Sitting, Running, Giving

The bible makes me laugh so much of the time….

Many of us have read or heard the story about Jesus feeding the five-thousand.  For those who haven’t, check out John 6.  The story is in Matthew, Mark and Luke also if you want to compare.


The people gather, they want something to eat and three types emerge.

There were five thousand men plus women and children.  Those aren’t the three types.  It tells how the Lord told them to sit down.  So the men sat.  The fact that we don’t hear about the women sitting is what makes me laugh.

We’ve all been there.  The guys sit down to watch the game while the children are climbing the walls, causing trouble.  The moms are running around after them saying, “put that down, quit hitting your brother, don’t eat that…”

So there were three groups, the ones sitting, the ones running.  But, then there was Jesus and by association, his disciples.  They were giving.

I have been the one sitting.  Waiting for something amazing to happen.  Looking for God to move so that I can see for myself that He is real.  Not lifting a finger except to put food in my mouth.

I have been the one running.  Chasing my tail.  Busy with so many things, so many good things.  Mainly just running.

I want to be someone that is giving.  Giving Jesus the little that I have, all that is me.  Letting Him break it and bless it.  And then giving to those that God puts in my life.

It’s easy to get caught up in sleeping, apathy, checking out.  Just as easy to be caught in the race to prove myself, to follow the chaos, chasing dreams that evaporate before I can put my hand on them.

But nothing compares to being a vessel.  Being the one that God calls to touch and bless others.


Are You Pregnant?

How many know that when a kid asks you this question…

And you’re not…

And you’re a guy…

It may be time to start eating less and exercising more?

Now she was just a little girl.  She had seen me leading worship for a while and I think was actually trying to be nice.  That doesn’t make it better.  It really makes it worse.

When I was a kid, I was always the smallest.  I couldn’t get bigger no matter how much I ate.  I started lifting weights and running and could not gain any muscle, any bulk to save my life.  I graduated high school weighing 130 pounds and looking like a concentration camp victim.  By the time I went into the army I had grown a couple of inches taller and now weighed a whopping 140 pounds.  I ate like crazy but still could not gain any significant weight, still was smaller built, wiry and tough but still one of the smallest guys in my unit.

Then I got married.

Weight gain is not the issue anymore.  Now I’m pregnant.

Life is so full of twists, turns, things that we don’t see coming, things that sometimes don’t make any sense.  We can try and try to change things, change who we are and end up disappointed, angry, bitter, depressed.

Or we can laugh.

And yes, I mean laugh when we lose our job.  We can laugh at injuries and sickness.  We can find the humor in devastation.  See the amazing miracles that make any of us survive.  We can even laugh in the midst of divorce, abandonment, great sorrow.

It isn’t an Effie Trinket style, “smile and the world smiles with you” attitude.  It is a choosing to see the blessing, the gift, the silliness, the ridiculousness that is life.

And really, I do look kind of pregnant.


It was a blessing to get up this morning.  I am blessed to be at work, to earn a paycheck.  I am blessed to have a loving Father who patiently leads me through life, walking with me, correcting me, moving me closer to His heart.  I am blessed with a strong, loving wife, children who I am proud to call mine.  I am exceedingly blessed to play and sing with the wonderful musicians at my church.

According to Glen Packiam, another translation of the word blessed is lucky (he wrote a whole book on the subject that is well worth reading).  So, I’m lucky when my wife disagrees with me.  I’m lucky when my kids think I’m a dope.  I’m lucky to deal with bosses, crazy monkeys, no raises, threats of unemployment, offensive smells, rat bites, and fatigue.

Now, in case you think I’m being sarcastic, I’m not.  God’s blessings are not how we would wrap them.  They don’t come in comfy, cozy, brightly colored packaging.  Sometimes they hurt.  Sometimes they cut.  Sometimes they make us angry, frustrating us to distraction.  His blessings are for our good, not our happiness.  His blessings make us better with the intent of us being better for other people (not just ourselves).  His blessings teach us, grow us, make us warriors and priests.  His blessings raise us up to a high calling.

Would I trade His blessings for ones of my choosing?  The height of folly.  Would I willingly walk away from His life for the good that this world, that I would offer?  A frightening thought, for I know my propensity to say yes to this question.

No, Lord.  I would choose You.  I would lay down all I want to gain You.

Bless me, once again, as only You can.