Pretty Please: about asking

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. -Matthew 7:7-8

I’m not always great about asking for what I need. Maybe its because asking means facing the possibility of rejection. Maybe its because I just want to do it myself. Maybe its because I’ve spent so much of my life trying to fit in that I don’t’ even know what I really want to ask for.

But this is changing for me. I’m getting serious about my willingness to stand apart and not fit in if God is leading me somewhere. I’m sick of all the self-deprecating jargon I hear in myself and other people, like a badge of honor. Can we get beyond all that? Because God has placed grander visions in us. Every.Single.One.Of.Us.  And I don’t want to die someday having stood behind small-safe-selfish-afraid-comfortable living. I want you and I to get downright serious about not standing in the way of God bringing forth the next great thing through our lives in this world. There is too much need, too much brokenness, too much lonely living to play small and be afraid. Our world needs more willing, sacrificing, legacy leaving people who follow the Wild Goose (a Celtic expression for the Holy Spirit) into the great unknown.

Jesus spoke of the need to ask. Rumi also spoke of the need to ask when he said, “you must ask for what you really want.”

Asking awakens a powerful force in our lives because it is an act of faith and trust.  By asking we show our willingness to risk, to believe in a different tomorrow, and we show ourselves and others that hope is truly stronger than fear and that perhaps things could really change.

It is not that we necessarily and always get what we ask for. Sometimes we do not know what we most need. But the practice of asking exercises an important muscle in our lives. So, what do you need to ask for today?

An Old Camera and God

In the story of creation found in Genesis we learn an essential truth about ourselves: we all bear God’s image.  What does it mean to bear the image of God?
This morning I was flipping thru images on an old digital camera that we’ve been letting our 3 year old son Russell use for many months now.  Russell just runs around snapping pictures on this old camera. The blurry, sideways, odd and often half thumb-covered pictures reveal life from Russell’s vantage point.  The photos are a precious little insight into Russell’s world – how he sees thing, his vantage point, and what he cares about.

An image is like a small replica, an echo of the real deal, like a reflection in the water of lake Dillon on a still morning.

So, if we bear the image of God than every.single.person. bears insight into God’s heart, God’s way, God’s image. Men and women; rich and poor; my 90-year old neighbor and my 3 year old son; the highly driven and the not-so-much-so; every nation, culture, marital status, religion; the powerful and the vulnerable.  We all bear the image of God, no exceptions.

The Average CEO

The average tenure of a Fortune 500 CEO is just 4.6 years, and  it’s even shorter for many pastors (average of 4 years.) This statistic could be explained by burnout, but it could also be a reflection of a shadowy tendency of human nature. People sometimes leave when the going gets tough, when the honeymoon is over. By changing positions frequently, it’s possible to keep one’s life and leadership in a constant “honeymoon phase” and leave the problems to someone else. However, this isn’t the kind of leadership Jesus modeled and advocated.

Jesus talked once about the mentality of the shepherd versus the hired hand. He said, “The hired hand is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep. So when he sees the wolf coming, he abandons the sheep and runs away. Then the wolf attacks the flock and scatters it” (John 10:12). Jesus highlighted the difference between someone who acts like a shepherd/owner and someone who acts like a hired hand. The shepherd has ownership of his flock, is invested in their wellbeing, and is connected with their destiny. Jesus describes himself as “the Good Shepherd” who knows his sheep and lays his life down for them. When it comes to that which God calls us to do, he wants us to imitate Jesus and be shepherds/owners and not like hired hands.

Although it has taken me some time, I’m now grateful for a leadership crisis I experienced at an early age. I had to face my own inclination to run away. I experienced new levels of grace through the grueling, soul-refining work of conflict resolution, forgiveness, and team-building that test a leader’s character. Crisis, portrayed in Jesus’ parable as the wolf’s intrusion and attack, has a way of revealing motives and prompting reactive behavior. We all have a mix of pure and impure, selfish and loving motives, but crisis often strips us of our facades and breaks down for us what is really important. Crisis clarifies why we are doing what we are doing and to what extent we are committed to the “sheep” entrusted to us. Crisis is a tremendous way to grow in intimacy with the Lord.

Martin Luther King once said, “The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.” -1963

When crisis comes, let’s trust our Jesus-shepherd and be faithful to the task and to the people who look to us for leadership. Let’s allow the hard times to take us deeper with the One who loves us and gave His life for us.

Dream.Risk.Create

“In the beginning God created…” You and I are made in the image of God and one of the implications is that we are creative beings. At Sipping n’ Painting (the little art studio business that we own) it is very common to witness people’s apprehension, hear the objection “I’m not creative” and watch the hesitation around the idea of being artistic. Somewhere along the way someone drew a line in the sand and put a small percentage of the kids on the creative side of the line and the rest of us on the other side of that imaginary line. As a result, most of us believe and even say, “I’m not an artist, I’m just not the creative type.” But I don’t believe it, I think every human being is made in the image of God and there is no one more creative and artistic than the designer of this planet earth.  Just consider…aspen leaves turning and twirling in the wind, oh my! Underwater life, are you kidding me? A duckbill platypus, a baby kangaroo in their mamas’ pouch…and all the wild characters in my family! What creativity, what imagination, what incredible art!

