Going dark is one of those terms that I know is real, because it's in a lot of spy shows. And I like spy shows, so I'm an expert. Going dark is when a spy has to go so deep undercover that they cut off communication with their handler and their peers.
Yesterday, I went dark.
Not that I'm a spy, I'm an "alien and stranger", a sojourner, and that's not quite the same thing. (If you're unfamiliar withe the phrase "alien and stranger" grab a Bible and look up 1 Peter 2.11) Or is it? I'm a subversive member of a King's following, a King who isn't my current world's ruler, trying to overthrow the system currently in place. Hmm...
But I digress. I went dark, not because I was going deeper in my cover, but because I was having a pity party.
Yep, me, Mr. Optimistic under most circumstances. Yesterday I spiraled out of control. My apparently fragile ego was not handling my unemployment situation well, so I went dark. Left God outside and tried to ignore him. Other people too. And like most of those situations, it only got worse from there. I turned to that one thing that if you'd read my blogs before, you know is my besetting sin (besetting is a theological word that means "butt-kicking").
I ate. Overate to be more precise.
I withdrew, shut out the world and the One who cares most, and I ate a bunch of stuff that I found.
And then I felt worse. Surprise!
I'm better today. Maybe. At least I'm confessional. And I'm talking to you, whoever you are. I'm not dark today. It's made me think of 2 or 3 things I probably need to focus on when I'm throwing a pity party.
1. Do some work. Wash the dishes. Do some laundry. Focus on a writing project. Work seems to help the soul regain some sense of purpose.
2. Get around people. People who refuse to be invited to your pity party, but who will be around you nonetheless.
3. Confess. You may not be one to confess on a blog, but confess. Your spouse, a friend, definitely God. Confess honestly, not in a Sunday-school fashion. But confess. Healing is there. His love doesn't go away.
He comes to give life. But that's my next blog.
Showing posts with label sin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sin. Show all posts
Thursday, September 05, 2013
Monday, August 26, 2013
Broken but redeemed
We left off discussing my mission statement last week after a stimulating post on the word "stimulating." Well, at least the 3.2 faithful readers thought it was. Or maybe they didn't either. Okay, so I like the word, and maybe it's just me.
As a refresher, my whole statement of personal mission is "stimulating redemptive living and kingdom investment." Let me share a few thoughts about my choice of the word "redemptive."
The world is broken. My kids are broken. POTUS and the Speaker of the House, they're broken. Miley Cyrus is broken (obvious after last night). So is Billy Graham (much less obvious but still true).
I am broken. Very broken. At the heart of my very being, I am not who I was created to be. I'm chipped, cracked and falling apart in places. And so are you.
And when a bunch of us broken people get together, the brokenness that can show up is like the running of the bulls.
The Bible uses (often maligned) words like "sin" and "transgression" and "flesh" to describe this brokenness in both people and communities. We tend to think that this is just a bunch of rules a vindictive God enacted to keep us in line, like the IRS or something. Are there some rules? Of course there are. But the real goal of all that religious talk about sin and holiness, is packed into the word "living." But I'm getting ahead of myself, that's the next conversation.
But today, it's the brokenness. Because the brokenness can--and hopefully will in you and me and my kids and Miley Cyrus--lead to redemption. Redemption is the buying back of something, the regaining of something lost.
During our semi-annual gathering at my cousin's ranch, we often drive into town and hit up a pawn shop. You ever wandered around one of those, wondering what the story is behind each piece? What prompted a person to need the cash over that record, that piece of furniture, that power tool? What would make a man sell a family heirloom watch for a few bucks? What motivates a man to sell his birthright for a bowl of stew?
How could someone sell out his rabbi for 30 pieces of silver?
I have sold out my own birthright, my own soul, for the sake of a few somethings. And it broke me, shattered my soul. Every time. And even though I walked past that pawn shop window day after day after day, leaning on the glass so close I could see my breath clouding my reflection, I had nothing to buy it back.
Nothing. I had no redeeming value. Until...
Until the One who loved me most redeemed me. Bought me back. Restored my soul.
I'm broken, but I'm redeemed.
