Metamorphosis Mondays

Join me here on Mondays, where I'll share some words that are changing me for the better...

I'm a huge fan of Bob Goff, the US consul to Uganda, founder of Restore International, lawyer and law professor, and all-around whimsical world-changer.  I'm rereading his book, Love Does, and there are words that continue to electrify me in the best of ways.

I enjoy those parts of the Bible where Jesus talks about how much He loves His bride.  It makes me wonder if the trees and mountains and rivers are things He planned in advance, knowing they would wow us.  I wonder if God returned over and over to this world He placed us in thinking what He had created was good, but it could be even better, even grander.  I wonder if He thought each foggy morning, each soft rain, each field of wildflowers would be a quiet and audacious way to demonstrate His tremendous love for us. 

And then...

I heard a self-help guy say once you could look in the mirror and give yourself something he called positive affirmations, like saying to yourself you are good or smart or talented.  I don't know if that works, to be honest.  Maybe it does.  But I do know one thing that works every time - it's having somebody else say something good about you.  I think that's how we were created, you know, to get named by people this way.  I think God speaks something meaningful into our lives and it fills us up and helps us change the world regardless of ourselves and our shortcomings.  His name for us is His beloved.  He hopes that we'll believe Him like I came to believe what the coach said about me.  He hopes we'll start to see ourselves as His beloved rather than think of all the reasons that we aren't.  Sometimes we don't think that the name someone picked for us is accurate either.  How could the coach think of me as a real ball player?  And how could God think of me as His beloved? But then I remember how Jesus said to one of the guys with Him that he was a rock even though He knew this same guy would deny ever knowing Him.  I don't think Jesus was blowing sunshine at Peter when He did that.  Instead, I think He was calling something out from inside Peter.  It was kind of like the coach telling me I was a real ball player - he saw it in me and was just calling it out.  We get to do that for each other still today.

I also just got involved in a class at my church that's viewing and discussing episodes from the recent Verge Conference.  Wow, have I been missing out!  One of the speakers, Caesar Kalinowski, challenged us to ask God to show us three people we can bless this week.  I love that.  It's intentional, yet not at all in-the-box, and so simple (really? Ask God to show me specific ways I can bless THREE people?  Yeah, I can probably manage that).  He also pointed out that discipleship isn't something "additional," to be squished in the in-between spaces of our lives; rather, discipleship involves transforming everything you're already doing by intentionally living your life as a mission.  Definitely something good to think about there.

Here, Too, There Is Joy

Most days, I feel buried alive.
Technically, I have three jobs now: one, full-time, is watching two girls on their farm about ten miles from my house; the second is marketing CUTCO knives through scheduling appointments (there will probably be a post about this job in the near future); and the third, which I have not yet started and am wondering how I can possibly find time to squeeze in yet another position, is assisting in the assembly of various musical instruments for a man whose demands exceed what he can supply on his own.
Often, it feels as though the world is pressing in on me from every side, and I fight claustrophobia as daily activities surround me and close in.  I've downsized as much as I can in terms of how I use my time, and still I feel consumed by the chaos.
But one phrase has been whispered in my ear in the sacred early mornings before the girls wake up, when it's just me and God and the goofy, floppy-footed Labrador puppy: Here, too, there is joy.  Because here, too, I am found.
I am seeking God.  Not in the mountaintops where it is easy to find Him, where the air is clear and seeing God is as simple as turning around.  I am seeking Him in the everyday, in the moments where girls throw dirt and harsh words at each other, in the moments where I am late to a meeting or forget to call my manager, in the moments where I am falling, exhausted, into bed at the end of the day.
When the Word became flesh, He made His dwelling among us.  He entered into our insanity and self-destruction and offered abundant life and living water through Himself.  And where He is, here, too, is joy.