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I would like to begin by saying that my heart goes out to our Jewish brothers and sisters that have been involved in the shooting this weekend.  The families that have been affected, the lives of the congregation, the community that has been changed…we pray for them.  I pray for the congregations gathered around the world that feel fear as a result of this horrific act.  This comes to me as a powerful reminder that hate is never okay.  In a time when our country is hurting over so much division leading to rhetoric and actions filled with hatred, we cannot stand idly by and watch evil happen.  As Christians, we have a responsibility to stand with our brothers and sisters…reminding others that hate is never okay, in no way, shape or form.  Hate for others because of their faith, their skin color, their background, or their country of origin is never okay.  At no point did Jesus condone hate…not even to those that wanted to take his life.  At no point can we, as Christians, condone hate either.  But we have to do more than not condone hate…we have to stand against it by standing in love.  We have to rise up with love…we have to be the ones that come together and find ways to love more, love better, and love actively.  We have to let our Jewish brothers and sisters know that we know that this is not okay and we stand with them in love…in the battle against hatred…in solidarity that hatred and hate filled acts will not be tolerated…ever.  We must show love like never before…standing tall in LOVE.  Our world and our country needs to hear our voices…of love.  And while that sounds great, what does it really look like?  What does it mean to stand in love?  What does it mean to not tolerate hate?

As I prayed and searched for the right words to say…the right actions to take…I am drawn to Jesus’ words recorded in John 15.  This scripture reminds me that if I am abiding in Jesus, I am abiding in love. If I am truly following Jesus, I am loving one another.  I cannot abide in Christ and not love, there is no room for that.  Jesus clearly speaks to that.  And to abide, to be with Christ, to walk with him, to fulfill his commandments, to be his disciple, means that I love others.  There is no place for hate.  If, as his disciple, I am to be known by my love, then that means how I love shows…it stands out…it unites rather than divides.  We are given a clear command…an appointment…a directive to go and to bear fruit…fruit that lasts.  We are to love one another.  Yet, how often do we see love?  How often do we live as those that love?

I find that we are in a time of such clear divide.  I hear such words as…”If you don’t believe like me, then we can’t be friends.  If you are not on my side politically, then you are wrong and I am right and we cannot discuss this.  If you believe that, you must be an idiot or stupid or completely crazy.” It seems that we don’t believe that people can have differing opinions and we still love them.  It appears that we only spend time with those we agree with and if you don’t agree, you become my opponent rather than my friend.

As I consider this, I know that both sides of most any political debate are represented in the church…and I am so thankful for that.  I know that there are differing parties and differing opinions represented…and I am grateful.  While worship is a time to put our entire focus on God, we have been united in our worship and not divided by our opinions – when we leave worship, that unification should not stop.  Regardless of what our views are, we have to come together as God’s people to love…and to love loudly.  When we spew words of hate or opinions that are filled with prejudice, we have missed it. When we begin to clamor to defend what we think is ours rather than finding ways to love, we are the ones that are losing.

What leads us away from loving one another?  I think it begins very slowly.  We do not necessarily seek to not follow and not to love.  I think it is a gradual progression that we are often unaware is happening.  It begins by spending less time seeking God, following his will, doing his work.  It begins with a small divide, a small crack. We slowly begin to detach ourselves from the One that created us and we begin to do what we think is right.  We become possessive and a little more selfish each day…because we aren’t seeking God and his will.  We begin to go our own path and to follow people rather than Christ. And it happens all so subtly.

It can happen as easy as forming a divide.  If we begin to divide ourselves and begin the “us” versus “them” mentality, we get off track.  We begin the thinking of – “At least we are not like that.  That group of people should do this.” – When we form the divide, we find it really difficult to love.  It does make it easier to not help…it does enable us to justify our lack of reaching out…it does help us to feel better about our lack of love if we divide ourselves… If we can separate ourselves from another group, then we can feel better when we dislike them… and we can feel better when fear or terror comes in and we, maybe, even find myself disliking them to hating them? It is such a slippery slope.  And it happens so quickly.  We begin to divide rather than reach out…to help…to share…to care for one another.  It is easier not to feed and clothe and support if we can develop an us versus them thought pattern.  And there goes our love.

