The Power of Need

I think needing may be better than giving.  It’s just a suspicion I have been twiddling with, but I can’t shake it.  The response to need and weakness is very powerful.  It draws forth a power that changes lives.  It seems often, to bring more pleasure to the giver than the receiver.  The position of need is modeled by Christ in two of the most powerful moments of history and he talks about it a great deal in all four gospels.  It seems to me that the response to need is an evidence of how the universe works.  Maybe it’s different than we thought?

I have seen a version of this response lately in the actions of many of my friends and neighbors.  They have offered to cook and bring food and help serve neighbors for a Christmas Dinner on Christmas Day.  They have delighted to take tags off the Giving Tree and bring gifts for people they do not know and do not expect to meet.  I know they have smiled inwardly and felt a deeper, more pervasive sense of enjoyment than when they do these same things for their own personal benefit.  There is something powerful about the gift of need.

We have undervalued it.  I suspect that, in this Kingdom of Heaven we have been invited to, the value of need may be just as significant as any other gift, perhaps even more valuable.  It may even be possible that being in need is the greatest gift that has ever been given.  For, if we were not in need, we could not be in relationship.  Without relationship, our eternity would be forfeit or at least void of meaning, joy, hope, love, discovery, beauty and awestruck wonder. 

Soon after Jesus introduced this invitation to the Kingdom of Heaven, he describes the residents and property owners of his Kingdom.  They are poor in spirit, mourning and meek.  They hunger and thirst after righteousness, they are merciful, pure in heart, peacemaking and persecuted.  This new realm is designed as the home to return to for originally perfect humans. They were cast out of the garden, ruined.  His kingdom is made for the broken.  The new residents of the Spiritual Realm where love, faith and hope bring restoration are those whose need is clearly evident and submitted to.  And they are blessed.

Jesus spends his days reaching into the lives of the people he touches.  He touches them with power and changes them.  One real interaction with the power of his love and they are free, shouting for joy, smiling through tears and telling everyone they meet.  Can you imagine his satisfied chuckle as he watches a running, skipping, hollering former leper he has just told to “tell no one”?  I can just see him muttering sarcastically to Peter without a trace of annoyance, “They never listen…”

When questioned and challenged by the super-religious who thought it was unbecoming that he spend so much time with the unruly, unclean and unrepentant, he said, “It is not the healthy that need a doctor.”  Isn’t it the greatest feeling in the world to go to the doctor, worried about some ailment’ you’re sure is deadly (maybe that’s just me) and find out that it’s just a common issue and a couple helpings of little pills will make it go away?  Or better yet, go see the magic chiropractor, Dr. Allen.  Show up in pain and leave breathing deeply.

In my life over the last few years, I have experienced the pain and fear of subtraction.  Much of that which I have relied upon for life and security is gone.  I relate to people who have seen heaven open and received job loss, debilitating illness and broken relationship.  Things that can’t be fixed.  Funny thing, crazy idea… I’m not sure I want to go back.  When people have said to me, “Don’t worry Curtis, you’ll figure it out and before you know it, you’ll be right back where you were,” I shudder and my mouth tastes sour. 

I caught myself in the middle of a conversation with Jesus about how cool it would be if he gave me a million bucks.  We were running along (maybe he was floating…) and the conversation just fell flat.  After awhile, he said, “really…?” in that thought provoking way that implied his awareness of my wisdom juxtaposed with curiosity about my stupidity.  A few steps later the light slowly came on.  It’s on a dimmer switch like the one in my dining room.  It’s a pretty cool set up called a three way switch which is nice in the dining room since it’s nearly nine feet from one end to the other and it keeps me from having to walk all that way to turn the light on or off.  We can do it from either end of the room.  In this case though, one of the switches has both the switch and the slider thingy for dimming.  So, if the dimmer slider is in the down position, you can furiously flick either switch to your hearts dismay and nothing will come on.  You can even run back and forth, muttering foully under your breath, growing in volume switching one up and down and the other back and forth and … nothing.  If the dimmer is not quite all the way down and you flip the switch, the light will come on dimly and accompanied by a undulating high frequency squeal that will eventually cause the grey matter cells in your to head vibrate and explode.  We lost a few hamsters in this unfortunate scenario.  So, you gotta move the dimmer switch all the way up if you want the light to be useful and not just create tripping hazards.  That is very much the story of the light that Jesus has to work with in my head.  He is very patient and when he mutters, it is mostly gentle teasing (as far as I can tell).

