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THURSDAY THOUGHT 5/16/13

TRUST

I recently realized that I trust Susan.  It was a stunning discovery, since I’ve never trusted anyone before.  I suspect I’m not alone.  I know some people – usually the ones who appear most cool, most suave, most in control — who are most scared to let anyone else see the real, vulnerable, uncertain them.  It’s a trust thing.  If you can’t find us, you can’t use, hurt, control us.  So, we put up big, thick, high, security walls.

I also realized recently that I trust God.  (I suspect the two issues are connected.)  For  decades, I’ve believed in God, that He existed.  However, that doesn’t mean I necessarily believed Him, or even liked Him.  I was always cautious around Him, just in case I ticked Him off by mistake and got smote (smitten?). But then, somehow – I’m unsure exactly how, when or why — I began, still cautiously at first, to take a chance and open my heart.  Gradually, I began to realize that my God is actually a God of love – infinite, unconditional, life-changing love.

My point:  Just trust.  Throw away the spiritual evidence kit, open your heart, and just let God do His thing.  Your world will never be the same.  Instead, it will become wondrous.  Just trust  — jri

Experience has taught me that it is wise to be cautious with others.  (As an Arabic proverb puts it, “Trust in God, but tie the camel well.”)  However, when it comes to God, I am learning that the more I trust in His goodness and love, the more blessed my life is.  And by blessed I refer not to riches or power (been there, done that … yawn), but to joy and peace and guidance.  I don’t know of anyone who could desire more than that.

TUESDAY THOUGHT 5/14/13

RESTLESS SOUL SYNDROME

I have always had a restless desire to roam, to wander, to see new places and to seek something I could not quite name.  I marvel at how, at age 17, I left my parents’ home on Long Island to go to school in the Midwest.  I did this even though I knew almost no one west of Eastern Pennsylvania, and I could not have, with any great certainly, distinguished Indiana from Ohio from Iowa on the map. Looking back on my wanderlust, which included a playful stint on several Caribbean islands, I was never quite sure whether I was running from something or to something; all I knew for sure was that I was never satisfied where I was.

No more.  I now know I was looking for fertile soil in which to plant my heart and my soul.  That was not so much a place as a reality.  I found it in this God, one who has always loved and accepted me exactly as I am, with all my flaws, foolishness, fading hair, and widening girth … unconditionally.  Oh, and as part of that package, He gave me a woman who loves me just about the same (for who I am, not for what’s in my goody bag) and a church home filled with men and women who know why they are there on Sunday.

My point:  I have come to realize that God plants an awesome restlessness deep within  all of us.  Some of us respond by physical traveling, roaming the globe; others seek deep knowledge, achievement, or other worldly success; still others try to extinguish it by self-indulgence.  However, only one response works:  Saying “Here I am, Lord!”  Then just sit back and let God take you to some wondrous places. — jri

I still get a kick out of physical traveling.  However, what is different these days is that I have my heart’s desire with me, inside me:  the love of God and the love of Susan.  Any time and any where (I find it especially so on my many airplane flights), I can just close my eyes, say something like, “Hi, God, mind if I join You?” and enjoy the deep peace and joy of just visiting with God, of being in His presence.  Amen

MONDAY THOUGHT 5/13/13

SPIRIT NUDGE

Okay, here goes.  I’m just going to let this unfold as I experienced it … at the risk of being thought a self-delusional Jesus Freak:

There I was, minding my own business, preparing to conduct a day-long seminar in a hotel in Rochester, New York.  Over breakfast, I had noticed a high-energy, friendly waitress with a warm smile and kind word for each guest.  Leaving the restaurant, I did not give her another thought.

Back in my room, after getting dressed for my seminar, I put a small aluminum cross in my pocket.  (I often carry them, but had not given one away in several months.)  Then, without plan or even thought, I went back into the restaurant and approached the woman, who was busy with other guests.  When she turned and noticed me, I held out my closed hand and asked her to hold out her hand.  She looked concerned and uncertain at first, perhaps because I think my expression was deadpan.

When she did open her hand, I folded the cross in it and told her, “Please give this to someone who needs it.  You will know who that person is.”

