A word about your worth

rod artersThe other day, during my travels, I had to visit a restroom in a run-down gas station. Public bathroom visits are never a preferred option but gas station bathrooms, for most sane human beings, are to be avoided at all costs. Sadly, it was either visit this glorified outhouse on my long road trip or wet my pants. I actually thought about the latter option.

The men’s room in a gas station is consistently nasty.  Whereas I have heard that female restrooms are colorful, fragrant epicenters of happiness – the men’s room is where all things nasty go to die. Chipped paint on the walls, graffiti i messages on the doors, cracked mirrors, leaky faucets and trash littering the floor are commonplace sightings.  What can you expect from an understaffed, underpaid place where men who can’t aim go to dump their waste? Upon entering the bathroom and walking over the paper towel trash pile inevitably left on the floor, every man instinctly looks for the open urinal or stall. Whereas women like to travel to a restroom en masse, men prefer it to be a solo experience.

On this particular day, there was only one stall available between two oversized men.   Ugh.  I reluctantly saddled over to the lone urinal, annoyed that I cannot take care of business with more privacy and realized immediately why this stall was ominiously “available.”   At the bottom of this urinal, seemingly strategically placed in this odd place, was a picture of Abraham Lincoln. After all, his picture, familiar to us all, is the image on every five dollar bill.

In most men’s rooms – there is a shortage of things to look at while you are… making the bladder gladder.   But when you are in there with other men, it is imperative that you are very careful not to let your eyes wander East or West.This particular day, my gaze was fixed upon Lincoln. I wondered who had put a $5 bill in the urinal.  Was this some sort of reality show prank and I was unwittingly their next contestant?  I wondered if it was a crime to “Number One” on Honest Abe in this fashion.  I wondered how long it had been there and why no one had rescued it from its cruel fate. Actually, I didn’t wonder about that one too long.

A plethora of thoughts filled my head about the unfortunate bill. (Clearly I drank too much that afternoon.) I considered its unfavorable position. I pondered its unfriendly treatment.  I wondered where it had been prior to this.  I wondered what things it was able to do in the past.   When it came off the press at the Mint, it had a bright future.  Certainly this isn’t what the makers of the money had in mind for this particular piece of currency?

As I reflected the deeper meaning behind this bill’s fate, a prominent thought came to mind:

There are many days when I relate to this bill.

Stuck.

Misplaced.

Mistreated.

Undervalued.

Unfulfilled.

Used.

Abused.

Not fulfilling the purpose for which I was created.

Do you relate?   If you’re honest, you probably have felt this way too, especially if you have spent time at the bottom of life’s urinal.

Noah had to relate to this feeling when he was called by God to build an ark prior to the impending flood. The only problem is that no one had ever seen an ark or flood before.  God failed to mention it would take him over 100 years to build.   I can only imagine the ridicule he faced for a century on this “project from God.”  (Genesis 6)

Joseph had to relate. After experiencing lofty dreams about his bright future, he finds himself languishing in an Egyptian prison for two years – with no forseeable hope of getting out.  (Genesis 37-40)

David had to relate. Annointed to be the next King of Israel (I Samuel 16), he spent the next 20 years of his life as a fugitive waiting for the day that the annointed would finally be appointed.

Paul had to relate. Called by God in spectacular fashion (Acts 9), he eventually finds himself incarcerated for his newfound faith and pastoring several churches while in chains.

Hosea had to relate. Called by God to marry a prostitute, he spends his entire marriage to someone trying to love them in spite of wayward unfaithfulness. If anyone felt “stuck” in a relationship, it had to be him.

The list of biblical characters that seemingly felt mistreated, used, forgotten, is endless.

Over the last few years I have really struggled with my sense of worth.  When you commit major league sins in the midst of minor league sinners (church folk), it can mess with your perception of worth. Whereas I used to be Christianity’s darling because I could write, speak and spin all the necessary spiritual plates, I have found myself on the other end of respect, stuck like a piece of gum on the bottom of self-righteous religious shoes.   The people I used to lead don’t follow.  The ones that used to take notes have stopped listening.

Here’s the thing that $5 dollar bill taught me that day.   It’s a profound truth, if you stop long enough to absorb it.

It’s still worth $5 dollars.

It’s not worth less because it’s at the bottom of a urinal.

It’s not worth less because of it’s level of abuse or misuse.

It’s not worth less because no one wants to touch it anymore.

It’s still, all day long, worth $5 dollars, simply because it has intrinsic value.

Intrinsic.

Look that word up in the dictionary.

(adjective) in·trin·sic, belonging naturally; essential, innate, inborn, comes from within, built-in, inherent. 

In other words, it means belonging to a thing by its very nature.

Dogs are intrinsically loyal. Cats are intrinsically independent.  God is intrinsically loving.

Sometimes I forget this truth, imbedded into the D.N.A. of every human being, myself included.

There is no crime that can remove my intrinsic value.   There is no sin that can erase one’s essential worth.

Not.one.  So, dear reader, be encouraged.

Where do you find yourself in today’s moral climate?   Do you feel, because of your past, at the bottom of life’s urinal?   Do you feel, because of past sins, like a piece of moral gum on the bottom of judgemental shoes?  Do others make you feel like you’re a modern day social leper?   You’re actually in good company.

Jesus’ company.

As the Son of God and the Author of Life, He could have entered our planet on a cosmic meteor with the thunderous announcement of Angels.  Instead, He came through an unplanned, scandalous pregnancy – born into a stable, largely unnoticed by the planet He created.   He could have entered among the Papacy or prestigious.  Instead, He chose an audience of paupers.

As a sovereign God, He could have demanded worship from every living creature He encountered. Instead, He walked among us in the flesh, choosing limitations and mistreatment, instead of the royal red carpet only He deserves.

And where did He spend His time?  Who captured His attention more than anyone else?

The sinners.    The societal rejects.    The spiritually sick.

  • Tax collectors.
  • Gentiles.
  • Prostitutes.
  • The physically disabled.
  • Women.
  • The demoniacs.
  • Children.
  • Roman soldiers.
  • Lepers.

Yesterday, I was walking in a parking lot and stepped over a penny.  I stopped for a minute, aware of this blog, and wondered…

“How many penny’s have I walked over in my life simply because it did not hold enough value in my mind to reach down and bring it into my world?”

Too many.

How many people have I stepped over because I was too important to stop?

Too many.

The next time you see money in a place where it shouldn’t be, do what you can to rescue it from it’s place of unuse and let it remind you that God has plans for those whom the world rejects.

They hold intrinsic value – not because of what they can do for us – but simply because they exist.

I know I need that reminder.

And God came to earth to give it to me, even me.

Lessons from a suicidal cat

Earlier this week, I saw a kitten dart onto a very busy, heavily trafficked street.  I knew immediately that this was not going to end well.  (You have been warned.)

It’s commonly held that cats have nine lives.  I was convinced I was going to see one of hers vanish right before my eyes.  In fact, I was shocked the cat did not meet an instant, painful death.  Somehow, it barely avoided being struck by a truck and found its way underneath – momentarily safe.

The wind of the moving truck must have knocked it off balance and she began rolling end over end.   With the truck driving on and other traffic fast approaching, the feline was clearly off-balance and disoriented. As she got back on all fours – she darted one direction and then suddenly the other.   She moved with the erratic grace of a schizophrenic squirrel.  Clearly recognizing her life-threatening environment, she sprinted to the curb narrowly missing other vehicles and instinctively leaped over the nearby guard rail – presumably for safety.

lessons from a suicidal catAfter watching a heart wrenching eight seconds of Frogger, I was excited to see the little gal make it to safety.  Then, my heart dropped.   I realized the guard rail she leaped over was…

…on a bridge that led to a busy highway some fifty feet below.  #thiscatonlyhadonelife

I’ve had a few days to process this disturbing scene and came away with some thoughts that apply to our human experience:

Sometimes we make really poor decisions because we are lost, scared and unaware of their consequences.

As I look back at my life at some of the poor decisions I have made, the worst moments were often made when I was emotionally or spiritually scrambling.  Like the kitten, I was standing in the middle of oncoming relational traffic and simply trying to survive.   I moved right or left – not because they were the best places to go but simply because it avoided me getting run over from the particular truck I was facing at the moment.  In such a chaotic state, ones thinking is clouded and it’s almost impossible to know the impact of your decisions – especially on those who love and depend on you.  This cat was stuck in a physically lethal rut.  Many times, we find ourselves in emotional ones.

I’m not sure what enticed the cat to run into oncoming traffic.  Maybe it was a blind mouse?  Perhaps it was spooked by something else and that seemed like the best decision in the moment?   Sometimes it takes situations like these for clarity to kick in.  From that point on, this kitten found herself in over her head and doing her best to survive.  She wanted help but had no idea where to get it.   Can you relate?

You’ve seen this scenario before, maybe not with cats but people;

  • The homeless man begging for food.
  • The divorced Mom looking for love in all the wrong places.
  • The young professional who escapes to porn.
  • The alcoholic step-Dad with an anger issue.
  • The teenage girl who cuts herself.
  • The church leader who drinks more than he prays.

Regardless of age or gender, we see hurting people all the time just trying to survive their particular pain and their choice of survival seems counter-productive, if not self-destructive. Relationships and trust are damaged in these dangerous environments.

As I have surveyed the landscape of hurting people, I have noticed two things to be true.

One, we tend to judge those who sin differently than us.   It’s easy to condemn pornography when you struggle with gluttony.   It’s effortless to throw a moral stone at an adulterer when your darling sin is cursing.   As long as you find a vice in another that makes your vice look less menacing, you perpetuate a wrong attitude toward those who are just as sinful as you, just struggling with a different sin.