So, when the light came on, I got this lop-sided Charlie brown grin on my face and realized that I didn’t really want a million bucks.  I want to see Jesus come through.  He is so cool that way, when he shows up, comes through.  Those moments that I realize that God is actually involved in my life in both the intimate, mundane details and the glorious, stadium shaking pinnacle moments; those are the moments where life is most real and most breathtaking.  It is when I need that I find the ecstasy of rescue and the joy of salvation.

I’m trying to take Jesus at his word.  When he says that the poor are blessed along with those who mourn and hunger and thirst and make peace, I’m trying to believe that.  Most of the time it is an unsubstantiated choice for trust.  But here and there (certainly not everywhere) the light shines and I can see some evidence.  Funny that most of the time, I have believed for a while before I see evidence.  In this particular case, the idea of the undervalued position of need has been sloshing around in my head for a couple days.  I suppose, precipitated somewhat by the Christmas season. 

I propose, taking his word for it, that need is just as valuable, maybe more valuable than gift.  It may in fact be a gift.  Here is my logic.  If it is better to give than receive (no one really argues with that), then isn’t the receiver giving the “better” gift?  What is harder to offer, humble need or generous giving?  Who is looked down on, the needy or the self-reliant? 

What about the body illustration?  If I am a liver, it is true that I am vital to the body.  Due to my vital-ness, I have an important gift to give – I am so important.  But I cannot survive, function or provide any benefit at all unless I am in constant fulfilled need from the rest of the body.  Without the supply of blood from heart and vein, the removal of waste by kidney, bladder and bowel , the processing of oxygen by lungs or the protection of muscle and bone, I would be a lump of meat.  What I have to offer is in tension with my need.  The true glory of the other parts of the body comes into play when I am broken and they work together to bring healing.  That is where deep connectedness grows from dependence and gratitude.

Back to Christmas - when the time had come for the final battle, the fulfillment of promise, while the Israelites were watching for the invasion of a conqueror and his mighty army, an embryo was formed by the miraculous interaction between the Holy Spirit and an egg in the womb of an unmarried teen-age girl.  A baby was born in a cave with a bunch of smelly livestock.  Dirty, outcast shepherds were the first to know.  He grew up poor and hard working and lived his public life jobless and relying on the generosity of his friends for food and shelter.  The most incomprehensible demonstrations of the power of the creator were the invasion by a helpless baby and the culmination of his ministry in his death on the cross.  He needed.  He was alone with our need.  He cried, wracked by the pain, sorrow and hopelessness of my lost-ness and yours – our need.

Jesus has been present at every point of my brokenness, the causes and the outworking.  He has heard and felt the messages that I have received and known the doubt and sense of powerlessness.  He has been betrayed, left out, overlooked and unheard.  He has been accused, forsaken and cast aside.  For you and I, he bore every pain, hurt and sin we have ever or will ever interact with and at that point he needed.  Somehow, in his great power, he needed and somehow, out of his need he has given the gift of life – restored life.  Clearly, this is a great mystery.

And so, those that seem less honorable, we treat with greater honor.  Those who are in need are blessed.  Not the got-everything-figured-out’s but the oh-crap-what-do-I-do-now’s have been invited to repentance and participation in the Kingdom.  The guy who rescued us did not come galloping up to Bethlehem with chariots and swords drawn (at least not in this realm).  In our world he came crying, needing his mother and he ended up dying, needing his Father. 