Staring at the cross, she exclaimed, “I need it!” and her eyes teared up.  Then she said, “May I give you a hug?”  My eyes got wet and blurry, too, and I said, “Yes, please.”  Standing in the middle of a busy restaurant, with perhaps a dozen curious people looking on, we wrapped our arms around each other and held on in a bear-hug, full-body embrace.  When we let go, she slipped the cross into the top of her uniform and, beaming, barely whispered, “Thank you.”  Then we turned away.

After I left the restaurant, I nearly collapsed.  The experience had been so intense that I was wobbly-kneed, almost exhausted, but also settled and deeply centered.  On one hand, I felt amazingly peaceful and peace-filled; on the other, I was unnerved by the intensity, as well as haunted and delighted that I may have been involved, somehow, in a healing of some kind.

I have no idea what happened.  I did not decide to approach this woman.  I had felt compelled, not so much driven as led.  It all just unfolded.  I mumbled under my breath a few minutes later, “Lord, if this is the Spirit, please don’t do this to me too often.”

My point:  Good Lord, I have no idea.  I just know that I let myself be led, and it was a good and powerful thing. – jri

Describing this incident, I feel very uncomfortable and vulnerable to claims of delusion, spiritual arrogance, or crazed mystic.  I think of people who see the face of Jesus on a potato and claim it’s a miracle.  Still, I figured (no, not compelled again or led … or at least I don’t think so) I’d take the chance by just attempting to explain it as I experienced it.  Yes, I am a writer and a man of faith, but I don’t do visions, and I do not claim that God speaks to me.  So, the whole idea of being led by the Spirit has me simultaneously thrilled and flummoxed.  I guess I’ll just let God sort it out.  Whew!  Exhausting.

WEDNESDAY THOUGHT 5/8/13

SURPRISED BY JOY

Susan was just four when her brother, Phil, was born.  Playing a major role in raising him, she was part mother, part big sister, part protector, and very much a close, loving, best friend.  She knew him longer and better than anyone else, and their bonds ran deep into the soul of each, surviving even nearly 20 years of alienation, during which time Phil took a long, bad turn into a life of self-absorbed self-destruction.

So, after decades of drug addiction, when Phil found the Lord, Who literally transformed his morose, heavy-hearted frown into a perpetual, light-hearted smile of pure joy, Susan took in her brother and was prepared to protect and care for him once again.  However, things didn’t work out as she had expected.

This new Phil – filled to the overflowing brim  with overwhelming joy and the Spirit – could not help but cajole, nag, nudge, push, prod, and guide his sister – who at the beginning was a perfunctory believer, with a soul as dry as dust – toward faith and trust in the Lord.  As a result of God’s unseen hand working through Phil, anyone who knows Susan today knows of her deep, gentle, and profoundly joyful faith and spirit  She thought it would be her role to big-sister Phil and rescue him; instead, Phil was the instrument through which Susan’s life was transformed from dark sadness into brilliant joy.

My point:  We don’t have a clue how God works.  He has plans for us that we cannot anticipate … and should not bother trying.  All we can and should do is trust and hang on for the ride of our lives.   We will always be amazed and never be disappointed … if we just trust God.  – jri

Susan was also there when Phil died of an aneurism just three years after his transformation (during which time he transformed many other lives, as well).  She still misses him. However, that was exactly the time when God brought me back to Susan after more than 40 years.  Anticipating God’s plans (always a dumb move), I and many others saw me as her rescuer.  Wrong again.  God gave Susan to me and me to Susan.  Her gentle love and faith helped transform my life, bringing me to a deeper, richer, amazingly awesome (though always a tad wobbly) faith.

Today, unlike ever before in my life, I am joyful, at peace, no longer restless and no longer seeking that something to fill the dark, empty hole in my soul.  It is a life I never anticipated.  And though I never got to meet the transformed Phil (I last saw him when he was a boy of 12), Susan and I suspect He is playfully dancing in heaven, still grinning from ear to ear, and reveling in our joy.  What an awesome God we have.  Awesome.  So, I no longer try to anticipate Him or even tell Him what I think He should do.  I just enjoy Him.  Awesome.