And one day I'll be restored, but that's a future conversation.
As a refresher, my whole statement of personal mission is "stimulating redemptive living and kingdom investment." Let me share a few thoughts about my choice of the word "redemptive."
The world is broken. My kids are broken. POTUS and the Speaker of the House, they're broken. Miley Cyrus is broken (obvious after last night). So is Billy Graham (much less obvious but still true).
I am broken. Very broken. At the heart of my very being, I am not who I was created to be. I'm chipped, cracked and falling apart in places. And so are you.
And when a bunch of us broken people get together, the brokenness that can show up is like the running of the bulls.
The Bible uses (often maligned) words like "sin" and "transgression" and "flesh" to describe this brokenness in both people and communities. We tend to think that this is just a bunch of rules a vindictive God enacted to keep us in line, like the IRS or something. Are there some rules? Of course there are. But the real goal of all that religious talk about sin and holiness, is packed into the word "living." But I'm getting ahead of myself, that's the next conversation.
But today, it's the brokenness. Because the brokenness can--and hopefully will in you and me and my kids and Miley Cyrus--lead to redemption. Redemption is the buying back of something, the regaining of something lost.
During our semi-annual gathering at my cousin's ranch, we often drive into town and hit up a pawn shop. You ever wandered around one of those, wondering what the story is behind each piece? What prompted a person to need the cash over that record, that piece of furniture, that power tool? What would make a man sell a family heirloom watch for a few bucks? What motivates a man to sell his birthright for a bowl of stew?
How could someone sell out his rabbi for 30 pieces of silver?
I have sold out my own birthright, my own soul, for the sake of a few somethings. And it broke me, shattered my soul. Every time. And even though I walked past that pawn shop window day after day after day, leaning on the glass so close I could see my breath clouding my reflection, I had nothing to buy it back.
Nothing. I had no redeeming value. Until...
Until the One who loved me most redeemed me. Bought me back. Restored my soul.
I'm broken, but I'm redeemed.
And one day I'll be restored, but that's a future conversation.
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
Follow the rules
Those closest to me have noticed a dark and disturbing trend over the past few years. I don't know how it happened, how it snuck up on me and captured my soul. But it has happened.
I have become a rule follower.
I wasn't always. Freedom rang through my life as if William Wallace himself was screaming in my head. I was a notorious rebel, determined to break the rules placed on me.
But no longer. I finally came to grips with it this morning when, for the umpteenth time, I saw another parent dropping their child off at school without following the school's well-posted rules for safety. It's as if we think that the rules don't apply to us if we're in a hurry. And as I glared steely eyes at the other dad who was, it looked to me, dressed for a tee time (while tee times are extremely important, probably not worth endangering elementary children for), it hit me.
I have become a rule follower.
So in the few minute drive back to the house, I pondered what had changed me so deeply. And as I did, I began to realize I've not changed so much as I think I have. The problem is not that I'm any less rebellious than 15 or 20 years ago. The problem is that I think fewer rules are stupid than I did 15 or 20 years ago. You see, even in my highest rebellious phase, I was rebelling against what I perceived to be the idiocy of certain regulations. Many people in authority make rules to govern the least common denominator. Anyone who tries to control a group of people (coaches, teachers, pastors, etc.) makes a rule because a handful of people in the group need those rules. It keeps the group in line. It defines truth as black and white, alleviating (albeit temporarily) the mystery. But, having usually seen myself as more enlightened than the rest of the group, I pretty much always thought those rules weren't very smart for me.
Educational math was like this for me. Teachers always wanted me to "show my work." Made me list out my postulates and theories in geometry. Show my line by line work in long division. When I could do it all in my head and save me the time and energy of writing it out, why?
Most of my strongest rebellion was (and still is) pointed at religious regulations. And more specifically, the religious regulations that allow American Christians to look good on the outside, but be dead bones on the inside, and still be seen as "good" evangelicals. But the truth is, we as individuals and we the collect system of society have been tainted by sin, and against that sin we need to struggle. We need to fight. We need to declare our freedom. Often for USAmerican evangelicals, the pattern of sin in us in not the desire to do evil. It is the belief that in doing a little good we become good people. As Screwtape attested, that may be the greatest victory of our enemy.