This mystery is a mystery.  It cannot be solved, it can only be wondered at and trusted…or not.  It’s intent is to reveal, through the saints, the manifold wisdom of our Father to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly realms - the realm of the Kingdom of Heaven that, here and now, we have been invited to.  It is the gift of needing that he introduced with power that first Christmas.  And it is very much worth celebrating.

For more on this, check out Matthew 9, Ephesians 3 and 1 Corinthians 12.

Watching Momentum

It’s all about the shoes.  At least for me, this time, the shoes were the X-factor.  You know that feeling of freedom and joy that comes when you were broken and now you’re not?  The day you realize your back doesn’t hurt anymore, your head isn’t filled with mucus or the results came back saying your were healthy; that is a good day… if only we could remember. 

I am a runner.  I am not a fair weather runner.  I am not a competitive runner.  I run to be outside, to pray, to live well, to think clearly and to know that I can run.  I catch myself, sometimes, watching my feet change places rhythmically.  It’s wonderful to see forward momentum.  I love country roads and the frogs croaking, crickets chirping while the trees turn dark against the wide colored sky.  It makes me chuckle and holler with unbridled, happy energy. 

Four months ago, I got a new pair of the wrong shoes.  I ran less than 60 miles before my knee got all disconnected from itself.  I discovered this disconnectedness when I bent down to put a tire on a trailer and it popped.  My eyes popped wide from the realization that I had just inadvertently quit running for some indeterminate length of time.  “Oh Shucks!,” I thought, “well, maybe it will get better really fast…”  I didn’t really think “oh shucks,” but this is a PG story.  So, I bent down over and over that day, putting on trailer tires.  My knee didn’t get better really fast.  I let it rest for a couple days, then went running in those shiny new shoes; just a couple slow miles.  Then a few days later four miles; ouch.  So I let it rest a whole week then ran a 10k.  I had to get the shirt.  The bummer about that 10k, the Pints to Pasta, was the parking.  It was a 10-minute walk for a healthy person and a 30-minute walk for a pretending-to-be-thoughtful-while-I-try-not-to-cry-because-my-knee-oh-my-knee-hurts-so-bad.  And yes, I do drive a little truck with a clutch. 

I let it rest even longer, this time because I could barely walk.  I studied and determined it was the little band (MCL) that connected the top bone to the bottom bone on the inside of my left knee.  My symptoms indicated only a level one sprain.  Then I ran again, just a tiny bit.  No good, I could tell it wasn’t going to work.  So I went to see my magical, mystical, only $45.00 per session chiropractor.  He pressed, pulled and popped and said it was fixed.  I could run two days later on Friday and he would be in on the weekend if I needed it.  I waited.  Aren’t I disciplined?  A full week later I strapped on the shoes and went for a short, achingly slow run.  It still hurt.  By now, my nice guy patience was transparent in most places and see through in all the others. 

I started riding and swimming.  My sitter ached, my hair turned to burnt broom strands but it didn’t hurt my knee.  I didn’t even try to run.  Like I said – discipline.  I even tried hot yoga.  It was hot.  I would have quit that but I was in a room full of small women and my wife was right next to me.  That wasn’t discipline; I just didn’t want the humiliation.  All this time, I feel sad, I feel lost and empty.  I’m irritated by everything.  My mind goes too fast and I’m unpleasant to be around.  I’m considering either becoming a monkish or just giving myself over to junk food and B movies on late night TV… and infomercials. 

Then, here is where the story turns; I got my Somnio Line Up Device.  See, for the last several months, I have been considering being a “Somniac”.  This is the moniker for a person who represents Somnio Shoe Company and helps people solve their running problems.  Somnio is a new company that created a customizable running shoe.  Using different inserts and cushioning options, a Somniac can create a shoe that perfectly matches the biomechanical needs of each foot and leg of a runner.  So it is possible, with 650 different options, to create a different shoe for each foot.  The Line Up Device uses lasers to determine a runner’s angle of pronation.  I am “supposedly” an over-pronator. 

