My 3 Things

After studying, in 1 Peter 1, what Peter felt were the important things he wanted to pass on to others before his exit from his tent, I asked in our fellowship discussion questions “What three important life lessons would you want to pass on to others if you knew you were about to leave them?”

Here are my three, that come to mind at the moment:

1. Accept the realities in your life as being God’s plan for the moment, and respond to life in as graceful a way as possible. Flow with reality, don’t fight it.

2. As John Mayer sings, “Say what you need to say.” Don’t leave good things unsaid. Don’t leave love unexpressed. A lot of things we say don’t need to be said, while a lot of things we don’t say need to be said.

3. Let the Word of God and the Son of God call the tune. You dance to it.

Cool Dancing Song

Someone mentioned to me a song by Lee Ann Womack, called “I Hope You Dance” and I just downloaded it and listened to it. It fits so well with the Scripture we looked at yesterday that I just had to post the lyrics.

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed
I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you’ll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they’re worth taking
Lovin’ might be a mistake
But it’s worth making
Don’t let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
I hope you dance
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
(Where those years have gone)

I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you’ll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
Dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
I hope you dance
(Where those years have gone)

(Tell me who)
I hope you dance
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
(Where those years have gone)

After the Dance

Yesterday’s message was on the dance that Peter describes in 2 Peter 1. (The words translated “add” in verse five and “supplied” in verse 11 are both the Greek word “epikorageo” which means “upon the leader of the dance.”) We talked about how important it is that we live our lives moving smoothly and gracefully through the various transitions of life, and we went through the list of character qualities in verses 5-7. I was excited about teaching these important truths and, frankly, really enjoyed the morning. I think I did great! (Just kidding. I never feel like I did the passage justice, ever.) But I really do love the truths contained in this passage, I think because I have felt clumsy in how I live my life so often. I really want to get this down.

Last week a man in our church named Randy, who is battling cancer, gave me a watch. There are no hands or numbers on it, and the face just says “NOW.” I started wearing the watch because it reminds me to pray for Randy, and especially because it reminds me to live now. When I looked down at my wrist I had to ask myself, “am I worrying about the past, stressing about the future, or living the best I can right now?” I didn’t say anything about the watch in the first two services, but quite a few people asked me why I’m wearing two watches and I shared a little about what it means to me. By third service I decided to just explain my NOW watch during the message. After the service I had the chance to pray for my good friend Bill Cravenor, who is in a serious battle with cancer himself. Among other things, I prayed that if it is the Lord’s will Bill could live to see another Dodger World Series Championship. (He is a huge Dodger fan.) I told God that things weren’t looking too good for the Dodgers this season so he might have to keep Bill around for another year. (When I prayed that, Bill squeezed my knee, while I’m sure everyone else thought I was nuts.) After the prayer, I put the NOW watch on Bill.

Later in the afternoon the Dodger announcer, Vin Scully, who has been their announcer since 1950, announced that he is returning for yet another year next year. Vin Scully and Bill Cravenor are two of the smoothest, most graceful men I have ever known. I wish them both another season.

Pain and Submission

Yesterday was frankly a tough message for me to deliver. Whenever we talk about what the church should be and could be, and we see how it has so often failed to meet that standard, it hurts. We all have memories of times when we desperately needed the body of Christ and her imperfections were glaring. Sometimes the problems were with us, other times with others. And realizing scripturally the potential of the church causes us to feel worse about those times when we didn’t live up to that potential, individually or collectively. And yet, God continues to work among us, despite our many shortcomings, and the light of grace keeps on shining.

Sally McRae wrote some things to me in an email last night that I thought captured the reality of painful life in the church. (Besides being one of the most amazing people I know, Sally also writes articles for our women’s blog and you should definitely read everything she shares there.) Sally said this: “Earlier this evening, I was thinking about church and ministry. I asked God, ‘Why does it have to be so painful?’ I thought about Jesus’ life and what’s recorded in the gospels about His ministry on earth- it too was painful. I wondered, ‘If it doesn’t hurt, are we not doing it right?’ If we are not suffering, are we missing out on the heart of Jesus?”

Sally goes on to talk about how in our society we are focused on comfort, and how to relieve the pain at all costs. Then she observes, “Looking back over the course of my life, the more I hurt, the tighter I clung to Jesus, the quicker I ran to His feet, and the closer I felt to Him, hence the more joy and peace I discovered, safe in His arms. I want that feeling every day.”

I have discovered that what Sally has shared is also my personal experience. In retrospect (and it is almost always only in retrospect) the pain is soooo worth it.

The other thing I’ve been reflecting on, since the message yesterday, is the nature of submission. Yesterday I shared that true submission is really only revealed when the person we are in relationship with does things we don’t agree with. We think we are in submission, but the test of disagreement will always unveil the truth, and the truth can hurt. It is then that we connect with Jesus, as He was deserted by those who professed loyalty to Him. I have heard it said that you never lose friends. You only go through adversity which will show you who your friends really are.

The essence of submission is acceptance. To accept a person the way they are, warts and all, whether a spouse, a friend, or a pastor, and to encourage them to be true to what they feel the Lord is speaking to them, and to choose to adjust one’s self to accommodate who they are, is the essence of all true relationship. There is nothing more empowering than to feel acceptance and support, and nothing more devastating than to feel rejection and discord. Nowhere is that more true than in the roles God has established within the body of Christ. But we cannot afford to retreat from submission and acceptance, or from leading and teaching the truth, because of the pain. It comes with the territory.