Last week, I was sitting in my buddy’s truck at a red light.  A few seconds later we heard a horrible crash outside my passenger window and saw three cars next to ours involved in a pile up at the light.  Instantly, I jumped out of his vehicle and ran over to the cars involved, two of which had their airbags deployed and clearly had drivers in need of medical attention. As I attended the scene as the first person on site, I didn’t ask who was responsible.  I didn’t try to figure out fault. That needed to come later from someone more qualified than myself.  My job was simply to help the hurting.

This brings me to my second point:

We seem to have more compassion for those in a physical mess and less sympathy for those in a moral one.  We naturally want to help a cute kitten in traffic.  They deserve to be rescued.  As for the home wreckers, they simply need to be hung.   When someone is in a car accident, we suspend judgment and rush to offer sympathies and aid.   We don’t find out who was responsible for the wreck and determine their treatment based on that.  But when the “wreck” is entirely moral or relational in nature, we will often let the instigator rot in their emotional collision.  Why is that?  Why are we quick to help those in physical pain but gossip, slander and withhold our assistance from those writhing in moral pain?

To be clear, I’m not trying to defend the decisions of those who make poor moral choices.  I’m merely suggesting that those of us who have fallen morally have done so because we were lost, scared, and in our own pain and unaware of the inevitable consequences – as obvious as they may be.  Perhaps it is because we cannot understand their sin therefore it’s easier to judge it?

And this leads me to the second lesson of the fallen cat:

Oftentimes, all we need is someone (on the outside) willing to help us find our way home.

The cat, almost immediately, needed help.   She knew she was in trouble.  She knew she needed assistance.  If only she had someone on the outside in a position to help her, she would still be with us today.   Most anyone would “jump in” to help a struggling kitten but we are less likely to offer the same enthusiasm to help a stranger in need, especially if their need is self-inflicted.  We are even more reluctant to help someone who sins egregiously because they “deserve whatever comes to them.”   Instead of realizing “there but by the grace of God go I” – we quickly climb our shaky moral ladder to the ivory tower of pride and throw as many stones as we can at those who desperately need support.

How does a homeless man get a second chance?  How do people recover from an addiction?  How does a divorced person rebound from a broken family?   How does someone who’s been evicted find housing again?   Usually only with help.   Like the cat on the street, they aren’t going to make it without some assistance.

You know what I didn’t see that day?   A bunch of other cats on the curb condemning their feline counterpart.   The kitten’s parents weren’t there meowing their disapproval at the cat’s poor decision.  The cat’s neighbors, siblings or “friends” were not there hissing at the cat’s predicament.  Apparently only we do that.   Had the cat family been there to witness it, they would have done anything they could to save the life of their feline.   And once she was safe, on the curb, they would have licked her wounds and nurtured her back to health.

Sadly, we rarely do that.   We like to give lectures.  We like to point out the mistakes.  We enjoy making others feel bad for the wrong decisions they make.   We revel in the “I told you so” moments – especially when our advice is revealed as wise.   But is that what is really needed?   Can a lecture bring healing like a hug can?   Does pointing out the mistakes create the “aha” moment, or do “aha” moments more frequently come with grace?

Years ago, I had a close friend who confessed to me, in a moment of transparency – a moral failure he had experienced with his (at the time) girlfriend.   As a fellow Christian and youth worker, I was shocked that he had fallen into such sin.  I couldn’t believe he didn’t keep a higher sexual standard.  I was disappointed in his lack of self control and repeated nature of the offense and let him know so.  I tried to be compassionate but truthfully, it felt manufactured.  In case he didn’t feel bad enough for his mistake, I felt the moral obligation to let him know my disappointment.  Looking back, I felt it was my duty to express moral outrage and God’s displeasure.  I handled it all wrong.

Fast forward 20 years.   I was now the one in the position to confess.  I needed to come clean about the double life I had been living, while in the ministry, and share my sins with this dear brother in the faith.  I fully deserved a verbal lashing.  I was completely expecting him to throw the first stone at me.  In fact, to save time – he could have just used the one I hit him with some two decades earlier.  I braced myself for judgment, however, it never came.  Instead, of feeling the guilitine, I felt grace.  Instead of condemnation, he offered compassion.  I can’t even begin to tell you how healing that was for me.  It didn’t excuse my behavior.  He didn’t condone my actions.  It didn’t remove any consequences.  But he did something that day that lectures and sermons and ostracization just can’t do:

Bring healing.

He rolled up his sleeves and tried to help, as someone who truly understood the temptation and struggle. In doing so, he helped me come home.

Is there anything better than that?   The prodigal son didn’t think so (Luke 15).   After years of poor decisions and reckless choices, he came back to the only place that ever truly loved him:

Home.

And what was waiting for him?

  • A lecture?    Nope.
  • A cold shoulder?   Nope.
  • Harsh treatment?   Nope.
  • A long list of things he had to do to get back in good standing?   Nope.

He was greeted with a hug.  And given clean clothes and a huge party and a second chance.

Who does that?

Someone who understands what it’s like to be in the middle of rush hour traffic without a prayer.

For those of you out there who relate to the cat, this message is for you:

Come home.

 

It’s time.

 

I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lordthe Maker of heaven and earth.  He will not let your foot slip – he who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.  The Lord watches over you—the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.  The Lord will keep you from all harm—he will watch over your life;  the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.” – Psalm 121

 

A father’s warning against adultery

For thousands of years, parents have been giving their children advice at all different times for all different reasons and on all different topics:andrew and me walking

  • “Eat your vegetables”
  • “Sit still”
  • “Take a bath”
  • “Go to sleep”
  • “Say thank you”
  • “Clean your room”
  • “Be kind”

If we are honest, most of the time that advice is unwanted and unsolicited – which is why we so desperately need it.  No kid ever runs with scissors thinking, “I wish I had a ‘grownup’ to tell me if this is a good idea.”   No child ponders the many benefits of bathing.

Instead, as the Scriptures teach, “foolishness is bound up within the heart of a child.” (Proverbs 22:15)  This makes sense.  Since a small child has never touched a hot stove before, how can they possibly know the pain that is about to scream in their small fingers?   Children don’t know what they don’t know.  This is one of the primary reasons why we need parents in our lives to help guide us along the way.  Parents have often been where children are heading.  Our scars come from a painful past.  Even if we haven’t touched the proverbial stove ourselves, we’ve been tempted and our ancient perspective allows us the ability to forsee the pitfalls a child simply cannot see.  As parents, we KNOW what happens when you don’t “eat your vegetables” or “go to sleep.”   Though there are other authorities in our life that can certainly help guide us (relatives, pastors, teachers, police, etc), none are quite as motivated like that of a parent.

A casual reader of my blog can see that I have a sordid past.   I have tripped and fallen while running with moral scissors.  I have not always colored within the lines.  I have touched more stoves than I can count.  Some discredit me because of it and deem me a poor teacher.  From my perspective, my sins were the tuition to the most expensive school in the land, EU – Experience University.   To be honest, I hold honorary degrees I wish I never earned.  But as a highly educated fool, I have a responsibility to share what I know with others, especially my own children.

If you have been paying attention to the news lately, adultery is once again front page material.  With the recent hack of the Ashley Madison website and the continued exposure of the names of those who were members, infidelity is wreaking havoc on the lives of millions of families.

Given the sad state of relational affairs (pun intended), I thought it was time to post a heartfelt letter about the topic – from a father’s perspective to his son.   All parental advice should be listened to simply because of that unique relationship.  But some parental advice is so packed with street cred that only a foolish child would choose to ignore it.   This letter, penned to a beloved son, is that such letter.

It is no secret that this particular father had numerous illicit relationships.  Because of this, he can offer an extremely unique perspective.  More than most, he understands the temptation and deception of the human heart and more than anything – wants his children to avoid his path.  If you don’t have a father who shared such wisdom with you, consider this wisdom as coming directly from him. (Though this letter is written from a father to his son, it obviously applies to daughters as well.)

And to my two boys, if you read this one day, please listen.  It is truth purchased at an incredibly painful price.

“Dear son,

(1-2) Please listen to what I’m about to share with you.   I beg that you stop what you are doing and really hear me.   These next few minutes can keep you from a world of hurt.

(3-6) In time, you will encounter an adulterous woman and her lying lips will seem like a sweet candy to your ears.  Her candy will give you a lifetime of cavities.  Her speech, though flattering, is deceptive.  Her words will cut you like a knife.  She walks down a street of destruction and following her will lead you straight to the grave.   She is lost and she will lead you into the land of the lost.

(7) Please listen to me and do not ignore this letter. Keep it somewhere safe and refer to it often, especially when you’re married.

(8-14) Do not go near this woman.  Stay as far away from her and her house as you can.  Don’t even drive by her neighborhood, lest you fall prey to the deceiving thoughts of your strength.   Taking her hand will bring a mere moment of pleasure and a lifetime of irreversible regret.  You will lose everything you have worked hard for. 

Every.Thing. 

Trust me on this.  I don’t want you living with regrets that you can never change.  I don’t want you haunted with the voices that will scream, “Why did I not listen to my Dad’s words?  Why did I ignore his instruction?  How did I get in this position – even as a Christian?” 

(15-20) Son, would you eat food found in the dumpster?  Would you quench your thirst with water from a street puddle?  Of course not!  Eat food from your own plate and drink water from your own trusted bottle.  Don’t open your heart and body to a total stranger.  Blessing is found in the context of marriage.  Concentrate all your energies on your wife.  Discover the treasure of that relationship. May her body alone satisfy you always.  Get drunk with her love.  Why get intoxicated with another man’ wife?  Why get entangled with a woman of poor character?

