And we were not disappointed.

The collection of facts and theology, from a creationist point-of-view, is breathtaking.  It is stunning and overwhelming all at the same time.  Almost impossible to completely take it, the sheer volume of information is enough, if given the proper attention, to truly move you from a position of fact-seeking to a posture of worship.

Let me explain.

Only 30 minutes into our little journey, we found ourselves in a room that, on our last visit, we moved through entirely too quickly.  This time, however, we made the decision to be more methodical and purposed in taking in all the small details and videos that the museum offers.  And in this particular room, there is a collection of 15 very short videos that range from the complexity of the eye to the complexity of the universe.  Each video is well-made and incredibly interesting, but sitting through all 15 seemed to be a bit of a chore.  After the first four or five had elapsed, I was almost ready to move on.  But I also considered the mindset we sought to stick to; methodical and purposed.  So, we stuck it out.

And my heart moved from a basic fact-gaining posture to a softened worship attitude over the next 20 minutes.

Before I knew it, I was overtaken with a real and palpable ache in my heart.  Not for myself or my relationship with our Father, but for those who don’t know about Him.  As I absorbed all the minute details about the vastness of His creation, from eyes to stars and DNA to erosion, I was moved inexplicably to sorrow for those who have no idea what they are missing when they choose to live without Him.  Those who, because of basic ignorance (ignorance as in “without knowledge”) or run-ins with crass and bullying “Christians,” reject the basic idea of God and any hope of a relationship with Him.

To me, it’s as if there are people who have never heard music in any form.  Never been lulled by a beautiful melody or pushed to the verge of tears by an unexpected crescendo.  Never felt the emotions.  Never moved by the power of a symphony.  Never been a part of a sing-along.  In my book, that would be a total and utter tragedy.  Music, by definition, is powerful and moving.  It is a beautiful wonder.  It is part of every society in one way or another.  It is a defining part of each culture just as much as food or religion.  It is something we can’t imagine living without.

Yet, what if there were folks who only heard dissonant, harsh sounds from the instruments that are defined by the gorgeous sounds they were created for?  What if that’s all they’d ever known of “music?”  What if no one ever introduced them to the wonder that is real music?  That would be a sad thing, indeed.

That would be tragic.

I think that’s what I felt like today.  There is so much about God that is wonderful, beautiful, fulfilling, inspiring, creative, incredible, moving, powerful, and thousands upon thousands of other adjectives that only attempt to describe our great God.  There is so much relief knowing that He has it all in control.  There’s so much bewilderment and wonder at the fact that He commanded, by a word, the creation of the universe.  He is so vast and marvelous, I can’t understand it all.  But His creation is paled by the enormity of His love for us.  It’s real and it’s huge.

Why wouldn’t you want a part of that?  Why wouldn’t you want to be so closely embraced by a God like this?  How could you not stand in complete, dumbfounded awe at the mind-numbing complexity of all He has created?

I honestly don’t know.  But I know that those who don’t see God as I do aren’t going to be drawn to Him because I argue them into it.  I know they won’t believe because I really want to fulfill some personal need to “bring them to Jesus.”  No.  That won’t do.

What I desire is to somehow find ways to extend God to those I come into contact with as if they were someone who’s never encountered the beauty of music and I have an MP3 player packed with great tunes and a Bose speaker system.  I want to feel this pain in my heart that beckons me to share this profound greatness I’ve experienced and continue to experience.  I want to approach those who don’t know God with the softness in my heart that I believe God has all the time.

He’s the best thing I’ve ever encountered.  If you don’t know Him that way, I don’t look down on you…my heart hurts for you because you have no idea what you are missing in Him.  If you do know Him, have you had this happen to you?  Have you felt this yearning for others to really know Him simply because you feel sorry for them having missed out?  It’s so very different than feeling compelled to share Jesus simply out of obedience.  I hope it’s my heart being broken and reshaped by a tender and caring God.  I hope it’s me growing to be a bit more like Him.  I hope it causes me to see others a bit more like He does.

Luckily for me, though, I only get this affliction a couple times per year.  My lips are like the Porche of lips…0-60 so quick it makes your head spin.  I go from normal, no-need chops to a hamburger-like orifice on my face in what seems like minutes.  One minute I’m fine; the next, I’m shriveled and cracked, begging for some moisture.  It’s really bizarre.

If you know me, you know that I don’t like anything that has to do with moisturizing.  I don’t like lotion, conditioner, lip balm, hand cream, etc.  Not that those things are bad, I just don’t like using them and I’m stubborn.  I could probably benefit from all of the aforementioned products, but I really don’t like having ooey-gooey stuff on me and I’m reluctant to re-apply when needed.

I’m just not a moisturizer.

That is, until the chapped lips strike.  At that point, all of my wife’s continual application of her Nivea lip balm starts looking pretty smart.  At that point, everything changes.  Her seemingly unending supply of lip medicine begins to look pretty enticing and very wise, all of the sudden.  The next thing I know, I’m groping for relief, placing my lips’ salvation on a little tube,  scavengering through my desk, car, and everywhere between for a portion of the very stuff I detest every other day of the year.

Why?  Why do I suddenly drop the donkey-like hard-headedness over a bit of nominal pain?  Why do my former convictions fall away so effortlessly?  So quickly?

The answer is simple:  knowledge of necessity.

Once the pain and irritation become great enough to require attention, my attention they receive.  In an incredible twist, all my opinions and reasons for disdain become absolutely moot.  All my stubbornness melts and gives way to open, clear and receptive thought.  The hurt makes me heed.  My discomfort opens my eyes.

Faith is a lot like that, really.  My faith, in particular, followed that exact path before I found the real Savior.  The real Jesus.  Raised in church and around other who casually went there on Sundays, I was no stranger to the story of a virgin giving birth, a boy growing into a man, and a carpenter who was acknowledged as God’s son, giving his life to redeem humanity and raising Himself from the grave.  I heard it.  And like the 20 tubes of lip balm around my house, the story sat in a drawer or on a night stand, unwanted and, in my opinion, unneeded for a long time.  That is, until desperation came.  Until my life became so twisted and painful that I finally recognized my need for Him.

And then everything changed.

All of the sudden I had a knowledge of my necessity for someone or something to save me, redeem me and deliver me from the person I had become.  And that someone was Jesus.  He found me at my lowest point, picked me up and dusted me off.  He offered His life to me, and I’ve never looked back.  But He was always there!  He was always around, waiting on me to realize I needed Him.  Waiting for me to become humble enough to admit that I’m full of sin, dishonesty and pain.  He was waiting for me to understand the depth of my need for Him.  And at the very moment I saw it, He was available and ready to provide.

It was the knowledge of necessity.

What about you?  Are you this way?  Did it take you getting to the end of your rope to see Him clearly?  Have you seen Him at all?  Perhaps not.  Perhaps you are reading this and you’ve never fully realized your need for a Savior.  Your need for Jesus.

Either way, I’d love to discuss it all with you…

I’m not immune to it, either.  Not getting something for my wife on this day seems callous, yet bowing down to the goofiness of this money trap is almost more than I can stand.  I am among the lucky few who has a wife that honestly doesn’t want the egregiously overpriced flowers on Valentine’s Day, and for that I am so very thankful!  But we still play along with cards and a small gift or two.  Like I said before, I feel like a jerk if I don’t do something!

