God's Tree

There was once a tree, a very special tree, in a very special place. It was by God's own hand, as it always is, that this tree came to be. He ensured that the seed from which it sprouted was deep enough in the earth for its roots to take hold, but not so deep that it could not find its way to the surface. He gave it rain, and sun, but not too much of either. God watched over the small seedling to be sure it was safe. He needed it, you see.

The delicate roots took hold in the rocky soil, spreading out like hair, clasping the earth and drinking in the nutrients of life. God fed the tree by His own hand, and watered it from the rain in His storehouses. He protected it from the animals, sheltered it from the storms, guarded it with His strong right hand. He ensured the trunk was straight and strong, and that the branches sprouted high and wide. He smiled as the birds found shelter in His tree, and the deer found comfort in its shade. It was a good tree. His tree.

Year after year, God cared for His tree. It continued to grow, becoming what God wanted it to be, perfect for His purpose. God visited the tree often, caressing it gently with the breeze of His hand, knowing it was good. It was His creation, His plan, His tree. But there was a sadness about God when He came, a sadness which His angels could not understand. God had planted this tree, cared for it with His own hand. They did not understand the sadness of God, and He could not tell them. Not yet.

Then one day, as God knew they would, men came. Armed with axes, they circled His tree, His most special tree, and nodded to one another. This was the one. It was perfect for their purpose. Just as God had planned.

It happened quickly, as man's harvest often does. Unyielding iron bit into living wood, chopping, severing, killing. God's tree fell with a crash, the birds who called it home fleeing in terror, the deer who sought its shade watching from afar, unsure and afraid. Creation did not understand. But God did. God knew. He had known all along.

The men tore the limbs from the tree, needing only the trunk, strong and straight as God had ensured it would be. Chaining it to their beasts, they dragged it away, leaving behind a ragged stump, bleeding sap into the parched earth below as though God Himself were shedding tears of grief. And perhaps He was.

With the tools of their trade, the men formed and shaped, shaved and sawed, shedding sweat, and blood. When they were done, they stepped back, pleased with their work. This would do. This would do quite well. It was good. Very good.

What they had made, from what God had created, were two wooden beams. One lay atop the other, nestled in a notch cut just so. It had to be, you see, so that it could support the weight. The weight of a man. What man, they did not know. But God knew. He had known all along.

It was His tree, you see. Planted, watered, nurtured and protected by His own hand. For His own purpose. For His own Son. And it was the love He had for even the men who had taken His tree, and made it what it now was, that caused Him to look down, with a tear in His eye, and say, "It is good."

100 Years From Now . . .

I went to a visitation tonight for my Great Aunt. She lived to be 100 years old. Oh, the things she saw in her life! The good, and the bad. The awesome, the mundane. The grief, and the joy. What an amazing life to live.

Consider the past 100 years.

Wars have reshaped the map of the world time and again. Nations have risen, fallen, and risen again.  Alliances have been formed and broken. Enemies are now allies. We have gone from plodding on muddy roads astride horses to riding rockets to the moon. Medicine, communication, work, family, religion--nothing is the same. Change is the only constant.

What changes will the next 100 years bring?

Of course, no one knows. But of this we can be sure--change will come. Will those changes be as drastic as those of the past 100 years? It is hard to imagine, but who can say? How will people communicate and travel? What form will money take? What nations will rise, fall, unite? Will there be another War to end all wars, or unimaginable peace? What role will faith play in peoples lives?

Do we even have 100 years?

Many would say no. They would say that God will pull the plug on this evil world long before then. And I cannot argue--it would seem justified. Were God like me, He would not have tarried this long. But God is not like me. His ways are not my ways. His plan is beyond my understanding. No one can say when His day will come, but know this: It will come. Of that you can be assured.

How will you live?

Consider, for a moment, that you will live to be 100 years old. What do you think you will see? More importantly, how do you want to be remembered?

The Idolatry of Time

Of all my resources, I probably come closest to worshiping time.

The small group I am in just finished the Kyle Idleman series, Gods At War. It was a good, meaning hard-hitting, study. It talks about the different idols we have in our lives: Power; Comfort; Money; etc. One that was not mentioned specifically, but with which I personally struggle, is time.

Time is something you can never get more of. Once it is gone, you can never get it back. Last year, yesterday, a minute ago--they are gone. And I miss them. I mourn for them. I want them back. I struggle with an addiction to time.

An idol is something that takes the place of God.

That is a simple, but to me, effective definition. Here is my struggle: I should follow Philippians 4:13 which says, "I can do all things through Christ Jesus who strengthens me." Instead, I often think, I can do all things if I just had more time." Do you see it? Do you see the idolatry in that? Maybe you don't think that way, but I do. It's a constant battle.