(21) Don’t be deceived, you will get caught.  And even if you escape the notice of men, everything you do is in plain view of God’s sight.  Every night He is keenly aware of the bed you lie in.

(22) Being with an adulterous woman is like willingly walking into jail.  You will lose precious freedoms. 

(23) This decision can cost you your marriage, family, career, reputation, friendships and income and if you choose this, you will be led astray by complete and utter foolishness.

Love,

Dad

(This above letter was originally written by King Solomon to his son as recorded in Proverbs 5.  Obviously, the passage above was paraphrased and placed in modern context – particularly for my boys.)

The insecurity of security

The story is told of former World Champion Boxer, Muhammad Ali, seated on a commercial airliner when the flight attendant noticed his seat belt was unfastened.  He was given the gentle reminder like every other passenger:

“Mr. Ali, you need to put on your seat belt since we are about to take off.”

His response, filled with hubris, was immediate and abrasive:

“Superman don’t need no seat belt.”

Without missing a beat, the flight attendant snapped back,

“Superman don’t need no plane.”

By all accounts Muhammad Ali was one of the greatest boxers of all time. Not surprisingly, he was also one of the most prideful.  Greatness and pride tend to go hand in hand.  In front of his challengers, fans and the media he would repeatedly brag about his own accomplishments and abilities and use his bravado to intimidate his opponents.  In his prime, Ali is recorded as saying the following:

  • “I’m the greatest.  I said that even before I knew I was.”
  • ” Not only do I knock ’em out.  I pick the round.”
  • “It’s hard to be humble when you are as great as I am.”
  • “If you even dream of beating me, you’d better wake up and apologize.”

Clearly, Ali felt secure in his abilities to win in the ring.  No one, he believed, could beat him.  After a solid decade of fighting, no one could.   From New York to Los Angeles, Canada to Germany – he was truly unstoppable.  So invincible was he, even wearing a seat belt on a plane was apparently unnecessary.

*************************************

In 1996, at the age 20, James Altucher left his I.T. position at HBO to open his own company, Reset, Inc., a website design firm.  By the end of his first year in business, he had secured contracts with massive companies like American Express, Con Edison and Time Warner.   While most companies take at least three years to merely break even and five to become profitable, Altucher led Reset to outstanding growth almost immediately.  In fact, his company grew so fast that by the end of its second year in existence, he was able to sell it for a cool $10 million dollars.  This sale brought his total net worth to over $15 million dollars.  Not bad for a 22 year old.   Not bad for a startup company.

*************************************

Both stories highlight an underlying belief system most of us share about security.

Conventional wisdom states that you are safer in a moving vehicle while wearing a seat belt.  Considering the number of car accidents in a given year and the rate of speed that we travel on our highways (or airways) – wearing a seat belt definitely makes sense.  But seat belts, as effective as they are – do not save every life.   Sometimes that layer of security isn’t secure enough.

We are all convinced that $15 million dollars should last through multiple generations.  There isn’t a person who hasn’t daydreamed what it would be like to win the lottery or be in possession of THAT kind of money.   “If I had that amount of money,” we speculate, “I would….”   The list of “woulds” is endless.  Not on that list, however, is the scenario that the money would ever run out and you would be back to your previous standard of living.

Interestingly, we all begin our human journey in the same place – the security of a womb.  A dark place, relatively quiet, snuggled tight, secure.  For the first nine months of our existence, security is all we know.  Every need is taken care of and we float – carefree – in a loving, safe environment.  By contrast, on the day of our birth, we are ejected out of this peaceful bubble and exposed in every way possible.   Bright lights.  Loud noises.  Butt naked.  Compared to our previous environment, we enter a freezing world.   Our first contact with another human being is usually a slap from the most educated person in the room.  No wonder we come out screaming.   WHAT THE HECK IS THIS PLACE?   We spend every day for the rest of our lives trying to find security again.

We are a people who, deep down, crave and clamor for security.  We wear seat belts, eat healthy and exercise because we want to be physically secure.  We work hard, invest & save our money because we want to be financially secure.  We get married, have kids & grow friendships because we want to be relationally secure.   We believe in God, go to church & help others because we want to be spiritually secure.   There is nothing wrong with our desire to feel safer.  But, are our tactics truly working?  Are we indeed safer because we wear seat belts, save our money or go to church?  Do our feelings of safety translate into actual security?

As I write this, a friend’s mother lay on a hospital bed dying from a burst aneurism in her stomach.   Two days ago, she was cooking dinner in her kitchen.   In a mere few hours, she will no longer be with us.   Such is the unpredictable and fragile nature of life.   Just because you make a lot of money, doesn’t mean you get to keep it.  Just because you feel healthy one week does not mean you will maintain your health the next. Just this afternoon, with a full bladder and too much on my mind, I walked into the public restroom at Panera Bread.  How shocked I was to see a woman coming out of one of the stalls.   The look on her face said it all…

It was not her geographical error but… (ahem) rather mine.   #blush

Apparently my mind was as full as my bladder and I startled an unsuspecting woman “taking care of business.”   Ugh.  The point is we are all one mere accident, diagnosis or restroom door away from frightening insecurity.   Sorry ma’am.

Over the course of my life, I have learned a few things about security – mainly, how fleeting it is.  My friend Harry never smoked a day in his life and yet somehow got diagnosed with stage 4 throat cancer.  Mentally astute college professors can eventually develop Alzheimer’s.   Athletes in top physical condition can suffer heart attacks.   Armored trucks can get robbed.   Famous pastors can have affairs.  Even beloved actors who play wholesome father figures on TV can be accused of heinous crimes like rape.  And if there is one place on earth where we should feel the most secure, it is church – that is, until last week’s massacre in Charleston, SC.

Security is not always secure.  Relationships that I thought were permanent turned out to be temporary.   Jobs that I thought I could not lose were gone before I knew it.   Investments that were “sure things” turned into “no-thing” in no time.   People who I thought would out-live me were gone long before their time.  Money, relationships, health, jobs, possessions, life –  all rather fragile when you come to think of it.

The Biblical character, Job, certainly learned a thing or two about security.  Referred by God Himself as the “greatest man in the east,” Job had everything you could want:

  • status with God,
  • wealth beyond measure,
  • a spouse,
  • a large family and
  • a booming business.

If anyone had security, it was Job.   That is, until God decided to make sure Job understood where his security really came from.   In an unbelievably short period of time (minutes, not days), Job lost it all.  In fact, before chapter 3 of the book that bears his name, Job was reduced to an unrecognizable stature.  Having lost his money, business, children, home and good health – Job sat alone – in agony – with a handful of friends contemplating his unfortunate turn of events.   Bad things, we think, should not happen to good people.   Job was not just good people.  By God’s own definition, he was truly the greatest.   And sometimes the greatest among us need to be reminded Who is truly keeping things secure.   How did Job handle his most insecure moment?   Our ancestor of the faith teaches us a proper response:

“At this, Job got up and tore his robe and shaved his head. Then he fell to the ground in worship and said: ‘Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart.  The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.’”

If there is one thing that tends to accompany a trial or tragedy, it’s perspective.   Sadly, we often have to lose a loved one for us to truly appreciate what they meant to us.   It’s not until we are in a hospital room or wheelchair that we realize just how precious our health really was.  It often takes turbulence in our lives to remind us that we are simply wingless creatures, sitting in a metal tube, traveling 600 miles per hour some 35,000 feet above the ground.   In those scary moments we recognize it’s not just a human pilot who determines our ultimate destination.

In the ashes, Job had received the gift of perspective.   He realized that he came into this world with nothing and he will one day leave this world with nothing.  His losses, with that perspective, helped him realize his place, however painful that place was in the moment.  His greatness was not a result of his accomplishments but his divine Accomplice.

It’s easy for us, in the midst of our loss, to let the loss taint our current perspective.  When someone loses a job, loved one, health, status, peace, home – it’s easy to let that loss consume our thoughts and life.  Many times, it’s the only thing we can see.  And sometimes, focusing on the loss can blind us from not only seeing the possibilities on the other side of the fence, but who our ultimate Neighbor is.

*************************************

By the end of 1998, Altucher had sold his hugely successful website design firm (Reset, Inc) and had (according to his estimation) about $15 million dollars in the bank.   $15 million dollars, in any economy, should last several lifetimes.  That amount of income would easily put Altucher in the category of “financially secure.”   For Altucher, however, that security was short-lived.  Financial mismanagement, overspending and poor investments created a trifecta of loss.   What should have lasted forever was gone – all of it – in less than 24 months.   From $15 million to bankruptcy in under two years.   For Altucher, it was his Job moment.

Muhammad Ali enjoyed over a decade of untouchable wins and unstoppable victories.  It was widely believed (especially by Ali) that he was unbeatable.   Then, on March 8, 1971 the security of that belief was rocked when an opponent by the name of Joe Frazier put the “greatest” in his place.  It was the first loss that Muhammad Ali experienced in 32 professional bouts.  The greatest was no longer the greatest.  Two years later, Ali would hit the canvass again, this time suffering a broken jaw and devastating loss to boxing champion, Ken Norton.   The “greatest” boxer was never the greatest again.

And that’s the point.  Security, this side of eternity, is fleeting.  I understand that feeling, all too well.  As a small child, I watched my Dad die in front of me.   I have been stranded on the side of the road (on more than one occasion) because of a flat tire or dead battery.  I have stood in court and heard my marriage officially declared over.  I have scoured the classifieds during my extended periods of unemployment.  I have experienced the loss of freedom.  I have been “un-friended” numerous times over the years.  Daily I deal with the pain of being separated from my own children.  My life has been a constant, painful reminder that my security is not found in people, places or things.