So today, I was in Hallmark browsing their card collection in hopes of finding either something really nice and mushy or something absolutely hilarious.  I found something in between and settled on it.  It was a good card that lacked a certain characteristic I found troubling in probably 85% of the other cards available.

Apology.

It seems the overwhelming stereotype for men buying Valentine’s cards is that of a mate who, being caring and loving, is basically disassociated with his significant other throughout the year.  Unattached, uncaring and too busy to give a rip, these targeted men seem to be using Valentine’s Day as a time to reconnect, apologize and say, “I love you, even though I never show it or say it.”

This was a bit disconcerting to me.  I’m a married man with a wonderful wife.  This day already aggravates me by assuming I’ll pony over $75 for flowers I should be buying my wife just because it’s Wednesday and she’s marvelous.  It infuriates me by assuming that I’m distant and distracted, selfish and self-seeking, never stopping to appreciate my wife except when culture tells me to.  It now pushes me to the point of not wanting anything to do with it because it infers that it’s OK to be a jerk to your wife, fiancee’ or girlfriend for the year and on this one, magical day, a card and some overpriced flowers will fix everything.

But I’m not like that.

And I would venture to say that there are many men who aren’t like that.

And, if you are like that, you need to stop being that way.  There’s no two ways about it.

The Bible paints this beautiful picture of how we, men, are to love our spouses (and girlfriends if you even entertain the eventuality of marrying this girl).  ”For husbands, this means love your wives, just as Christ loved the church. He gave up his life for her.  (Ephesians 5: 25)

Giving up your life does not mean buying flowers and candy in February.  It does not mean being distant.  It doesn’t mean you can buy your mate’s affection.

What it does mean is giving yourself, your whole self, to the person you love.  Deciding that you’ll put someone else’s wants above your own and keep that person’s wellfare before yours.  I’m no love guru or marriage counselor, I just read this scripture and realize that it’s a big deal.  Jesus gave up everything for us, His bride.  He gave up His pride, His wants, His agenda, and His life.  All I know to do for my wife is attempt, to the utmost of my ability, to live a life that follows and chases after Christ’s model.  In loving Him and allowing the Holy Spirit to fill me and empower me, I love my wife better.  I become less and less self-centered, and I become more outward-focused.  I learn to give myself away.  I learn to lay my life down for others.  And trust me, she’s the first in line for me on this planet.

I’m not saying, “Be like me.”  I’m no one to mimic or follow.  Follow Jesus.  Give Him charge over your life, let Him change you from the inside out, and I promise you, you’ll never be the same.

And you won’t be the husband buying those awful “sorry I never tell you or show you I love you” cards.  You’ll be one who looks at them and thinks, “That’s just not me.”

1. Doritos – Their campaign focused on consumer-created hilarity…and all their ads were very funny and memorable.
2. Bud Light – Their campaign was, no surprise, all about fun and partying.  Many very funny ads.
3. Hyundai Sonata – Nothing flashy or funny or cutting edge…just a good-looking vehicle from a company making the move from mediocre manufacturer to premium car builder.  It made me turn my head more than once.

And that’s about it.  That was my take-away from all the ad blitz.  The first two companies were not offering any new product or pricing; they were simply attempting to get their product stuck in viewers’ minds, and it worked very well.  The Sonata took a different approach, offering a new vehicle style and build at a shockingly low price.  It really got my attention and made me think, “Maybe I’ll check that out sometime.”  In both cases, they got what they were searching for.  They made me, the consumer, give some of my precious brain time to their product…to the tune of millions of dollars.

All this made me think about those of us who follow Jesus.  In advertising, there is a basic goal in mind:  have something great, incite a desire to share it with others, and figure out how to do that in the most creative and impacting way possible.  Sounds familiar, right?

We, the body of Christ, have something better than great.  We have something that is not only life-saving, but life-changing.  We have the desire to share it built right in.  Now we just have to figure out how to share it creatively.  Pretty simple, right?

So why does it become such a chore to “share Jesus” with others?  Why is this such a hang-up for followers?  Is advertising the answer?  Billboards and signs and catchy jingles and commercials…are these viable ways to reach people with the life-giving message of the Gospel?

I don’t think so.  I think great products in the market place make a long-standing impact when their quality and value are proven over time.  When word-of-mouth sets in and takes hold, there’s no stopping it.  When people take something seriously, they are serious about sharing it with those they know.  I don’t think advertising is a reasonable answer to our dilemma because our advertisements usually don’t focus on Jesus or the power of His Spirit in us, they focus on us.  They focus on our church, our style of worship, our services, our staff, our needs, our childcare, our…our…our.  When is the last time you saw a Doritos commercial about the Kroger or Wal-Mart stores they are sold in?  When is the last time you saw a Bud Light commercial all about a restaurant that serves it?  Easy answer here:  you don’t and you won’t.  These companies are interested in talking about, promoting and touting their “great thing,” not those who house it.

Are you seeing the connection here?

Mass advertising isn’t the answer.  Making our gathering spaces more trendy and cool isn’t the answer.  Attempting to advertise Jesus as a product to be sold takes us nowhere.  People have heard it before.  They are searching for childcare, youth programs and smoke and lights in the sanctuary, but they are blind to what their actual need is.  That need is Jesus.  That need is the saving grace of the Gospel.  And we can put up signs and make a Facebook Fan Page for Jesus, but the truth is, people will respond when they see evidence of the Gospel in our lives.  Word-of-mouth will always be the way Jesus’ teachings will spread.  It’s always been that way and will always remain.  Big-time advertising is disconnected and distant.  The Good News is closer than your skin.  Ads try to get inside your head so the next time your in the market for their product, you choose a particular brand.  Jesus penetrates to your heart and soul, bringing the understanding that there is a void that exists in us all that only He can fill, and He’s the only one that can fill it!  And when that revelation comes, you really want to share it any way you can.

Maybe I’m off here.  I’m not sure.  I just know how I feel about advertising Jesus.  We do have a greatness to share, but how are we to do it effectively?  How do we do this the way Jesus instructed us to?  Is our fear of sharing with others a clear sign that we don’t fully grasp what He means to us and what He’s done for us?  How do we make disciples?  Can you do that by simply throwing info at people over a radio station or television?  The internet?  These are just my thoughts on it…

What are yours?

All that being said, there are hundreds and thousands of critical, political and religious reviews about this movie floating around web, and I don’t plan to add to the noise.  I read many of these reviews before seeing the movie and walked in fully expecting to have some pretty strong reactions to the film.  And that didn’t disappoint, either.  I had to fight back the blogger in me and simply sit back and enjoy the film for what it is:  entertainment.  And after all the tension, adventure and emotional reaction subsided, I found myself walking out of the theater with one word in mind.  

Wow.

After the drive home, however, my mind kept taking me back to a specific point in the movie that I really didn’t react to during my viewing.  I’ll speak in general terms so I don’t “spoil” anything for you.  This particular point of the story is pretty easy to see coming from the opening of the movie, though, so I don’t think I’m giving anything away here.

Near the end, the main character of the movie has basically switched allegiance.  He’s found the Na’vi’s way of life to be a better way.  They’ve embraced him as such, and he sides with them and makes the decision to defy his own species.  Again, pretty stock ideas, here.  But there was a line that the leader of the human army spits out at the main character, Jake Sully.

“How does it feel to be a traitor to your own race?”

Jake’s reply?  A guttural hiss.  A sound that the Na’vi make at enemies throughout the movie.  It was at this point you see his full embrace of the Na’vi’s culture and life.  He has become one of them.  He has decided on a better way.  And of all the politically and religiously charged ideology that exists in the movie, this is what I could not forget.