In these, may we all be rebels.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
I have become a rule follower.
I wasn't always. Freedom rang through my life as if William Wallace himself was screaming in my head. I was a notorious rebel, determined to break the rules placed on me.
But no longer. I finally came to grips with it this morning when, for the umpteenth time, I saw another parent dropping their child off at school without following the school's well-posted rules for safety. It's as if we think that the rules don't apply to us if we're in a hurry. And as I glared steely eyes at the other dad who was, it looked to me, dressed for a tee time (while tee times are extremely important, probably not worth endangering elementary children for), it hit me.
I have become a rule follower.
So in the few minute drive back to the house, I pondered what had changed me so deeply. And as I did, I began to realize I've not changed so much as I think I have. The problem is not that I'm any less rebellious than 15 or 20 years ago. The problem is that I think fewer rules are stupid than I did 15 or 20 years ago. You see, even in my highest rebellious phase, I was rebelling against what I perceived to be the idiocy of certain regulations. Many people in authority make rules to govern the least common denominator. Anyone who tries to control a group of people (coaches, teachers, pastors, etc.) makes a rule because a handful of people in the group need those rules. It keeps the group in line. It defines truth as black and white, alleviating (albeit temporarily) the mystery. But, having usually seen myself as more enlightened than the rest of the group, I pretty much always thought those rules weren't very smart for me.
Educational math was like this for me. Teachers always wanted me to "show my work." Made me list out my postulates and theories in geometry. Show my line by line work in long division. When I could do it all in my head and save me the time and energy of writing it out, why?
Most of my strongest rebellion was (and still is) pointed at religious regulations. And more specifically, the religious regulations that allow American Christians to look good on the outside, but be dead bones on the inside, and still be seen as "good" evangelicals. But the truth is, we as individuals and we the collect system of society have been tainted by sin, and against that sin we need to struggle. We need to fight. We need to declare our freedom. Often for USAmerican evangelicals, the pattern of sin in us in not the desire to do evil. It is the belief that in doing a little good we become good people. As Screwtape attested, that may be the greatest victory of our enemy.
In these, may we all be rebels.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Saturday, February 05, 2011
I am a hypocrite, but...
Last week I tweeted about hating when you make a judgment about someone else's behavior then the Holy Spirit gently but firmly smacks you upside your head and says, "You do that too!" It's frustrating to be a hypocrite.
The truth is I can be a monster. I have anger issues, pride issues, and downright prejudice issues.
I am, after all, a recovering sinner.
Since then I've been wondering if online confession is as good for the soul as is confession in person. I come from a tradition that, quite frankly, does not openly value public confession. I have however as an adult come to see the value of communal confession. Both James and Peter speak of confession, not just in the context of a private relationship with God, but in communal fellowship with other believers. But that's still not necessarily the same as blogging your confession, or tweeting it, or sharing on some other social media outlet. (Hmm, a Facebook confession page, anyone?)
Even as I write these words, I'm not sure if it would be healthy or perverse to add a list of my sins, to confess the thoughts, words and deeds of my life that miss the mark of holiness. A part of me wants to do it, another part of me wants to resist the titillation that already stenches up the internet. And another part of me wants to just point to the grace that is offered to all of us in Jesus, the marvelous, matchless, infinite grace that is greater than all our sins, as the hymn put it.
So where do I land this plane?
It's very freudian to say that whatever sin I judge the most in others is likely the sin I struggle with the most. I see in someone what I hate about myself and pass judgment on it.
But Freud wasn't God.
I think every believer in our honest moments admits that we have met the enemy, and he is me. The line between good and evil does run through the middle of the human heart. My heart. Until redemption fully arrives, my flesh keeps crawling off the sacrificial altar to wreak havoc on me, to slap me. Or worse, to subtly retake a piece of my life where I don't see it coming. This makes it all the more challenging for God's clay-footed people to speak prophetically. I will fail to follow what I profess.
Should I stop professing it?
