No, You Are Not Being Punked

Within what felt like minutes one morning last week, I thought to myself, “Am I being punked right now?”

It was the last Monday of July. I wondered if there was some secret conspiracy for everybody to go into react mode about anything and let’s include John. Next thought to myself, “What’s the current state of the moon?”

Along comes my worship pastor yesterday to introduce a song he is thinking about adding to our worship library. There is a piano take version he asked me to listen to. When I found it, I learned it’s actually born out of the artist’s completion of a soon-to-be-released book entitled Everyday Hallelujah.

In the recently released EP, there are two tracks about the book-one introducing it; the other a reading of the first chapter. These three sentences from the first chapter took me back to Monday morning and frankly, just about every day of any workweek:

Worship can be simple acts of service like mowing your neighbor’s lawn, working at a soup kitchen, or buying a stranger a cup of coffee. It can also be in the routines of life-like a prayer when you tuck your kids into bed or in the middle of your workday when you realize you are bringing order to chaos, beauty to the mundane. We worship with the lives we live. -Phil Wickham

Chances are, reader, you fall into one of two categories. You either bring order to chaos or you create beauty out of the mundane. And chances are, those in the other category disrupt your worship…more than you want to admit…out loud.

So here’s a mind shift. Rather than wonder if you’re being punked, what if you said, “Looks like I have an opportunity to worship.”

I actually fall a little into both categories, but my strength is bringing order to chaos. So yeah, I can tend to get ruffled with the chaos dwellers, particularly when they all arrive at the same time on a Monday morning as if they saved it all up from the weekend.

Here’s the challenge: View your bringing order and creating beauty as worship. When we do it together everyday, the result is a hallelujah to the one who knows all about bringing order and creating beauty, the King granting us the lives we live.

A Fool Goes to Bed Not Tired

Recently I listened to C.S. Lewis’s A Grief Observed, his reflections after the death of his wife.

He doesn’t hold back. I don’t believe he ever did.

He asks all the questions. He ponders both sides.

He doesn’t provide answers. He voices the frustrating silence of the unknown.

I tried to follow his lead. Rather than take notes, grab quotes, pull out highlights, I observed him observing.

However, this simple statement turned my head:

I do all the walking I can, for I’d be a fool to go to bed not tired.

It seemed like an off-the-cuff reference. He wasn’t addressing challenges about sleeping. He wasn’t trying to give a how-to-grieve example. Honestly, I don’t remember the exact context.

What I know is I appreciated the wisdom, for life in general as well as for someone journeying through grief.

Keep living. Keep moving.

It’s possible. It’s good for you.

Walk it out. Tire yourself out for better sleep.

Do all you can. Then go to bed.

Fools are tempted to wait until it’s bedtime to start walking.

Grief is a journey. Take it all the way to the end.

Your bed will thank you.

The Kingdom of Heaven Slowly Rises

The Beatitudes and the kingdom of heaven have been on my mind this weekend.

Not because I’m on a spiritual high. Actually, it’s more like my heart is being reshaped.

Recovering from direct and indirect wounds, I’m more inclined to respond in kind than bless, rage a war on kingdoms built in God’s name that do not bear the image.

War doesn’t bless; war would be a perversion of “your kingdom come.”

Maybe it’s not reshaping as much it’s yeast at work. The mixing and kneading is the kingdom of heaven slowly rising.

The song, the prayer, the promise, the hope is the simultaneous blessing and nudge, “Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward.”

Welcome yeast. Usher in the kingdom.

Photo by Moritz Knöringer on Unsplash

Drawing Near to Heaven

I think those are drawing near to heaven who in this life find that they need men less and love men more. And to like more in being loved without being needed. For where agape is there, in some degree, is heaven.

Natural loves can become eternal only insofar as they’ve allowed themselves to be taken into the eternity of agape, and this always involves a sort of death.

What a find! Audio recordings of C.S. Lewis from 1958 reading his own work.

The quotes above come from the final chapter on charity and agape love.

I find joy in these words. Kinship permeates in hearing another believer express the truth of dying to the desire to being needed resulting in more love.

Heaven draws near the more we love and allow ourselves to be loved.

Sometimes 1+1=1

On my walk to the recycle container in my community, it’s not uncommon to see something eye-catching for the first time. Recently, this was the one.

There are other larger clusters of similar design that I’ve wondered over, so this one hadn’t stood out. Now I cannot not see it between cul-de-sacs C and D.

I’ve also been walking through Romans. Explains the eye-catching.

Chapter 11 has always grabbed my attention. It’s Paul’s graphic image of wild branches (representing Gentiles) being “grafted in” to an olive tree (representing the Jews). His message is layered, but it ultimately describes exactly who God’s mercy is for…Everyone.

Interestingly, the next chapter starts with words that indicate Paul’s not done with this thought. This continuation is a well-known 1+1=2. Except, I’m not sure we always see the equation.

Chapter 12 pleads for believers to worship God for his mercy by offering ourselves as “living and holy sacrifices.” No individual, no one people group is better than all the others. In fact, we are one; we are reliant on each other like parts of a body.

Just as our bodies have many parts and each part has a special function, so it is with Christ’s body. We are many parts of one body, and we all belong to each other. Romans 12:4-5 NLT

Maybe the equation Paul is telling us is more accurate is 1+1=1.

