we know the script---thoughts on grace

Riley, my 3rd grade daughter is the stand-by for the lead role in Ramona Quimby—an upcoming play at her school. She’s Ramona. For the past two months she has lived in her script, reading and memorizing each line, adding flavor and emotion. She’ll sit and read her lines to Jackson, our ten year old Golden Retriever, and Jax will sit there patiently. And I’ve always heard that young kids have a brain like a sponge and can retain ridiculous amounts of information, but I have never really understood it until now.

Last night, I picked up her script and randomly picked different pages and would read the line before Ramona’s line to see how well Riley knew it. In my mind, I thought there would be no way she could pull this off but she hit it exactly right on the first two or three attempts. I thought to myself, “No way is this really happening.” “There is no way she is actually doing this.” But she did. I can’t understand how she knew the lines so well to be able to say them flawlessly as I skipped around, flipping pages and reading various prompts. Rediculous.

The younger brother Jesus talked about in Luke 15 probably knew his lines just as well. And too often when we go to God, we carry our bag of excuses and carefully rehearsed lines we’ll use to plead our case for the chance that we’ll be accepted and invited to return home. Yet we find that before we can blurt them out the Father has embraced us and calls for a party. It’s illogical and doesn’t make sense. We have a hard time with grace. Don’t we? Do you? Plus we usually give grace to others, but not ourselves. We are not good at preaching the gospel to ourselves. No, we are usually found rehearsing our lines to our dog, so we’ll be ready for the play; for opening night.

The sight of the old man running catches us off guard. We never expected it. The sight of the old man running is a mirror of the grace that has arrived with the coming and finished work of Jesus. We show up, returning to the Father with all our carefully rehearsed and calculated apologies. We’ve carefully written the script, crafted each word we will say. All that is left is to go to the Father and hope it works, to hope that the Father will even give us an audience. To hope that he’ll take us back even after all we have done, not done, and neglected. Our leaving has caused much pain and confusion; both for the leaver and for the ones being left. We’ve wished a virtual death upon the Father, gathered our belongings, took the money and run, only to find a fast train to what is empty and broken and confusing.

but there is more...

i smile when i see the old man run

Andrew Peterson's lyrics to his song: "Isn't it Love?"...good stuff

Lost my luggage out in Kalamazoo --
Same way I tend to lose my conscience, too.
Another day in these dirty old blues, and I don't seem to mind.
This is a thing that confounds me;
You can find me; You surround and remind me.
I lose my way and I forget about You
But You still remember me.

Oh, isn't it love:
This rain that falls on the sinners and the saints?
Isn't it love:This well that won't run dry?

And when I think about that prodigal son,
I've got to smile when I see the old man run.
And I know that You love us the same,'Cause the sun came up today;
Just as if we deserved it --
Just as if any one of us fools was worth it;
Truth is that we'll never be perfect,
but You love us just the same.

Well, isn't it love:
This ran that falls on the sinners and the saints?
Isn't it love:
This well that won't run dry?
Isn't it love?
Isn't it love?
Isn't it love to look down from the sky

And see Your only Son on the cross asking "Why?"
And somehow let Him die that way
And not call the whole thing off?
All for this man stuck in Kalamazoo
Who loses his bags and his way sometimes too.
But that was something that You already knew,
And still You died for me.Isn't it love? (2x)
And isn't it love:This ran that falls on the sinners and the saints?
Isn't it love:This well that won't run dry?
Isn't it love?His mercies are made new every morning.
Isn't it love?Isn't it love?And isn't it love?

a way to help

here is a letter regarding my friend, Mike Sweeney, who is on the Young Life staff in Rome, GA. I am simply passing it on.

Dear Friends,
This is not Mike or Cabell writing to you today. Actually, it’s friends of Mike and Cabell who have begged them for the opportunity to write to you regarding an important way you can help in this phase of their fight against stage IV metastatic melanoma.First of all thank you for being so faithful. Thank you for your prayers and for your phone calls, your meals, your plane tickets, and for all the heartfelt kindness you have shown the Sweeneys. You have been the real hands and feet of Christ and a wind in their sails. Countless times we have heard Mike and Cabell say with overwhelmed hearts how amazed they have been at how well you love them. So, thank you!Many of you have asked, “What else can we do? How can we help?” Please know your prayers and love have helped a ton. But today the Sweeneys face a different kind of need in the battle with melanoma: paying for a potential life saving treatment for Mike.

In Mike’s last update he described TIL therapy. He also explained that because the treatment is still in a research trial, it will not be covered by their insurance. This is very disheartening news given the fact that Mike’s doctors have made it clear that this therapy is the only real treatment they have that can offer Mike a cure.

One of the things that is so incredible about following Christ is knowing we are not without hope. We love and serve a Very Big God who cares deeply for all of us, who sees Mike’s needs, and who can provide in amazing and creative ways. We believe that by coming together as friends and family around Mike and Cabell, we can continue to be the hands and feet of Jesus to them.
-----
The price tag for TIL therapy is $200,000. The hospital will require the Sweeneys to pay 60% up front before Mike will be allowed to begin treatment. Mike is tentatively scheduled for treatment November 16th, pending payment. So, time is of the essence as we want Mike to get treatment as quickly as possible!