I think the thing that stands in the way of our creating is a little word called risk. We can dream, but in order for our dreams to move from dream mode alone to actual work of creation we must take a risk. It is the risk that holds us back. It is the unknown, the fear, and the potential for failure that keeps us dreaming but never creating. Sometimes I think the place where walking with Jesus gets exciting is at the moment when we leave the familiar, and dreams in hand, we step out in faith to co-create with God. It is risky, which is probably why we do it so rarely. Each week in our staff meeting we review the week. We ask: what went right? wrong? What was missing? confusing? And we always end by asking ourselves: what did we do this week that was risky?

My hope and prayer is that our church can be a place where we encourage Spirit-led risk taking. I hope we can put courage in one another when fear paralyzes us from pursing the grander vision God has planted in our hearts. I pray we become for each other the incarnational presence of Jesus that is needed to follow God into the creative and unfamiliar places He is leading.

Church, Art, Beauty and Change

I have always felt deep down to my toes that there is nothing like a faith community when it is working right. I witnessed this as a child, when my alcoholic father came to faith in Christ through the witness of a neighbor and the love of a local church. His life, and subsequently the entire trajectory of my family’s life, changed course dramatically. I have seen this transformation of human lives happen over and over again, as Jesus and his church have partnered together. Participating with God in transforming lives has always been the church’s job, as we hear in Isaiah 58, when God defined true worship: “Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter-when you see the naked, to clothe them, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?”  Faith communities are working right when people care more and more about the things God cares about and less and less about the things he does not care about.

God absolutely cares about recognizing and restoring beauty and wholeness in people.

This Sunday we are having baptisms, which I love because we gather together to witness and celebrate the stories of peoples’ lives being changed by God. Baptism is an acknowledgement that Jesus didn’t just die for us a long time ago and then leave us to fend for ourselves. He invited us then and now to follow him, to die to our old selves and our former ways of living and being. He invites us to begin fresh and to participate with him in extending this possibility to others. Our immersion in the baptism waters is a picture of our dying with Christ in his death, and our emerging from the water represents our being raised to new life. A faith community that is working right holds this picture of baptism always before itself as a reminder of what God cares about: the healing and redemption of human lives.

I cannot wait to celebrate baptism with the Platt Park church family this week

I Miss It

We had dinner last week with Charlie, our pastor of worship & spiritual formation, and his wife Liz. On our way out the door, our 3-year old son Russell picked up a craft he had made in preschool and said, “I give Charlie?” We said, “Sure, you can give that to Charlie.” Upon our arrival, Russell handed his craft to Charlie and Liz as a little gift. They ooohhed and ahhed and asked Russell if he had made it.

A couple hours later, when we were getting ready to leave, Russell picked up that same craft and started walking out the door with it. I said, “Russell, I thought you gave that to Charlie and Liz,” and he frowned and said, “I miss it.”

Aren’t material attachments strange? That craft is one among 50 lying around our house, and we throw some away daily to control the clutter. But for some reason, Russell had a hard time parting with the craft he had given to Charlie and Liz. I can relate to Russell’s little dilemma. I want to be generous, but I also want stuff. I want to give, but I also want to keep. I want to live open-handedly, but I find myself with a tight grip.

Yesterday, we received a few coins in an offering envelope at church with these words written inside, “I gave what I had. May not be much at all but hopefully it will help. God Bless.”

This beautiful offering reminds me that spiritual power is released in and through us when we give. Christ modeled this through his ordinary interactions and astonishing miracles. May we follow in the steps of the One who gave freely and fully.

I Lack Nothing

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
The Lord is my shepherd, I have all that I need.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.

From the perspective of our personal stories, sometimes this famous psalm of David just does not resonate. Lack nothing? Shall not want? Have all that I need? I lack the family of my dreams, I need more money to pay the rent, and I wantwantwant so many other things….

When trying to understand the seeming discrepancy between the words of the psalm and our experiences of need, we might consider that when we pray this psalm, we are participating in a much larger story than our personal stories alone can tell. We are being brought into the story of the people of God. The psalm is framed in metaphorical language, which means that it isn’t designed to be read literally. Rather, the psalmist David is conveying an impression–through a series of striking images–of a general truth: God’s relationship to his people is like that of a shepherd with his or her flock of sheep. This is the first time David uses shepherd imagery to describe God in the psalms. Prior to the 23rd psalm, we read about Yahweh as a more distant “king” or “deliverer” or the impersonal “rock” or “shield.” But here David uses the personal and intimate metaphor of a shepherd who is always with his sheep and who prioritizes their wellbeing. Like a good shepherd, the Lord cares for his people.