I suppose it’s because it reminds me a lot of following Jesus.  We are born and raised in this world and more specifically in our culture.  We eat, sleep and breathe it.  We are shaped by it.  We learn to exist within the boundaries that culture dictates and our needs and wants become defined by our surroundings and those surrounding us.  We are part of the system.  We are one of them.

And along comes Jesus, in full measure both God and man, and He brings along a new way to live:  interactions change; reactions change; mindsets shift; life can’t stay the same.  And we get the choice to follow along or not.  The Gospel is extended and we choose to buy in or not.  We choose this drastically changed life or we choose to stick with what we were brought up in.  We all choose.

And when we choose Jesus, His Kingdom, and this new way of life, we also choose a tough road.  We invite upon ourselves the the scorn of our peers when we choose to extend grace instead of judgement.  We volunteer for shame when we don’t respond with the sword.  We risk embarrassment when we become, like our Savior, a servant.  When following after Jesus becomes our life, it’s an all-or-nothing transaction.  He requires our whole life.  He demands nothing less.  And in return for our broken and hurting lives, He gives His life.  But His life is anything but broken.  His life is eternal.  His life produces life in others.  His life builds up what our life tears down.  It’s a radical shift.  It’s doing everything different.

And it’s a better way.

When you choose it, though, there will be those who respond with the question:  ”How does it feel to be a traitor?  How does it feel to turn your back on the things you’ve always done?  How does it feel to be a wimp?  Why didn’t you hit them back?  Why didn’t you tear into them?  Why would you lower and debase yourself by serving them?  What’s wrong with you?  Be a man!”

Who knows how it will play out for you.  I know of many circumstances where following Jesus made me look like a traitor to my culture.  ”Everyone does it” just doesn’t work for me anymore, though.  And I’m OK with that.  Actually, I’m extremely good with that.  Because every time I let go of something that brings glory to God, I gain life and fulfillment like I’d never known before Jesus.

What about you?  Have you had those times where you were tempted to compromise your walk with Christ in order to not have to turn your back on your culture?  Have you ever been made fun of for your choices that you knew pleased God?  Can we be cultural traitors and still function well in our society?

I covet your responses…

The Super Bowl.

And while fans and general spectators anticipate the game with different levels of urgency, the consensus question among most American citizens in the next few weeks will be, “So, where are you watching the game?”

You know it.  I know it.  Just about everyone knows it.  The Super Bowl is a big deal.  And what largely-publicized event can occur without a few disputes and dramas present?

Watching The Today Show this morning, my attention was nabbed the moment the subject of Super Bowl advertising came up.  On the show with Kathie Lee was a man by the name of Donny Deutsch, and the two of them were discussing a dispute that has evolved in the last few days concerning CBS, a commercial with Tim Tebow that voices a Pro-Life message, and a commercial from mancrunch.com advertising an all-male dating service.  Check the video after the break.  Particularly from 2:15 to 5:45…  

I’m hoping you didn’t pay too much attention to those first couple minutes and stopped the video around 5:45.  That show can be awful sometimes!  =)

The reason this particular segment really caught my attention, though, was near the end of the Super Bowl section (at about 5:00), they began asking some real serious questions.  And I’m not sure whether they really understood the scope of those questions or not.  If you listen, you hear almost a helpless cry for someone to answer the petition:  Who draws the lines?  Who’s right is it to draw those lines?

And in a society marked by a slow and steady distancing from a sovereign God, that question truly becomes both desperate and unanswerable.  And that’s a shame.

You see, without a just, moral, and perfectly righteous Creator, we don’t have a moral compass at all.  That’s not to say we don’t have the innate ability to do good things or help others or make decisions that benefit society, but we don’t do it on our own.  The Bible tells us that God made us in His own image (Genesis 1:27).  We have His fingerprints all over us.  The things we choose to do and not to do are based on a sense of morality that we neither invented nor perfected.  That morality comes directly from our Father.  It’s His goodness in us.  And when we decidedly distance ourselves from Him, we distance ourselves from true righteousness and justice.  We try to draw lines to determine what’s right and wrong, based solely on reason and logic, negating the source of our morality.  When that happens, everything becomes relative.   What’s good for me isn’t for you and vice-versa.  And inevitably, we find ourselves able to justify any means simply for the ends.

That’s a scary place to be.  It’s frightening to think that we could condone basically anything based on a sliding scale of right and wrong.  Lives get destroyed because we don’t want to step on toes.  We don’t want draw hard lines.  We don’t want to offend anyone, even at the risk of lives lost.

This is a huge, debatable, messy conversation to have, but it’s worth having.  What do you think about this?  Who draws the lines?  Is it about standing up for what we believe is right or what God says is right?  Who’s the enforcer?  When do we have to step up and realize that our wrongful actions that go directly against what God instructs only bring about chaos and destruction in our lives?  When do we stop blaming God for having so many rules and start seeing His laws and decrees as life-giving and life-saving?  What will it take for us to see Jesus, not as a political stepping-stone, but as the source of true life?  The centerpiece of our morality?  The reason we have any good in us at all?

And on, and on, and on.  A hundred more questions that cause a thousand more.

What are your answers?  What are your questions?

I covet them both…

And targeted they were.

Only minutes into the game, I knew Kentucky was headed for trouble.  Bad passes, missed layups and general chaos marked the team I had just watched dismantle Arkansas just three short days before.  Where there was once a supremely confident, well-oiled machine of a basketball team, there now stood a group of guys that looked as if they weren’t quite sure what needed to be done and exactly who was supposed to do it.

They were in a funk.  

And they stayed there for the entirety of the game.  All the way to the final buzzer that concluded the first loss of the season for the guys that could seemingly do no wrong.  Was it just a matter of time?  Yes.  Did I know it was coming?  Sure.  Did they need this to grow up a bit as a team?  Absolutely.

Did it feel good to watch it happen?  Not one bit.

And that’s the point.  There’s been a conscious knowing in the minds of fans that this was inevitable.  We’ve all known that the youth of this team would give way, the loss would ensue, and the necessary adapting and growth would hopefully follow.  But knowing something and dealing with it are two very different things.  I never said I’d like it.  I never said I would be upset if it just never happened.  After all, maybe they could do all their growing and maturing through wins all season.

Maybe so, but I think we all know that’s just not how it works.

Instead, the tough times come.  It rains on everyone.  Trials will befall us all.

And in those times, we choose our response.  We choose to become bitter or to become stronger from it.  We choose to grow or to shrink back.  We choose to learn or become more ignorant and callous.  We struggle.  We battle.  We decide.

For me, it always comes back to this single idea:   “And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.”  It’s not a “we think” statement or a “we’re fairly certain” clause.  This is a “we know” declaration.  We know God has it in control.  We know God is for us.  We know he will cause all things to work together for our good, assuming we belong to Him because of Jesus’ sacrifice for us all.

And this knowledge brings hope.  It brings life.  It extinguishes death.

I try with everything in me to see my failures and challenges in this most difficult of lights, admitting unashamedly that I fail miserably many times.  Humbly exposing my frailty and weakness, but at the same time acknowledging my absolute need for a Savior.  For an unconditional love.  For Jesus.

