I Need Community Or I'll Die

In the first week Robert probably saved my life. It was a preventative measure, and it was high school, but his impact on my life was enormous. He may not even know. It's amazing how we can change one another's lives so nonchalantly.

It went like this: I'd graduated 8^th grade from St. Paul Lutheran as part of a class of 32 students, which was a record at the time. Most of my classmates went on to small Christian high schools. I went to a public school where I joined an incoming class of over 500. I knew about seven people, and I rarely saw any of them. Being alone was bearable for the six hours out of the day when there was class but lunchtime bad. Lunchtime was terrifying.

Photo by: The U.S. Army

The cafeteria was packed, but somehow it was never crowded enough for me to inconspicuously sit anywhere. The tables were round, so sitting meant approaching a group. I was afraid to sit with a group who might reject me, so I sat alone at an empty table and my table stayed empty all through lunch. It felt pathetic to be so alone in such a crowded room. The same thing happened on the second day. And the third day. I felt so lonely I wanted to cry.

On the last day in that cafeteria I sat down feeling insignificant, awkward and alone. Then Robert walked up to me and changed me life. I'd seen Robert at St. Paul and at church but we hadn't talked much.

“Come on” Said Robert, “We don't eat here.”

I didn't know exactly what he meant but he was talking to me and that felt nice. He said “we” too, which felt even better. I followed Robert and he lead me to a little nook in the science hall where he and the kids from the Christian Club ate. Maybe it's dorky that we had a club, but I really needed those people. I ate with them every day for the next four years. They were there for me when I needed a place to belong. They were my family when I was alone.

Being alone is the worst. We weren't created for it (Genesis 2:18), and God wants better for us. We're meant for families, both real families and adoptive families. I don't meant to say we ought to never take a moment alone. I'm an introvert and I need time alone, but even as an introvert I know I cannot survive without a loving community.

I believe there is no comfort like that of truly belonging. Sadly we often live without the supportive communities we were created to thrive in. We hang back from meeting new people because we imagine we aren't interesting or cool enough. We avoid friendships we think will carry too much work. We don't share our struggles because we tell ourselves we aren't important. We even hold back encouragement and compliments so we don't appear too attached. We keep one another alone when we were created to be in awesome communities. Brothers and Sisters, this is all very dumb and we need to cut it out.

I know that it is hard to offer or to ask for help. It requires vulnerability. We get hurt when we're vulnerable, but it's so totally worth it. Jesus made himself vulnerable so that we could have a relationship with him. He got hurt, but still thought we were valuable enough to do it anyway. Jesus loves us, thinks we're terrific, created us exquisitely, and is excited to walk through life with us. With our confidence grounded in him, we needn't fear rejection. When we reach out, the worst thing that can happen is that someone may decline our awesome friendship. That's sad to be sure, but the way I see it it's their loss.

Root yourself in Jesus and take confidence in knowing he's crazy about you. Then reach out and love somebody. You just may save their life.

Jesus Is A Hugger

The worst is not knowing whether or not to hug somebody. You see somebody you love, value and perhaps miss dearly; you smile widely and move forward to . . . second guess yourself.

Photo by Joi Ito

I do this. I ruin hugs. I rush toward them and then I hesitate,

“Are we 'huggin' friends?” I wonder at the worst moment possible, “Is this ok?” “Will this make them uncomfortable?” “Will it ruin everything?”

Now I've waited too long and it's awkward either way.

I ought to be honest with myself. I've never lost a friend because I hugged them. Only once in all of my memory have I hugged a person and known it was a mistake. They didn't want my hug. In my defense we went from hugging friends to non-hugging friends overnight via hearsay and gossip. Not my bad. They hugged back though, but their body language told me not to hug that guy again.

Hugs are seldom mistakes, still I hesitate though my pro-hug instincts tell me I've left friends in need without the hugs they craved.

Humans need hugs. You've probably heard that babies face huge challenges when deprived of touch. A human being's need for physical contact doesn't evaporate once they learn to walk. We all need touch. We need hugs. I'm in the camp that recommends 12 a day.

Hugs. I need hugs; I love them - but I'm so awkward. I love people, but I get so stupid self-conscious that I talk myself out of hugging. I'm terrified they'll be all weird because I busted out the hugs, despite the fact that this has literally never happened.

“Don't be weird about this” I tell myself. “They like you.”

I love hugging-friends. I don't mean just my friends I hug regularly. I love them, but I especially appreciate those friends who hug no matter what the time and place are. I love their confidence. They never sneak hug, side hug, one arm, or awkwardly hug too slowly or for too long. These are friends for whom hugs are a special ministry. They remind me that I'm OK, and that touch is good.

