Thursday, June 11, 2015
Monday, February 17, 2014
I mentioned this idea yesterday in my sermon at Motion Church, but was yet again forced to reckon with it this morning, as happens often when I'm driving, by the myriad of red lights. Red lights in Central Florida are just RIDICULOUSLY long, like nowhere else I know. I hit the one my friend Kelly calls "the nexus of the universe" just as it turned red, so I checked up on twitter. Then after 4 minutes, I got to move a whole 400 feet to the next red light. Then a 1/4 mile later I hit another epically long light which everyone wanting to go to Starbucks Maitland is now forced to wait for.
Here are the thoughts as they flowed, all in about 10 seconds:
OK, you're frustrated.
Because you expect that all lights should just be green for you within 10 seconds or less.
And that's just not reality.
Are red lights really in your control anyway?
Mature people don't often get bent out of shape about things out of their control.
Accept that this is out of your control and use it as a moment to connect with God.
Hi, God. Sorry for not loving you in that moment, which I preached about just 20 hours ago.
*Light turns green.
*Guy in big luxury SUV in front of me is not paying attention and takes 5 seconds to hit the gas.
*The cycle begins again.
Thankfully, God's love is faithful, sure, and steadfast. And patient. Eventually, slowly, I will learn to just let these things go right in the moment they happen, and control what I can, which is my attitude.
Friday, April 13, 2012
It would be hard to summarize that main point, but if I could try: All Scripture is God’s gift to us, to help us get to know God and ourselves. As we read Scripture, Scripture reads us. In this way, Chuck takes the Exodus narrative and really unpacks it creatively and articulately as it relates to the way we live with God. He shows clearly, through the lens of his years of study and working with people in classroom, church, and counseling settings, how the story of Israel is so similar to our stories today. As a whole, the book is the beginning of a framework for understanding ourselves, coupled with a challenge to enter more fully and deeply into the story of our lives with God.
--We compensate [in destructive ways] for the difficulties we experience early on in life. And we find ourselves living under the power of slavery rather than entering into the life God offers” (151).
--“This ancient story teaches us that freedom is truly difficult to embrace. Living into God’s liberating story for our life comes at a price. A wilderness awaits. But the wilderness is also where our lives begin to be redefined” (75).
Particularly helpful for me (once understanding the foundation of the first half of the book) was the chapter on the Beatitudes, where Chuck really hones in on the heart that Jesus is looking for. Talking about the cost of discipleship, Chuck says, “A life of messy spirituality, in other words, does not mean the freedom to cuss, to drink, and to dance just because you weren’t allowed to when you were a kid…Brokenness strips us of everything that is false in us, including the new personas we exchange for the older, rigid ones. It manifests not necessarily in a more raw or edgy ethos, but in humility” (211).
This book is helpful to a wide variety of readers from many backgrounds, including those who do not have a relationship with Jesus. Those who come from a very conservative Reformed background may take some issue with it, as well as those who adamantly reject modern therapeutic models. But the open-minded reader, willing and hungry to understand their lives and how pain and brokenness and suffering make sense in their walk with God, should find nourishing hope and connection in Leaving Egpyt.