texts, etc. Most importantly, I’ve started walking past my phone in the morning as I head into my office to spend time seeking the Lord. The return on the investment has been sweet. The life that I am finding in the wake of what I am killing is tangible.

There is discipline in this and there has been temptation. I’ve literally had to pray, “Lord, I want to go type something or check something right now; will You help me?” He has and He will because He is faithful. I’m saying it out loud because I’ve found a treasure that I want to share and also because I know that I am tempted to go back to the distraction. Declaring that helps to defeat that.

 

Quest for Oneness Begins With One

Love is discovered in the most unexpected places.  For me, it was on a marriage retreat.  I can tell that’s going to take some explaining, after all why would discovering love be unexpected while away with my wife?  Because the love I discovered on retreat wasn’t for my wife.  Now I really have some explaining to do.  I knew I loved my wife.  The surprising love I discovered while on this marriage retreat was for me.

It was the next to last day of the weeklong retreat and as I’m prone to do, I rose early, poured a cup of coffee and was enjoying some quiet reading.  The night before, the founder and facilitator of the retreat asked if it had been a good week.  “It’s been great,” I told him.  “Great teaching and time with God, as well as between my Julie and me; great opportunities for us to set some things in order.  It’s been great.”

It was about to go from great to transformational.

While I didn’t hate me, up until that point in my life I never really loved me, either.  There’s a difference between self-hatred and a lack of self-love.  We can not love ourselves, even not like ourselves, and still not hate ourselves.  As I read in solitude that morning, Matthew 22:39 jumped off the page and into my heart as never before:  Love your neighbor as yourself.”

To understand the full impact of these five words we need to understand the context.  In Matthew 22:34-36, the Pharisees test Jesus by asking Him which commandment is the greatest.  Jesus’ reply to this final in a litany of questions confounds and silences the Pharisees.

“Jesus replied: ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’  This is the first and greatest commandment.  And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’  All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments’” (Matthew 22:37-40).

The greatest commandment isn’t just to love God but also to love others, but that edict to love others comes with a qualifier, “as yourself.”  The limitation on our ability to keep God’s greatest command to love is how much we love ourselves.  “Love your neighbor as yourself,” means the most I can love anyone is the degree to which I love myself.  Sitting on that couch drinking coffee that morning I realized I did not love myself.  Never had.

This was huge.  I can’t love others if I don’t love me.  As I pondered this truth, it got personal.  This was more than not being able to love the folks next door or the stranger at the grocery store.  It was deeper and more compelling than that.  Not loving me meant I couldn’t love my wife.  Not loving me meant I couldn’t love God.

I was wrecked and started to cry.  Once I started, I couldn’t stop; I wanted to love me and I wanted to love others.  I wanted to love my wife and I wanted to love God.  I cried, “Please, God, help me to love me.”  He answered.

From Abundant and Free; Seeing Life Through the Lens of Grace available on Amazon.

Note: The “retreat” mentioned is Q1: The Quest for Oneness more information available here.

The Cost of Abandon

In my mid-30s, I was working in corporate America and becoming increasingly dissatisfied.  Some of the dissatisfaction was from corporate politics and compromise; some was simply revelation of the way I’m “hardwired.”  In the midst of my dissatisfaction, I read Half Time: Moving from Success to Significance, by Bob Buford.  That book, along with some other things that happened about that time, changed everything for me.

It changed the lens through which I viewed opportunity and purpose and was the mechanism that most singlehandedly gave permission to my “want to.”  Most significantly, it gave me permission to explore endeavors that were more about making a difference than about personal achievement.  It was an invitation into life’s adventure.  I accepted.

The desire to achieve great and glorious things is part of our royal DNA.  It draws us beyond our natural limitations to be part of something larger than life.  It’s the call of Jesus into the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven.  It’s agreeing with Him in the advancement of His purposes and plans in our lives and the lives of others.

As partakers of the benefits of grace, we’re invited into this epic journey.  It costs everything and is much more difficult than paths of the status quo.  The shaping of credentials for involvement in the Kingdom comes at the expense of our soul, which we crucify to allow His Spirit to live in places previously reserved for us.  Transformation comes from the inside out as we increasingly learn to let go of everything we otherwise squeeze for comfort and security.  He has to be our only Source.

Jesus transforms you and includes you.  You go places and do things you never dreamed of when you jump off the cliff of the predictable and into the unknown of a journey with Holy Spirit.  I haven’t arrived and I don’t have it all figured out. At the same time, I’ve seen enough and know from experience that He is faithful.

Catching a glimpse of the vision for our destiny tempts us to believe the distance between where we are and where we’re going somehow has been eliminated.  Thoroughbred racehorses may see the finish line as they round the final curve, but it’s up to the jockey to pace the horse until he knows it can run uninhibited for the final distance.  The revelation of our God-breathed gifts and abilities tempts us to forget there’s a process necessary to position us to handle the manifestation of those gifts and abilities.  Just because you see it, doesn’t mean you’re ready for it.

Changes are necessary to realize the “what’s next” in life.  Dissatisfaction with compromise comes at the cost of abandon.  Put another way, the only way you take hold of the future is to let go of the present.  That idea as a concept is easy; the practical realities of leaving the familiar are challenging.  It hurts to let go, and setting out on a quest into uncharted territory is scary.

– From Abundant and Free; Seeing Life Through the Lens of Grace

It’s Time to Go Fishing; You’re Invited

The opportunities we are given come by way of invitation but the invitations are a bit loaded. It is our choice to accept or not, but if we pay attention and have eyes to see, we will want to say “yes.” When we see deeper, shallow is no longer satisfying. From that place that lacks satisfaction, we will be willing to further.

In Luke 5:10, Jesus calls the first disciples to be fishers of men. He was talking to fishermen so the description was applicable and  somewhat easy to understand, I suppose; at least to a degree. What had to make it more clear happened just before the declaration.

Leading up to that invitation/declaration, those same fisherman had experienced the power of what they were being invited into. They had been fishing, unsuccessfully, and Jesus came with a word. The word He gave them about where and how to fish produced an abundant catch that was overflowing. It was so abundant, in fact, that the boats started to sink.

The result was an immediate realization of His holiness and their relatively un-holiness. They realized their depravity and the need for grace. From that realization, they actually wanted to send Jesus away in verse 8. But He stayed; in fact, He not only stayed, but He invited them.

We likely won’t realize our purpose in the agreement that results in being fishers of men until we see the abundance and holiness of Jesus and receive His grace for our depravity. When we see from those realizations, we will want to agree in the purpose of the Kingdom by seeing and reaching people. We’ll start to see people like He sees them after we see us like He sees us.

Being fishers of men is not a burden to be weird with people or threaten them with hell. It is a realization of your need for God’s grace and salvation through Jesus and the unbridled passion that comes from the abundance that you realize you have been given. Then, from the joy of your salvation, you simply can’t help but want to connect with people and share the treasure.

If you aren’t connecting with, relating to and fishing for others to share the treasure of your salvation, perhaps you have forgotten the abundance that you have been given? Perhaps you are shameful in your sin or focused on your lack? If so, it’s OK; simply remember and see. Then say “yes” to the invitation.