How can time take the place of God? When I say I don't have enough time to serve Him. When time is too important for me to spend an hour in His word. When time becomes a barrier to being with God, then time has become my god. That's scary.

Time is neither good nor evil.

Just like all the other idols Mr Idleman discussed, time is neither inherently good nor inherently evil. Time is a tool, a resource--like money, or food, or a hammer. All of those things can be good or evil, depending on how you use them, how you view them. But when any of those things, or anything else, becomes more important than God, then it begins to take on a new meaning in your life. It becomes an object of worship. An idol. And idols are evil.

You see, it is not time which is wrong or evil, but my view of it. My obsession with it. Time is not the problem. I am.

There is only one solution to idols.

The answer is God, as it always is. God has to be first and foremost in my life. If He does not come first, then I am an idolator, a worshiper of idols. There are consequences to what I choose, but God allows me to make a choice. Him, or something else. It really is that simple.

Everyone worships something.

Whether it be God, money, sex, or time--everyone worships something. It is in our nature, they way we were created. We have a hole that we have to fill with something. Only God can fill that hole completely, but if we do not have Him, we will keep trying to shove something else in there. It is human nature, because God made us that way.

So how about you?

What do you worship, depend on, jealously hold on to in good times and bad? God is the only right answer there. Anything else is an idol.

 

Life Lessons From Soccer

Soccer is hard.
I've played baseball, football, and basketball. I've played around with volleyball, racquetball, and tennis. I've thrown horseshoes, shot skeet, and even tried to hit that little white ball, just to chase it and hit it again. But I didn't know anything about soccer. Guess what sport my kids have picked up on! So, over the past few years, I have had to learn about the game everyone else calls football. You know what I realized right off? Soccer is hard. Really hard. Just like life is sometimes.


It takes heart.

Have you ever played or watched a soccer game? You run, then you sprint, then you turn around and run some more, just so you can sprint again. Oh, and you have to keep track of that round bouncy thing that seems to have a mind of it's own, and the opposing players trying to take it away from you.You get tired. You get frustrated. Sometimes you want to give up. But if you do, you let yourself and your team down. It takes heart. It takes conviction. It's kind of like life that way.

It's a team sport.

No individual can win a soccer game. I realize that is true of most, if not all, team sports. Teamwork is a great life lesson, and one that sports can teach kids and adults alike. Learning to pass the ball, communicate with teammates, work together, win as a team, lose as a team--those lessons matter in life. In soccer, if you cannot play as a team, you will lose. It doesn't matter how good you are--you need your fellow players to get that ball in the goal, and prevent the other team from doing the same. Know anything else in life that's like that?


Sometimes it hurts.

When you play soccer, you are going to get kicked. Hard. You will get knocked down, stepped on, elbowed, pushed, shoved, and otherwise mauled. And that's just normal play! You will twist your ankle, your knee, your back. Your lungs will burn, your legs will feel like jello. And the next day? Don't even think about it! But you do it. You get up, point your hurting self down the field, and go. Sometimes you just have to be a little tougher. Is there something to learn there?

You need a coach.

A coach isn't just someone who knows more than you do, and in fact sometimes they don't. I've helped out coaching kids who know a lot more about the sport than I do. But, standing on the sidelines, I can see things they can't. I get a big-picture view of what's going on. A coach should be more than a teacher, or a loud voice on the sidelines screaming about what you're doing wrong. A good coach teaches the skills needed to play, and points out what the players need to do differently, but he should also encourage, build up, and take care of anyone who gets hurt. We all need coaches in life.

Soccer is a lot like life.

The picture above? That's me and my daughter. She's tired. She's dirty. She's a little banged up. But she's still in the game. Her team needs her just as much as she needs them. And when you do your best for yourself and your team, no matter the score, you walk off that field stronger.

And that, my friends, is what soccer has taught me about life.

The Front of the Bus, The Back of the Church, and the Center of Attention

Where do people want to be?

When it comes to public transportation, most want to be at the front of the bus, where it's easy to get off. When it comes to church, many want to be at the back, where it's easy to get out. And when it comes to attention--well--most want to be right at the center.

That's just a little mixed up.

I am not saying any of those are wrong. It really doesn't matter where you sit on a bus or in church. And if you are naturally charismatic and people are drawn to you, you are going to find yourself at the center of attention. What makes anything wrong, or right, is your attitude and intention

If you are a front of the bus kind of person, why? Is it because your stop is the next one, or because you have trouble walking down the center aisle? Then by all means, look for that first seat. But if you think you deserve that seat, or are entitled to it--that's a horse of a different color.

