Mike Mobley at Before the Cross invited me to guest post, and I describe how my lack of understanding of the Grand Canyon and its beauty relates to my lack of understanding about Jesus and who he is. Here’s a little taste to whet your appetite: I think, for most of us, we treat Jesus a lot like the Grand Canyon. We’ve heard a fair amount of stories. We know he’s a pretty impressive guy. ...
“You’ve got to play the hand you’re dealt.” – Merle, The Walking Dead Is Merle’s quote true? Perhaps, to some degree, in some ways, at some time. But not today. Not any more. Not in the ways that matter most today. No, Merle, not in the slightest. Am I responding to a fictitious character’s quote from a zombie TV show and drawing real-life parallels while we wade through Poker analogies to disprove him? Yes. Let’s talk about how we can get a new hand professionally, relationally and spiritually. ...
I’m forgetful. I’m a very good forgetter of important things. Somehow, I manage to forget some of the most critical parts of my life. Like loving God and my wife. That I’ll die. My life is not a vacation. Simple things that are hard to remember all at once. I decided it was time to write a manifesto. Things I need reminded of daily. Things I know somewhere in the deep recesses of my heart, but that I can’t seem to surface without some brain-jarring via morning reading. I’ve printed this list out to read through each morning, before I do anything else. It takes less than 4 minutes to read aloud and it’s full of truth, high fives and pointer-fingers driven into the chest. It may seem a bit harsh at times, but it’s what I need from myself. Feel free to remind me when you see me forgetting these things. Also, I’d love to hear if you do anything to remind yourself of truth you need to hear each morning. ...
I take things personally far too often. I've known for a long time that I need to just _ get over_ myself and stop taking everything like it’s a personal attack. It’s happened multiple times today already, once over a floor mat. Yes, a floor mat. It’s out of control. It’s difficult to lay down my right to be offended. Everything someone says, does or thinks about me is automatically filtered through my thin skin and the worst is assumed, leading to disgust, bitterness and hurt beyond what is rational. Most of the time, I’m just plain wrong in my initial assumptions and conclusions. [Before we get too far, let me say this post isn’t meant to excuse racism or sexism or any other -ism out there. Of course oppression should be fought against. We’re evaluating taking things personally at a (here it comes) personal level. Attacks based not on your identity, but rather your personality.]  Some things roll off my back with ease–especially when an anonymous poster says something silly on my blog or when someone I don’t know makes a harsh comment (like the time I was partially verbally assaulted at a Czech symphony performance by some teenage kid. Oye). When it comes to people I care about though, it seems like my heart beats outside my skin, completely exposed and easily targeted for unintentional attack. I know I need to believe the best about the people closest to me, but for some reason, I draw conclusions and make unfair inferences that totally miss the mark. ...
One of the most challenging Bible passages to me is in Psalm 1:2. It says: …his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night. I’m deliberate about spending time in God’s Word each morning–a spiritual discipline that’s taken me a long time to develop. I know if I try to tackle my day without feasting on God’s Word, it’s nearly impossible for me to walk in His Spirit. If I go a few days without spending time reading and mediating on the Bible, look out. At that point, my sin has gravitated to the surface and is bursting out of my skin.  Something I’ve done a poor job of is spending time mediating on God’s word at night. First, let’s define what mediation is. I love what John Piper says, ...
There are two critical questions to ask when you’re presented with an idea that calls you to completely reorient your life. Is it true? and Is it worth it?...
There are two analogies that have helped students I work with understand how God reorients someone’s life. To start, God must become our first priority. Before we meet God, our priorities are all out of line. We live for money, travel, massive homes, and then our spouse and maybe our children fall in line later. If we live primarily for something or someone other than God our god can (and will) be stripped away from us. If our spouse is our god, our god can die, or leave us. If our career is our god, we could lose our job and thus lose our god. Any god that isn’t God is temporary and untrustworthy....
Delayed gratification isn’t something we excel at in America, and my generation is particularly bad at waiting. We want to live in the homes our parents saved up for decades to buy as soon as we graduate college. We want the latest Apple product, a big house, five cars, and we want it all right now. I think the hard part of delayed gratification is (wait for it, brilliance coming in 3…2…1…) that the whole gratification process is delayed, as in not instant, not right away, not right this moment. ...
Prayer appears to be the least effective thing we can do. I often think to myself, “God, I have so much work to do today, there’s no way I can make the time to just talk to you.” I couldn’t be more off base with that thought. Prayer is the least utilized yet most powerful weapon in our spiritual life.  We pray to acknowledge our weakness. To ask for God’s strength and power to work through us. To move mountains. To move God. One hundred percent of our prayers are heard by God, and 100% are answered by Him as yes, no, or later. ...
It’s nearly a daily occurrence for me to throw up a half-hearted-mid-chew prayer to God as I eagerly dive into a bowl of Reese’s Puffs. It’s more than a rushed supplication. It’s an indicator of a deeper issue. I’m impatient. I’m too impatient to take a half a minute to thank God for his provision. I’m too impatient to consistently and continually seek God in prayer. I’m too impatient to ignore a phone call or text or tweet, so instead I choose to interrupt a conversation with a real, live human being that I’m talking to face-to-face. I’m too impatient to sit down for 20 minutes and write a single blog post in one sitting (this line is being added in during round three). And I’m certainly far too impatient to deal with customer service over the phone. ...