No. My shortcomings do not negate the truth. My failings do not validate evil.
My gluttony does not mean we can ignore the hungry.
My greed does not give us license to ignore the poor.
My silence does not allow us to ignore those who need to hear good news.
My laziness does not mean we can give up on changing the world.
My sin points only to my own need for a savior. My hypocrisy does not justify others' evil, but certainly demands my humility. And while I hope and strive and pray to overcome my own sin, it is "not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own." Every day I am "forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus." Php 3.12-14 ESV
The truth is I can be a monster. I have anger issues, pride issues, and downright prejudice issues.
I am, after all, a recovering sinner.
Since then I've been wondering if online confession is as good for the soul as is confession in person. I come from a tradition that, quite frankly, does not openly value public confession. I have however as an adult come to see the value of communal confession. Both James and Peter speak of confession, not just in the context of a private relationship with God, but in communal fellowship with other believers. But that's still not necessarily the same as blogging your confession, or tweeting it, or sharing on some other social media outlet. (Hmm, a Facebook confession page, anyone?)
Even as I write these words, I'm not sure if it would be healthy or perverse to add a list of my sins, to confess the thoughts, words and deeds of my life that miss the mark of holiness. A part of me wants to do it, another part of me wants to resist the titillation that already stenches up the internet. And another part of me wants to just point to the grace that is offered to all of us in Jesus, the marvelous, matchless, infinite grace that is greater than all our sins, as the hymn put it.
So where do I land this plane?
It's very freudian to say that whatever sin I judge the most in others is likely the sin I struggle with the most. I see in someone what I hate about myself and pass judgment on it.
But Freud wasn't God.
I think every believer in our honest moments admits that we have met the enemy, and he is me. The line between good and evil does run through the middle of the human heart. My heart. Until redemption fully arrives, my flesh keeps crawling off the sacrificial altar to wreak havoc on me, to slap me. Or worse, to subtly retake a piece of my life where I don't see it coming. This makes it all the more challenging for God's clay-footed people to speak prophetically. I will fail to follow what I profess.
Should I stop professing it?
No. My shortcomings do not negate the truth. My failings do not validate evil.
My gluttony does not mean we can ignore the hungry.
My greed does not give us license to ignore the poor.
My silence does not allow us to ignore those who need to hear good news.
My laziness does not mean we can give up on changing the world.
My sin points only to my own need for a savior. My hypocrisy does not justify others' evil, but certainly demands my humility. And while I hope and strive and pray to overcome my own sin, it is "not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own." Every day I am "forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus." Php 3.12-14 ESV
Friday, May 21, 2010
In the unfortunately ironic category...
From CT's news roundup today:
• The biggest story in the world of pro-family politics was the surprising resignation of Rep. Mark Souder (R-Indiana), an evangelical and pro-family advocate. Souder had filmed a video on abstinence education policy, where he is interviewed by staff member Tracy Jackson, with whom he had an affair. The only mention of Souder's resignation among pro-family political activists came from Elijah Friedman who provides the "Millennial Perspective" for the AFA. "Sexual sin and other forms of sin can ruin a political career, but more importantly they can ruin a Christian's witness. That is a lesson that we all should take to heart," said Friedman.
This is unfortunate. I find the irony slightly funny, but on the other hand really extremely challenging. It would be easy to pile on the hypocrisy, but let's all be honest: we each have a temptation that knows just how to tweak us, those besetting sins, I think they used to be called.
Lord, remove the planks from my own eye, and keep me from sin. May I live in your grace daily!
• The biggest story in the world of pro-family politics was the surprising resignation of Rep. Mark Souder (R-Indiana), an evangelical and pro-family advocate. Souder had filmed a video on abstinence education policy, where he is interviewed by staff member Tracy Jackson, with whom he had an affair. The only mention of Souder's resignation among pro-family political activists came from Elijah Friedman who provides the "Millennial Perspective" for the AFA. "Sexual sin and other forms of sin can ruin a political career, but more importantly they can ruin a Christian's witness. That is a lesson that we all should take to heart," said Friedman.