Have you ever sat down in church just to have someone come and stare at you like you've taken their place at the dinner table? I've even heard of people being asked to move. Um, excuse me--you're in my seat. In church. Where you sit in church really doesn't matter. Unless, of course, your goal is to avoid talking to anyone and getting out of there as quickly as possible so you can move on to more important things. Then it matters. Then it matters a lot.

Motivations matter.

When it comes to our actions, the what is not as important as the why.  Whether you sit in front, in back, or right in the middle--it doesn't matter. Unless. Unless you think, by some obscure hierarchy known only to the enlightened, you deserve that spot of honor. Unless you think, by some divine appointment ordained by God,  you should be the last one seated and the first one to leave. Unless you just like attention. Then--then there's a problem. And it probably comes down to a simple, and ubiquitous, five-lettered word:  P-R-I-D-E.

Think about it.

The next time you get on a bus, or walk into church, think about why as you choose your seat. If you are honest, the answer may surprise you.

Spring Cleaning is Good for the Soul (Even Scooping Poop!)

We have a dog and a small back yard. It's been a long winter. You know what that adds up to? A lot of poop has accumulated. And now that it has warmed up, and things are thawing . . . You get the picture. It's time to do some cleanup in aisle 2.

It's not a glorious task, to be for sure. It requires rubber boots, gloves, and some determination. So, I grabbed a rake and a shovel, aired up the tire on the wheelbarrow, and got started. And you know what? It wasn't so bad. In fact, it got me thinking.

Cleaning up my yard after a long winter is a lot like looking into my life and finding a bunch of stuff that has accumulated there that doesn't really belong. Just like my dog does in my yard, life tends to drop a lot of (insert word here) in my life that just stinks things up. If left laying around, pretty soon the place is uninhabitable. Every time you try to walk around, you step in it. Try to have people over, and everyone gets this funny look on their face. Somebody's got to clean things up. That somebody is me.

So as I was cleaning up the yard, I did some looking around in my soul. And sure enough, I found some (insert word here) laying around that needed to be shoveled out. I won't go into details--I don't need to. We all have it. Pride, anger, self-pity, greed . . . Whatever. It's all the same. It's just (insert word here). It needs to go.

And as I was dumping wheelbarrow loads of old leaves, dead grass, and doggie presents into the compost pile, I had to smile. That (insert word here) was going to become great fertilizer. I was going to put it back in my yard, or my garden, and it would make the flowers and vegetables grow stronger, more beautiful, more bountiful.

Isn't that the way it goes in life? The (insert word here) that life leaves us, if cleaned up and put in the right place, just makes us stronger. It makes us grow. It makes us more productive. Cleaning it up is no fun, but living in the middle of it is even worse. And, in the wonder of God's Creation, it becomes something that just makes us better.

So, as you are out in your yard this Spring, take some time to look around your heart. See if there aren't some stinking piles that need scooped up and dealt with. You just might be surprised at what it will grow.

When a Boy is a Boy No Longer

Spring is the season for many changes. Outside, the weather warms, the snow melts away, and life emerges from the frozen ground. Within our home, Spring brings something else: Birthdays. All three kids have birthdays within 5 weeks. God had a plan!

All of my children are changing, as they tend to do. But, as is natural I suppose, I notice the changes in my oldest the most. He turns 14 today. That awkward age when he is no longer a boy, but not quite a man. I remember those days. They were not easy.

Besides the physical changes, a boy goes through a lot in the process of becoming a man. There is a process of mental, emotional, and spiritual maturing which must take place. Some do it well, others do not. And, quite frankly, some don't do it at all. I have met more than a few who were still boys after 40 years, and some quite longer than that.

I see the changes in my son. He is taking on a new point of view, an attitude of responsibility and accountability. I see this in many ways, but most notably in his spiritual life. He chooses, on his own, to read his Bible. He chooses, on his own, to lead prayers. He chooses, on his own, to take a leadership role with his peers. Those are all admirable traits of which I am proud. They also come with a price.

My son is becoming increasingly dedicated to Christ in a world which is not. And he is getting mature enough to realize it. He has experienced, albeit to a minor degree compared to some, persecution. He has been ridiculed for choosing to do what is right and good when others are following a different path. He has tasted isolation for not joining the crowd. His, being the path of Christ, is not an easy one.