P.S.  I use the word “joy” repeatedly in my rambling above.  It is not by accident.  It is the word Susan and I often use these days to describe the grace and blessings God has showered upon us.  Oh, and the term “Surprised by Joy” is not my phrase, but the title of a book by C.S. Lewis, writing about his unexpected conversion to faith.

WEDNESDAY THOUGHT 4/24/13

PRAYERS WITHOUT WORDS

When Susan and I work in the yard, a quiet silence sometimes settles over us.  She may be weeding or tending to her tomatoes or flowers; I may be mowing or wrestling a deep-set fencepost out of the ground.  Though gently aware of each other’s presence, we may not speak for hours, even when I show up at the house, covered in dirt, and she, seeing me coming, steps up with a cold drink.  There is a warmth and joy to this working silently and enjoying each other’s presence.  No words are necessary.

There are times when my prayers are the same way.  Often, I chat with God, verbally expressing gratitude and offering petitions for us and others.  But then there are times when God and I just travel together through a day.  I do not talk, do not pester, petition, plead or even praise.  I just enjoy His company, and I hope He enjoys mine.

My point:  I am not sure, except that, perhaps, the words we use to pray are less important than the openness of our hearts.  So, invite God in.  Then just trust and enjoy the company of His immense, life-changing love.  – jri

There are times (I find it especially so on my many airplane flights) when I can just close my eyes, say something like, “Hi, God, mind if I join You?” and enjoy the deep peace and joy of just visiting with God, of being in His presence.  Those are the best prayers, prayers without words.  Amen.

MONDAY THOUGHT 4/22/13

HO HUM MIRACLES

Imagine a dry, dusty, seemingly barren field that in a few weeks will become lush with flowers to bring joy to the eye and crops to feed the body.  Ho hum.  Yes, scientifically, we understand how a little soil, a few seeds and some warm sunlight bring this about.  However, if we think that’s all there is, we’re missing the hand of God in His miracles … the true “how” behind the how.

Now imagine a dry-as-dust, seemingly barren life, living in the nothingness of what Peggy Lee described in her song, “Is That All There Is?”  and then transformed into a life of purpose, passion, peace and joy.  Ho hum?  Yes, scientifically, we can make up psycho-theories to explain it all.  However, to do so ignores, overlooks, is blind to that one explanation:  the transforming hand of God.

My point:  God!  He changes the darkness of night into the brightness of day, the winter cold into the summer warmth, barren fields into truckloads of harvested corn and other crops.  Best of all, He transforms beaten down souls into men and women of joy, struggling prisoners of addiction and sin and self-seeking attitudes into free, innocent, reborn children of faith and hope.  Ho hum.  – jri

In my life today, I know the transforming power of a God who turns struggle into peace, worry into calm, dry emptiness into overflowing spiritual life, and self-absorbed egoism into putting others first.  God has blessed me with a life transformed, not by my own striving (will power does not do it), but by God’s Grace: undeserved and unearned blessings.  All I have had to do is say, “Here I am, Lord,” and He has gently led me, guided me, and turned the dry desert of my soul into a life of bounty and wonder.  You can have it, too.  Just ask.  Just surrender to the freedom of the Lord’s blessing.  Ho hum?  Ho hum, my foot!

WEDNESDAY THOUGHT 4/17/13

STRENGTH TO SURRENDER

I have always been ferociously independent.  I once wrote, “I want to be my own author, not someone is someone else’s book.”  It’s a family trait.  We have little tolerance for foppish fools, don’t try to tell others what to do … and make it one hundred percent clear that we’d appreciate it if others give us the same courtesy.

So, it should be no surprise that God and I, from time to time, would go toe to toe, nose to nose.  I was not about to bow down to some demanding, terrifying, fire-breathing deity.  What did come as a surprise – and this took me a while to realize —  is that God never was going to interfere in my self-absorbed egoism.  I’d give God a piece of my mind, tell Him where He needed to work to bring up His score (Yes, I do get the irony today.), and make it clear exactly what I was and was not going to do.  God’s response?  He pretty much said, “Okay.  Oh, and I’ll be here if you need me.”  I gradually began to realize that He never would force me.  He invited me, and He kept the invitation open, until I was ready.

