Monthly Archives: July 2023

“Let Go and Let God”

“Let go and let God.” (A twelve-step slogan.)

Ex. 4:1   Then Moses answered, “But behold, they will not believe me or listen to my voice, for they will say, ‘The LORD did not appear to you.’” 2 The LORD said to him, “What is that in your hand?” He said, “A staff.” 3 And he said, “Throw it on the ground.” So he threw it on the ground, and it became a serpent, and Moses ran from it. 4 But the LORD said to Moses, “Put out your hand and catch it by the tail”—so he put out his hand and caught it, and it became a staff in his hand— 5 “that they may believe that the LORD, the God of their fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has appeared to you.” (Exodus 4:1-5, English Standard Version)

Letting go of things is not easy for me. You would know this immediately if you looked at my bookshelves or my garage. Then, there is the matter of letting go of the past and all the regrets associated with it. No, letting go of things is not easy for me.

Of course, holding onto things isn’t easy either. My arthritic hands have a difficult time holding onto glasses when I’m doing the dishes, much less holding onto heavier objects. Then too, my hands are only so big and so strong anyway. I really can’t hold much at all. Neither, probably, can anyone.

Moses was holding on to his staff. He was a shepherd. He needed his staff. Yet, in his encounter with the LORD in the desert, Moses wasn’t sure that God had chosen the right man for the job. So God asks him a question, “What’s that in your hand?”

Now the truth is this: When God asks a question, God already knows the answer. God doesn’t ask questions for God’s benefit but for ours. What did Moses have in his hands? The same gnarly rod that he had used on his sheep for some time now. Nothing dramatic, nothing special.

God gives Moses a strange command. “Throw it down.” And what happened when Moses threw down his staff? It became a snake. And then, on a rather humorous sidenote, we are told that Moses ran away from the snake. The Bible is much funnier than we sometimes are willing to admit.

Sometimes, we have to let go of things, to throw them down. When we do, we don’t like the initial results at all. In fact, those results can be pretty scary.

And then, God gives Moses another even stranger command: “Pick it up by the tail.” I’ve never been much of a snake handler, but even I know that if you pick up a snake by its tail, you’re likely to get bitten.

But Moses obeys, despite his fear, and the snake becomes his staff again. We can debate until the cows come home and have been milked whether this is some kind of magic or a miracle or whether it is factual. My personal belief is that, if there is a God at all, changing one thing into another would be no more difficult for God than me changing my shirt. But I think that if we get enmeshed in these kinds of science-versus-religion debates, we may be missing a major truth. We may be missing the idea that, if we are willing to let go of our regular stuff and our everyday lives at God’s commands, strange and wonderful things may happen.

What if I let go of my money, books, relationships, and time today? What if threw to the ground my right to be right about everything from love to politics?

When Moses was returning to Egypt to confront the most powerful ruler of the ancient world, the Bible says that Moses took his wife and sons to Egypt with him. It also says that Moses took the rod of God (Exodus 4:20). When did the rod of Moses become the rod of God? Apparently, when Moses let it go.

What do you and I need to let go of today?

“Lessons Not Yet Learned from Mom and Dad”

Eph. 6:1 ¶ Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.

Eph. 6:2 “Honor your father and mother” (this is the first commandment with a promise),

Eph. 6:3 “that it may go well with you and that you may live long in the land.” (English Standard Version)

Our pastor preached on Ephesians 6:1-3 this morning. He was especially speaking to young people under the age of 18. I am seventy-two. In fact, my parents have been gone for way over 18 years, so it was tempting for me to think, “Well, this sermon isn’t for me!”

However, three things gave me pause for thought about dismissing the pastor’s sermon. First, I never really grew up. Second (and related to the first observation), I am still struggling with lessons I should have learned when I was nine years old. Third, I have a Heavenly Father, and I need to learn how to obey and honor God more than I do. Maybe some of the things my parents tried to teach me would also be a good way of obeying and honoring God.

While I need to think more about this, it is sometimes helpful to list initial impressions in response to a good sermon, a book, or other stimulating stuff. So, I made a quick list of things my parents tried to teach me.

  1. Work hard,
  2. Care for others.
  3. Take care of yourself.
  4. Don’t eat too much.
  5. Be careful.
  6. Don’t expect too much.
  7. Always say, “Thank you!”
  8. Don’t take bad about others or to others.
  9. Be careful with your money.
  10. Don’t be so full of yourself.
  11. Don’t complain.
  12. Don’t wear your heart on your sleeve.