What about you?  Have you ever carried this attitude into your difficult situations, staring defeat in the face, looking for a way to grow more because of your failure?  Have you let hardships beat you down until you can visualize no apparent hope?  Have you had success in the midst of catastrophe and hope in the middle of fracture because of your faith?

I’ve been all over the board on this one, and as always, I covet your responses…

I suppose it’s easy to get cynical and jaded when things like this happen.  We question God about the why’s and question one another about the how’s.

How do we respond?  How do we understand all of this?  How can I help?  How can we, as individuals, make any difference?

In a culture of super-heroes, CEO’s, sports stars, and celebrities, we really have a hard time grasping onto the idea that a huge group of people doing small things on individual levels can make substantial impacts.  We rely on individuals doing singular, mind-blowing things that aren’t common or realistic in order to see change happen.  We wait for the game-changers.  The heroes.  The saviors.  

Contrast that mentality with this one.   Shortly following the disaster in Haiti, a company by the name of Mobile Accord began a campaign with one idea:  make small donations easy, quick and realistic by the use of cell phones.  With a simple text, you agree to be billed for a $10 donation that will appear on your next bill.  Realistic.  They were not attempting to be the hero and donate, out of their own pockets, enough money to make a dent in the need in Haiti.  Instead, they realized the power of harnessing the group conciousness of the masses to the tune of $20 million as of 5 days ago.

$20,000,000.00!!!

That’s not a deniable amount of money.  It’s not a nice donation.

It is substantial.  It’s difference-making.

And it’s a perfect example of community.

There are literally hundreds of initiatives going on right now to extend hope and help to the people of Haiti.  Donations being gathered, money being sent, and people travelling abroad…all in the hopes that their actions, though small in the scope of such tragedy, will make some kind of difference.

It’s amazing to consider all the things that are happening just in our home town.  But it’s even more amazing to consider that this kind of thing is happening all over the country.  Small works that, alone, would make little more that a drip in the bucket.  Yet, because they are all happening at the same time with the same overall goal in mind, these small efforts will make for a giant impact.  It’s an amazing phenomenon.  It’s an encouraging idea.

And the Bible speaks of this specific idea of community in the book of Corinthians.  In it, Paul tells us that we are, in Christ, a part of a larger body.  We are all part of a larger whole.  Yet, we are instructed that we can’t be superstars and we can’t all be alike.  Imagery of a body made of only eyes brings a full understanding that it makes little sense to ever think that we should all do the same things in the same ways.  Instead, God has given us each unique abilities and functions that serve the greater good of the community.  (1 Corinthians 12:14-20)

This is community.  This is God’s idea of everyone being involved.  This is The Kingdom that Jesus spoke of while on this earth.  You don’t have to be the hero to matter in the Kingdom.  You don’t have to be the superstar.  Instead, God promises a unique and specific role for everyone.  A calling to be exactly who God made you to be.  And while culture might tell all of us something very different, our Father not only condones little people doing little things for the glory of the whole, He actually prescribes it.  Because, this way, He gets the glory in our efforts.  He takes center stage.  He is given all the credit.

I don’t know about you, but that is extremely refreshing to me.  I can rest assured that I don’t have to take on the entire task of extending the Gospel to everyone in the world.  I don’t have to do this alone.  I don’t have to be the next Billy Graham.  And as great as Billy was as a man of God, he didn’t even come close to reaching the entire world.  He just did his part.

And I have to do my part.

I have to reach those God puts into my life.

You have to reach those God puts in yours.

And together, we are the body of Christ.  Together, we can actually make some differences.  Together, there’s no limit to what God can do through us.

Now, lets get something straight here.  This is not to say that most of the people I come into contact with are undesirable or aggravating in the least.  Most of these folks are great people and become ever-nicer the longer we get to know them.  I’d like to think that I could chalk that up to the friendliness of our office and relationships building as a result, but I’m sure it has a lot to do with folks getting better and feeling better after any length of time under our care.  There’s just something about a hurting back that causes people to not really be themselves, if you know what I mean!

Now that we have that all figured out, the aforementioned thought above only serves to highlight just how awesome this particular patient is.  In a large group of personalities and types, most of which are plain delightful, this guy stands out to me…and I want to let you know why.  

Wylie (not his real name.  Thank you HIPPA!) is one of those people who seems to have figured out all that is good in life.  He keeps it simple, loves to fish, addresses everyone with total respect, carries a smile on his face despite having severe pain in his back, has a grasp on the things that truly matter, has a booming voice and matching mannerisms that light up the room he is in, and is probably the most genuine person I’ve ever met.  Do you know anyone like this?  I sure hope so!  He just has a way of being himself that is so utterly infectious that it makes you want to lose every bit of pretense, pride and selfishness you might carry just so you might be a bit more like him.  Just so you might affect those around you like he does.  It’s quite bizarre.

And as much as I love it when he comes in our office, I really had to do some serious soul-searching the other day in regards to my friend.  Let me paint this picture for you.

I’ve known Wylie for about 4 years.  He was a patient of ours about that long ago and he stuck around for about a year as he was getting care and healing up.  As most patients do, he stopped coming in after being on a maintenance schedule for a while and I never heard from him again.  And I couldn’t blame him.  He lives about an hour away from our office, so making the trip really needed a bit more urgency than just a simple maintenance visit.  I understood and figured, if all went well with him, I might never see him again.  And every once and awhile, his file would come up and I would say to my co-worker, “This guy is really awesome.  Maybe one day you’ll meet him.”

And that day came a couple weeks ago.  Out of the blue I got a message that Wylie was coming in and that he had thrown his back out.  And I ashamedly admit I was excited!  Not that he had hurt himself, but that he was going to be coming to the office again.  I couldn’t wait for Connie (my co-worker) to meet him!  I began telling her my real and honest opinions of Wylie, making sure to include pretty much everything I mentioned above, waiting eagerly to watch as he lived up to everything I built him up to be.

And he didn’t disappoint.

He came in and we worked him through as a we would anyone else, but he left his incomparable impression immediately.  Connie saw the same things I did.  She saw exactly why I was excited and why this guy was my all-time favorite.

But after he left, I was faced with a few other emotions and realities.  As other patients continued to file in that day, I had to really consider some things.  My reaction to them was, shall we say, a bit less than excited.  Flat, unmoved and not exactly thrilled, I had to confront my attitude towards all the other patients that I see on a regular basis.  Obviously, I can list and recall all sorts of things about Wylie that make him a great patient and a great person, but did that make my reaction to those things acceptable from the perspective of healthcare giver?  Is it really alright for me to have favorites?

Unavoidable?  Perhaps.  Acceptable?  Not really.

You see, I come across all sorts of people from countless walks of life with immeasurably different perspectives and attitudes.  I get the full gambit.  And while it is pretty natural and honestly expected, from the perspective of a follower of Jesus it is not a good characteristic to have favorites.  And when you find yourself in a position that shows you to be so un-Christlike, it is very humbling.  Here’s what I mean.