My point:  I did not surrender to God out of weakness or pain or need.  No, I finally chose to bow my head and bend my knee in total commitment to a God I had grown to respect, admire, and love.  God gave me the strength to surrender, and I had the good sense – finally – to accept the offer.  – jri

When I was just beginning to figure out that God was/is the essence of gentle, loving power, goodness, and unconditional love, I felt like a nervous wolf being offered a morsel of food from a stranger’s hand.  I paced and fretted, turned away, and turned back again.  Finally – and I wrote of it by saying, “You didn’t tame me; I let you pet me!” – I knew I not only was going to say, “Yes!” but I wanted to say “Yes!”  Can I still claim I did it my way?  I guess it doesn’t matter.  The decision to surrender has brought me amazing, wondrous joy and – I love this part – amazing freedom!  Awesome God!  My God!

FRIDAY THOUGHT 4/12/13

OUR IMMUNE SYSTEMS

Though no extremist (ah, for a good pizza now and then), I do avoid putting junk into my body these days:  less red meat, fewer processed foods, and a daily dose of vitamins, fish oil and something that looks and smells like pressed seaweed.  Plus, Susan and I walk and work out at the gym several times a week.  The goal is to keep up the immune system, maintain good physical health, and enjoy a pain-free quality of life.

I think, spiritually, we do the same thing.  Susan and I enjoy reading the Bible and praying together each morning (always giving thanks … always), associating with like-minded men and women of faith (imagine a faith community with men and women who automatically bow their heads and give thanks for their food … even in public), and getting to go (not having to go) to a church each Sunday that recharges the soul and strengthens the spirit.

My point:  Just as our bodies grow/stay strong when we put in good stuff and avoid the junk (skipping the double-dose of donut sugar in the morning and double shot of whiskey at night), we can and should build up our spiritual immune systems by pouring good stuff into our hearts, minds and souls by reading God’s word, praying, dedicating our lives to serving others (heart to God, hand to man), and seeking out other believers.  That is how we fight temptation and maintain spiritual strength and balance. — jri

I think the above is also about joy and hope.  When I eat right, get out and break a sweat a few times a week, and stay away from the booze, my body feels good, strong, energetic; plus, my spirit feels joyful rather than depressed or dark.  It’s the same with attending to my spiritual needs … but one is temporary, the other eternal.  Take care of your soul.  It’s the only one you have.  God bless.

THURSDAY, APRIL 4, 2013

SECURITY

Life is painful, challenging, hard.  In addition to physical suffering wrought by disease and injuries, there are stress, worry, loneliness, and uncertainty.  Many of us spend way too much of our lives in search of security by self-medicating, sometimes with drugs, sex, and alcohol, but also with stuff (seeking security from uncertainty with money in the bank), control, orderliness, and membership (from Starbucks to religion … yes, even religion, if the purpose in our belonging is just to feel good and safe).  The result?  It does not work.  It is an illusion and a delusion.

True security comes from one place: the knowing beyond knowledge that there is a God and that He knows us, loves us, and, if we let Him, will guide us through the Holy Spirit.

My point:  It is faith and faith alone that gives us not just peace, but also purpose.  Seek it.  – jri

Just look at that list above from St. Paul.  Before I figured out that Jesus is the answer, that “There is no other Rock – not one!” (Isaiah 44:8), I was batting zero … and working pretty hard, too.  Today, no, my life is not perfect, but I am blessed with all the above – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  So, then again, maybe it is perfect.  I know who I am, where I am, and where I am going.  Now, that’s security!  The best part:  These gifts are there for the asking, for anyone.  Just ask … and then be still, and be patient, and let the Lord guide you.  Or as some folks say: “Let go and let God.”  Awesome!

WEDNESDAY THOUGHT 4/3/13

THE ONLY EXPLANATION

This story does not add up.  Here is the core element of what we know:  This Jewish man, a prophet perhaps, wanders around a backwater outpost of the Roman empire preaching a peculiar message about loving one another and trusting in God.  Most of all, He says “Follow me” … and people do.

Boy, do they follow Him.  Even/especially after His death, the members of His ragtag band of followers (not a truly exceptional one in the bunch) give up everything and travel the known world (from India to Rome and beyond) to preach His message.  They refuse to shut up.  And what do they get for it?  They get beaten, mocked, and eventually murdered.  Of the remaining eleven disciples, all except John, are killed for what they have to say.  Why?  I have people and “isms” I admire.  But I sure wouldn’t die for them.  Would you?  What happened back there in Galilee two thousand years ago?  And why is it still going strong?