So, I got my Line Up Device.  I watched the video.  I tried it out on myself.  It said I’m not an over-pronator.  I scowled in consternation and tried it again.  Same thing.  I scowl some more and pull on my beard (it helps me think).  I look at my old running shoes and watch a couple more videos.  Suspicion starts brewing and I walk around aimlessly for awhile, muttering to myself and postulating to my kids and my wife.  They look and me and roll their eyes.  I have my daughter run the line up device and tell me what my knees are doing.  She confirms my suspicions.  I call Somnio and run my theory by them.  They confirm it to. 

I have been wearing the wrong shoes.  I am the opposite of an over-pronator.  I had essentially, with those shiny new shoes, strapped a brick to the inside of my foot.  What is called medial posting, intended to halt foot motion, was banging the crap out of the joints in my right leg.  So, every time things started feeling better, I put those shoes on and went for a little run… Yeah, kind of like trying to heal a scab by rubbing it with 36 grit sand paper.  Or like fixing a cavity by holding 300 gummy bears in your mouth for 12 hours.  It’s just not going to work.

Somnio sent me a new pair of shoes (for free).  I had ordered a motion control version back when I was an over pronator.  While I waited, I started running just a little in my old shoes.  And…nothing.  Nothing hurt.  I iced, just to be safe and to prove to my daughter that I was tough enough to do for five minutes what she did every day for 20.  I ran again and again, even in shoes with over 750 miles on them.  I got my new Somios and ran a 5k with my wife.  I’m ok.  My knees don’t hurt.  I ran this morning in the rain and cold with my soggy running dog getting my leg wet.  Splashing through puddles, I smiled really wide in the gray morning. 

The lesson here – I did not know who I was.  I wore armor that did not fit and it broke me.  I could not be me in the wrong shoes.  I am a certain kind of person.  I can’t be another kind.  If I know who I am, it tells me what I should do.  When I then try to do that thing – it works.  Even if it doesn’t look like it at first.  Even if it feels awkward.  If I be me, it works.  The whole wide world is ready for me.  I’m ready for it, but only in the right shoes.

Too Tired

I woke up this morning, or sort of.  My eyes opened to the darkness and my body started doing things.  I’m pretty sure I was not really awake.  The alarm on the septic system screamed again from outside the fence… in the rain.  Three hours later, I’m still not awake.  The alarm went off again.  I looked in the hole.  Nothing there worth getting excited about.  I’ve listlessly cleaned my little writing space up in the bonus room and put stuff away.  Nothing on my list today fills me with energy and drive.  It’s not that there isn’t great stuff on the list.  Even yesterday, some of my plans for today were invigorating.  There is something wrong. 

I think… I’m tired…. of waiting… No, I’m sure of it.  I am desperately tired of waiting. 

There is plenty in my life worth getting excited about.  I have an amazing wife.  I have fantastic children.  I even have nifty pets.  I spend time with interesting people that I really care about.  I often smile inwardly at how blessed I am.  God loves me ever more than I can imagine.  I expect to do incomprehensible things as I walk with my friend Jesus. 

Even so, this happens often.  I wake up and my flannel sheets call insistently to my hurting soul.  My desire is gasping for breath.  My heart only murmurs unintelligibly.  I desperately want to stay in the dark and the warmth and not try – at all.  Don’t talk, don’t ask, I have no answer, nothing valuable to share.  I am not who I was meant to be and the world is even worse than I am.  I am waiting to be put back together in a place that is not intent on my death.  The struggle to experience what I long for is a frequent battle.

Today is one of those days. 