No matter what you believe politically or socially, we have to begin by seeing people as people…as God’s creation…as one of us…in this together.  This act of terrorism was by a man that watched Jewish people doing what they believed God had called them to do…a response they were doing because of an initiative they believed in…to feed and clothe and shelter.  It is likely that he is mentally not stable, but regardless, the act is fueled by hatred.  Regardless of your opinions about the caravan of migrants, please remember that they are people…there are dads and moms and children…there are people that breathe and walk and struggle and cry and hunger…just like you and me.  There are people that God created just like you and me. And no matter what you may think should happen or what you believe the solution may be, we can never forget that each person is a real person, with a real story, and a real fear, and a real life…seeking and searching and trying to find what is next.  And whatever our response, it should come from a place of love.

When we cut off love for others, no matter who they are, it reflects in our speech, in our words, in our actions.  We may not even detect it.  We may even realize it.  Words mean something.  What we say does have an effect.  What we speak matters.  Our words can lift up or tear down…our words can condemn or condone…our words can support or destroy…Words mean something.  We must be careful about the language we use…for what comes out of our mouth originated in our hearts.  We often speak that which we believe…and if it is not love, we need to re-evaluate the source.  In whom are we abiding?

Note that in none of this am I saying that we compromise what we believe or who we are.  I am saying that becauseof what we believe…because of the One that we follow…because of the commands of Jesus…because of his example,we love.  I am saying that we reach out, rise up, and stand with those that are scared and lonely and living in fear and show love.  I am saying that there is plenty of hate in our world. There is plenty of bullying. There is plenty of backbiting and hatefulness being spread.  We can be the difference by our love.  We dig deeper into what it means to love God and to love others and hear God speak.

Christians, we have a responsibility to rise up and love. We have an opportunity to show love to our neighbor.  We show love by abiding in Christ… We cannot share that which we do not have.  If we do not have the love of Christ in us, we cannot share the love of Christ.  If we do not know what it means to be loved by him, we cannot love others.

We have to take the difficult road to love…it is much easier to divide and hate… We have to take this road by uniting ourselves against hatred, against fear.  We cannot tolerate hate filled speech or hate filled actions.  This is a country where people should not be afraid to go into their places of worship…no matter their faith!  People should know that places of worship are where they can find love and kindness and goodness.  This is a home, a shelter, a refuge for those that are beaten and battered and lost…and that includes you and me.

We can change the tide of hate by speaking out against it.  This is not the time to be silent.  We are appointed to go and bear fruit…to love one another…to love God with our everything and to love our neighbor as ourselves.  If we don’t do that, then who does?  If we don’t set the bar for how to love, then how does our world know love? If we spew hate, then what makes us any different from anyone else?  We are the CHURCH…we are the BODY OF CHRIST…we are called and commanded to love… What does that look like for you?  I find myself holding to this quote from Eugene Peterson… “And yet I decide, every day, to set aside what I can do best and attempt what I do very clumsily – open myself to the frustrations and failures of loving, daring to believe that failing in love is better than succeeding in pride.”  God, may love begin with me.

Some days bring difficulty…words fail…answers are not available…and the quiet seems to be the only peace.  I find that these last few days are (indescribable)… As the storm approached, I have heard and read prayers for the storm to turn…though as we pray, we may not have considered what turning may look like or whom that may affect.  I have heard cries of thanksgiving for minimum damage while neighbors have open roofs and no place to call home.  I have experienced relief that the storm has passed…all the while,  the river waters rise and friends struggle to bring a few belongings to a new location…their home and dream is, once again, washed away.

Please don’t misunderstand. I believe we should not welcome tragedy or minimize gratefulness.  I, too, am thankful to be safe and out of danger.  I am grateful for no damage in the face of a powerful storm.  I just wonder if our prayers and gratefulness come from a place where we seek to take care of self…while our neighbors rush to find rescue.