Jesus, being in the full nature of God, showed no favorites.  He didn’t come to save those who were well, but came to rescue the sick and needy.  (Acts 10: 34-35, Matthew 9:12)

In short, he didn’t have favorite patients.  He didn’t classify us.  He didn’t shun those who weren’t bright and cheery, positive and uplifting.  He doesn’t cast me to the side because I’ve been a jerk or haven’t brightened His day today.   Nope.  He just continues to love me, no more or less than anyone else.  He favors no one and yet chooses everyone.  We’re all invited.  We’re all loved.  He gave Himself for each of us and cleanses us continually.  And while I would love to just shower praise on those who are desirable and those I feel are worthy of my time and affection, I have to stop and consider what Jesus does with me.  I have no right to belong to Him.  I have, just like everyone else, fallen so far short of the standard on so many occasions.  I’ve failed miserably.  But in He comes to change that story.  Not to make me perfect or without sin, but to clean me up from it and put me in right standing with our Father.  And as His Holy Spirit continues to work in me and shape me, I know I’ll continue to have these moments of painful shaping, realizing all too well that my ways and His ways are not the same.  That His life in me will always run opposite of what my human nature desires.  And that I’ll always have a choice to make.  My way or His?  And when I choose my way, the punishment is simply a life not lived to the fullest.  A life not lived the best way.  His way.

I don’t know about you, but I’m learning one day at a time how much better His ways are, and I’m figuring out that I follow Him not because He forces me to, but because it’s foolish not to.

What about you?

If you watch this video, there seems to be nothing hateful or aggravated in his statement.  It’s curious, however, that he chooses to comment on Haiti’s “pact with the devil” during its liberation from France.  As the story goes, Haiti makes an agreement with satan that delivers them from control by France and is now cursed by this pact.  Check it out after the break!  

As a Bible-believing Christian, I have to understand that all those who are separated from God are under the curse of sin.  It’s in all of our DNA.  Adam and Eve made that choice.

The Bible also says it rains on the just and the unjust.  That all have fallen short of God’s glory.  No one is righteous on their own.  That God has no favorites.  (Matthew 5:45, Romans 3:23, Romans 2:11)

This all leaves a whole lot to think about.  Do comments such as these resonate with your view of God and salvation through Jesus?  If we are all under the curse of sin without Jesus, all in the same boat, what would cause God to dish out such violent punishment on only certain people?  If God judges people in such a way, why are there murderers and rapist who roam free?  Wouldn’t they have their car blown up by God if this was how it all worked?

I don’t have a ton of answers on this one, obviously.  I don’t agree with him, but I’m not going to bash him or call him a fool, either.  Maybe he misspoke.  Maybe he fully believes that and clearly communicated it.  In my book, he has the room to make that error and not be demolished for it.  I just hope the damage he’s done with his words to those who don’t believe what I do is repairable.

Drop comments below in hopes that this might be a great discussion!

I agree 100%.

I’ll be the first to admit that I have, in the past, utilized the text feature on my phone while behind the wheel.  Guilty.  But I’ve never experienced any pain, suffering or injury.  I have veered into the shoulder area and/or crossed the sacred yellow line a few times, but never actually had an accident.  And I would say, before this email, I was about 85% on the side of being against texting while driving.  In my head, from my small swerves and questionable attention to detail, I had surmised that this was a habit worth avoiding.  At least as long as there wasn’t anything urgent or pressing, anyway.

But when push came to shove, I would pick that phone up and text away if I really needed to communicate at that moment.  (What did we do before cell phones, anyway?)

You see, the idea that I could really, really hurt myself or someone else had not become a reality for me just yet.  It hadn’t hit home.  And while I didn’t want that realization through a collision or a trip into a ditch, I knew in the back of my mind that I really shouldn’t test fate with this.

I knew it.

But I didn’t.  Not really. Not until that email.  

And it changed my mind.  In just a few, quick moments, I was completely and utterly convinced that sending text messages while driving was a serious error in judgement.  Pain and suffering would occur.  Maybe worse.  Maybe death.

What was that email, you may be asking?  Remember how I said it started out nice and easy?  A warning and a plea.  A reinforcement of a great idea.

It did not stay that way.

What appeared after the sharp warning and heart-felt message were a handful of pictures showing the carnage of a trunk and rear tires that used to be a car.

Look at this for a second.  Let it sink it.  Deal with your reaction to something so bizarre and awful.  Not in a public-service-announcement kind of way, but in a try-to-feel-what-I-felt kind of way.  Because I glossed over these photos.  Sure, it’s bad, but I’ve seen some pretty jacked-up cars both in pictures and in person.  It’s almost as if the vision is so surreal, we can’t actually calculate or handle it.  I didn’t.  I just thought to myself man that’s pretty bad.  Shouldn’t be texting and driving for sure.  I really need to buckle down on that.

But the worst was yet to come.

What followed those pictures was a warning of upcoming, graphic content.  It basically said not to look if you had a weak stomach or if you were eating.  I figured I was fine to look.  How bad would it really be?

Worst possible images.  The worst.  Period.  I almost lost the lunch I hadn’t eaten yet.

Graphic somehow doesn’t describe these photos.  It’s one thing to see people mutilated and killed in a war or action movie.  That’s not comfortable or fun, but it’s handleable in my mind because it’s not real.  I know it, you know it, and my brain can deal with that.  But these were real.  These photos were brutal.  They were horrible.

I won’t get into great detail, but they showed the man who had been driving, now in three separate pieces, and they didn’t hide anything.  It was, without doubt, the most horrifying thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.  And I only saw two of the photos for a brief second.  I couldn’t handle any more.

It’s quite easy to say, with no hesitation, that I will never text and drive again.  It can wait.  I can wait.  The other person can wait.  Yet, I still find myself having to actively coerce myself not to do it.  Why?!!?  The first couple days after seeing that email terrified me so badly that I wouldn’t even consider picking up the phone with my hands on the wheel.  For that matter, I was hesitant to even mess with the stereo or heater/AC controls.  It really messed with my mind.  Factor in the small fender bender I had and the death of an aquaintance due to a car accident all happening the week prior to this email, and I was a poster-child for defensive driving.

I was scared to death.  Scared of death…and paralyzed by it.

If you know me at all, you know that is not the way I live or interact with anyone or anything.  Sure, I get nervous or fearful from time to time, but not like this.  Not this way.  Not to the point that I can’t function in normal circumstances.  But here I was, driving under the speed limit, heart beating a bit faster, constantly trying to fend off anything that could happen.  I started thinking I might never get back to normal.  I thought I might end up, at 30 years of age, being one of those people that drives 10mph under every speed limit.  I thought I had at least 30-40 more years before that point!

I can say now, however, that the tide of my fear and anxiety has receded.   My mind is back to normal (that could be a stretch).  I’m back to some semblance of regularity.  And while it’s good to be able to drive in a sane fashion again, as I said above, I find myself having to resist the urge to pick up my phone while driving.  I have to tell myself “no.”  As a matter of fact, I just put my proverbial foot down on myself when tempted to return a text only a couple of hours ago while driving.

After the complete pendulum of emotion and conviction, how in all of creation could I possible even consider doing something that I was so completely convinced not to do?  How could my guard drop so simply?  What happened to my solid foundation?  My convictions?

I suppose it has everything to do with fear, it’s ability to shock us into action, and it’s inability to keep us there.

Fear has this power to stir us up, get us moving and really change some of our habits and activities.  Yet, if you think back to changes that have been made from a motivation of fear, you discover that those changes never last.  They are never deep, lasting changes.  They are simply temporary, and usually paralyzing.

Take relationships, for example.  You get hurt by someone you care about, and you are fearful to ever commit to a person or group of people again.  Paralysis.  But, over time, you open yourself up again, make new connections, and move on with life.  The shut-down is only temporary.  The fear subsides and you return to what you were wired to do in the first place:  building relationships.