Here is where we get to help! There is an organization known as Helping Hands Ministry, an IRS approved 501-C(3) non-profit, that acts as a receiver and distributer of charitable gifts to people in need. It was founded by Terry Parker, who started the National Christian Foundation, in order to facilitate Christian charity through the gifting of tax-exempt donations. Through Helping Hands we have created the Mike Sweeney Medical Project. This allows you to give a gift that will go directly toward Mike’s medical treatment costs that is tax-deductible to you and does not create a tax liability for Mike and Cabell. That is an incredible blessing!!! Please visit Helping Hands website (Helping Hands) if you would like more information about the organization, or contact one of us

If you feel that this is something you would like to help with, you probably already know it in your heart. So, how can you give?Make all checks payable to Helping Hands Ministries, Inc.In the Memo section of your check, please write The Mike Sweeney Medical Project.Please mail all checks to:Helping Hands Ministries, Inc.135 Main StreetPO Box 337Tallulah Falls, GA 30573Trust that your donation information will be confidential. Helping Hands will handle all financial matters and receipt you directly. If you would like to give via credit card, stock, etc, please contact Helping Hands: Michelle York - michelle@hhmin.org

(i) wonder

Jesus goes up to a mountain and sits down. Great crowds come to him and press in around him. Many were pushing and wrestling, wedging their way through the crowd. Inside of these great crowds were the lame, the blind, the crippled, the mute, and many others. Those who had brought these people put them at the feet of Jesus, and they are made well. As a result the crowd wondered. I wonder what it is they wondered about. What caused them to wonder? They began to wonder when they saw the mute speaking, the crippled healthy, the lame walking, and the blind seeing, and they glorified God.

The mute began to talk.
The crippled and the lame were made healthy and were walking.
The blind began to see.

What would the mute say once they found the ability to speak?
What would the crippled and lame do once they found the ability to walk and run?
What would the blind want to look at when they realized they could see?

Do I realize the gifts I have? Do I still wonder? Am I still amazed that I have the ability to speak words, to walk and run, or to see? Or have I forgotten? Am I not impressed anymore?

The answer is determined by what I say…where I walk…and what I take the time to look at.

A gathering of the candles

I wonder if the world outside could survive if we no longer had cell phones. We’d survive, and we might even be pleasantly surprised at the outcome. I think what we might find is a quality of life that we had no idea was there; like a man who unexpectedly finds a treasure buried in a field. Who knows? Perhaps one might sell all he has to find enough money to buy it.

Sunday night brought in a cold front and a steady rain, the signs that fall is trying to wedge its way into our lives. He’s been knocking for a couple of weeks, but has yet to come in. He knocked hard this night--enough to knock out the power grid on our side of town. ESPN went out followed by the Internet, followed by the lights and anything else that breathes electricity. The world is ending. The religious fanatics were right.

My wife gathered some candles from around the house, the ones that are never lit but are only used for appearance. Form has taken over function and kicked it right out the door. All this was in the same family of thought that caused us to have a room in our house where I grew up that contained the nice furniture; the good stuff. The stuff bought not from the JCPenney catalog, but from a real furniture store, where they even deliver it to your house. This room was so nice that my mother would never allow anyone to sit in there except on Thanksgiving or Christmas. Most of our money was invested in this room, but it was rarely used enough to earn its keep. Compare it to a ten million dollar church building that’s only used on Sunday, and stays pretty much empty Monday through Saturday.

My wife and I sat, the room barely lit with about five candles. The windows were open letting in the sound of a light breeze and the steady rain. On the walls, the candles caused the shadows to dance and sway, putting on a show that is far better than anything on Facebook or recorded on my DVR. To our surprise, my wife and I started talking and when we weren’t talking, we just sat there enjoying the sound of the rain. For an hour we simply just talked. It sounds so simple that you may wonder why I mention it. It was just good, rich, unhurried, undistracted time with my wife. This was an unexpected gift; a pause of time that can be a rare experience in our lives today.

A sudden pop brought it all back. The refrigerator cranked back up, the A/C came on, followed by the TV, and all the lights and appliances.

All the clocks were blinking 1200. For a moment, for about an hour, all of time had stopped. And I sort of liked it. The thing is that when the power came back on, I was sort of disappointed. Something inside of me didn’t want it to come back on. Why couldn’t it have stayed out a little while longer?

I think God gave me and my wife something that we weren’t expecting, some time together. Face to face. No distractions, nothing but silence, which allowed a chance to simply sit and talk. For a moment in time Jesus turned our noisy, busy, distracted virtual lives into the Sea of Galilee, as if to stand up on the bow of the boat and yell “Peace, Be Still!” And there was a dead calm.

And in this field, we found a treasure. It was good. I might be willing to sell everything and buy it.

come away to a quiet place and rest

“Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and rest.” Mark 6:31

What exactly have we lost in our obsession with always ‘doing’? What poverty of spirit and life have we created in our hurried and driven lives? Much has been lost but the life we live does not and will not permit us to realize it or awaken to the possibility that there is another life than can be lived: a life lived with a heart alive.

Our awareness of all of life has gradually dulled. In our current way of life there is no time to reflect because there is always more and more to do. There is more and more always expected of us by more and more people who want it done faster and faster. In fact, many of us don’t live our own lives; our lives are directed, like puppets, by our own worldly culture and by the demands of others. We lack the courage to put an end to it; to put this wounded life out of its misery.

There should be some expectation for the general unbelieving world to act like this, but it seems that much of Christianity has jumped in and joined forces with the world in its quest for greatness and desire to be significant and leave a legacy. All of us have a desire to matter and do meaningful work. God is the only one who can give this. Only God can give us purpose and meaning; and help us leave a legacy, which is to have been wholly his. But somewhere in it all, it seems we are not satisfied with this. Maybe we know it but we don’t necessarily believe it; we act like we don’t know it. Our quest is live out on our own terms and create our own legacy.

It also seems as if we, as ministers of Jesus Christ, should be calling people out of this worldly culture with its neurotic pace and constant noise to a place of rest; into a Sabbath.

Instead of giving those in our care, in our churches more to do, more programs to get involved in, more meetings to attend, perhaps we should lead them to a place of rest—a place of abiding. (John 15) Perhaps we should share what Jesus said to his disciples: “come away …by yourselves to a quiet place and rest.”