This is not the first time I have felt this way.  Actually, I feel this way when I thank God for my daily “bread” and then eat more than my share of the world’s produce.  I wonder about my place to thank God for what he has given when there are brothers and sisters around the world that thank God for much less…possibly their one meal for the day or many days.  I wonder if I’m missing something about what God is trying to teach me when I thank him for my daily bread but when I may not be the best steward of it. This is not one of those thoughts of…”make sure you clean your plate because there are starving children in Africa” speeches.  That, in my opinion, teaches us to pile our plates high and eat it all…even in the face of gluttony.  It does not teach us to become better stewards of the gifts we have been given or to actually share a meal with anyone else.  It is more of a thought about what God has given us and how he loves the whole, entire world…not just me.  Why am I given so much while others have so very little?  My faith is not bigger nor do I deserve more.  My faith is probably weaker and struggle could teach me something.

It just becomes more real as I know my neighbors that have worked so very hard to re-start their lives only watch it washed away – again.  In my heart, I know that the value of life is far greater than any possession we can accumulate.  But I find that less than comforting for those that have only a few moments to pick up their whole life of belongings and to say goodbye to a significant part of their lives.  It is easier to sit in an air conditioned home with food to eat,  proclaiming homes and cars and possessions really don’t mean anything, than it is to leave those things behind to be destroyed.  I actually find that many of the things we say to each other as believers really has no real sustenance when we sit in a first world country consuming more than our share and complaining about things which really just don’t matter.  It is hard to identify with those that truly struggle when our greatest challenges include the messed up order in our local drive thru or how our nail color doesn’t exactly match our outfit.  I’m not trying to trivialize some of the things we are challenged with…but let’s be realistic…most of the time our challenges aren’t really challenges at all…but mere missteps in a lifelong journey…minor stumbles in a lifetime of good things. Destruction certainly sheds a new light on the things which we once felt were “unbearable” – those things that now seem so insignificant in the clarity of the rain.

I believe that God’s Word (not ours) speaks loudly in our celebrations…but provides great comfort when there are no words to be said.  In the quiet of the house with no electricity…in the deep grief of the loss of a lifetime of memories…in the roar of a hungry child’s stomach…GOD IS STILL PRESENT.  And I don’t think his words are of condemnation or judgment or correction. Maybe his words don’t seem like words at all, but more like silent moments of God just providing his Almighty Presence, the Presence that feels a whole lot like love.

As the rains continue to fall and as the rivers continue to rise, my prayer is that the Presence of the Almighty is felt…sometimes in words of a Psalmist or writer gifted by God…and sometimes in the Silence of the Almighty.  In our gratefulness, I pray that with our overwhelming place of giftedness, we find a way to give and serve like never before.  May this truly be a time to show love to our neighbor and become the hands and feet of Christ.  May this be our starting point rather than a short term event which launches forward Christ’s love to a world that feels so unlovable.

Psalm 73:26, “My flesh and my heart fail; But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”

Lying flat…being very still…every move seems to find pain.  Several days were spent just like this.  I work really hard to stay in shape and eat well.  I try to do the right things that produce the right results. Morning routines are set and schedules are made.  So when I find myself in this type of pain, I wonder what went wrong.  The answer…nothing.  Nothing went wrong.  This is how it is for this season.

For a painful week, I had back/kidney spasms that slowed me quite a bit…and if I am honest, for the most part, halted my life.  The good news is that this has all improved.  The best news is that soon I will be back to my normal routine of work, church, exercise, etc.  I am grateful that I do not have this type of pain on a regular basis.  It gives me a tiny glimpse into the life many people grapple with everyday…a life of chronic pain.  My pain will get better and I will move forward.  I pray for those that deal with pain regularly.