I think our relationship with God is viewed this way by many.  Too often, believers or not, we reduce following Jesus to fear-mongering and threats of a fiery demise upon death.  We paint the whole of the Gospel with only one color:  condemnation.  And while there is plenty of evidence of an eternal separation from God without Jesus and language of a lake of fire, a closer examination finds Jesus not talking much about hell at all.  Instead, He speaks of new life and a new kingdom here on earth.  He speaks about how that life in that kingdom look.  He emphasizes what can be had, not what’s to be avoided.  (Matthew 10:7, Matthew 23:13, Matthew 25:34)

Life, not fear of death.

And as powerful as fear is as a motivator, it doesn’t last.  Sure, I can frighten you with vivid images of hell and an eternity of burning and fire and brimstone.  I can scare myself, to be honest.  But, if we are truthful, that fear might motivate a change for a few days or weeks, but it will eventually wane, leaving us with a belief system built on a fear we no longer possess.  What good is that?

Hell is real.  Separation from God is real and it’s awful.  A life encompassed in the darkness of sin is a life lost.  But what if we started seeing our salvation not only as an escape from a horrible eternity, but, more importantly, as an entrance into a wonderful, new reality?  An invitation to a New Kingdom instituted by God, opened up through the death and resurrection of Jesus, and lead through the workings of His Holy Spirit?  Then, instead of having to be reminded of how scared of hell we are, we can be reminded and motivated by seeing God’s grace and love at work in our lives, affecting those around us.  That is something to live for!  That is something that moves people day by day, year by year into the places God has called them.  It is in the knowledge that God has opened up life to each one of us that I gain my strength to do what He has asks of me.  (John 1:16-17, Acts 20:24, Romans 3:24)

Fear will only lead to complacency.  It will only cause you to figure out what you can do to avoid punishment.  What you can do to simply get by.

God’s grace is totally different.  It causes you respond and react not because you are fearful of punishment, but because you are eager to see what He’ll do next.  You act and do simply because you start to understand, to the full extent, how much He loves you.   You live your life not dominated by fear, but by love.  And that life, my friends, is a life worth living.  It is a life that we’ll take with us into eternity.  It’s an everlasting life.

Today, Tricia and I visited the Georgia Aquarium and got the chance to just sit and take in the absolute grandeur of the creative ability of God. Whales and Manta Ray, spanning up to 15-20 feet, swam, flipped and simply existed in front of our eyes as we simply sat in awe. It was quite remarkable. Sure, you could just look at fish, get annoyed with multitudes of people and kids everywhere, fume over the 30 minute coat check, and be disgusted by the fish smell in the place and completely miss this. Totally contained and out of original context, the size, movement, and stark beauty of these creatures is completely extraordinary…if you stop and take it in. 

Upon walking in the door, I didn’t do that. Tired and bemused by the crowd and my hurting feet, I was here because I knew Tricia wanted to come and because it’s just one of those things “you just need to do” in Atlanta. So I came, hoping to maybe see something cool enough to be worth my while. And as I frequently have to do, I must admit that I came here with the wrong attitude and the wrong motives.

But that changed quite quickly.

As I began to slow down, take a breath, and observe all the wonder around me, I had to give acknowledgment to God’s undeniable greatness. His indisputable, unexplainable creativity. He truly is unique and fully awesome!

What about you? Have you ever been a bit reluctant to stop and take in God’s creation? Ever been too busy to appreciate the world in which we live? How might we, believers or not, stop and enjoy God’s imagination a bit more? What might be our reaction if we did?

I’d be fascinated at your answers to these questions and comments these thoughts…

Well done fellas.  Pretty good start, I’d say.  Impressive to say the least.

But that was hardly what all the confetti, cakes, guest speakers, former players, excess media coverage, custom printed “UK2K” shirts, commemorative tickets and general hoopla were all about.

Not even close.  

If you haven’t heard through your news feed of choice or by the title of this post exactly what all the fuss was about, let me give you a hint.  UK, with that single win, became the first NCAA Division I Men’s Basketball program to achieve 2000 wins.  The one and only.  The first.

That’s a pretty big deal.

Pretty much, 2000 of anything is quite substantial.  Lets think about it for a minute.  2000 pounds is a ton. That’s really heavy.  2000 years is twenty centuries.  Jesus walked the Earth that many years ago (He would have been just a boy, but still!).  $2000 could buy some pretty cool stuff.  A new MacBook, a really sweet LED TV, a front-load washer and dryer…

My point is this:  2000 is a substantial number.  It’s big.  It’s important.  It’s large enough to get some real recognition, and there was plenty of that going around on the evening of December 21.

My wife and I watched the game with the general assumption, along with every single person tuning in (Drexel University folks included), that UK had the game in the bag.   We weren’t really concerned at all with the normal anticipation before a benchmark game.  This one was over before it began.

We were, however, completely lost in the celebration that surrounded the entire evening.   The pre-game show consisted of interview after interview of past UK basketball stars, both players and coaches, and culminated with one of my favorite players actually calling the game:  Jamal Mashburn.  It was a cool vibe.  I was digging it.

The game came and went, Kentucky drilled Drexel, and the post game continued on much as the pre-game did.  There was a ceremony on the floor where famed coach Joe B. Hall spoke along with the great Adolph Rupp’s son, sprinkled with confetti and cheered by the roar of the crowd between each sentence.  Coach Calipari said a few words about how proud he was of the team and where they had come, being sure to continually point out that they still have a long way to go. And then they passed the microphone to Patrick Patterson, junior forward on this current UK team, and he said…

Something completely forgettable.

No, really, I have no idea what he said.  And that’s no knock to Patrick Patterson at all.   He’s an incredible player, top-notch student and I think the world of him.   I’m sure what he had to say was relevant and moving, but I was gone the moment they passed him the mic.

I was, in that moment, struck by a tiny revelation that hit me like a Mack truck.   Here was Patrick Patterson with the rest of this dominant, 12-0 basketball team, standing on the same stage with some of the all-time greats of Kentucky Basketball, sharing his thoughts about what it meant to reach 2000 victories.

And my only thought was how could you possibly answer that question?

How could any of the kids on this team even have a clue about how to respond?

Think about it.  The seniors on this squad have probably only contributed 80-90 wins to the grand total.  That’s nothing to shirk at, but in the grand scheme of things, that’s a pretty paltry total, don’t you think?  We’re talking about 2000 wins here.  Speaking in percentages, the most experienced among them has only been a part of one half of a percent of the total.  0.5%.  That’s like someone asking you to lend them fifty cents out of the $100 in your pocket.

It’s nothing.  It’s less than a percent.   It’s drop in the bucket.

Yet these guys, some only 12 games into their collegiate careers, were getting to live out this sizable moment, on a grand stage, almost as if this was their achievement.

Not that I blame them.  I’d be celebrating right along with them if I was in their shoes.  It was a huge night.  It was substantial.  There was much reason for jubilation.  They didn’t really deserve all the attention, but who would?  Given only so many years to make an impact at the school, every player throughout history has always been caged by the same barricade:  4 years and you’re gone.  That’s it.  It’s over.  And best-case-scenario, you pull out anywhere between 100-120 victories in that time.  After that, your contribution to the whole is done.  Your piece of the puzzle is placed and it’s someone else’s turn.

And that’s what struck me as being profound.  These kids were getting to cash-in on a prize that’s been in preparation for a little over 100 years.  100 years of winning, losing, sweating and bleeding by multitudes of players, coaches, athletic directors and rabid fans came to a head on this very special night.  So many people laid the foundation.  So many had a hand in this overall feat.  Countless players that will never be recognized.  Numerous faceless fans.  Legions of behind-the-scenes supporters never realized.