A boy is no longer a boy when life begins to have meaning beyond the moment. I think my son has reached that point. That also means he is now accountable for his actions in the eyes of God. Some call that the age of accountability, and I think that is as good a term as any. It is a monumental point in one's life when you are no longer covered by the innocence of youth, and must have the saving grace of Jesus Christ for redemption. My son has reached that point, and to the best of my knowledge, and by all signs which I see, he is safe and saved. Nothing could make me more proud, or feel more relieved.

My son is no longer my little boy. He is still young, certainly, but before me now stands a young man. I continue to pray that what we read about Samuel in I Samuel 2:26 can be said of my son: And the boy Samuel continued to grow in stature and in favor with the Lord and with men.

That, to me, is when a boy is no longer a boy.

The Unobtainable Allure of Success

What a nebulous vapor is success. She is an apparition never fully formed, a wisp of smoke blown by the winds of desire. Grasp success and she will surely slip away, for she was never really there. Success is an illusion, never once the same, never again what she once was.

Success is undefinable, unobtainable, ever desirable. Never here, but always there, just out of reach. Achieve the mountaintop where success resides, and you shall find that she has flown on wings like an eagle, ever farther, ever higher. From her new vantage will she call, and surely shall you follow. The call of Success is the alluring song of a Siren, and weak is man to resist her charms.

Do not be enamored with Success, for you can never have her. You see, she does not exist. When you think you have her, she will have shifted, changed, become something new. Chasing her is like pursuing shadows, or bridling the sea. She will not obey, she cannot be tamed. She is a harlot, and unfaithful to her core.

Waste not on success; pursue a more noble desire.

Seek to do what is good, and to serve the One who is true. Desire not success, but rather, righteousness. Wrap yourself not in false hope and empty promises, but seek to be clothed with grace and mercy. Fear not failing to succeed, for in your weakness exists the great strength of He who is greater than all.

Success is not worthy of your pursuit. Seek God's will, and His kingdom, and He shall grant the desires of the heart.

Where is Your Treasure Hidden?

Where is your "X?"

You know what this is. Follow the dotted line, facing dangers and peril, and it will lead you to untold riches. Who knows what you may find? Piles of gold? Jewels? Or maybe even something greater?

The truth is, we have all hidden treasure somewhere. It may not be hordes of gold bullion, but each of us has amassed a treasure of our own. It may be money, or perhaps it is knowledge, skills, or influence. Maybe you have invested in relationships, or your job. It could be anything. But whatever it is, you know where it lies. Why? Because you can't stop thinking about. It's true, isn't it?

Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

This little gem of wisdom comes from Jesus in Matthew 6:21. He is saying that wherever you have invested, that is where your focus will be. That is where your thoughts, your efforts, your desires will lead you. You can't help it. And, it's not wrong. It's the way we are wired, the way God made us. That's what Jesus is saying. Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
   
But the question really isn't where is your treasure.

The real question is why. What do I mean? I mean, why are you storing your treasure where you are? Why are you piling money into your 401K, or real estate? Why are you investing in that relationship? Why are you spending so much time learning about that subject? Why are you storing up that kind of treasure?

None of those treasures are bad. Treasures are tools, and as such, can be used for noble and ignoble purposes. As a friend told me recently, "A brick can be used to break a window or build a church." That picture works for me. Treasure, whatever your treasure may be, has no inherent quality of good or bad. It's how you use it that matters.

 Your treasure influences your life.

We are well served to revisit the words of Jesus: Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Continuing that line of thinking, where your heart is, there your actions will be also. We will continue to build up our treasures, wherever and whatever they are. God knows that. That's why he wants us to be so careful with how we go about it.

In the two verses leading up to Matthew 6:21, Jesus tells us to not store up our treasures on earth where they can be destroyed, but rather we should store up for ourselves treasure in heaven. Now I don't believe that means we cannot have worldly wealth. There are many people in the Bible who had worldly wealth who used their money for God's purposes, and found His favor. And they did not have to die poor to find that favor. It wasn't what they had that mattered. It was why and how they used it.

What does it mean to store up treasure in heaven?

I don't know exactly what that means for you, because I believe it is different for everyone.  For some, yes, it may mean giving your money away. Jesus told that to a certain rich young ruler. But that was a specific message to a specific person. You may be different. The question you have to ask is, where is your heart?

When you think about your treasure, do you think about doing God's work, or do you think about earthly security, earthly pleasures, selfish desires? That's where your heart is. And if the compass needle of your heart does not point towards heaven when you think about your treasure, it's time to move it. It won't be easy, but God says that's what you have to do. Whatever it takes to get your compass pointed in the right direction.

So think about it.

What are you working for? What are the desires of your heart? That will tell you where your treasure lies.