This time has been reflective for me and the most important lesson…I need others…I am not invincible. Now, in my mind, I know that.  I understand that I have limitations (every time I did an ultramarathon or triathlon or long bike ride, I was reminded of my limitations in very real terms).  So intellectually, I understand I am not invincible.  But I still like to do things myself (and maybe pride myself on doing it without any help).  I am independent and enjoy taking control of my own life.  Don’t misunderstand me…I don’t want to control your life – I’m really not handling my own all that well.  I do, though, want to know that I can do my life myself independent of outside help. My mom will be quick to tell you that since I was a small child, I wanted to do it “by self”.  I didn’t want any help from anyone.  Lying on my back in bed unable to even get a drink of water told me loud and clear…I need other people.  I needed help getting food, I need help getting dressed, I needed help to get to appointments.  I could not do it on my own.  And…I was not happy about it at all.

Today, gratefulness is in my heart.  I am grateful for my wife, my mom, my girls, my church family, work family and so many more. I am grateful that I do not have to do this alone.  I am not alone in this life.  We are meant to share life in community.  We are not meant to do this by ourselves.  God is so good he has given us others to live life alongside. Family, friends, neighbors…altogether living life…isn’t that the way it was meant to be?

In the end, I have learned I cannot do this alone…nor do I want to.  I am grateful for the humbling lesson and I am grateful for life lived together. 

June 4, 2018 marks a special milestone in my life.  It is my 43^rdbirthday, which is an age that seems quite ordinary.  But it was 10 years ago…at the age of 33, I laced up my running shoes and decided to start running.  I had tried before and hated it…mostly because I didn’t really give it a chance, thinking I should be able to run a mile when I had not moved off the couch for most of my life.  This time was different…I was determined to train and run a 5k.  That was the goal and it seemed like it would be nearly impossible.  So I opened up the “Couch to 5k” training plan and made a commitment…I would start running.  And I did.

In the last 10 years, I have run thousands of miles.  Running has been my sanity, my joy, my meditation…it has helped me think through critical decisions and has been the time when much of my writing came together…my best ideas come when I run.  Sometimes, the run is full of pure joy…the sunrise, the songs of the birds, the bonds of friendship, the challenge of just one more mile.  Sometimes, it feels like pure evil…like the birds are mocking me rather than singing, like the buzzards are hovering around and I am their next meal, times when each step was painful and miserable.  Regardless of the run, the first mile is always the hardest and the last mile is a close second. I have run through some of the most challenging times of my life…through sickness, death of loved ones, difficult decisions.  I have run to celebrate the greatest times.  I have run with the support of loved ones…they were there in some really crazy races.  I have run with equally loud criticism…my favorite is being told that I am going to ruin my knees (by people who have bad knees and never run a day in their lives that I could tell).  Running has opened doors for me to meet some fantastic people…to develop friendships that have lasted through many miles…to bond in a way that really isn’t explainable, unless you run.

The steps I have taken remind me that I am stronger than I ever thought.  I am reminded that I am capable of so much more.  Running is so much mental that I have learned the stories we tell ourselves often determine the outcome…rather than the actual ability. I have grown closer to God through running and have heard him speak through the miles and breaths.

So today, I run to celebrate 10 years.  It has been a tough and yet rewarding time.  I look forward to seeing where my feet take me next.  I will continue to run as far as my imagination and God will allow me to go.

Two of my favorite quotes about running are from John Bingham…

“If you run, you are a runner. It doesn’t matter how fast or how far. It doesn’t matter if today is your first day or if you’ve been running for twenty years. There is no test to pass, no license to earn, no membership card to get. You just run.”

“At age forty-three, when I found myself standing in my garage in a new pair of running shoes, I knew that it was my moment of truth. Behind me lay forty years of bad decisions and broken promises.”
John Bingham, The Courage to Start

How many times have you forgotten something?  I can walk out of a room and forget what I was going in the other room to get.  If I don’t write everything down in my calendar, I will forget to show up for appointments (even regular appointments).  One of the most obvious times I forget is in church. Right before I get ready to go make announcements, someone will tell me something they want me to mention.  If I don’t write it down, in the span of 2 minutes, I will have forgotten.  I am amazed at what I can forget.

