There’s a song on the radio. reminding me of love. Singing of the power of God. His grace from up above. And I’m thinking about my family. How I’ve let them down. Though I know I’m sorry. I’m surprised that I have found
That these are tears of joy. These are tears of hope. These are tears that mean the healing has begun. He has broken through, Torn my fences down. And I’m glad that He has given me new life with you.
I wrote this song a long time ago. It is good to know it’s still true. He is still working. He hasn’t given up on us and we haven’t given up on each other.
Purity is an innocent child, smiling, angelic. Or maybe it’s a virgin girl, untouched, not sullied by sex, the touch of a man.
Men are off the hook. No one expects purity from even little boys. No one except God.
But we’re wrong.
We paint the picture of a “holy” man with his hands clasped in prayer, a halo behind his head, a somber, emotionless face.
He certainly is no soldier, practically not a real man. A real man is tough, strong, sexual. Impurity is just how it is; boys will be boys.
But we’re wrong!
How do we change this devastating status quo? Can we be more but still remain dudes? Fishing, hunting, gun toting, car driving, work with our hands, women loving men?
It’s more than possible! It’s imperative! IT HAS TO HAPPEN!
Two resources that have been very successful are the “Conquer Series” videos (conquerseries.com) and f3 Nation (f3nation.com). Get in a group if there is one in your area. If not, START ONE!
Do the things you know are impossible but you know are right. Work on disciplines, brand new habits, new mindsets. Believe in a christian brotherhood and a faithful God who has NOT given up on you and who WILL walk through the battles with you.
If you’ve tried and failed, try again. Get on your knees. Pray for your family and that God would raise up a warrior within you.
The holiday season brings families together all across the world. That’s where the trouble starts.
What a broken, messed up, ruined system. Absolutely doomed to failure. Dysfunctional parents raising dysfunctional children all throughout history. You look at most of the heroes of Judaism and Christianity and then look at their kids. Wow! I mean wow and YIKES!
So why does an all-knowing, all-powerful God believe that the family, a husband, a wife and children is the best way to assure an environment where love, joy, nuturing, goodness, and life could be experienced?
And, it would appear that very few experience those things in a family.
Parents shake their heads at the “stupid” things their kids do. Kids blame their parents for all the “wrongs” done to them. Everyone feeling like the problems would be solved if the people in their lives were just different.
What makes a beautiful song? Is it one that never strays into the relative minor? Is it one that never displays dissonance, syncopation, complicated melodies or harmonies?
I don’t think so.
The best place for me to learn love, real, Christ-like, agape, self-sacrificing love is in the crucible of my very flawed family. And if I can see them as a gift, instead of the ruined, broken, sinful people that everyone of us truthfully is, I take one step closer to the heart of God.
And that’s why He believes in us, as fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters. I think He knows that if we will choose love in the environment where the deepest hurts can occur, that we will choose love as we make our way in this crazy, messed up, dysfunctional world.
The book of Philippians says, “Do not be anxious about anything…”
Right now, my chest hurts, my skin itches and my digestive tract is in knots.
I am stressed out.
Work, car trouble, financial woes and don’t get me started on the dumb things I do.
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.”
So God, transmission died. Work is piling up on me. Seems like I work all the time but always feel like we don’t have enough to pay for everything, let alone have much fun. I make so many mistakes at work I’m gonna get fired and I can’t seem to keep my mind and heart fixed on you.
Thank you for my children, they are really great people. Thank you for my wife, she’s awesome! Thank you for how you always provide, always see us through. You’re pretty awesome too!
“And the peace of God, which goes beyond all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
I belong to a group called f3. Normally, we just work out together, exercise, encourage, insult and generally give each other grief.
Today was different. Our Q, the person in charge of the workout, wanted us to shovel snow off sidewalks, driveways in the neighborhood.
So we got to work.
As I was shoveling a driveway, an older lady (I can say that because I don’t think she was as old as me) came out and said thank you.
Yes, yes, your welcome, blah, blah, blah.
A few minutes later, as we were finishing up, she came out again. “Thank you, so much! You’ve restored my faith in humanity.”
Whoa, hold the phone!
I have heard the rhetoric of those who believe humanity will save itself. We will evolve to the point where we are perfect, no longer selfish, self-destructive, hateful creatures. We will become, oh, in a million years or so, loving, focused on the good of all, one with nature.
This is high grade horse manure.
No, I don’t want people to restore their faith in humanity. Apart from Jesus, and what He does by leading us first to the cross and then to the world, humanity has NO hope.
This is my problem with politics, with medicine, with psychology, all the things we look to to heal ourselves. They are the “splintered reed”, the thing that when we lean on it, pierces our hands. They not only fail us, they cause more damage when we depend on them.
