Frank and Abe, Doing it Their Way

I would not have thought that Frank Sinatra and the biblical patriarch Abraham had much in common, but I would have been wrong:
And Abraham said unto God, 'Oh that Ishmael might live before thee!'--Genesis 17:18

Just when God was promising Abe everything--all he had ever wanted and more, children too many to number and a kingdom by God for God--what does he say?
No, don't do that.
Do it my way.
Don't make everything new. Do it with this stuff, this child I already know, people I already love.
Don't give me a new people, a whole new place.
I'm old, said Abe. I'm tired of new.
Can't you do it my way for once?
And God said no.
And He didn't.

Abe and Frank, who would have thunk it?
But I want my way, too. And I suffer from the same shortsightedness they did.
If he'd gotten his way, Abraham would have missed so much just because he had no imagination for it.
Please, God, let me want your way.

Tepid Offerings

I want to offer my life to God.
For all He has given me, I want to give back, but how?

A song maybe. Or an offering of some kind. A sacrifice, perhaps.
Should I preach? Should I write something grand? Should I join other believers in a parade or extravaganza proclaiming His Name?

No, I don't think so.
The way to make an offering to God is by word and by the leanings of my heart.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be always acceptable in your sight, my Lord and my Redeemer.--Psalm 19:14
Word and attitude. That is my offering.

God did not give me a life to live from event to event. Life is not made of empty spaces connecting noteworthy occurences.
God gave me a constant life, one where every moment counts. I cannot help but live it word by word and thought by thought, and so must I dedicate it to Him.

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons
.--TS Elliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

There is no other way.
Breath by breath, thought by thought.
And so I measure out my offering. Constant. Unremarkable.
The automatic replies, the doing of dishes, the soft pause when I, just this once, manage to hold my tongue.
Spoon by tepid spoon.

But as I do it, my eyes incline themselves toward God, and He meets them.
It makes all the difference.
And, in the end, it's all I have.

From the Mud Puddle

I'm trying my best, I really am.
I want very much to be kind and good, contientious and responsible, a good friend and a loving wife. Isn't that enough? Isn't that living?
God gave us life, didn't He? Isn't it enough for Him that we live it well?

Well, it might be if we could actually do it.
But we can't.
I am not good. I am lazy and selfish. Love is an effort. Charity is a discipline. Goodness is an ever-escaping echo of a lesson learned long ago, but constantly forgotten.
I will live not able to measure up, and then I will die.

Though his excellence mount up to the heavens and his head reach the clouds, yet he shall perish forever, like his own dung; those who have seen him will say, 'Where is he?'--Job 20:6-7

No wonder Job sat in the mud puddle, depressed.
Talk about epic fail.
I'm so there, too.
I can't win.  I can't do the one thing I want so much to do, the only thing that makes my life worth living.

And that's why I believe God.
It just doesn't make sense any other way.
I know there was beauty in man once. The remnant of it still shows itself at the edges of the ruin, but I can't put my arms fully around it.
I can't be a good person, so I either stay here in the mud or let God lift me out. 

Life is not the taking of successive breaths. It is not preservation of flesh.
Life is finding and holding a ever-fresh beauty that lasts.
Only God offers this, and only He brings what I lack.
Only a life with God makes sense, and if I love life, I must love God.

About Face! But Where?

Repentance.
'Tis the season.
And most of us know that it means more than being sorry.
It means turning around and walking in the opposite direction.
Stop lying and start telling the truth.
Stop losing your temper and start responding calmly and with kindness.
Stop wanting what someone else has and develop satisfaction for what is already yours.

Sounds good.
I can do that.
Well maybe, but even if I can, it's not enough.
No.
It's not enough.

Something else is going on here that requires our strict attention, and it has to do with the nature of sin in the first place.
Remember David:
Against You, You only, have I sinned.--Psalm 51:4

The same goes for us.
Turning around and going in the opposite direction does not mean only changing how I act. It means changing my attitude toward the primary victim of my sin--God.
If God is the true victim, then it is this relationship I need to most urgently repair.