Remembering truly is a gift and something that we have to practice.  If it just came naturally, we wouldn’t have to be told to remember.  As a pastor, I really enjoy reading and studying the Old Testament.  Over and over again, God’s people are putting in place ways to remember.  God gave the Israelite people festivals so that they could remember and tell the story.  Passover is a perfect example of such an event.  Many of the people written about in the Bible do things to remember particular events.  They name places after events that happened so they will not forget.  They set up altars and stones to remind them of the extraordinary moments that helped define their life and faith.  They tell the stories to their children so that generations later, there is still remembrance.  Remembering is an important part of the faith of God’s people in the Bible. Now, we have the Bible to help us to remember, if we read it.

Today is Memorial Day. It is a day set aside to remember. We are to remember those that gave their life in service to our country.  It is an act of remembering the sacrifice.  As a grief counselor, I hear over and over that people want to remember their loved one that has died.  We want to remember.  We don’t want to forget that which means so much to us.  We don’t want to forget the sacrifices that have been made.  We don’t want to forget the joys and the good times we had with our loved ones.  And we shouldn’t forget the important foundational events that define our faith and belief. Remembering is a gift.

One of the most fearful and debilitating diseases is the loss of memory.  To remain healthy but not be able to remember is terrifying for both the person and the family.  It leaves a sense of helplessness.  Remembering really is a gift that we treasure.

So if you have the gift of remembering, make it count.  Even if remembering is challenging, put practices in place that help you to sharpen your skills.  Remember what God has done – this gives hope for the future.  Remember the people and events that have helped shape who you are today – this helps to understand your blessings.  Remember those that have gone on before us – this can bring joy and alleviate the pain of the loss.  Remember those that have sacrificed it all – this is what enables us to live in freedom. Remember your gifts and talents – this can help you to use those gifts and talents in the purpose of which you were created.  If you have it, value the gift of remembering.  And share your memories with others.  It just might change a life.

Last weekend, Wendy and I had the chance to get away for a quick trip to the beach.  It was wonderful.  It was chilly outside so there were not a lot of people.  We could walk on the beach without our shoes but still too cold for shorts.  It was peaceful and refreshing.  I am grateful for those moments in life.  As soon as we returned, life kicked back into high gear – the same gear it was in prior to the trip.  I live most of my life like that, and to be honest, I like it that way for the most part.  I enjoy what I do and am grateful for the opportunities I have been given.

This weekend, I couldn’t help but think how great it would be to go back to the beach.  Another weekend to breathe and rest.  On the surface, it sounds wonderful.  But, do I really want to live my life for short trips?  Do I really want to live so that my excitement is found in a few days away?  I don’t think so.

So many of us live for the weekends.  Mondays are dreaded.  We are excited for hump day because it is one step closer to Friday.  Fridays are celebrated.  It is a cycle we can easily embrace.  I wonder, though, at the end of life, if we will only be thankful for the weekends.  I wonder if, by celebrating only Friday through Sunday, we might miss the gifts of Monday through Friday.

Recently, I have spent more time than usual with those that have lost loved ones.  It is a gift that I treasure and take seriously.  I see God in those moments like no other.  He reminds me he is present and that he loves us.  Some of these people had lived their lives and were ready for whatever God had next.  They had celebrated and served and done all that was asked in this life.  They were prepared.  Others, though, would have liked to have had one more day.  They would have liked to have sat at a dinner table and enjoyed one more meal.  They would have liked to have taken one more trip.  They would have liked to have walked one more mile.  Some would even have been thankful for one more Monday…yep, that’s right – a Monday.  Why?  Because each day is precious.  If we only live for the weekends or for the special moments, we miss the moments that are special all throughout our lives.  Maybe we should live celebrating each new day.  Maybe the key to life is not to just look forward to Friday, but to look forward to the gift of another day.

i have written and said many times that each day is a gift.  I wholeheartedly believe that.  I also believe that if we live our lives just for a weekend or a special occasion that we will end our lives having missed the gifts of the other days God has provided.

Today is another day…Aren’t we grateful we have one more day?  May we live grateful…even when Monday comes.