Where is your security today?  Is it in your net worth?  Is it in your strongest relationship?  Is it in your body image, intellect, bank account or current employment?   The truth is, while all those things are certainly acceptable to enjoy, there will come a day when you will be rocked to the core and left with little to no security.  In that moment, where will you turn?

May you turn to the only One who can provide true security, in this life and in the one to come.

“Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.” (Psalm 20:7)

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10)

“Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, ‘Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.” (Hebrews 13:5)

The Quiet Divorce

rod artersI recently read a story about Joe, a young man born and raised in a small 3rd world village. He comes from a large, blue-collar family and he enjoys being a part of a very close-knit community. In fact, in his area, Joe can’t go anywhere without being greeted by family or running into a friend.

Joe recently fell in love and got engaged to a wonderful young lady, another local with a sweet disposition. Excitement fills the air whenever two love birds engage. Ask anyone in his circle and they would tell you that Joe’s future is bright and full of hope.

Well, it was bright, that is, until the dark cloud appeared.

Joe was recently informed that his beloved fiancée had been unfaithful during their engagement. To make matters worse, the “infidelity” led to an unplanned pregnancy. No one, especially Joe, saw this coming. And if all of that isn’t hard enough for him to handle, Joe lives in a small-town “fishbowl.” This news cannot be contained. Knowledge of this “affair” will quickly spread in this small community. I mean, how do you hide a pregnant belly in a town like his, especially before the wedding day?

To say Joe feels wronged, is putting it lightly. To say that he experienced the sting of betrayal is an understatement. There isn’t a person out there who can’t sympathize with his situation. Joe is a great guy who certainly doesn’t deserve this treatment. This news is especially crushing given the conservative climate that Joe lives in. Infidelity and divorce are nearly unheard of in his part of the world.

Sadly, Joe’s predicament is hardly news for us in today’s current Western culture. We seem to hear story after story of great men and women being cheated on by their self-centered spouses. So common is this in our day and age that it hardly raises an eyebrow any more. If we don’t learn of our friends or family behaving badly, we certainly get our fair share of “juice” from tabloid television. There was a time when news of infidelity would shock those who learned of it. We are well beyond that reaction. Take a brief stroll down the Facebook news feed and it is not uncommon to watch ex-husband’s spewing the latest gossip about their philandering ex-wives. Follow along the twitter road for just a few minutes and you will, no doubt, see the angry tweets from scorned women. I can’t tell you how many derogatory memes I see, on a daily basis, calling out the liars, cheaters and scoundrel behavior that exists in today’s moral climate. Social media has not only made it easier to broadcast the sins of the sinner, but it has made it instantly viral. There is not a one of us who cannot, with great detail, repeat the injustices of our friends who have swam in the same murky waters as Joe. In fact, perhaps you have shared the salacious details of your injustices with others. With so many willing and supportive ears to hear, it’s hard not to.

And therein lies the reason Joe’s story is so powerful. The primary thing that separates Joe’s heartbreaking situation from our own is not the situation itself but how he handled it.

Though he could have publicly “outed” his wife-to-be, he didn’t. Though he held the hard-to-ignore “victim” card, he chose not to play it. He didn’t gather family or friends and “vent” or even attempt to create a verbal lynch mob. He didn’t slander his fiancée or give in to the common excuse for gossip, otherwise known as a “prayer request.” In fact, unless you were really paying attention, you may not have even noticed his response or recognized its significance.

We live in a “no-fault divorce” country. Joe does not. We live in a “she-did-me-wrong-she-should-pay” cul de sac. Joe does not. In fact, in Joe’s tiny village, his fiancée’s actions could be punishable by death in a court of law. And Joe knew it. One word from Joe and her life could be over. Justified capital punishment.

Fortunately for her, Joe is not your typical man. Before I tell you how Joe handled this complete injustice, let me ask you this….

How have you handled the injustices aimed your direction?
What has your response been when someone has done you wrong?

Even if our situation is different than Joe’s, haven’t we all experienced some sort of injustice at some point in our life by someone close to us?

  • A cheating husband?
  • A lying girlfriend?
  • An abusive ex-spouse?
  • An absent parent?
  • A disobedient child?
  • A difficult neighbor?

We don’t have to go too far in our past to realize that someone somewhere has done us wrong. And sadly, our human nature tempts us to make sure everyone we know – knows it.

Joe’s story is so familiar to you that had I not masked Joe’s true identity, you may have missed the impact of his actions.   You know Joe as Joseph who was engaged to Mary, the future mother of Christ. You know how the story ended – he did indeed marry Mary and become the earthly father of God. But before he was convinced by an angel that this union was of God (Matthew 1), Joseph fully believed that Mary had been unfaithful and that a divorce was required. But it’s not the impending divorce that is significant but the manner in which Joseph desired to handle it:

Quietly.

Did you catch that?    Without.fanfare.

Matthew shares the details in chapter one of the book bearing his name,  “Now the birth of Jesus Christ was as follows: when His mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child by the Holy Spirit. And Joseph her husband, being a righteous man and not wanting to disgrace her, planned to send her away secretly.” (Matthew 1:18-19)

Who responds like that?? Instead of seeking revenge, he chose to protect. Instead of broadcasting her “sin,” he chose to keep it secret. She was on the verge of being DISgraced and Joseph simply removed the DIS.  From a human vantage point, she deserved the judge’s gavel, instead he gave her heavenly grace.  And he chose to handle it privately – even in the midst of a tight-knit community.

Does that describe your heart?  Not wanting to disgrace the one who disgraced you?
Would you send those who wronged you… away… secretly?    Do you?

As people, we tend to keep the things WE have done wrong under lock and key.  If it’s OUR dirty little secret, we are Fort Knox in how it’s protected. By contrast, if it’s someone else’s failure, we become the New York Times. We tend do whatever we can to bring our sins to the grave while broadcasting the sins of others on Satellite radio.

Joseph is different. He chooses to keep secret what Mary had (in his mind) done wrong. This response would not only be unusual in Joseph’s day – it’s just as unusual in ours. How many scorned wives are quick to share the stories about their husband’s failures to anyone who will listen?  How many betrayed ex-husbands search for ways to speak ill about the sins of the ex-wife? And yet, somehow, Joseph doesn’t take the bait. It’s not like he didn’t have motivation. It’s not like he lacked ammunition. It’s not like he wouldn’t have the full support of the entire community on his side. And yet, his response is so counter to what most of us would do or (ahem) have done.

How is he able to respond in such a gracious way?  What kind of man can react like this to such betrayal?  Who possesses such self-control?   Again, the text reveals who:

“A righteous man.”   (Matthew 1:19)

Gulp.

In this brief description, we find the true hypocrisy lodged deep within our own hearts. We are quick to crucify the ones who disgrace us and yet justify our attempts to disgrace them in return.  When we trash someone’s reputation for past sins against us, are we really any better simply because they sinned differently?   Joseph was wronged (in his mind) and yet chose to do right in spite of it. Being wronged did not give him the freedom, as a man of character, to justify the loose lips that gossip ultimately encourages, even if the gossip was true.

As I think about our current culture of divorce and revenge, Joseph’s example provides at least 3 reasons why a quiet divorce is a better divorce:

1) It is the most honoring way to treat the other party. Long before Jesus shared the “Golden Rule” with his disciples in the famous Sermon on the Mount, his father had lived out this principle with His mother, “Treat others the way you want to be treated.”  There is not a one of us who wouldn’t love to be in the position to receive quiet grace after we have broken a loud law. Joseph extended this grace to Mary and allowed her an opportunity to experience as much anonymity as he could give in an environment of inevitable exposure.

2) It creates the possibility for a comeback. Imagine that Joseph told the entire village what had happened. Imagine that the entire community knew of Mary’s apparent infidelity and already judged her in the court of public opinion. How hard would it be for Mary to come back with dignity? How hard would it be for Joseph to have a change of mind and reconsider making the relationship work? More importantly in this situation, how hard would it be for those same people to ultimately believe in the coming Messiah, if they were first led to believe Christ’s existence was merely the consequence of an adulterous affair?

3) It reveals a different spirit & inner strength that lives within you. Anyone can cry foul. Anyone can gossip, slander and bring public humiliation to a public sin. Anyone can get the masses to support you in how you have been wronged. But it takes a true person of character to remain silent in the midst of injustice. It shows an amazing depth of integrity to try to protect the one who wronged you.   Yes, they may deserve a public thrashing but does that mean we have to provide one?

Joseph aimed to protect Mary and deflect her shame not because she deserved it but because he was righteous.   In other words, his reaction was based on his character, not hers.

I’m not suggesting that you need to suffer in silence just to protect the perpetrator of your pain. I’m not saying you can’t share your story with a counselor, friend or family member. But I would say the people you choose to share with should be a trusted few and in a position to help you carry the emotional load. Many times sharing your pain with the masses (or children – NO!) creates more damage than the initial wrong done to you.  Sharing with one close friend is one thing.  Sharing it on your public social media wall is another.

As you process the wrong done to you, be careful not to do wrong in retaliation.  It’s easy to verbally hang someone in the public square.   What’s easy and right are often too different things.   Treat people the way you want to be treated.

“Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse…Never pay back evil for evil to anyone. Respect what is right in the sight of all men. If possible, as far as it depends on you, be at peace with all men. Never take your own revenge, but leave room for the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is Mine, I will repay,” says the Lord. “But if your enemy is hungry, feed hi, and if he is thirsty, give him a drink; for in so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.  Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”  (Romans 12:14, 17-21)  

 

#imykd

God in our playpen

rod artersIf you grew up in America, you have probably heard someone say at some point… “Jesus loves you.”