If I knew an dendrologist (confession: I googled that), I’d invite them on a walk to cul-de-sacs C and D. Imagine what other equations there are to be reminded of…or to consider from the Creator’s point of view.

“Show Me Your Ridiculousness”

(Enneagram 1 ALERT: Photo may cause hives)

The last time I quick-trimmed the hedge by the drive, it was pretty near impossible to not do the same to my neighbor’s.

The main thing that kept me from intruding was the ridiculousness of the pink bloom.

Guess where my eye goes every time I drive down the cul-de-sac.

Which is always the effect of ridiculousness-you can’t seem to stop looking, maybe because of the sheer awe.

The word ridiculous took on a new meaning for me while listening to a podcast episode last weekend-the same day of the quick-trimming. It wasn’t a direct quote, but the implication by one of the guests was this: “God is ridiculous.”

It may sound like rejection, but that’s not even close to how they used that adjective. The extreme opposite.

Modern slang of ridiculous means overwhelmingly amazing. Like Usain Bolt’s Olympic breakout in 2008 in Beijing. Or the view of the mountain backdrop when I walked out from dinner in April in Maui. Or my grand niece’s reaction every time she eats ice cream.

It’s ridiculous to me that this bush has only two blooms…and one of them belongs to this branch…and it’s lusciously pink…and it’s not resting on the pavement. To be honest, and that no one has trimmed it.

It’s a small example, one of infinite number, of God’s ridiculousness.

  • His ridiculous care for all the creatures (beetles, squirrels, bunnies, geckos) I pass during my early morning runs.
  • His ridiculous patience for all the humans he passes…all at once…at all times…without end.
  • His ridiculous attention to meeting needs before they are even realized.
  • His ridiculous forgiveness to all who misrepresent his image he copied to create them.
  • His ridiculous provision for peace at a table set for two in the middle of a battlefield.

Something may be hindering your ability to see it. My instinct is to encourage you to pray about it. That might be too much to ask. If that’s where you find yourself, here’s a prayer you might voice.

God, right now I’m struggling to appreciate you and being amazed by you. Right now, I could use your power, your rest, your peace, your acceptance, your embrace. Truthfully, I’m not really sure what I need. Maybe what I need most is for you to show me something so ridiculous that can only be explained that you provided it. Will you do that for me?

Amaze me. Overwhelm me. Show me your ridiculousness.

“Welcome to My Image!”

This view through the slider of my Florida room continues to grow as a favorite. Certainly gave me thought this weekend.

The palm tree in the background represents how I’m tempted to think life should be. Straight up. No curves. Plenty of abundance visible to all. Healthy and alive. Pretty near perfect.

Maybe that’s why it’s barely visible by the opposing look of the foreground tree. Life represented by what’s closest.

Sudden turns, like the end of a highway with only one way to turn to keep ascending.

And that’s after a three-way option. Still proceeding skyward, just in different directions.

And closer to the base, a couple of knubs that have a story before my time. What happened there? A human? A storm? Both?

What’s close is beauty, uniqueness, character carved over time into one of a kind.

How’s that for a God whisper?

“I’m making you beautiful, unique, with character unlike any other. Welcome to my image!”

Asking and Letting God Do Surgery

More from Mark Chironna’s “Rising With Hope” devotional

Here are three clips:

Before you pray for God to change your circumstances, ask Him to adjust your way of seeing them. (Day 22, Being and Becoming)

You are not a compartmentalized being, and God has not called you to disregard any part of yourself. (Day 23, Living in Your Body)

When He searches your heart, you can trust His gentleness. He will locate the triggers of your unrest, but His surgery is not only about removing what needs to go. It is also about resuscitating the precious parts of your heart, including the hopeful, creative places that have lain dormant under the weight of oppression and disappointment. He will awaken you to the living soul you were becoming and were created to be–the one who became hidden from sight over the course of time.. (Day 26, God in Your Depths)

A Second Flip from Frustration to Appreciation

I was trying to leave ahead of the crowd. Something wasn’t cooperating.

That something was a button on the bottom of my folding table. In order for the table to fold, this button has to release the lock on the leg. Leg 1, easy. Leg 2, a problem.

“Fine.  I’ll walk everything else out to the car and come back.  Stupid button.”

Back at the table, button still not releasing, a lady approached.

“Is this your table?”

First thought, “She thinks I’m stealing a table.”

“Yes.”

“Good. I have a question about something you had on display.”

Her question was very personal. A family situation she needed some direction how to approach.

She seemed to walk away feeling supported and resourced.

I knelt back down to work some more on that stubborn button. Click. And Fold.

In that second frustration flipped to appreciation.

That stuck button delayed me long enough to ease someone’s mind, speak to their heart, and give a little peace.

Opportunity created by delay.

The Edges of Darkness and Hope

More from Mark Chironna’s “Rising With Hope” devotional

Here are three clips:

We live in a culture where everyone wants to win all the time. That is not exactly a Jesus idea. Instead, it makes people who have lost something feel like they don’t belong. (Day 11, Not a Loser)

Anything that is left broken in a family tree will only be passed down to the next generation. (Day 15, A Healing Life)

When what you buried alive rises to the surface of your consciousness, you can move in the direction of healing and greater peace. What looks like the edge of darkness becomes the edge of hope. (Day 21, In the Mercy of God)