I am not yet one of these people. I don't have the joy that they do. The hugs they give are given liberally and lovingly. My hugs smack of a fear of rejection. This is a shortcoming. This is not God's will for me; scripture says perfect love casts out all fear (1 John 4:18). Slowly but surely God is getting me there. I can count on Jesus for that.

You see, Jesus touched the untouchables. He was a hugger. He was a hugging-friend. He IS a hugging-friend. He's not afraid of our rejection, but liberally offers his heart to anyone. Jesus loves us without hesitation, judgement or fear. Despite our resistance to him, Jesus never hesitates to bring us into his arms.

I'm held back by fear, but knowing God's love helps me move forward. What keeps you from passing that love forward? What gives you courage?

RE: Psalm 42 Our Panting Soul

The Touch by: Alan Levine

This is a singularly sensuous psalm; I love it. It initiates with an image of thirst, wild thirst, uncurbed by propriety which become the driving force of one's whole being (Psalm 42:1-2). I feel that thirst; we all do. Rarely do we see it for what it is: a thirst for God which is sated in him alone.

Unaware of it's true purpose, some idolize this kind of thirst, imitating and paying homage to it with stories of passionate romance, wanderlust, and lofty dreams that refuse deferment. Others have been disappointed by the world's inability to fulfil their innermost longing, and they live in fear of the thirst, telling cautionary tales like that of Icarus. Fear and idolatry both miss God's purpose for our thirst.

“Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger: well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim: well, there is such a thing as water. Men feel sexual desire: well there is such a thing as sex. If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing.” (C.S. Lewis. Mere Christianity)

Challenge:

Read Psalm 42. Remember that no matter what life is like now it is God's desire to make you whole, to satisfy your deepest longings and unite yourself in perfect intimacy. Say the words of Psalm 42:11 today, “Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.”

RE: Psalm 34 And The Fear Of The Lord

 

I was parallelized by fear. I had been praying in a field, weeping profuse apologies to a God I thought was too just to listen to my prayers. Then in an instant I felt the mighty presence of the Lord, and he told me to be quiet. I actually stopped thinking thoughts because I was afraid that thinking would violate God's order to be quiet. In the silence that followed, I began to listen.

After about an hour of silent fear, someone else spoke to me. They mentioned a story I'd heard before about unconditional love, and in a single moment my fear evaporated. I comprehended something greater than my inadequacy: the vast and immeasurable love of the God that died to forgive me. Fear left me. My life has never been the same.

“The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge” - Proverbs 1:7

Since I first met the Lord I've been surprised to hear Christians speak affectionately of the fear of the Lord. While fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, it is just that, a beginning. Fear of the Lord made me crave reconciliation with God, and I was not disappointed. God reconciled himself to me in Christ Jesus. Since that day fear has held no place in my relationship with God. I have had bouts of fear to be sure, but no more than I have had bouts of sin or doubt. The fact is that I am now God's son, and if he redeemed me when I was corrupt, he will do more now that I am redeemed (Romans 5:8-9).

Photo By Babasteve

The fear of the Lord was the beginning of my journey with him, but as I've gotten to know God my fear has sharply receded. Fear is, after all a lousy basis for any relationship. When a leader is feared we call them a tyrant; fear of a spouse is a sign of abuse, and so too is fear of a parent. God is not a tyrant and God is not abuse; God is love (1 John 4:8). John says perfect love casts out all fear (1 John 4:18).

Do you fear the Lord? If you do, then I have some great news. You don't have to be afraid any more. You must have faith in order to fear the Lord. Take that faith a step further and lay your fear down. Once God's people had reason to fear him, and were commanded to fear him (Psalm 34:8-9) But I do not believe that fear must be part of our redeemed relationship with God. Jesus called his disciples friends (John 15:15). I'm not afraid of my friends, and I'm not afraid of my God. God loves me, and there's no fear in love.

RE: Psalm 31

While at Concordia I had classmates who sometimes felt like they weren't real Christians simply because their faith story was not dramatic. Most of them were baptized as infants, but had heard the exciting testimonies of born again ex-Islamic extremists, recovering alcoholics, and ex-gangsters. They heard the stories of how God had intervened in powerful ways in the lives of extraordinary individuals, and they felt a little jealous because God had only intervened in simple ways in their own short lives. Feeling jealous of the hardships of others is not rational; this is a childish perspective to take on, but I confess that I feel this way myself.