If you have watched any significant sporting event in this country, you have probably seen some Christian fanatic holding up a sign that reads “John 3:16” – the verse that proclaims, “God so loved the world…”

If you have watched the Oscars or Grammys or any television award show, you have heard our American idols thanking the Almighty for their gifts and successes.

If you have driven on nearly any road anywhere in our country (particularly the South) you have no doubt passed a Church with a sign that reads some sort of creative Christian message.

And if somehow you were insulated from such Christian landscape, you would certainly see a posting on some social media site thanking God, asking for prayer or sharing a meaningful Bible verse.  Such is the blessing of living in a country with so much “Light.”

In spite of all of this, however, it is still possible for someone to grow up in “Christian” America and not hear or understand certain biblical truths often taken for granted by those of us who grew up in Christian homes or attending Christian churches.

Our lack of Biblical literacy is stunning.  Though our country has been deeply influenced by Biblical language and references, many today are unaware when they are mentioned.

In Jay Leno’s popular segment “Jay-walking”, Leno asks average people on the street a variety of seemingly easy questions.  Their answers reveal their biblical ignorance.

  • Leno: “Can you name one of the 10 commandments?”
  • Girl: “Freedom of Speech?”
  • Leno: “What is the opening line of the Bible?”
  • Guy: “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.”

Leonard Cohen’s 1984 song “Hallelujah” (recently re-done by Rufus Wainwright) is another example.  The lyrics contain clear biblical references to both King David and Samson, though those without a biblical knowledge would miss it.

Movie directors will occasionally highlight a biblical event (like the Flood in Genesis 6) but unfortunately those who see Hollywood’s recent version of Noah may not realize the gross inaccuracies unless they are familiar with the biblical account.   Click here for a trusted review.

Many cultural phrases find their root in the Bible.  Many have heard the phrase even as they are unaware of its biblical reference.

  • “My brother’s keeper” – Genesis 4:9
  • “Handwriting on the wall” – Daniel 5:5
  • “Eat, drink and be merry” – Ecclesiastes 8:15
  • “Go the extra mile” – Matthew 5:41
  • “Blind leading the blind” – Matthew 15:14
  •  “Good Samaritan” – Luke 10:25-37
  • “Thorn in the flesh” – II Corinthians 12:7
  • “Walk on water” – Mark 6:45-52

To our grandparents, “King James” would have been a reference to the Bible.  Today, it’s a clear reference to a professional basketball player.

The irony is that the Bible continues to be the greatest selling book of all time.  A Gallup study claims that 93% of Americans have at least one copy in their home.  YouVersion’s Bible App has well over 100 million downloads.  The implication is that over 100 million people are walking around with a Bible in their pocket.  We may possess a Bible but unfortunately, it clearly does not possess us.

I was reminded of this recently when I received a phone call from a man named “Sam” who I had met from my time in jail.   Sam was an interesting character.  Numerous times, he seemed on the verge of “snapping.”  Jail is a place where that is not entirely uncommon.  Sam spent a lot of time alone, walking “the yard” in endless circles.  One particular day, he seemed extremely unglued.   Realizing that he was hurting and spiraling out of control, I approached him and began a conversation.   That conversation led to a friendship and that friendship has, over the ensuing months, led to several conversations.  In our last one, he asked me an interesting question.

“Rod, I get that God loves me.  At least that’s I hear.  What I don’t get is why He had to die.   And how does His death have anything to do with me?”

On one hand, I was stunned.   Here is a man, in his early 50’s who grew up (of all places) in the South.  In fact, he was raised not only in the “Bible Belt” but pretty much on the buckle!   And he had no idea why Jesus died and what it had to do with him.  In my conversation I reviewed both the good and bad news about our spiritual situation and why Jesus’ death has profound significance on every human life; past, present and future.  It wasn’t until I shared the following illustration that the lights seemed to go on in his head.

IFSuppose a young child is wearing nothing but a diaper as he sits unsupervised in his playpen.  After awhile the child discovers how to remove his diaper and does so with great satisfaction.  Enjoying his newfound freedom, the child explores the boundaries of his playpen when he eventually discovers an interesting brown object on the playpen floor.  Unaware that the brown object is his most recent bowel movement, he picks it up.  By the time he realizes that this is not a toy or something he really wants to touch, it’s too late.  It is now on his hands and consequently everything else he touches is soon tainted with the disgusting substance.  If that wasn’t bad enough, the smell that accompanies his decision is a constant reminder of his situation.  In fact, the more the child tries to rid himself of the stinky substance, the worse his situation becomes.  Even if the child could ignore his plight, cover himself with perfume or perform a number of good works to make himself feel better, the reality remains – he is still hopelessly covered in a mess of his doing.  In a very little time, the child and his environment are completely covered in “sin” with no ability to clean himself or his world.   The longer he remains in it the worse it becomes.  The child is in need of a savior, someone outside his world who is pure, clean and able to save him.   Eventually, driven by his great need, the child does what anyone in his situation would do – cry for help.  The more frustrated he is with his predicament, the louder and longer he cries.  Fortunately, the child’s Father is nearby – just one prayer away – and not only willing but able to save His child from himself and his sinful mess.

And what is the Father’s motivation?  Duty?  Obligation?  Exhaustion from hearing him cry?   Money?  Future promises of change?   Praise?   Nah, this Father is not enticed by anything like that.

His motivation is much simpler.  In a word:

LOVE.

The truth is, we all live in the playpen. We all have taken off the diaper and have touched things we shouldn’t have.  We all are hopelessly trying to deal with a mess we are incapable of fixing on our own.  As the Bible states, “we all like sheep have gone astray.”

Some have only strayed down the street.  Others of us have left the country for years.  Regardless, every one of us is spiritually homeless, morally bankrupt and longing to find our way home.  We are all in need of a Savior.  We desperately need someone to climb into our playpen and clean up our messy situation.

That’s what today, Good Friday, is about.

It’s about a God-Man who couldn’t stand to see His children sitting in the playpen alone.   It crushed His heart to see the crown of His creation hurting and helpless.  As a Heavenly Parent, He came to Earth, entered the playpen and took on our spiritual crap.

And what did He find in the playpen?   You, me and everyone else we know.   He found absolute physical, moral, spiritual, and relational filth – in every corner.   Murderers, rapists, disease, adulterers, blindness, tax cheats, prostitutes, corrupted priests, atheists, pornographers, deafness, child molesters, thieves, leprosy, pimps, death, human traffickers, liars, demon possessed, Pharisees, etc.  The list is as long as it is ugly.

And here is the best part.

He didn’t enter the playpen because of our cuteness.  He didn’t enter because of our promises or good works or religious track record.  (Titus 3:1-7)  He didn’t enter because our parents gave money or our Grandmother prays to dead saints.  Nope, He didn’t enter because of the relationship we had with Him.   Instead, He entered our playpen because of the relationship He wanted.

He so loved that miserable, wretched, messy, sinful child while I was still in that miserable, wretched, messy, sinful condition and loved me out of it in spite of myself.

That is what Good Friday is about.   A God who climbs in our disgusting playpen, cleans us up and gives us the ability to have not only a new life (II Corinthians 5:17) – but an abundant one as well. (John 10:10)

It IS a Good Friday indeed.

Names will never hurt me?

sticks and stones“Sticks and stones can break my bones but names will never hurt me”.

The year was 2nd grade and I clearly remember chanting this well known proverb at some kid on the playground as a rebuttal for the names he was calling me.  If memory serves me right, I think he called me fat.  I may have been many things in my life, but fat was never one of them.  I grew up as a stunt double for a string bean.

Years later, I still remember the hurtful words and the sting I felt as they were hurled my direction.   As I look back at that proverb, I realize now it was a lie. Names do hurt – sometimes even more than a stick or a stone.  And sometimes – the names that hurt the most are not the names that are true – but the names that are not.  No one likes to be called a name but worse than that, no one likes to be misrepresented or have our character or integrity questioned.

Years ago I wrote an article for a local Christian magazine that clearly upset one of its subscribers.  This reader, a woman, wrote a long, nasty letter to my editor complaining about my article and was outraged that I would be given such a broad audience given my particular views.   In fact, before this Mom had signed her name, she placed my influence in the same dangerous category as cult leaders Jim Jones and David Koresh and serial killer, Charles Manson.   What a group to be associated with!   I marveled at how one person (me!) could be viewed so differently.   To most, I was a Christian writer merely trying to encourage the masses in their journey.   To her, I was contemporaries with psychopathic murderers promoting dangerous ideologies.

This dichotomy drew my attention to the Person of Christ.   There is no Person in history that had a more polarizing effect on those He encountered.  Surely He would understand the frustration of misrepresentation:

  • The holy One was confused for the evil one (Matthew 12:24).
  • The heavenly One was assumed to be a mere earthling (Matthew 16:14).
  • The Lord of the Sabbath was accused of being a Sabbath breaker (Mark 3:1-6).
  • The Truth (John 14:6) was called a liar (Mark 2:6).
  • The Innocent (Luke 23:30) was declared guilty.
  • He created the world (John 1:3, Hebrews 1:2, Colossians 1:16-17) that rejected Him.
  • He governed the universe (Hebrews 1:3, Colossians 1:17) while allowing a corrupt political system to govern Him (John 18:12).

If anyone understands misrepresentation, it is Christ.   If anyone can empathize with a maligned character, He can.  If anyone knows how it feels to have His words twisted, His commands misunderstood and His actions misinterpreted, He gets it.  And how did He handle this constant frustration?   How did He deal with such gross injustice from such an inferior and ignorant people?