Nothing I do. And the guys I hang out with would agree, nothing we do should ever restore your faith in humanity.
Pretty sure I’ve written on this subject before, but it can be revisited.
I was a terrible father. Did everything wrong. A terrible husband, terrible leader, terrible Christian. I was and am ashamed of all the mistakes I made.
Or so the enemy whispers (sometimes shouts) in my ear, my heart, my soul.
Do you feel this way sometimes, maybe lots of times?
The apostle Paul said in Romans 8, “There is therefore now no condemnation.” How is that even possible when I know perfectly well that I am RIGHTLY condemned. I am guilty.
Paul also said that he was the worst (1 Timothy 1). Shoot, he spent most of Romans 7 talking about not being able to stop sinning.
Guilt is universal.
So how can we believe that there is no condemnation? How can anyone have the temerity, the nerve to say there is now no condemnation?
In Christianity we talk about getting to heaven and facing the “judgement seat”. The idea is passed down that we will stand before Jesus and be shown a “movie” of our lives, with the whole world watching. When I think about that and remember so many of the the things I’ve done, even as a little child, I wonder how I will ever face this event.
Then it comes to me, I’m just going to look at Him. I think I can handle what anyone thinks of me, including myself, if I just look at Him.
There are artists who have depicted Jesus on the judgement seat, stern, cold, disappointed.
But in light of the CROSS, and Romans 8 says, “there is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ,” I think all I will see is love. All I will hear is, “this one is mine.”
And that’s where I should be looking now. The voices of condemnation don’t heal. Even the overwhelming guilt doesn’t lead me to repentance. You can’t pay for what you’ve done, the ripples go far beyond our reach.
We have a small picture of my wife and I when we were just getting ready to leave for our first real date.
How did someone that drop dead gorgeous ever say yes to going out with a mook like me?!
And how do I repay that kindness, that audacious blessing and gift? I’ve done a pretty poor job of it, so far.
Today is a new day.
Despite the fact that we didn’t turn out the way I had planned, scarred and bruised, sometimes angry and afraid, we were held. We were held together by loving, strong hand. Not our passion for each other, not our faith, not our commitment to holiness. We were held.
We had passion for each other, an understanding that even when we were hurting and furious, we still loved. We would forget. We would say things to lash out, to guard our wounds, simple revenge. Our passion could’ve killed us.
We both had faith, a faith that God brought us together, planned for us to meet and fall in love. We would lose sight of that in the face of our selfishness, the lies we listened to, our humanity. We had to be a divine mistake.
We were good people. Hard working, church going, servants of Jesus. But in this, I was the worst. Going back to pornography, alcohol, oh the many ways that men “check out.” Holy? Hardly…
Ah, but today is a NEW day.
I can remind myself. I can look once more at the face of my Father, see His grace and mercy. Be grateful for all He has done. I can look back at who we were and see better who we are right now and choose to love.
And let myself be held.
Not a perfect system I suppose.
I think I can LIVE with that.
Our lives may not go down in history, Our story may never be heard. But it doesn’t matter and I’ll tell you why, Our names may not fit into any love song, But her hand fits just right in mine.
Talking to some friends yesterday and somebody said I wouldn’t let my kids read Harry Potter books.
I know my kids (who are now all adults with families of their own). If I would’ve said you aren’t allowed, they wouldn’t have been able to help themselves.
Chips off the old block.
What I told them is that I would rather they didn’t. And it had very little to do with how bad the writing is.
I think there are only three powers that I can control. Two of those my only control comes from my submission to that power. The one remaining is me.
Jesus said in John 10:10, “The thief comes only to steal, kill and destroy.”
He was referring to Satan when he said this. He tempts you with the idea that he can give you power that you can control. It just never ends up being true. The “power” always, ALWAYS, ends up controlling you. No one is exempt.
Jesus went on to say, “I have come that they may have life and have it abundantly.”
Check yourself on this, does watching a movie or reading a book lead you to thinking, “I want more of God’s power.” Or does God’s power sound kinda lame compared to casting spells and flying in a game of quidditch.
What an old fuddy-duddy! It’s a kid’s series for entertainment. This is a stupid argument used to justify various levels of pornography, horror/slasher media, and multiple addictions.
I would remind you that if it’s not coming from Jesus, it’s not intended to entertain you. It is seeking to steal, kill and destroy.
Did you know, from what I understand, that the idea of gravy came from rotting meat. They would stick a pan under the side of beef (or whatever) and let the drippings from the rotting meat collect. Add some salt and pepper, some flour, and cook it up. Yum!
OK, I do have a point.
Do you look back on your life with regrets?
It can be easy to say, “what a waste.”
Throw in some wisdom. Put in a dash of grace, mercy, love.