Some of these I do better with than others. When my parents were trying to teach me these lessons, I often thought my folks were out of touch with reality. I have since concluded that their son was the one who wasn’t living in reality.

What lessons did your parents try to teach you? Admittedly, not all of the lessons were good, I’m sure. But were there some that were helpful? I’d love to hear from you as to what your parents taught you. Shoot me an email, if you get a chance.

“E.G.R.”

“For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.” (John 1:16, King James Veresion)

“We all live off his generous abundance,
    gift after gift after gift.” (John 1:16, The Message)

The other day, a friend of mine spoke of “E.G.R.” people. Before I could ask, my friend explained: Extra Grace Required. My friend very quickly added that she is sometimes an E.G.R. person.

Frankly, we are all E.G.R. people. Think of the kindest, most consistent person you know. Yes, even that person sometimes needs extra grace. Put two people together who both need extra grace at that moment, and you’ve got trouble. You might even have World War III.

The Gospel writer John says that, in Jesus Christ, we have grace after grace. What is grace? Someone has said it this way, comparing and contrasting mercy and grace: Mercy is not getting the punishment we deserve, and grace is getting the good things we don’t deserve. Grace is something we all need. John seems to be saying here that there is a boundless supply of grace in Jesus.

The Bible is very plain about what we are to do with this grace. We are to receive it, rejoice in it, and pass it along. Sometimes we all want to throw a dam across this river of grace. Most of us see our need for grace, but we don’t want to let the river flow. That won’t do. Jesus said to his original disciples, “Freely you have received. Freely give.” He says the same to you and me.

“A Non-Anxious Day and Life”

A friend of mine has some major decisions to make, and he is battling some anxiety. However, this morning he shot me an email, and it sounds as if he is remembering to pray and breathe and do the next right thing. Here is my reply to his email:

“Dear ________________,

It seems to me that you are refusing to be anxious about your anxiety. Well not done!

And well done!

In the moment, there is never any problem. There is either something we must do, something we must undergo, or something that is a mixture of doing and undergoing. I also need to remember this.

You are running well. Keep putting one foot in front of the other.”

I need to remember my own wise words today. I also need to remember what Jesus said: “Be not anxious.”

But often my own anxiety makes me anxious. It doesn’t have to. I can choose to turn my will and my life over to the care of God. I can do what I need to do in this moment. If I can’t stop the rain, I can endure it. I grew up on a farm. I never saw a cow killed by the rain, even a cold one. They just stood there looking thoughtful, but not necessarily miserable. As someone has said, “Suffering is inevitable; misery is not.”

“Persistent Scatterbrain”

22 Don’t fool yourself into thinking that you are a listener when you are anything but, letting the Word go in one ear and out the other. Act on what you hear!

23 Those who hear and don’t act are like those who glance in the mirror,

24 walk away, and two minutes later have no idea who they are, what they look like.

25 But whoever catches a glimpse of the revealed counsel of God – the free life! – even out of the corner of his eye, and sticks with it, is no distracted scatterbrain but a man or woman of action. That person will find delight and affirmation in the action.” (James 1:22-25, The Message Bible)

I bet you didn’t know the expression “distracted scatterbrain” was in the Bible, did you? Of course, it isn’t in the original Greek of James 1:25, but I think that Eugene Peterson has captured what James is driving at here. James is talking about people who may listen (sort of) to God’s Word, but who don’t follow through by doing what God’s Word says.

Too often, that would be me unfortunately. It doesn’t even have to be God’s Word. My wife asks me to do something, and I say, “Of course, sweetheart!” And then I forget.

In some areas of my life, I’m persistent, but it is a struggle. Unfortunately, I am sometimes persistent in doing the wrong things—or at least things that don’t matter. But when I am persistent in doing good things, I do indeed, as The Message says, “. . . find delight and affirmation in the action.”

I have to do things over and over to get the hang of them. Probably, everyone does. Focus doesn’t do it for me. For this scatterbrain, persistence is the only thing that works. Some experts on the matter speak of “muscle memory”. I think that’s a wonderful expression. Sometimes our muscles remember things that our conscious minds do not. I need to develop my spiritual muscle memory!