With silence.  (Mark 14:61)

The all-powerful God of the Universe chose silence.

No excuses.   No defense.  No justification.  No rebuttal.  No cross examination.   No name calling.  No sarcastic retort.   No biting criticism.   No cursing.   No complaints.  No bargaining.  No threats.   Not even a disrespectful question.

Just a holy, deafening silence.

But why?

Why not defend Himself – especially when He was on trial with a charge punishable by death?

Why not explain His actions with His intimidating, thunderous voice?

Why wouldn’t He reinforce His words with a flash of lightning or some show of power?

Why not turn His accusers into a newt?

In other words, why wouldn’t He handle this injustice in the same way any of us would?    I can only come to one conclusion.

Trust.

He simply trusted God to vindicate His situation.   He was confident that God, in His timing, could right His wrongs.  God, somehow, would be His sufficient defense.   He took His Father at His word, “It is mine to avenge; I will repay.” (Deuteronomy 32:35)

There is nothing more carnal and natural in the heart of man than revenge.  There is nothing more gratifying to the flesh than paying back an immediate wrong – especially if the payback is verbal.   And when we enter the revenge business, we immediately stop walking by the Spirit and begin walking in the flesh.   We stop living by faith and we start living by sight.   Revenge is what anyone can do in their own power.  It’s the natural bent of a natural heart.  But trusting God to handle it, in HIS time, in His way – that takes a level of dependence and obedience and trust that only those who walk in the Spirit can pull off.   This was not only Christ’s desire but His only plan – a plan that defies reason, logic and sense to flesh walkers.

How many of us have been mistreated by a boss or co-worker?  How many of us have endured the abuse of a parent, spouse or ex?   How many of us have been disrespected by our children or a neighbor or a stranger?  How many have had things said about us in court (even the court of public opinion) that simply are not true or entirely accurate?   Have you been called a name recently?  Has someone said untrue things about you?  Has your character been assassinated or your integrity questioned?  Has someone doubted your word or accused you of wrong doing?  Have you or your actions been misinterpreted or misrepresented?

You’re in good company.

As Solomon once penned, “There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven— A time to be silent and a time to speak.” (Ecclesiastes 3:1, 7)

Perhaps it’s time to grab the dusty weapon of silence off your shelf and see what God can do with it when you keep your mouth shut.

His words, not yours, are life-giving and can change hearts, minds, lives, nations and events like NOTHING else.

Trust Him in the silence.

 

Bloom where planted

Booking.

When you hear this word, most people think of airline tickets, hotel rooms and rental cars.  For those of us who do public speaking, “booking” a speaking engagement is common vernacular.   These days, however, the word ushers in a completely new concept for me.

Booking is not just a verb but a noun, a place you are taken immediately after being arrested.   Every few minutes a police car pulls up to the station and drops more “criminals” off to be “booked.”   It is a place packed with people and humming with activity.   While the authorities are removing your handcuffs, they are asking you questions.   While you are answering questions, everyone in booking is listening.   It is at this point you come to terms with the reality that privacy is now a luxury you no longer have access to.

As an avid people watcher, I found booking to be the ultimate place to observe human behavior.   It was a place where I could stare at humanity in all its glory and get away with it.   I took full advantage of this as I assumed (correctly) that staring would not be tolerated once I entered the general population part of the prison.  Like a mall, booking was packed with people of all shapes and sizes.   Like an airport, you are frisked and searched for dangerous items.  Like the DMV, you sit around for hours (I was there for 8), going absolutely nowhere.   Booking is the purgatory between crime and punishment.

My handcuffs were apparently brand new as the officers had extreme difficulty removing them from my wrists.   The first officer tried to remove them with his key.  They simply would not open.   Then another officer attempted (unsuccessfully) with the same key.   Finally, a Sargeant came over and used his master-key to no avail.   It went from being a simple, routine task to a challenging game.  The more they tugged and pulled, the tighter the handcuffs became around my wrist.  As I tried to remain anonymous and draw little attention to myself, everyone in booking (from cop to criminal) is staring at the man eternally bound in chains.  So much for me getting through booking incognito.   God, I remembered, never prefers His saints to be anonymous – especially during life’s trials.   As I stood there, in chains, amused by this situation, three words entered my head.   Odd words, I thought, as they settled into my conscience.

“Bloom where planted.”

What?   I almost laughed out loud.

Where did THAT thought come from?

In typical human fashion, I began to silently reason with the Lord:

“Bloom where planted?   That’s your message for me?   Bloom here?   Bloom in jail?   Come on, You can’t be serious.   This place is depressing.  This place is about survival.   And not only am I in jail, but at the moment, Lord, I’m in cuffs and no one can seem to get me out of them.”

In typical God fashion, He was quiet and the words remained:

“Bloom where planted.”

The words were simultaneously a comfort to me as well as a challenge.   They would become my silent, daily mantra for the next 93 days of captivity.

After a solid 15 minutes of failed attempts to release me, another Sargeant brought out a giant bolt cutter.   Needless to say, I was not excited to see this option.   By now, the cuffs were so tight around my wrist that it would take the precision of a surgeon with a carefully wielded scalpel to remove these things without injury.   Unfortunately, a surgeon or scalpel were not present but rather a bulky 250lb officer with the dexterity of a small Hippo.   This guy is going to cut me free with a giant bolt cutter a few centimeters from my radial artery??

I began to question the command.   Did God say bloom or bleed?   Maybe I heard Him wrong!?   Maybe it wasn’t His voice at all!   Nervously, I made a few jokes, got everyone in earshot laughing, and the cuffs were finally removed from my wrists, without incident.

For the next few hours, I found myself having numerous conversations with my fellow convicts as we sat in the “holding tank,” waiting to be processed.   One guy told me about the last time he was in jail and how he was jumped by three men.   Not exactly the kind of story I wanted to hear just minutes into my first “rodeo.”   Another inmate told me the details of his arrest and the brief pursuit prior to his capture.   I heard about previous crimes, previous arrests, previous stints in jail.   The stories in jail are as endless as they are entertaining.  Each night it was like listening to a different bedtime story shared by Jack the Ripper.   It’s the equivalent of hearing a ghost story at night in a haunted house.   It’s hard to get a good night’s sleep when your cell is less than 20 feet from a convicted murderer.

As I sat in jail, night after night, reflecting on my environment and the odd challenge to bloom, I thought a lot about plants and personal growth.  In order for most plants to “bloom,” it is commonly accepted that you need water, air, sunshine and nutrients.   But what does it take to grow personally?   What does personal growth look like in jail?   Jail is clearly a place that is more about surviving than thriving and yet somehow I am challenged with the goal to “bloom.”

As I served my time in one of the most depressing places on earth, I came to realize (first-hand) how possible it is to thrive in an environment that is capable of destroying you.  Jail is society’s ultimate rejection.  It is the place where the law and its enforcing court deems you unfit to live among everyone else.   Simply punitive, there is nothing restorative about being “locked up.”   Whereas many inmates could use rehabilitation, prison isn’t designed for that.  It simply separates you from the “good” and encourages you to develop a stronger bond with the “bad.”   Three of my roommates were meth manufacturers who were more than willing to share their perfected recipes in case I wanted to start a new career.  (I do not).   One roommate was busted for a significant shoplifting ring at Wal-mart.   He was quick to share his trade secrets with me.  In fact, by the time I was done picking his brain on the operation, I felt fully confident that I too could rob the local Wal-mart if I wanted to.  (I do not).

As I thought about my environment and the seemingly impossible challenge before me, I looked back through Scripture to see who else “bloomed where planted.”  Not surprisingly, there were no shortage of examples:

  • Abram bloomed trusting an unknown God with an unclear plan. (Genesis 12)
  • Leah bloomed in a loveless marriage. (Genesis 29-31)
  • Joseph bloomed in prison.  (Genesis 39-41)
  • Gideon, though severely outnumbered, bloomed in war. (Judges 7)
  • Ruth bloomed as a widow in a foreign land.  (Ruth 1-4)
  • Nehemiah’s leadership bloomed amidst opposition. (Nehemiah 4-6)
  • Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego bloomed in captivity.  (Daniel 1:8-20)
  • Daniel bloomed in a lion’s den. (Daniel 6:16-28)
  • Peter bloomed after experiencing humiliating failure (John 13:21-36, 18:25-27, 21:15-19)

As you read the Bible or spend time hearing any stories of the saints throughout history, you see the same pattern emerge.  God often places His people in soil and conditions not conducive for growth with the never-changing command to “Bloom.”

Why?

If God wants us to bloom, why does He not just make all the conditions ideal for such Bloom where plantedgrowth to occur?   No one plants a flower in rocky soil in the desert with the expectation of growth.   If God wants us to succeed and “knows the plans He has for us, plans to prosper us and not to harm us, plans to give us a hope and a future” (Jeremiah 29:17) then WHY does He often place us in positions where blooming is the least likely thing to happen?

How can He expect us to bloom with a cancer diagnosis, divorce papers and unemployment checks?   How can we expect to grow to our potential when we are physically disabled, emotionally devastated and financially ruined?   How are we supposed to thrive while dealing with flat tires, broken bones and eviction notices?  Either He is an insensitive God who is impervious to our abilities and feelings, or He knows something about growth that we are quick to forget.

Blooming, in God’s economy, has less to do with the soil in which you are planted and more to do with the Planter.   Blooming can occur in the harshest of conditions because the conditions do not create the bloom God desires.   The condition of the garden does not matter.  The conditioning of the Gardener does.