This is unfortunate. I find the irony slightly funny, but on the other hand really extremely challenging. It would be easy to pile on the hypocrisy, but let's all be honest: we each have a temptation that knows just how to tweak us, those besetting sins, I think they used to be called.
Lord, remove the planks from my own eye, and keep me from sin. May I live in your grace daily!
Thursday, March 04, 2010
What should offend Christians?
Recently an atheist group at UTSA in San Antonio conducted a "smut for smut" campaign, and traded pornography for Bibles or other religious literature. They admit it's a publicity stunt, and quite frankly it's kinda silly.
But when I read the article (find it here) I had a question pop into my head: what should offend believers? I think that this is an important question in our culture today. What should I find offensive? I'm not sure I have any definitive answers, but here's my first thoughts:
1. We need to remember that the gospel is inherently offensive to many of those enslaved by sin. It should not surprise us when others are offended. The Bible tells us it will be.
2. God is perfectly capable of defending himself. And the Bible. He does not need us in this regard. That's not to say he doesn't use us, cuz he does. But there seems to be a huge number of Christians who feel that if God or the Bible is attacked, it's time to "fight fire with fire."
3. Call me ungodly if you need to, but I just don't see how holding picket signs in protest--no matter how true their slogans--makes a dent in the power of sin on people's lives. When you hold up a sign saying that "Jesus loves atheists" it doesn't feel like demonstrating love to atheists, it feels like political protest. I'm pretty sure the atheist group didn't look out at the believers and think "man, those people love us."
So, I'm thinking that being offended over...
a. people being silly...
b. lost people acting like lost people...
c. people desperate for attention or looking for fame...
d. just about anything we disagree with...
...is just not a good idea. One of the most amazingly attractive things about Jesus is that he never seem to get offended at people, especially at people's "junk." Their sin never surprised him, never made him stand, mouth agape, dumbstruck that someone would act that way. He knew people. He understood sin, even though he had none himself. He never had to hold up a "I love sinners but hate the sin" sign.
He just loved on people. He never compromised the truth. But he never seemed to feel he had to join anyone at their gamesmanship in order to confront them.
So I'm thinking, Christians, don't be offended so easily. Just a thought.
But when I read the article (find it here) I had a question pop into my head: what should offend believers? I think that this is an important question in our culture today. What should I find offensive? I'm not sure I have any definitive answers, but here's my first thoughts:
1. We need to remember that the gospel is inherently offensive to many of those enslaved by sin. It should not surprise us when others are offended. The Bible tells us it will be.
2. God is perfectly capable of defending himself. And the Bible. He does not need us in this regard. That's not to say he doesn't use us, cuz he does. But there seems to be a huge number of Christians who feel that if God or the Bible is attacked, it's time to "fight fire with fire."
3. Call me ungodly if you need to, but I just don't see how holding picket signs in protest--no matter how true their slogans--makes a dent in the power of sin on people's lives. When you hold up a sign saying that "Jesus loves atheists" it doesn't feel like demonstrating love to atheists, it feels like political protest. I'm pretty sure the atheist group didn't look out at the believers and think "man, those people love us."
So, I'm thinking that being offended over...
a. people being silly...
b. lost people acting like lost people...
c. people desperate for attention or looking for fame...
d. just about anything we disagree with...
...is just not a good idea. One of the most amazingly attractive things about Jesus is that he never seem to get offended at people, especially at people's "junk." Their sin never surprised him, never made him stand, mouth agape, dumbstruck that someone would act that way. He knew people. He understood sin, even though he had none himself. He never had to hold up a "I love sinners but hate the sin" sign.
He just loved on people. He never compromised the truth. But he never seemed to feel he had to join anyone at their gamesmanship in order to confront them.
So I'm thinking, Christians, don't be offended so easily. Just a thought.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Hypocrites in the Church? Sproul says overplayed...
R. C. Sproul is a good Christian thinker. Along with John Piper and my own pastor Matt Chandler, Sproul is perhaps the top USAmerican reformed thinker and teacher.