Perhaps God doesn’t so much seek consistency as He seeks persistence.

God, help me, help us all, to not worry so much about being scatterbrained. Instead, help us be persistent, even if we’re more than a little scattered.

“My Character Defects and God’s Garden”

“Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.” (Step 6 of 12-step programs.)

Today, by the grace of my good God, I am ready to have God remove all my character defects. I am practicing this readiness on a moment-by-moment basis.” (A recent daily affirmation from yours truly.)

I continued my report with the following comment:

“I believe that I was indeed ready, and that God did help me to act on my defects. I have a suspicion that they are always there. Perhaps God doesn’t take them away entirely. Perhaps, with God’s ongoing presence, and my ongoing commitment to their removal and letting God work on me, my character defects will stay in remission.”

My sponsor responded to my email report with a question and a suggestion. “How about next time ask God to help you work on your gifts and strengths? Focus on the good within you.”

Good idea!

My lawn guy was here today. He informs me that the main thing is to keep the grass healthy and strong. “If we do that,” he says, “the grass will take care of choking out the weeds.”

My lawn guy is not my sponsor, but he and my sponsor seem to see eye-to-eye on this one. Maybe I put too much emphasis on dealing with my character defects and not enough focus on nourishing my good qualities. Perhaps asking God to grow my good qualities is the best way to ask God to remove my character defects.

What are your character strengths? How could God and you together grow those strengths even more? These are good questions for me to ask myself. Perhaps you might try asking these questions yourself.

“Respecting My Own Values”

This is a reprint of one of my early blog posts. Tomorrow, I’ll be fresher I hope, and so will the post be! I enjoyed reading this again. I hope you do too.

“He makes peace in your borders . . .” (Psalm 147:14, New American Bible, 1995).”

Have you noticed how many sayings we have about borders, boundaries, and related concepts?

“That’s your problem, not mine!”

“You’re not respecting my boundaries!”

“There is a line I will not cross.”

“He/she/I is/am pushing the boundaries.”
And so on!

We all want other people to respect our boundaries.  Whole books have been written about this issue.  That’s good!  It is important that people respect our boundaries.  I suspect that books which tell us how to respect the boundaries of others are less popular.  I also suspect that less popular equals more needed.

But perhaps the most important topic is being at peace with our own boundaries.  I’m not sure I’ve seen lots of books written on that topic.

Psalm 147:14a literally says, “He [that is, God] makes your borders peace.”

This is a very terse verse, and can be translated and understood in a number of different ways.  I’m not going to tell you which translation or interpretation is best.  The truth is, I don’t know.

At a very literal level, it could be taken as referring to the territory of ancient Israel.  Trouble often occurs at the borders of any nation.  Nations disagree about where the boundaries were, are, or should be, as well as how (and how strictly) to maintain those boundaries.

Of course, at the micro-level this is also a common dynamic.  At work, people disagree as to what is and is not their responsibility.  In marriage, the same thing can be observed.  In divorce, these border skirmishes become all-out war.

However, whatever the verse is saying, I will tell you what I heard when I read it this morning.  I heard God saying to me that I need to be at peace with my own boundaries.  I have always had trouble with this.

When I was a very little person, Mom would let me go out to the yard, and would tell me to stay in the yard.  I would—for a few minutes.  But soon, the pastures outside the fence would call, and I would be off the races.  So would my mom and older sister, who ran themselves ragged trying to keep up with my short (but swift) legs.  Perhaps boundaries never come easily to small children.

What I would like to tell you is that I have gotten better with boundaries over the years.  However, that would be a lie.  I am not at peace with my own boundaries.  This means, basically, that I am not at peace at all.

Do I believe that God has established and will protect my boundaries?  If I do, I should be at peace with those boundaries.

What are my specific boundaries?  My age, my physical health, my marital status, my skills, my interests, my work—all these and many more constitute my boundaries.  There are times for expanding some of them, but many of them simply need to be recognized and respected.

From one angle, the Serenity Prayer is a prayer about boundaries: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change [i.e., the firm boundaries], the courage the things I can [i.e., the boundaries which can and should be expanded], and the wisdom to know the difference [i.e., knowing which boundaries must be firm, and which ones I need to expand].”

Only when I am at peace with my own boundaries and limitations will I have peace at all.

As that great 20th century philosopher, Clint Eastwood, said, “A man’s got to know his limitations.”