Of over 800 inmates in the jail, I was chosen to join an elite group of 45 men who were granted the privilege to serve in a trustee program that would cut our sentence in half.   (BLOOM)  Of the dozens of positions I could have been given in the jail, I was one of two men chosen to work in the popular laundry room.  (BLOOM).   Of the 2 shifts I could have been given, I was selected to work the night shift giving me access to numerous perks and people like no other inmate in the facility.  (BLOOM)  Because I worked alone at night, it afforded me time to think and pray and do things that other inmates could not do in the chaotic daytime schedule of prison.  (BLOOM).   While I worked, these lyrics constantly popped into my mind:

“When Darkness seems to hide His face, I rest on His unchanging grace
In every high and stormy gale, My anchor holds within the veil
Christ alone; cornerstone.  Weak made strong; in the Saviour’s love
Through the storm, He is Lord.  Lord of all”

The words resonated with me.   This was a place where “darkness seemed to hide His face” and yet I was somehow able to rest in His grace.  (BLOOM).   Jail felt like a “high and stormy gale” and yet I was “anchored within the veil”  (BLOOM).   Christ alone was my cornerstone.   A weak incarcerated man was made strong by His love.   Through my storm, He was still Lord – of it all.   (BLOOM)

As I served the Lord in jail, I realized I was a free man – much more free than many in the free world.   God told me to bloom where I was planted and then, in His grace, enabled the bloom.

How about you?   Where are you planted?   Are you blooming?   If not, spend less time focused on the garden and more time focused on the Gardener.    It’s the only way for you to bloom.

“I planted, Apollos watered, but God was causing the growth.  So then neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but God who causes the growth.” (Apostle Paul, I Corinthians 3:6)

Painting by Michelle Neese
Painting by Michelle Neese

The price of admission

IMG_0506If you have ever been to the deli counter of a grocery store or visited your local D.M.V. (Department of Motor Vehicles), you have – no doubt – had to take a ticket with a number on it.  This number is used to determine who is “next” in line.   The longer the line, the more important the number is to the holder.   Nobody likes to wait in a line, particularly a long one.   However, having a number and being treated like one are two different experiences.

Last year, I entered the doors of a local establishment and was given a number.   In fact, to this day – I still remember it.

#206208.

For me, this number was not merely a number.   In fact, for three months of my life – it became my identity.   Not only was I identified by a number but it is safe to say I was treated like one.   Being treated like a number tends to be the experience of anyone who finds themselves incarcerated.

I have been called a lot of things in my life even respectable titles like “Dad,” or “Coach,” or “Christian.”   One title I never thought I’d have attributed to me was that of “inmate.”   One minute, I’m in a court room trying to plead my case to a family court judge.  The next minute I am handcuffed and in custody.  I may be guilty of a lot of things but no one will ever find me guilty of living a dull life.

Throughout the difficulties of life there are many among us who have found themselves associated with a title they never desired or expected:

  • Divorcee
  • Addict
  • Adulterer
  • Cancer patient
  • Widow
  • Inmate
  • Amputee
  • Handicapped
  • Orphan
  • Barren

Each title listed above automatically grants admission into a group one never wants to be a part of.   No little boy wants to be an inmate when he grows up.   No one at the marriage altar looks forward to the day they can serve divorce papers to their spouse.   No child, at any age, is prepared for living life without a parent.   The soldier who marches patriotically into enemy territory does not expect to come home without a leg.   It is safe to say that nobody wants to be a member of any of these painful groups.

But then life happens.

Unplanned tragedies.   Poor choices.   Moral failures.   Unwanted situations.    Experimenting turned into addiction.   Smoking turned into cancer.   Diving into the lake turned into paralysis.   Friendship turned into an affair.   Suddenly, we all find ourselves in a group we never want to be involved with, whether we are the perpetrator, the victim or the innocent families of either.

Years ago, a close friend of mine had been diagnosed with cancer.  After chemotherapy, radiation, dietary changes and prayer, she eventually found herself in the fortunate category of survivor and was invited to join a local support group.   This group was unique and had two prerequisites for entry:

  1. You had to have cancer in your past medical history.
  2. It had to be completely removed or in remission.   In other words, you had to be given “tabula rasa” – a clean slate.

Like it or not, we are all part of a group – even if it’s not one you want to be in.   In fact, you are not alone.  The biblical characters that came before you had membership in their own painful groups.   Consider…

  • Because of the sin of Cain,  he and his family became “restless wanderers.”  There are many out there today who relate to the feelings of excommunication because of their past behavior.
  • Abraham & Sarah were in the “Parenting 101” group.  Though they longed to be parents, they did not expect it to begin at age 100.   Had it been up to them, the parenting group they wanted to join would have started 25 years before this one.
  • Mary was in the unplanned pregnancy group, a scandalous membership – especially for her in the day and age she lived in.
  • King David was a member (if not the President) of a number of terrible groups; adulterers anonymous, murderers-R-Us & the absentee dad group.
  • Countless women (Michal, Anna, Hannah, etc.) knew the shame of barrenness and no woman of child-bearing age in that culture wanted to be in that group.
  • Mephibosheth understood the difficulty of being in a handicapped group, especially in a world that did not have such convenient inventions like crutches, wheelchairs or walkers.
  • Joseph, Peter and Paul (to name a few) understood the stigma of having a record, even if their crimes were not considered heinous.
  • The woman at the well (John 4) knew her membership was secure in the immoral group she was in.   Sadly, so did the rest of the village.

What group are you in?   Are you there because of your selfishness or from the selfishness of others?   How have you viewed your membership?   If you’re like most people, you complain about the group God assigned you.   Humanly speaking, it makes sense.   Who really WANTS to be in a group known for losing a spouse?   Who would choose to be a part of a group that’s missing a limb or handicapped in some way?   Can anyone really be proud that they’re part of an anonymous group whether it be for alcohol, gambling or sex?   The adjective “anonymous” reveals our shame.   Most of us, if we are honest, want to be a part of the young, healthy, wealthy, no-regret groups and sadly those groups are small in number and few and far between – if they even exist at all.   For the rest of us, we are part of a group that is difficult to admit to and even harder to attend.

My friend with cancer told me something interesting, months after being part of the cancer survivor support group.  “Rod,” she said, “before cancer, I would not have been invited to join a group like this, but now that I have had it and survived, I’m able to encourage others who are afflicted in a way I never could have before.”   Her cancer, she realized, was not just about her.   She wasn’t in this group as a victim of a Divine punishment or as a result of a bad habit but rather as a representative of love and encouragement for those similarly impacted who desperately needed some help and hope from someone who truly understood their plight.

A few weeks ago I had an appointment in a local cafe with one of the waitresses.   She had contacted my company looking for some health insurance and it was my job to meet with her and determine her eligibility.   Before I could provide her with a quote, I had to ask a few personal questions.   These basic questions, unexpectedly, began to peel back an onion of pain in her life.   She was hesitant.   She seemed uncomfortable.  There was clearly something in her past that she did not want me to know.   Instinctively, I knew what it was.   A few more questions later and she finally felt comfortable to reveal her “group” – she had been incarcerated and that experience put her in a position that has made it very difficult to get back on her feet.   As we met, there seemed to be a great chasm between our two worlds.   She was a struggling waitress barely able to make ends meet.  I appeared to be successful insurance salesman dressed in my professional business attire.    Little did she know that a year ago I too was incarcerated.   Little did she know that I too had come out of jail – virtually homeless.  Little did she know that I understand what it is like to rebuild a life, wrestle with the stigma of being in jail and struggle on a core level emotionally, relationally and financially because of the life-changing experience.   As the conversation continued, I could literally feel her shame.   She had just admitted an extremely personal and embarrassing fact about her past to someone she thought may judge her for it.   After my quote was finished and my work with her was done, I sat in the cafe for a few minutes and waited for my opportunity.   This poor girl needed to know that she was not alone.   I had to tell her that she was not the only one who was a part of this shameful group.   She came back to my table and I asked her to sit down again.   She assumed it was insurance related.  It was not.  It was time to bring some healing to her frightened soul.  On my phone I pulled up a picture of myself – from my past.   She recognized the image and immediately realized the implication.  The picture was of my mug shot, my membership into her shameful group.   Without words, she knew what I was saying.   She understood that I understood.   Her mouth dropped.   Her entire demeanor changed.  A enormous sense of relief came over her entire body.   She was not in the presence of some super successful insurance never-made-any-mistake-in-his-life salesman.  She was sitting next to an ex-con brother who understood not just her chains but her shames.   She was overwhelmed with emotion and let out two words that seemed to sum up her relief,

“NO S@%T!”

We laughed, shared some stories and moved on with our day.   The group we were a part of was now no longer a group of shame but one of encouragement and hope.   That’s the beauty of the group experience.  For many, it is the first time you come to realize: “I AM NOT ALONE.”  It does not condone the reason you joined it – it merely validates your current membership in it.   Once you’re in, it doesn’t matter how or why you got there.  What really matters is how you are growing personally and helping those in the room with you.   Some people need you.  You will need others.  If you are open about your presence in the group and lift the veil of shame long enough to admit you are a card-carrying member, much good can be done in the midst of it, for you and others.

What group are you in?   A group of adulterers or the ones victimized by it?   Is your group filled with parents who lost a child or ones who can not conceive one?   Perhaps your group is filled with members struggling with a physical pain?   Or a mental disorder?  Whether you are a burned out Pastor or a used up prostitute, there is a group for you.   Whether you are a recovering pornographer or a former Pharisee, there are others out there who relate to your past and situation and desperately need to hear your story.    It’s hard to join a group associated with a painful past.   It’s even harder to live without the support of others who understand it.