Photo By: Jamesdale10

Psalm 31 evokes this kind of jealousy in me. I am a white, college educated, citizen of the United States of America. If I have suffered at all I have suffered little. I do not know what it is like to see the Lord's love while in a city under siege (31:21), I have never been literally delivered from a pursuing enemy (31:16), I have not known terror on every side (31:13).

When I take a mature look at the psalm I know that it is a blessing to have not experienced the suffering or affliction that the psalmist experienced. I may yet experience it or I may never experience it. That is not important. Our condition, station, and even our experiences are of peripheral importance when we properly focus on the cross. Jesus came so that at the end of days all people might enter a life free of distress, anxiety, or fear. If we suffer we can look to this psalm and know that God is with those who suffer, but even if we don't suffer we can look at this psalm and delight to remember that one man suffered once for all (1 Peter 3:18). Like him we can freely and gladly entrust our lives, our destiny, and our spirits (31:5) to the God that loves us all.

RE: Psalm 30

While sitting at my desk I got an unexpected and alarming phone call. My father-in-law was calling me to inform me that his car, which he'd given Beth and I the use of, had been towed and was quickly accumulating a staggering load of fines. I almost cried after I hung up the phone. I had been planning on paying taxes that day, taxes we could barely afford to pay off. I had no idea what we were going to do, and I was in no mood to pray, or to reflect on how God has always provided, nor was I inclined to remember the scripture I had just read about God's promise to provide. I didn't want to act wise or self-controlled; I wanted to punch things and yell. Thank God my boss noticed something was wrong and prayed with me before I had time to embarrass myself.

Photo Credit: HAWK Takahashi

Things worked out splendidly and I've no intention of explaining how.  I will say that God provided and that a few things which were at least as unexpected as an impounded car helped save the day. Right now everything is fine, situations are resolved and the song in my heart is Psalm 30, but next time I find myself in what appears to be a hopeless situation, I pray I can remember the lilies of the field.

RE: Psalm 28

I was bullied a bit as a kid. Once when I still attended a Christian school, an older boy on the school bus stomp kicked my face. I didn't tell anyone, since bullying was pretty common and I didn't want to look weak. I wanted to look strong. In fact, the desire to appear powerful became a driving force around this time in my life. I wanted to show that I was strong so I wouldn't get hurt any more. I didn't want anyone to get hurt any more. I hated bullies ferociously, so I committed myself to becoming stronger than they were. Tragically, I found out that the more I tried to be the strongest, the more my friends just got hurt by me instead of by someone else. Trying to stand up against bullies, I quickly became a one myself.

I don't think this experience is too unique. Trying to out wit and out gun the corruption and evil in our lives we easily become poisoned by our bitterness and resentment, and can ultimately become worse than what we hated at first.   It is once we recognise our own sinful power struggle that we pray the words, Do not drag me off with the wicked,with the workers of evil, who speak peace with their neighbours while evil is in their hearts (28:3). And it is with full knowledge that we are no better than our enemies that we beg for forgiveness and Blessed be the Lord! For he has heard the voice of my pleas for mercy (28:6). Thank God he remains patient and loving even when we are temperamental, judgemental, and fearful.

The Lord is the strength of his people;
he is the saving refuge of his anointed (28:8).

Photo credit: Ian Kahn

RE: Psalm 27

There are few verses in all of poetry that move my heart so much as, “Though my father and mother forsake me, the LORD will receive me” (27:10).  There were a great many times, particularly in high school, when I could not bring myself to believe that God was working things out for my good as he’d promised to do (Rom 8:28).  At those times this chapter has been reinforcement for God’s many other promises.  On any given day God may not be obviously in control, on any given day we may find ourselves poor, sick, or crippled with anxiety.  On these days Psalm 27 takes up the cry of our breaking hearts: begging God to show his goodness (17:9), and refusing to despair until he does (27:13-14).


Photo Credit: "In A Lonely Place" by PCT

The Boy Who Roars

In the day care next door there is a boy who roars.

A myriad of bright plastic toys and huge picture books litter the floor in the office-turned-daycare, but without exception he will dress up in a stretchy ninja costume and roar at people. He bothers me. The roaring in itself is not so distracting. The kids who weep, scream, and laugh don’t disturb me, but the roaring boy makes me angry, sad, and afraid.

I roared when I was a kid and was pretty violent. I roared when I felt threatened, weak or scared because I thought if other kids feared me they wouldn’t hurt me. Maybe that kid roars for the same that reasons I did; he may just think he’s a lion. That is possible for a six year old. But I hit, scratched, and bit for the same reasons that I roared. I’m certain I would have been expelled if I’d gone to a public school. I’m even more certain that without Christ I’d have gotten worse.