“The Magic of Bothness”

A friend of mine said the following in an email to me this morning:

“Tonight there was this speaker at the event talking about, basically what we always talk about- love, connection, non-self, etc., and he talked about this Native American saying, ‘I am a pitiful relative.’ Meaning, I am beautiful and good and surely loved by HP, and yet… I am a pitiful relative to this world around me, because we all are at some time or another. He said they say it with joy and humility, not with shame or punishment. I think that’s really beautiful. I’m a pitiful relative. I’m also a really good relative. The bothness is where the magic happens.”

People are good, except when we’re not. The recognition of these two facts and holding them in a continual creative tension strikes me as being one of the most important human truths and tasks. If we simply emphasize the goodness, we will not take seriously the very real evil in even very good humans. If, on the other hand, we only focus on the evil in human beings, we will almost certainly become cynical. We may even become completely hopeless about human nature and human beings.

“Simul Justus et Peccator,” said Martin Luther. We are “saints and sinners at the same time.” And what is this magic that happens in the bothness of our goodness and our evil? It is the magic—or better, the miracle—of God’s grace and love. God forgives us of our evil and grows our goodness into maturity.

This is indeed “deep magic from before the dawn of time,” as C.S. Lewis called it. And this magic of bothness is the magic of accepting God’s grace and love daily and also passing it along to others.

May you and I live in and live out this magic every day!

“You’re Not a Cow, Man!”

“Don’t have a cow, man!” (Bart Simpson)

“You’re not a cow, man!” (Down to Earth Believer)

In our twelve-step meeting this morning, someone proposed “rumination” as a topic. He seemed to think it was a problem for him.  I myself am a frequent flyer on the rumination plane, even though I don’t enjoy flying, so I was glad for the topic.

I grew up on a farm. We had cows, and cows definitely ruminate. We didn’t call it that. The word “ruminate” has too many syllables. We spoke of cows “chewin’ the cud.” They chewed and chewed and chewed. Then, they chewed some more. They had to do that in order to digest the grass or whatever else they were eating.

As we discussed the topic of rumination (a.k.a. “mulling things over; stewing on things; obsessing”) a couple of things came to mind. First, cows ruminate in order to digest their food. I’m afraid I’m not chewing on things to nourish myself, quite the contrary. I seem to chew on things in order to make myself sick. Not smart! I ruminate on slights, big and little, real and imagined. I mull over things that I can’t do anything about. In short, I wonder who is chewing whom? I think I may be the chew-ee, rather than the chewer.

Second, I am not a cow, so why act like one? Why not let things go? What do I get out of most of rumination besides a stomachache? And so, I say unto me and thee, “Don’t be a cow, man!”

“The ‘Why?’ in Self-Negativity”

“Why to you speak so negatively about yourself?” This was a question asked me this morning by Bill, my walking partner at a local park.

“I don’t know, Bill. It’s a question my wife has been asking for the past fifty years. In fact, she probably asked it when we were dating.”

“And she still married you!” said Bill.

“Yes, she did,” I responded.

Why do I regard myself so negatively? There are probably a lot of reasons. Some of my reasons might even be reasonable. Some, not so much.

For one thing, I’ve known people who were apparently totally convinced that everything they did was just perfect. I don’t like those people. Why would I want to be like people that I don’t even like? Perhaps I value humility.

But that is about the only somewhat sensible reason. The others are darker, I’m afraid. One of those unwise “whys” is that I don’t want to raise people’s expectations too much. I am a people pleaser, and the lower I can set the bar, the less likely I am to displease.

Sometimes, I’m trying not to set the bar too high for my own self. I’m a perfectionist. There was a book years ago entitled In Search of Excellence. If I wrote that sort of book, I would entitle it In Search of Perfection. The problem with setting the bar lower for myself is that I still, in my heart of hearts, want to do everything perfect—the first time and every time.

There are probably many more reasons, excuses, and bad attitudes that undergird my self-negativity, but this is enough truth for one post. Whatever the whys, the question I need to ask myself is this: How can I get out of this echo chamber that does not really help me to become a better person?

My problem is that I know the answer, but I keep forgetting it. I believe that God loves me just as I am. Well, I believe it at the theoretical level. But do I believe it down in the trenches of individual good and bad choices, in my chronic struggles, in the dailiness of life?

I need to become a more believing believer!

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