But that’s how it works, isn’t it?  So many times, the ones who lay the foundations are easily forgotten.  The places we find ourselves as a society are taken for granted.  The roads that got us to where we are are easily placed in our quick-to-forget memory.

But it’s not all bad news…

You see, God uses this principle in a great and awesome way.  As followers of Jesus, we tend to have this goofy mindset that the entire process of leading a friend or acquaintance to the redeeming life of Christ relies solely upon us.  It’s as if we have to be “super christian” and seal the deal.  If not, we weren’t a very good witness.  If we share the redeeming power of the God we follow and the recipient of our story doesn’t choose to follow Jesus, we feel like a failure and a broken christian.

And that really needs to stop.

This mentality sets up some unstable and destructive mindsets.  It sets the stage for “superstar” christians.  Do-it all evangelicals.  Another-notch-in-the-belt christianity.

And that’s a shame.

Following Jesus has always been and will always be about living a life, all day and every day, in a new way:  fueled with passion from the power of His Spirit living in each of us.  A life that reflects Jesus and points to Him at all times.  A life that impacts everyone around us, not just those that our primitive wisdom targets.

Maybe if we can each get out from under the weight of “I have to win the world today” christianity, we could start living our lives in such a way that we make tiny but meaningful impacts throughout the whole of our lives.  Maybe we could see that our lives lived for Jesus today may lead someone to accept His salvation next year, even if they move away and we never see them again.  Doesn’t it sound so much better to do this as a huge team that spans decades and centuries instead of individuals that span just a few years.

Perhaps your wins during your “career” as a follower of Jesus won’t be celebrated with hoopla and fanfare, but they might just be part of the foundation being laid in countless lives that one day will become part of the Kingdom we all share in.

And that will be worth some celebration, won’t it?

Last week, my wife and I were a part of a production called Behold the Lamb of God, a musical re-telling of the coming of Christ into the world.  Before the main performance, there was a section called Songwriters in the Round that we were also asked to participate in.  We gladly accepted and began the process of figuring out what songs to perform that would fit within our gifting…two singers and a guitar are limited in some ways.

The standards were considered:  ”Silent Night”, “O Holy Night”, “What Child Is This” and the like were all thoughtfully scrutinized, studied and thought over.  What songs would faithfully capture this picture of great humility that is Jesus born in a manger?  What songs would adequately convey His grandeur and basic awesomeness?

“What Child is This” made the cut.  Full of revelation about this dual role of Jesus both as man and Son of God seemed absolutely fitting and perfect for a setting such as this.  Plus, I already had a good arrangement worked out that I enjoyed playing immensely.

What about that other one, though?  What would work?

“What about ‘I Want a Hippopotamus For Christmas?’” my wife chimed in.  I gave her a cursory glance and continued on in pursuit of what we were really going to be singing.  I mean, who in their right mind would sing such a goofy song on such a big stage?  Who would want to do that?

Tricia would.  

But what about the serious side of Christmas?  This was supposed to be all about Jesus and His birth, not some zany little girl singing about her insatiable desire for a hippopotamus.  What good could come out of singing such a shallow, commercialized Christmas song like this?  Read these lyrics and you tell me:

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
Don’t want a doll, no dinky Tinker Toy
I want a hippopotamus to play with and enjoy

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
I don’t think Santa Claus will mind, do you?
He won’t have to use our dirty chimney flue
Just bring him through the front door, that’s the easy thing to do

I can see me now on Christmas morning, creeping down the stairs
Oh what joy and what surprise when I open up my eyes
To see a hippo hero standing there

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
No crocodiles, no rhinoceroses
I only like hippopotamuses
And hippopotamuses like me too

Mom says the hippo would eat me up, but then
Teacher says a hippo is a vegeterian

There’s lots of room for him in our two-car garage
I’d feed him there and wash him there and give him his massage
I can see me now on Christmas morning, creeping down the stairs
Oh what joy and what surprise when I open up my eyes
To see a hippo hero standing there

Now, you tell me…does that fit in at all with Mary, Joseph or Jesus in any way shape or form?  Let me answer for you real quick:  no.  In fact, this is the commercial bent that our culture has reduced Christmas and the entire season around into:  What can I get?  What more can I have?  What do I want and who’s going to give it to me?

Yet, it would be funny to sing that song, I found myself thinking. Everyone would get a big kick out of it. And, to be honest, Tricia and I had found over the past couple years that this song was among our favorite Christmas-time tunes.  So much so, in fact,  that it is actually the ringtone on both our phones at this very moment.

So I decided a bit reluctantly that we would do it, just simply for the fun of it if for no other reason, and we began working through the chords and keys in preparation for the concert.  However, the serious side of me wouldn’t let up.  What was the connection?  Should we introduce such a selfish and self-serving song in the midst of a production all about Jesus and his entrance into humanity?  I was really torn about this choice.

And then Saturday came.

And on Saturday, my nephews got to open their Christmas gifts in front of the whole family, eagerly ripping through wrapping paper and boxes to discover what the next toy, goody, or game was, smiling from ear to ear as they saw the desires of their little hearts fulfilled underneath the thin layers that laid limp and torn from their anxious unveiling.

It warmed my heart.  It really did.

I was transported, if only for a few moments, back to my childhood and all the memories I had of waiting and eagerly anticipating whatever gift had been the center of my heart’s affection that year.  I could almost reach out and touch that Playstation (yes, the original one) in my minds eye.  I could remember what it felt like to wait.  I could remember what it was like to rely on my parents to deliver on what they promised.

And it was then that the hippo song fully got the “OK” from me.

You see, I tend to get very negative when it comes to the way our society handles Christmas.  I don’t like how gift giving turns into a competition.  I don’t like how people start acting this time of year.  I don’t like the hustle and bustle.  And so my reaction is to scrap the whole thing.  Anything commercial is bad…period.

What I’ve found this year, however, is that there is good hiding behind all this.  You have to look a little bit, but it’s there.

Consider the little girl in the Hippo song for a moment.  This was a real girl asking for a real hippo in a very real way.  The story behind the song actually tells of this little girl getting that hippo and it living in the local zoo for some 50 years.  A hippo!

Yet, all she knew to do was ask.  To make her request known.  To open her mouth and tell whoever was listening that she wanted a hippo and leave it at that.

When you or I think of such a reqeust, we think only of the negative reaction to such an order.  How wouldn’t it work?  Who would say no?  Would anyone say yes?  If not, how could I move the request along in such a way as to get it answered?  If they said yes, would they be lying?  What else could I do to get them to agree?  And on, and on, and on, and on…

You and I don’t know how to just ask and rely.

We are children of the Creator of everything, and yet how often do we really ask Him for things?  Sure, basic needs are often offered up, but He promises those things.  Those are a given.  But He also tells us to ask, and do so repeatedly.  That the desires of our hearts will be ours if asked in Jesus’ name.  That anything we ask will be ours if asked in that name.  (John 14:13-14, Luke 11:1-13, Psalm 37:4)

What do we do with that?  I don’t know about you, but I usually hear that and think, “That’s nice.  Thanks, Father.  I just can’t ask you for that.  I’ll just take some food and shelter and be happy.  I know there may be greater things you want me to accomplish, but I just don’t think you’d give me that, so don’t worry about it.”