I have sinned against God.
Now, having turned around, I must actively seek God.
That is repentance.

And when we do it, look what God says He will do:
If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and heal their land.--2 Chronicles 7:14

Sounds good to me.

The Temptation of Me: I'm Melting!

We all remember her...hunched, crabbed, and cranky. And that hand, reaching out with dark malice, all the while saying, "My pretty....."
Yuck. (shiver)
That's me. And you.
Ego. Self-centeredness.

There's no denying it. It's always in there, looking for every chance to show itself, and there's only one way to keep it down. 
Make it melt. Starve it until it shrinks to nothing.

And Jesus showed us how:
Again, the devil took Him to a high mountain and showed Him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. "All of this I will give you," he said, "if you will bow down and worship me." Jesus said to him, "Away from me, Satan! For it is written, 'Worship the Lord your God, and serve Him only.'"--Matthew 4:8-10

Satan, unapologetically full of himself, thought he could impress Jesus.
Duh.
He obviously didn't consider who he was dealing with.
And we are dealing with Him, too.

Jesus compared the devil to God, putting the old tempter firmly in his place.
We have to do the same with ourselves. 
How? We starve ourselves. We fast.

No, we don't stop eating, although self-control in this area might be called for.
But we all need to fast from something. and it's easy to identify where.
What do you like to do just a bit too much? What causes that slight nervous panic when you stay away a little too long?
TV? Sweets? Your cell phone? Coffee? A particular friend?
Me? I had to stop looking at my blog traffic...dumb, but true.
Be honest, and ruthless.
It is our egos we are starving, and we are doing it because we are not supposed to be looking at ourselves.
We are supposed to be looking at God, and we are getting in the way.

So, melt away, you wicked witch.
I am better off without you.

The Temptation of Power: View from the Top

"Because I said so..."
Yes, I've said it, too.
Where does it come from? Frustration, impatience, busyness...but underneath all of those, it's a power play.  "Listen to me because you have to. I'm in charge."

Don't think you're tempted by power? Well, everybody is in charge of something. You are ahead of somebody in the pecking order somewhere. And, in that place, you will want to exercise your authority just because you can.
You can, but you shouldn't. Not that way.

God did institute authority, but not in the way we most often think He did:
The devil took Him to the holy city and had Him stand on the highest point of the temple: "If you are the Son of God", he said, "throw yourself down. For it is written 'He will command His angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.'" Jesus answered him, "It is also written, 'Do not put the Lord your God to the test.'"--Matthew 4:5-7

God exampled authority in Jesus Christ by keeping His power under strict control. 
He could have smoked anyone anywhere with a word, a glance, a thought. But He didn't. Ever.
Instead, He served.
He was less concerned with who was in charge and more with His own position before His Father in heaven.
That is God's management style, and He expects it to be ours, too.

The Tempation of Stuff, Thinking Past the Donut

"Communism doesn't work because people like to own stuff."--Frank Zappa
Well, he got that one right.
We do. I do, anyway.
And owning stuff isn't bad. Wealthy, and happy, and healthy people still go to heaven--people who have not materially suffered a day in their lives.
Stuff isn't the problem.
We are.

You know the feeling--the rush of wanting. That urgent feeling that says "I have to have this right now."
You know the name for it, too.
Lust.
That's the problem. The desperate wanting. 
It doesn't matter what it focuses on--a donut, a pair of jeans, a car, a job, a date, a vacation, recognition, someone else's wife...

When he was a baby, my youngest son had a t-shirt that said "I don't know what I want, but I want it NOW!"
That's the problem.

And there's only one solution:
Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the devil. After fasting for forty days and forty nights, He was hungry. The tempter came to Him and said, "If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread." Jesus answered, "It is written, 'Man does not live by bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.'"--Matthew 4:1-4

So, how to fight lust? With every word that comes from the mouth of God.
Starting today. Storing it up in our heart. Because we will need it. Oh, yes, we will.
Will it make me stop wanting stuff? Heck, no.
But it will defend me against the day that I do.
It will help me remember what is really important, what lasts.
It will help me think past the donut.