But I'm not sure I agree with his article here. Basically he says that the charge from outsiders that the church is full of hypocrites is patently false. He does a great job of outlining where the word "hypocrite" actually comes from (ancient Greek acting term for wearing a mask). But he then states that Christians are sinners and that doesn't make them hypocrites so the outsiders are wrong.
Really, what makes Christians hypocrites is their hypocrisy, not their sinfulness.
Sproul is correct in a couple of ways. First, those outside the church will often use any excuse to avoid dealing with their own sinfulness, and pointing to Christian hypocrisy is one such way. We should not give them such easy outs. Second, probably the vast majority of believers are not hypocrites, just as Sproul says. However, too many well-known believers (and by "well-known" I'm not just referring to famous ones, but ones well-known in their own communities too) pretend that their sin is not as bad as those outside the church. They pretend that the sin they struggle with isn't really there, or doesn't really ever win.
This is what the world sees and calls hypocrisy, the hiding of our dirty laundry. So what are we to do? Shout our sins in public? Stand on the corner and confess our darkest lusts and fears? Probably not, although that might be better than sweeping it under the rug. But there should not be a hint of "betterness" in us. The whole "one beggar showing other beggars where he found something to eat" has much truth in it for us. We did nothing and have done nothing to impress God. Honesty with him, with ourselves, and even with the world is the best policy, even when it comes to our showing our sin. After all, where sin abounds, grace abounds even more. I've read that somewhere.
But I'm not sure I agree with his article here. Basically he says that the charge from outsiders that the church is full of hypocrites is patently false. He does a great job of outlining where the word "hypocrite" actually comes from (ancient Greek acting term for wearing a mask). But he then states that Christians are sinners and that doesn't make them hypocrites so the outsiders are wrong.
Really, what makes Christians hypocrites is their hypocrisy, not their sinfulness.
Sproul is correct in a couple of ways. First, those outside the church will often use any excuse to avoid dealing with their own sinfulness, and pointing to Christian hypocrisy is one such way. We should not give them such easy outs. Second, probably the vast majority of believers are not hypocrites, just as Sproul says. However, too many well-known believers (and by "well-known" I'm not just referring to famous ones, but ones well-known in their own communities too) pretend that their sin is not as bad as those outside the church. They pretend that the sin they struggle with isn't really there, or doesn't really ever win.
This is what the world sees and calls hypocrisy, the hiding of our dirty laundry. So what are we to do? Shout our sins in public? Stand on the corner and confess our darkest lusts and fears? Probably not, although that might be better than sweeping it under the rug. But there should not be a hint of "betterness" in us. The whole "one beggar showing other beggars where he found something to eat" has much truth in it for us. We did nothing and have done nothing to impress God. Honesty with him, with ourselves, and even with the world is the best policy, even when it comes to our showing our sin. After all, where sin abounds, grace abounds even more. I've read that somewhere.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Despise a vile person
Today being the 15th I read Psalm 15, one of those easily preachable in America psalms because it has ready-made bullet points just like we like 'em.
[in the voice of a televangelist, however that sounds to you] "Who can ascend God's holy hill? Well right here are the 8 steps you have to take up that hill..."
So anyway, one of the steps or characteristics or whatever kind of sticks in my craw. Honestly I'm not sure where my craw is, but I hate it when things get stuck there. About halfway through you get this: "Who can dwell on your holy hill? He...in whose eyes a vile person is despised."
Now there are lots of psalms that get to me. I mean, am I really supposed to pray for my enemies to have their children dashed on the rocks? (yes, see Psalm 137). But I was particularly reflective this morning wondering this--do I let the "softness" and tolerance of my world affect my despising of evil-doers? Am I supposed to despise evil-doing people? Dictionary.com defines despise as to regard with contempt, distaste, disgust, or disdain; scorn; loathe. Is that how I'm supposed to feel? I don't, and I hope it's because I am following Jesus. He didn't seem to loathe or be disgusted at evil-doers. Quite the opposite actually.
[in the voice of a televangelist, however that sounds to you] "Who can ascend God's holy hill? Well right here are the 8 steps you have to take up that hill..."