I can feel my enemy trying to trick me.  He lies and offers compelling evidence.  The world is all f**ked up.  Look at it.  Look at your life.  Nothing is working right.  You’ve screwed it all up.  It’s never going to be what you wanted.  The horrifying truth is, I can’t deny it.  I have made mistakes, big ones.  I’ve made them that I knew better than to make.  The consequences of my mistakes have altered my life and the lives of many around me.  What I wanted never is going to happen.

Quietly, distantly I begin to remember that the enemy is ignorant.  He can only remind me of what I wanted.  But really, I don’t want it anymore.  More in checking than I need, that ultra cool restored 79 F-350, prestige, position, a big house and multiple levels of assured security have lost their allure.   My hunger pangs have been met.  I have been dabbling in Jesus because he asked me and I’ve finally concluded that nothing else seems to work.  My suspicions are being confirmed.  It is as he has been saying.  He has invited me to something better.  So much better it cannot be described by comparison.

This new man that I am becoming is impossible for my enemy to understand.  My old self has shrunk and is replaced with a man who is humiliated but glorious, broken but unconquerable, I am poor, I hunger now, I weep now, I am excluded and rejected now but I rejoice and laugh because I am great in the Kingdom.  I am a friend to the King and his heart toward me is more than I can even wish.   I fight by his side for the kingdom and he hands me weapons he has invented that my enemy cannot defend against.  I love, I forgive, I extend grace, I am patient, I am kind, I am slow to speak and quick to listen.  I share and walk the extra mile.  All my enemy can do against these weapons is stamp his feet, whine and try to trick me into wanting what my old life offered.  But I do not want it.  On the days and in the hours and minutes I forget what I want, Jesus call to me.  He will come and rescue me again and again because I am his.  I am safe.  I am good and it will always be thus.

I will be ok today.  It will pass.  The fog and the sorrow and the aching frustration of waiting will fade and I will awaken.  Probably my wife will pray and hug and kiss me.  My friends, unknowingly, will be themselves and it will heal me as I am reminded how wonderful they are.  Coffee will help a little.  I will come to the end of the shadow and light will find me again.  I will withstand in the evil day and having done all I will stand.  I will begin to feel encouraged and it will grow and grow.  I will do incompressible things because Jesus does not depend on me to stay with him.  I depend on him to keep me. 

It is good to remember that waiting is better than being lost forever.  The Kingdom of Heaven is near.  I can wait a little longer.