It’s the identity of the shepherd – not the perspective of the sheep – that takes center stage in the psalm. A shepherd’s heart and mind are focused on making sure that the sheep are fed and safe, provided for and protected. This is true in the collective sense of God’s people across time and geography, and it is true in our personal lives. “He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake…” When we find ourselves in need, we can trust that our shepherd sees and knows our circumstances. We can “bleat” our prayers in confidence that our shepherd will lead us well, even through the valley of the shadow of death. We can come to love and trust our Shepherd so completely that our needs diminish in the light of his presence with us.

I am delighted that we are joining with The Church in Denver (a group of 10+ churches) to study this psalm during the month of July.  My hope and prayer is that we will not just learn about this psalm but that we will experience the loving Shepherd in new and intimate ways. Perhaps we could spend the entire series…or better yet our entire lives, just praying that those first two verses of this psalm might be true in our daily lives.

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

About Being Unplugged

One of the best parts about marrying into the Grade family is the annual “Up North” tradition. It’s that week every summer of Tim’s entire life (and my life since being a Grade) when we hit the lake in northern Wisconsin. We exchange our 4G network for a spotty connection, and we trade in our busy schedules for lazy days with little planned on the lake. We leave all work clothes at home and we rely mainly on swimsuits, flip-flops and the same clothes over and over all week.  Our eyes stare at the lake for hours, rather than our screens and we get loads of time with some of the people we love most.  We find ourselves antsy for activity and hot with cabin fever by day 3 in our attempt to unplug from all the movement that is our daily lives.

This past week we’ve been up north and I’m reminded once again, as I am every year, that there is just something good about non-productivity and less self-striving. There is something strong birthed in quiet and staring into the beauty of nature – if you can push past the clatter within.

Most days this week during Russell’s nap I just sat on the boat or on the dock staring up at those tall, tall trees.  I watched and I reveled and I soaked in all that beauty of the rustling wind in the pines, the deer wandering by, and the water lapping up against the shore.  I found my heart singing for nothing in particular but just because I am here and God is here and we are here together.

I wish for you a moment, or many moments, like this, this summer. May we all better learn to trust that when God tells us to rest, he really does mean it and that there are non-flashy, undetectable, life-giving gifts lying wait for us there.

Rate Me

Every time Amazon delivers something to my door, I receive a text message asking me to “rate my experience.” The text reads, “Your package with Pampers Baby Dry Diapers has been delivered by the carrier. Rate it right here at amazon.com/box.

Really? Rate my experience?  Let’s see… hmmm… I ordered the diapers, and then they arrived. Great job, everyone.

We live in a world that constantly prompts us to judge. Rate your experience, size up your competition, weigh her beauty, gauge his sincerity. Look. Evaluate. Assess. Judge.

These activities have a legitimate place in our lives. We weigh options for their risks and benefits. We attempt to choose right from wrong. We listen for truth and goodness in an effort to protect ourselves from deception. We teach our children discernment.

But judging can take up too much space in our minds and can become a perpetual habit. Once judgment becomes habit, I am prone to criticalness. I don’t want to be known for a critical spirit. I want to be about welcome, hospitality, and spiritual formation; I want to be about other-oriented-ness and active service. I want to develop a disposition that says, “This is enough. You are enough. I am enough. Relax, and rest,” rather than a personality that is always rating myself and others and concluding, “More, better, faster, higher. You could really do better next time.”

This vision of myself is not yet reality. I’m a driver. I run fast and hard, and I seek continual improvement. I need God’s words in my ear each and every moment reminding me as he reminded Jesus, “You are my beloved, precious in my eyes.” It is counter-cultural to allow myself, my circumstances and others to be enough – to cease striving and to rest in gratitude and joy. More and more, I want to live each day with less of an Amazon “rate me” philosophy and more of a Scriptural conviction: “Christ in me, the hope of glory.”

About Power

Several years ago I worked as a site pastor in a multi-site church. My boss at the time was the executive pastor Mike Ross, who later founded Mother’s Global Village, with whom Platt Park now partners in Guatemala. When the organizational structure of our multi-site church changed, Mike went from being my supervisor to being a site pastor at one of the other campuses. I remember writing him a note expressing what an impact he was having on me. I told him how impressed I was with his ability to transition between roles in the church without letting his ego get in the way. Most people would have gotten a sideways, resentful attitude about the perceived demotion of that change, but Mike never missed a beat. He seemed to readily relinquish the appearance and position of power for something more authentic…

I just finished reading Andy Crouch’s book Playing God, and I have to say it may be my favorite read this year so far.  Crouch says all of us-not just the obviously “powerful”-have real power and the responsibility to use it well. Power is both an idol to be rejected and a gift to be redeemed. Usually, we think of power as a bad thing; we nod our heads in agreement when we hear someone say, “Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Certainly, power can be corrupt when idolatry and injustice are involved. However, Andy Crouch shows how redeemed power is a gift meant for human flourishing. He says that the nature and essence of power can only be discerned by its effect, like the wind. The true quality test of power is found in this question: Are the people around us truly flourishing? What sort of wake are you and I leaving in our relationships? Human flourishing never happens by accident; it always requires intentionality.

May you wield your God-given and redeemed power for the flourishing of those around you.