Yet my nephews, as children, simply know one thing:  you want something really badly, you ask for it.  That’s it.  After that, it’s in daddy’s hands.

What if we were that way?  What if I, like a child, started asking for the hippo?  God might say, “no” a whole lot, but I can ask, right?  Think back to being a kid.  You asked.  You hoped.  You waited.  If it didn’t pan out, you were disappointed, but you kept asking.  It meant you really wanted it if you were persisitent.  It meant you truly desired it.

Maybe that’s how we could be.  Maybe instead of figuring out how to do everything ourselves, we could start really asking God for the hippos.  Sure, we might get some big, fat “no’s”, but maybe we won’t either.  Maybe, like the girl in the song, we might just get that hippo.

I’d like to think that when we ask like that and He responds,  it’ll only be more glory for Him.

I have some hippos to ask about…do you?

I remember my first meeting with Sapphire like it was yesterday.

Upon walking into the apartment, I saw both felines give us the “oh, its just you” look, quietly instructing us with their stares to keep the noise down and to stay out of their way.  It was quite clear that they were not excited or shaken by our presence.  This was their home, I quickly realized; the arrogance in their eyes plainly conveying that fact, glaring as if to say, “I see you there and just need to make it very plain that we run this place and you are the guest.”

I figured I would make nice with Toby first.  Aside from his gargantuan size, he looked rather harmless.  So I headed over to where he was laying and extended my hand in a gesture of peace and welcome.  He gave me a cursory sniff, but made no bones about the fact that he wasn’t excited at all about my approach or my condescending pat on the top of his head.  He was done with me before we started.  Classic. This one’s a jerk, I quickly surmised.

And the next thing I knew, Sapphire was on me like a fat kid on a cupcake… 

Purring, rubbing against my leg, arching her back and doing generally everything in the book to show just how much she loved me and my attention, Sapphire was putting on her game face.  And I was sucked-in instantly.  I gave her some good petting while giving Toby my best stink-eye.

“I like this one!  She’s really lovey-dovey.”

“Don’t get used to it.  She does that with everyone when she first meets them.  She’ll go back to her hateful self in not too long,” Tricia quickly informed me.

You obviously don’t know about my ability with animals I proudly thought to myself.  Look at this cat all over me.  She loves me.  I know it.  You know it.  Her and I, we’ll get along just fine.  I don’t know about the other one, though.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

And Tricia couldn’t have been more right.

Before I knew it, the Sapphire that Tricia was accustomed to and had warned me about reared her ugly head and introduced herself to me.  The affectionate cat I met that first night disappeared and was replaced by an angst-filled, temperamental, and solitude animal, interested in one thing and one thing only…herself.  And the truth was, this was her normal way of living until a new person was introduced.  The cat I met that first night was simply a show.  A staged act.  A phony.  Tricia knew all along that the facade would lift and that I would eventually learn the truth about the underlying persona of her baby.

And though I never connected to Sapphire because of this personality conflict, Tricia did.  Through multiple bites, scratches, face slaps, hissing fits, evil-eyes, bowel movements and bladder releases in every place BUT the litter box, Tricia still loved this little creature.  She still held her.  She still loved on her.  She still fed her.  She still gave her treats.  And I just passed it off as some sort of localized insanity.  Some part of her was somehow able to see past all that awefulness and still extend love and care to an animal that neither loved or cared for her.

And I never got it.  For two years, I never saw it.

At least not until a few nights ago.

Long story short, we can’t have pets in the house we rent.  This meant finding homes for the cats after we were married.  We quickly found Toby a home with Tricia’s brother, but didn’t have such luck with finding a good home for Sapphire.  After wearing out her welcome at Tricia’s parents by urinating on everything and leaving little tootsie rolls in the middle of the floor, she was escorted outside the house during the summer.  And while that was fine for the time, winter poses some real problems for animals living outside.  So, in an attempt to be humane, we all decided it was time for Sapphire to be taken to the Humane Society.  At least she’d be warm and have food.  Besides, she truly is a beautiful cat, so she’d probably be picked up in a day or two…and like I said before, she can turn on the charm when she needs to.

So a few days ago, we got everything prepared and Tricia’s mom took Sapphire to the shelter.  I got the call that she was there, safe and warm, and that there were already some comments made about her unique markings and stunning beauty.  Sounded good to me.  Case closed.  Back to whatever I was doing.  I honestly didn’t give it another thought for the rest of the day.  I knew Tricia was a bit upset, but that’s part of doing the right thing sometimes, right?  She wouldn’t miss her that bad, would she?  The cat didn’t even like her…

The day passed and before I knew it, we were settling in for bed.  I got out of the shower and Tricia was already curled up in the bed, so I turned out the light and slid under the sheets.  As I snuggled up behind her, I could tell something was off.  After a minute or two of silence, I felt a small quiver followed by short sniffle, and I knew she was ready to break down.  I gave it another 60 seconds.  A few more quivers, a few more sniffles.

And then dam broke, and she sobbed.

And sobbed.

And sobbed.

And somewhere in between, she managed, “Every time I close my eyes, I keep seeing her in a cage, scared and alone, wondering, ‘Where am I?  Why am I here?’”

And she cried some more.

So I, in my infinite wisdom and logic-ridden mentality, offered, “It’s ok baby.  I mean, she didn’t even really like you.  All she wanted was food and warmth.  You know that’s all she cared about.”

Idiot.

I quickly realized as she continued to weep that I would be best served by keeping my mouth shut and just holding her as she cried.  So that’s what I did.  And as I laid there with her, I was bombarded by this inescapable truth:  It didn’t matter how Sapphire acted or what she did, Tricia loved her.  Period.  And that fact, my friends, holds some staggering ramifications for us all.

How many times have we, as people, defecated in the proverbial floor of God?  He gives wonderful things to us such as homes and cars and friends and spouses and children and we complain about all of them.  We, in our relentless pursuit of more everything, demote His gifts to second-rate hand-me-downs.  We crap on all our provisions as if they are worthless.

How often have we left His love unrequited?  He gave himself completely for us that we may know Him fully and connect with Him in every way, and in response to this display we give him a cursory mention and an hour on Sunday.

How often have we simply turned our back to His request for an intimate relationship?  How quick are we to relegate prayer to the 4th or 5th response to an urgent need?  How many of us, at one time or another, have lived our lives only for ourselves?  How many have wished God would just go away?  Wondered if He exists at all?  Told Him to take His ways and shove em’?

I have.  At different times in my life, I’ve been all these things and more.  Even worse.  Even more hurtful.  And yet, He has always continued to love me.

And He continues to love you.

In the face of every insult, rude word, careless behavior and hateful self-indulgence, God our Father relentlessly continues His love affair with all of us.  Just like Tricia’s uncompromising love for Sapphire reminded me, God deals with all of us spitting in His face continually and still loves us anyway.

That’s crazy if you consider it!  The whole lot of humanity, not worth loving a vast majority of the time, receives not judgement and dismissal, but receives Jesus.  God in the flesh.  The answer to all our needs.  I have to believe that if we could fully grasp the scope of the cross and Jesus rising from the dead, that realization would halt a majority of our delinquent behaviors.  That realization would cause us to change in a beautiful and meaningful way.  That truth is the Gospel, and we have never deserved it.  We will never deserve it.

But to a God full of love and mercy, that doesn’t matter.

And to a man full of selfishness and pride, that sounds like really good news.