Pick Right

PICK RIGHT – Acts 17
         The other morning a guy asked me if I believed in other gods.  He was a new Craig’s list friend that had interrupted my morning to take the weight of some left over cardboard off my shoulders.  When he got out of his little blue faded Chevy pickup with the mismatched canopy, I asked him how he was.  I remind myself again, dangerous, unpredictable question.  It’s like bending over to pick up the mail right in the middle of a sneeze.  Doesn’t seem like it would require a big effort, or even any attention, but if you aren’t prepared, you could find yourself in traction.  Yes, you can actually blow up the finely constructed discs in your back if you are bent funny when you sneeze.  It’s the same with the “how ya doin’?” question.  If you ask and you are unprepared, not paying attention, you may find yourself in the midst of a three-hour conversation with a former stranger as God puppeteers you while he alters a life right before your eyes. 
            This guy, Uncle Paul he told me, was the kind of guy I tend to like immediately.  Unassuming, confident, on the hairy side, worn out work clothes, calluses, a bit gimpy and a bit grumpy; he projected an air of not needing to prove anything.  When he answered me, he hesitated a long slow moment, preparing to lie.  Then in a sighing drawl, “Oh, doin’ alright.”  The inflection at the end halfway between question and statement – he knew that if I was paying attention, I would know he was lying.  But he was looking to get some weight off his shoulders to.  In this case, I knew I should hold still and listen; I really wanted to hear whatever he had to say.  I told him he wasn’t very convincing and he quit lying. 
            We started talking.  We loaded up the cardboard, tied it down, shut the tailgate and then stood there trading stories and sizing each other up.  My suspicions were right.  He was the kind of guy I liked.  A craftsman of fiberglass motorcycle, boat and NASCAR parts and anything else he could get paid for.  Business was slowing down, kids were not what he had hoped and his overworked joints took too long to drag out of bed every morning.  Eventually we got to the meaning of life; or maybe that’s where we had started.  Like I said, he asked me if I believed in other Gods.
The string between God and my Styrofoam cup was vibrating while he was asking me the question.  During the seven nanoseconds from when I knew what he was asking and before he reached the question mark, I un-forgot an old epiphany.  He mentioned, for example, an old Indian lady who genuinely believed in Buddha.  How could I know that she was wrong and I was right?  That question is slightly off  target and I think most of the time, through defensiveness, I/we miss the point.  It’s not that there are not other gods.  Of course there are, they are referred to repeatedly all through scripture.  Often they are called idols.  There are lots of gods.  Pick any one you want.  There are gods who will be your boyfriend, make you rich, “supposedly” control the weather, fertility, health, peace on earth, protection from evil spirits and any other kind of influence you want or are worried about.  In varying and unpredictable degrees of effectiveness, you can pick your god by what services and benefits they provide.  Some gods offer harmony with the rest of the world, some offer multiple virgin wives in eternity (how long can that last?), some offer the ultimate state of nothingness (nirvana) and some offer reincarnation.  Nearly all suggest that if you behave correctly, things will work out, you will be blessed.  So, the harder you try, the more or better you get it both now and forever.
In my mind, the question of how do I know I’m right and someone else who has chosen a different god is wrong is not focused on whether their god exists or not.  It’s much more focused on how cool he is.  I say, lots of gods exist, so pick the best one.  Pick the super duper, tougher than all the rest, knows everything, all powerful, everywhere at once, defies comprehension, knows me personally and cares about my life God.  Pick the God of all Gods.  The one who is in charge of all the rest.  The one who wrote the story.  The central figure in the story.  The one who chooses all the characters and puts them in the roles he designed them for.  Pick the one who has both this temporal world and all of eternity under his creative control and he is doing a great job so far.
But there is another reason.  It may be the main one as far as I am concerned.  All other gods and religions require my behavior as a prerequisite for the benefits they offer.  This concerns me.  It’s not that I’m not a pretty good guy.  My wife, my kids, my parents and my friends like me (as far as I know).  I’m not overly irresponsible.  I am sincere (mostly).  I smell ok most of the time – I do falter in this area if there is an opportunity for Mongolian Grill – I love that stuff.  I’m not all that disciplined or organized or attentive.  All of my “pretty nice guy” status is added, subtracted defined and measured according to the culture I live in.  I have some insight into the selfish nature that drives me, the weakness I struggle with and my tendency to take the easy route.   I am concerned.
Frankly, I do not look forward to an eternity I had to work for on earth.  My earning capacity it way too limited and the time frame is too short.  It will be lame, I am sure of it.  If, according to all those other gods, I have a bunch of stuff I have to do right in order to get the benefits of their program, then they are lame gods.  Why would I want them if I have to do all the work (or any of the work for that matter)?  I think, if you are going to set yourself up as a god, then you should be badass!  You should take all the responsibility, do all the work and not rely on a bunch of weak, whiny, stupid people who can’t remember the lesson from the last painful mistake they made for more than a couple days (at best).  If you are going to be god, you should get credit for making everything, being in charge of it, keeping it going, having a purpose for every single minute aspect of it and you should both be in it and bigger than it.  You ought to know literally everything and be beyond the understanding of squeaky Cindy Lou Who and all the rest of us in Who Ville. 
Bottom line, if you claim to be god, then by my definition and any logical, satisfying definition of god – you should be totally in charge of making everything and everyone that is cool, cool!  If you have to rely on anyone or anything else to accomplish this, then as a god, you suck!
So, in conclusion, I don’t say that the devout Buddha worshipper is worshipping nothing.  I believe in their god.  I just don’t have any faith in their god or his motives.  I say it’s the wrong god and not actually worthy of worship.  It does not love them.  It cannot save them.  It is actually intent on their destruction.  Even if all it said were true, what it offers is less than I want.  I want and need and recommend the God who loves me, died to prove it and offers life apart from my ability for eternity.  Anything less is a lot less. 