So anyway, one of the steps or characteristics or whatever kind of sticks in my craw. Honestly I'm not sure where my craw is, but I hate it when things get stuck there. About halfway through you get this: "Who can dwell on your holy hill? He...in whose eyes a vile person is despised."
Now there are lots of psalms that get to me. I mean, am I really supposed to pray for my enemies to have their children dashed on the rocks? (yes, see Psalm 137). But I was particularly reflective this morning wondering this--do I let the "softness" and tolerance of my world affect my despising of evil-doers? Am I supposed to despise evil-doing people? Dictionary.com defines despise as to regard with contempt, distaste, disgust, or disdain; scorn; loathe. Is that how I'm supposed to feel? I don't, and I hope it's because I am following Jesus. He didn't seem to loathe or be disgusted at evil-doers. Quite the opposite actually.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
I'm sick of paint
Okay, raise your hand if you've done something stupid...
Not the "we've all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God" but non-sin, forgetful stupid. Back in the youth pastor days I was for several years the director of the EPBA youth camp. There was a couple of years in a row that we used one of my fave youth evangelist dudes from that era as the camp preacher. About 3 months prior to the second year of his speaking he called me up and said something like this: "Arnie, I've done something stupid. Really bad. But I haven't sinned. I can't tell you more yet, but I just thought I needed to tell you that."
Ooookkkkaaaayyyyyy...so do I uninvite you?
As it turns out, his description was spot on. He traveled a lot over Texas and Oklahoma as an evangelist, and when he was in the car alone on a long trip he would take a small pistol. One trip he was heading back from Oklahoma, and when he got home he just through everything, included said pistol, into his backpack. He had a week off with the family, then a weekend deal in Midland. That church was flying him out there, so he got the airport, went through security and was immediately grabbed and pulled aside. As the security guys pulled him away he glanced at the x-ray machine and--you guessed it--there was his fully-loaded pistol. It was a good thing for him that this was the early 90s and not post-9/11.
He bounced back from that stupid thing, and I'm bouncing back from mine. But we pay for them, in big or small ways. What was my stupid thing, you ask? Great question...
I through away some important paint last year. Custom paint. That our kitchen and bathrooms were painted with. And now we're moving and needing to touch up...
Have you ever tried to match custom paint with those stupid little cards? We've been to the local Lowe's 45 times in the past two weekends. I'm glad it's only a mile from my house. But I'm sick of paint.
I think we're done. The house should go on the market next weekend. And if all goes well I won't paint a thing ever again.
Yeah right.
Not the "we've all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God" but non-sin, forgetful stupid. Back in the youth pastor days I was for several years the director of the EPBA youth camp. There was a couple of years in a row that we used one of my fave youth evangelist dudes from that era as the camp preacher. About 3 months prior to the second year of his speaking he called me up and said something like this: "Arnie, I've done something stupid. Really bad. But I haven't sinned. I can't tell you more yet, but I just thought I needed to tell you that."
Ooookkkkaaaayyyyyy...so do I uninvite you?
As it turns out, his description was spot on. He traveled a lot over Texas and Oklahoma as an evangelist, and when he was in the car alone on a long trip he would take a small pistol. One trip he was heading back from Oklahoma, and when he got home he just through everything, included said pistol, into his backpack. He had a week off with the family, then a weekend deal in Midland. That church was flying him out there, so he got the airport, went through security and was immediately grabbed and pulled aside. As the security guys pulled him away he glanced at the x-ray machine and--you guessed it--there was his fully-loaded pistol. It was a good thing for him that this was the early 90s and not post-9/11.
He bounced back from that stupid thing, and I'm bouncing back from mine. But we pay for them, in big or small ways. What was my stupid thing, you ask? Great question...
I through away some important paint last year. Custom paint. That our kitchen and bathrooms were painted with. And now we're moving and needing to touch up...
Have you ever tried to match custom paint with those stupid little cards? We've been to the local Lowe's 45 times in the past two weekends. I'm glad it's only a mile from my house. But I'm sick of paint.
I think we're done. The house should go on the market next weekend. And if all goes well I won't paint a thing ever again.
Yeah right.
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