Christian, from Moulin Rouge says, “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.” Whether or not it’s the greatest, it has certainly been among the hardest to learn. Since I was a kid I’ve been scared people would hurt me if I wasn’t powerful; so I’ve roared, argued, grown big beards, learned big words, and hidden in the back.

Living out of fear is not God’s plan for me (1 John 4:18). I’ve gotten better and am still improving. God is changing me (Philippians 1:6). He’s teaching me to love and to be loved. I learned as a child that Jesus loved me (John 3:16); I learned in high school that God’s love was unconditional (Romans 8:38). I learned in college that loving someone meant lowering defences (1 Corinthians 13:7). Now I’m learning to submit to God's love by loving the most unlovable person, myself (Mark 12:31).

It’s hardest to love yourself because you know what you’ve done. We know what we're like, but loving ourselves is an absolute must if we don’t want to roar any more. Don't be content to live in fear; God says we don’t have to be (Philippians 4:6). We don’t need to be powerful to be safe in the God’s hand. His love is sufficient to comfort, his strength sufficient to protect.

Baby Elephant by: wwarby

Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom. –Luke 12:32

RE: Psalms 12

Psalm 12 reminds me of a friend of mine who believes the world was better when he was young. The complaint that “no one is faithful anymore”(v.1) is an ancient one and a modern one. This is why the Psalms remain relevant; they discuss immortal themes and immortal truths. It is true that at times the world seems like a dark and unforgiving place; this was as true in ancient Israel and is today. The truth of God's goodness is unchanged too. God still arises to protect the needy.

Pray today that God would act to protect the poor and needy. Be ready to be used by him.

An Insecurity Articulated

I want, with desperate passion, to matter. I want my life to mean something. I want to change the course of my neighbor's life by helping her get custody of her grandchild. I want to write and publish books before I turn 30. I want to be a teacher so that I can change the lives of my students by illuminating their minds, iron-cladding their confidence and unleashing their passions and potentials upon a world that expects ordinary. I fear and hate the idea of being remembered as ordinary, of being forgotten, of not building something that will still be around in 100 years. I crave significance like a smoker craves nicotine. I revel in the thought that I've improved the world. I find exhilaration in knowing I've been instrumental in preventing at least one suicide. I am deflated again by the memory of a suicide I could not prevent.

In school I never wanted to be an exemplary student because the students who focused on achievement were too busy to effect their environments. I always thought that the most studious, hard working students were being duped into irrelevance by allowing their self-worth to be attached to the points of a rubric. I always did my best to learn everything I could from a class without studying to pass someone else's test. I wanted to be smarter than the smartest students, and I wanted to show it by NOT getting A's, joining honor societies, or making Dean's lists. I wanted to show it by saving lives, enriching souls, and freeing spirits.

Whatever the best possible pursuit is, that is what I want to put my hand to. I want to master Tai Chi so that I can have a calm, powerful mind to counsel with, and a quiet power with which to defend the weak. I want to cook with the inspiration and cunning of James Beard, because I know that food is a universal language and I secretly hope that a perfect cup of coffee can change the direction of a man, family, or nation.

I have a friend who's story I have promised in writing never to publish. Though she goes unnamed, I will say that she brought the written word to a nation that had never known it, and brought a tribe of cannibals into the kingdom of God by putting the New testament into their language.

She is the most significant person I can imagine, and I strive to not live in the fear of being nothing like her. I fear insignificance. I fear an impotent life. I also know that a life of fear is likely to be a powerless, self-destructive life. I am therefore left to ask myself, what mindset can I take on, what cause will I champion, what is of real importance that I can pursue fearlessly and without insecurity? What should I be? The Pastor? The literature teacher? The Youth Minister? The Father? The brother? Author, business owner, CEO, lawyer, warrior, poet, counselor . . .

The people who have had the greatest shaping and illuminating impact on me are a Bible translator, several literature teachers, a youth minister, a Boy scout leader, a Tai Chi instructor, two parents, and a handful of authors.

What unifies these individuals is that they all performed their role as a service and worship to God, with the exception of one teacher and a few authors who glorified God inadvertently through their wisdom, integrity, and generosity.

My prayer is that God makes me like them. I want to speak with the words of God; I want to illuminate the world. I do not know how best to do it, what role to take or job to hold, but I rest assured in my [very Lutheran] belief that God will accomplish his work in spite of me. My role is to yield to the Holy Spirit's movement, to fall deeper in love with the God of love and to gush that love every day of my life until it kills me. Dead to my own ambitions, I can live without fear, knowing that my significance shall be eternal, and no consequence of my own action as Christ shows through me and carries unto completion the work began in me.