God Does Not Need Me

God does not need us.  I have heard this many times in the last few decades.  Often this statement comes as I wonder awestruck and twitterpated at God’s invitation to participate in some crazy scheme he has been cooking up, to be a part of his wild, passionate, dangerous life.  It’s as if I have crossed a line and need to be warned.  “It’s ok to love God and to think you are loved by him, but, you better be careful if you start thinking he needs you…” Head shaking and dark, sideways glancing tsk tsking follow.  Ironically, this rebuff is normally offered in an attempt to elevate his holiness and self-sufficiency.  As if thinking that God needs me would somehow be an offense or an indication of weakness on his part. 

            I have also wondered if this sudden urgency to deny God’s need of his chosen people comes from fear.  If God did need me, would it imply a requirement that I could never meet?  After all, I am a worm, a sinful, dirty creature incapable of any good thing.  What could I ever bring of myself that God would need?  But - if the life of Christ in us is what has made us able to relate to God…  If I am now a new creature…  If I have been restored…  If I have died and been raised to life and am now seated with the Father….  If my sins have been erased…  Then, I am not a worm.  I have a new identity.  I am a friend and brother of Jesus.  I am a son of the King.  I am his bride and body.  It is mysterious and powerful beyond comprehension, but I do know that I can give to God anything he requires of me because it is Him in me that gives me life.

            So what anyway? So what if God doesn’t need me?  When I think of “need” I think of needing a ride or needing to eat lunch or needing to get my teeth cleaned.  Sure, for any of these things I will have preferences.  I’d rather get from A to B in a fast car with a hot babe, eat 15 tacos for lunch and get my teeth checked by someone gentle who uses plenty of gas.  When it comes down to it though, if I need these things, I’ll take them any way I can get them.  I’ll ride with a fat smelly guy with an all too frequent squeaky laugh in his faded blue 76 Datsun pickup with plastic on the passenger side window.  I’ll eat soggy left over fish sticks at the day care center.  I’ll get my teeth checked by a hygienist who just got dumped by her boyfriend.  I will be willing because I need to get ‘er done.

           It seems to me that the arguable question of whether God needs me is secondary.  I’m willing to pass on the vehement argument and let the strangely defensive person feel as though God has been protected and nothing too much is required of them.  The primary hope that I have is that God wants me.  As I consider it, if he wants me, then why do I care if he needs me or not?  Going back to my preferences.  They indicate choice; the hot babe in the fast car is my wife.  I have picked her, repeatedly.  I want her in every way I can have her.  I am attracted to her, I love the sound of her voice, the way she laughs, the taste of her kiss and the smell of her hair.  I want to know what she thinks and how she feels.  I watch her walk around in my living room and enjoy her beauty.  I like it so very much when she gets dressed up and puts on jewelry and perfume because she wants to be beautiful for me.  I want to open her door and hold her hand and pick out food together and dance slow.  She’s amazing and I WANT her.  Another woman could meet my needs and be my partner.  Someone different could do the things she does and I would survive.  It just wouldn’t be the woman I want.  I want the woman I picked.  My need for her is overwhelmingly eclipsed by my want for her.  I think the illustration is clear enough to leave out the difference between needing food and wanting tacos or needing my teeth checked and wanting it to be as comfortable as possible.  When the want is present, the need is secondary.