When the Apostle Paul was writing a letter to the church in Corinthians, he addressed, indirectly, the reason why we need groups like this.   If you have been through “hell and back,” and wonder why certain things happened to you – perhaps this perspective will help.   Maybe it was never just about you.   Maybe you went through it simply to help another struggling soul get through it as well.

“Praise be to the God… the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort,  who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.”

Embrace your group.    Share your story.    Comfort others.    Repeat.

READ MY $%@#& BLOG!!

cursingWhen I was about 13 years of age, I developed a forked tongue.   At home, I spoke in a manner that was pleasing to my parents.  Outside the home, my vocabulary shrunk and 4 letter words dripped off my tongue like honey.   When I used the forbidden words at school, I thought I was cool.  After all, a lot of my friends spoke the same way.   When I was home, I was nervous that an “F-bomb” would slip out of my mouth and my cover would be blown.   As I look back, this may have been the beginning stages of me eventually living a double life.

As a teenager, I found myself living with a lot of anger – dealing with difficult life circumstances thrust upon me (my Dad’s death, my Mom’s remarriage, moving schools, etc).  I didn’t know how to process it or handle it and my anger and frustration about my situation tempted me to express it verbally with a string of expletives.   In some ways, I felt a sense of control in my decision to curse.  Whereas I could not control the chaos in my home, I could control how I spoke and enjoyed the feeling of being able to say adult words – even when I knew I shouldn’t.   But along the cursing way, something interesting happened…

As I was growing accustomed to cursing, deep down it never made sense to me.   The 4 letter words seemed unnatural coming out of my mouth.  With each word I used, I felt like I was ignoring the intelligent side of my brain.  As I looked at those who cursed around me – they never seemed like the most intelligent in the room.   Slowly, I began to equate ignorance with cursing.  I began to view those that cursed as having a limited vocabulary – and that seemed very unattractive to me – a future wordsmith.   As I cursed, I began to experience this uneasy feeling.  On one hand, I enjoyed the release of anger that the curse words seemed to help with.  On the other hand, I realized that others probably thought I had a limited vocabulary too.   Knowing I did not, this bothered me.

And then one day, I actually thought about what I was saying in the heat of the moment.  This single-handedly stopped me dead in my tracks.   In one enlightening moment, I realized just how silly most of my curse-filled sentences really were.   If you are honest, you have to admit that most of the curse words/phrases that are used are completely nonsensical.   Only when you stop and actually hear what is being said, do you begin to realize just how foolish it sounds, not just to your own ears but undoubtedly to others who are listening.

Here are a few I heard just recently.   Out of respect for others, I will “BLEEP” out the curse word.   You get the idea…

  • “That tastes like (BLEEP)!” 
  • “She’s cool as (BLEEP)”  
  • “What the (BLEEP) is he doing?”
  • “What a (BLEEPING) idiot!”
  • God’s name in vain.   (Can someone explain to me why we do this?   Why is God’s name “damned” while Satan, Allah, or Buddha never get cursed out?  Why in the world do we blame God for traffic jams, stubbed toes, missed flights, and bad news?  Even if it was His “fault,” does trashing His name {one of the 10 commandments, mind you} suddenly warm His heart to motivate His help towards our situation?)

I have been on both ends of the foul language spectrum.  I have heard (and given) all the arguments for why cursing is acceptable/necessary, etc.   “Sometimes,” the argument goes, “a curse word is the only thing that can adequately express how you are feeling in that instance.”   While I understand the sentiment behind that statement, I disagree with it wholeheartedly.   It may be your current choice of emotional release but to say it is the ONLY way to communicate in that setting is a cop-out.   When we are upset, frustrated or angry – we tend to justify (in our head) all kinds of actions (smoking, over-eating, physical violence, porn, drinking, gambling, verbal abuse, etc.).   Just because that is how we normally handle our stress does not mean it’s the ONLY way to handle it.   As a recovering curse-aholic – I have come to realize there is a better way.

One of the original purposes of this blog is to provoke thought.  From it’s inception, it has certainly done that as I have received a fair share of criticism for the various opinions I have expressed.   This particular post will be no different as I am knowingly stepping on many people’s idol and common practice.   Even so, I want to leave you with a thought-provoking list of 7 reasons why you shouldn’t be cursing, regardless of who you are or what’s going on around you.

  1. Cursing is inappropriate and offensive.   Granted, not everyone in earshot will find it offensive but across the board – it offends more people than it does not.   For this reason, we tend to find ourselves only cursing in certain environments and around certain people.   How we speak around children, the elderly and authority normally reveals what we think is most appropriate.   Most people will refuse to curse around those three people groups, thus proving my point – cursing is generally inappropriate and offensive.
  2. Cursing is a bad example.   We know this.   This is why we often will change our language around those younger or more impressionable than us.  Deep down, we recognize that what we are doing (or saying) is not “good” and we don’t want to be the one to teach a younger set of ears a certain word/phrase or vocabulary.
  3. Cursing degrades & disrespects your audience.   Words are like toothpaste, once they are out of the “tube,” you can never take them back.   Negative words have the power to really destroy someone’s morale, esteem & confidence.  Since cursing normally occurs during a time of extreme frustration or anger, this is why we like to use them.  It is our way of not only releasing our pent up anger, but we can hurt our intended target much quicker with a few choice words.   But consider what happens in the process when you choose to curse at someone.   The reason you are tempted to curse is usually because they hurt or frustrated you with something they said or did.   Intentionally or unintentionally, their hurtful words or actions created in you a desire to hurt back.  Unfortunately, this is human nature: hurt people hurt people.   Even if what they did/said was intentional, how does retaliating with negative words help the situation or the relationship?  It merely exasperates the situation, complicates the solution and further alienates the relationship.   Instead of choosing to take the harder moral high road, you become just like them – even if your choice of weapon is a bit different.
  4. Cursing points to a diminished intelligence.   Although I know I will receive criticism on this point, hear me out.   Granted, there are many highly intelligent people that curse.  Perhaps this particular point does not apply to you.  However, may I suggest that when we curse we temporarily suspend our intellectual acumen when we use language that reflects a lack of education, vocabulary or intelligence?  Your choice of vulgar words normally points to a diminished intelligence, verbal laziness or darker heart – none of which are very flattering for the intelligent being you think you are.
  5. Cursing is a spiritual barometer.   Jesus made this clear when He said, “A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.”  (Luke 6:45)  In other words, the words we say are drawn from the well of our heart.   Loving words come from a loving heart.  Angry words come from an angry heart.   Impatient words come from an impatient heart.  Nothing reveals what’s going on in our hearts more accurately and consistently than by listening to what is coming out of our mouths.  So, take your spiritual temperature.   What comes out of your mouth most days?   Encouragement?   Love?   Patience?   Praise?   Or is it merely cursing, complaints, crude conversation, etc?   James, the brother of Jesus, said it best, “With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness.  Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be.  Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring?  My brothers and sisters, can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water.” (James 3:9-12)
  6. Cursing enflames conversations.   Throwing water on a fire puts the flames out.  Throwing gasoline on a flame merely creates more heat.   Cursing is the gasoline of conversation.   As Solomon once penned, “A gentle answer turns away wrath but a harsh word stirs up anger.” (Proverbs 15:1)   Talking through opposing opinions is hard enough with kind language.  Why add unnecessary fuelant when water is needed?
  7. Cursing is unnecessary.  Only the proponents of cursing will argue with this point.   What value does cursing bring to any conversation?   There are plenty of words in the English language (or any language for that matter) to express your current level of frustration or anger.  You don’t HAVE TO use the words in the bottom of the vocabulary barrel to communicate your point.

The Bible refers to the tongue as a “restless evil, full of deadly poison.” (James 3:8)  For many, a loose tongue is the epicenter of ruined relationships.   The Greek sage, Publius, once said, “I have often regretted my speech, never my silence.”   How many of us can echo that sentiment?  In the book that bares his name, James warns us to be “quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.” (1:19).  Perhaps we were given two ears and one mouth for a reason.

If you struggle with keeping your tongue in check, remember that language flows from the well of your heart.  Work on your well and begin filling it with better water.   You may have to stop listening to certain music or watching certain shows.  You may have to stop reading certain books or spending time with certain people.  Do whatever it takes to improve your well as you are not the only one who drinks from it.   And consciously change your vocabulary.  Decide now what words you will say when you are triggered to curse.  Instead of using a bad phrase, replace it with a good one.   As unnatural and stupid as it might feel in the beginning, the results are worth the effort.

As many of you know, I used to travel in some pretty judgmental circles.   I used to dwell around “perfect” people.   I was perched atop a pretty high pedestal at one point in my life.  Over time, I became a full-fledged hypocrite and a pretty good Pharisee.   Even though cursing was listed on my moral rap sheet, in typical hypocritical fashion I looked down upon those who cursed.  And then my “perfect” world came crashing down and I was forced to look at my sinful face in a holy mirror.   I realized that I am just a sinful person who happens to struggle like every other person on this planet.  My struggle might be “X” while yours may be “Y” but it doesn’t make one struggle or person better than another.  We all have our struggles and thankfully cursing isn’t my struggle anymore.   It doesn’t have to be yours either.

On a windswept hill in an English country churchyard stands a drab, gray slate tombstone.  The quaint stone bears a sad, yet powerful epitaph.  The faint etchings read:

  • Beneath this stone, a lump of clay,
  • Lies Arabella Young,
  • Who on the twenty-fourth of May,
  • Began to hold her tongue.

Don’t wait for the grave to tame your tongue.  The consequences of loose lips has a price tag you don’t really want to pay.

“Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.” (Ephesians 4:29)

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