            The conclusion then is a switch in wondering.  I wonder if God wants me?  I think he does.  Here is my reasoning.  First of all, why in the name of all that is appropriate and well deserved would God put up with all the crap we fling at him and on ourselves if he did not want us?  Why would he send his son to claim his bride?  Why would he call us his bride and go to prepare a place for us?  Why would he say he wants us if he doesn’t?  The answer is obvious and irrefutable.  God does want us.  The entire story of the bible is about his pursuit of us.  He has literally gone through hell to rescue us from ourselves.  He has sacrificed everything that can be sacrificed because he wants us. 

          I can believe that God wants me; you can believe that God wants you because he says so and he backs it up with irrefutable evidence.  Read the story:  He gave us life.  We denied him and chose our own way.  He provided a way back.  We couldn’t get there.  He came and got us and paid for our return.  He has invited us again to walk with him.  He speaks to us an identity of endearment.  He continues to invite, to woo, to pursue and offer.  He celebrates with ecstasy every time we accept.  He tells us of the wedding, the feast and our life together.  He promises that all will be good.  I believe him.

Different Kind of Weapons

Jesus, born a baby, grew into a man with calluses on his hands.  He worked like any other man to subdue the broken world around him.  When the time came, he was identified as the Son of God.  He withstood the temptation of the enemy not by the strength of his flesh, which had been stripped away by hunger, but by obedience and trust in the one who was his strength.  He began to preach, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”  The mystery of his kingdom unified the chosen who were long lost and the lost who were newly chosen.  His kingdom was established with violence against the forces of evil.  He stood against them in battle with powerful weapons against which they had no defense.  The power of the world trembled with confusion, sin crumbled and the enemy was forced to accept defeat.  Normal broken men wielded the weapons of the Messiah; weapons they knew to use only as they were given by him and through him into the broken hearts of the lost.  The weapons that turned the tide of battle to victory for the poor in spirit, the mourning, the meek and those who hungered and thirsted for righteousness were weapons of the heart.  They were wielded by the eternal, unstoppable power of forgiveness through grace. 
 
As the creator reached into the still heart of his son, killed by the crushing weight of hopelessness, defeat and sorrow, new life came forth.  Death evaporated in a black explosion of mist, sin washed away, diluted to nothingness by the everlasting source of love.  Jesus rose and set forth a kingdom in which those who were powerless in the world became powerful.  He has invited the weak to become strong, the poor to become rich and the lost to become found.  He gives love to be given, forgiveness to be extended, hope, joy, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and understanding; against which there is no defense. 

The invitation is for all who would accept; repent, become apart of the kingdom of Jesus.  Abandon your life and its pain, give it to him and take up his life, freely offered.  Become new, become whole and live as a completely transformed person.  Live as a person with the same incomparable power in you that brought the Messiah back to life.  He breathed again in spite of the great power of the death of all creation focused on him.  You can wield that power through the same weapons he used to save you.  By love, by grace, by forgiveness, by hope and by kindness you can vanquish the warriors of hell and build a kingdom in the heart of people that will last for all eternity, unchallengeable.  You do not need anything else but Jesus. 

How can this battle and its victory play out in every day life?  You and I can walk with Jesus.  Our lives can be worship to him and healing to those around us.  We can offer a kind word, serve in a simple practical way, pray, share food and drink and time, fix a broken gate, mend a torn shirt or listen to a story.   We can fix computers, wash dishes, help with math homework and play catch in the street.  These are not simple, weak things in the Kingdom of God – they are His weapons of mass destruction.  In this way, measured in this way, defined in opposition to the world, the kingdom of heaven is established by you and me.  It is powerful beyond our comprehension or measurement by the power of he who has saved the world.  His work and our faith to follow will restore all things to him who began it all. 

Go, therefore, wherever you are led.  Extend the invitation of Jesus and watch as he changes the hearts and lives of those he brings you to.  Keep the faith, continue to grow side by side with those who are being saved with you.  Do not become discouraged by the lies of the enemy that the world has believed all around you.  After all, which is better; to work for the dissatisfying and temporary rewards of the world or to give yourself to the eternal and fully complete rewards of the Kingdom of Heaven?  I’m just askin’…