My point:  There really is only one explanation:  This story – all of it, but especially the part about Jesus’ dying and rising from the dead – has to be true.  These men and women who followed Jesus saw something and experienced something that simply cannot be ignored (though many try) or written off.  It must be true.  It is the only explanation.  The Lord is risen! — jri

One of the things I find marvelous about the Bible is its honesty.  Take the gospels, for example:  We get three versions of the same story, each being slightly different, yet fundamentally the same.  There has been no attempt to edit, polish and straighten out the discrepancies.  As in all true eyewitness accounts of events, there are discrepancies.  Yet all the pieces add up to something wondrous and awe-inspiring.  This story has the aura of truth written all over it.  I can find no other explanation than that it is real.  Just trust.  Just believe.  Amen.

WEDNESDAY THOUGHT 3/27/13

UNBELIEVABLE

I believe in science, logic, mathematics, cause-and-effect, reasonable theories, the laws of nature, and duplicable experiments (though I do prefer the word “duplicatable,” thank you).

I also believe that logic is flawed:  If we overuse something, it wears out; ergo, exercise should shorten our life, not extend it; if an out-of-control fire destroys everything in its path, the result should be horrendous ; ergo, the 1988 series of fires that consumed nearly 800,000 acres of Yellowstone National Park should not have led to an unprecedented riot of new growth and new life in the park (and Chicago and San Francisco should be wastelands, too, having one been flattened by fire); if we surrender ourselves and submit to another’s will, we should be slaves; ergo, the millions of joyous men and women of Christian faith simply should not be.

My point:  Logic and science are very nice.  After all, they are part of God’s plan.  But logic is not all-encompassing; and too much logic will give you a headache.  That’s why, at a certain point, people like us, along with — not in spite of — our logic and science, have learned to … just … believe.  It makes perfect sense. — jri

That’s what I love about the whole non-logical (not illogical) Bible:  It is not a neat little story that lays everything out perfectly.  From the marketing point of view, it needs work.  It leaves room for way too much doubt.  It says weird things like:  In weakness we are made strong; in surrender we are set free; in dying, we are born again.  For those who are seeking, stop working so hard; just be still and let the Lord find you in the quiet.  Amen.

TUESDAY THOUGHT 3/26/13

SHALLOW

Cool is a cover.  When I bought my first sports car (okay, and my second one, too), it made me feel cool.  Yes, it had great lines; yes, it handled beautifully; yes, the wind-blown top down felt exhilarating.  But I marvel today at how it made me feeeel: somehow special, superior, in control, successful, sexy … cool.  All this from a stupid piece of machinery!  It was one manifestation of an addiction that I  — help me out; I’m not alone, am I? –  fed with boats, big houses, exotic travel, neat stuff.  Talk about shallow!

Today, those things don’t interest me, thank God.  I don’t have to impress anyone, not even myself.  No, I didn’t get smarter or better or richer.  (And, no, I didn’t just give up or settle for a sad, it-is-what-it-is attitude of numb mediocrity.)  I discovered that I am loved and accepted – unconditionally — just the way I am, even though I am grossly imperfect and highly flawed.

My point:  It is all about a fantastic relationship with a God who – only God knows why — loves me, changed me, showed me that I don’t need stuff or applause to give me worth and value.  This is Holy Week, and on Friday, we celebrate how Jesus redeemed us totally and unconditionally … not because we’re perfect; not because we’re better than anybody else; not even because we’re good.  He did it because He loves us.  That’s all we need.  That’s what counts.  And that’s cool.  – jri

I think one of the reasons I was always going, doing, acquiring, conquering was to fend off the fear of bumping into something unknown and unseen, something dark and scary:  Myself!  These days, I realize, one of the greatest gifts God has given me is peace … the ability to just be comfortable with me.  God replaces cool with calm; He replaces worthless stuff with spiritual substance; and He replaces questions about the future with rock-solid, joyful certainty.

MONDAY THOUGHT 3/18/13

WALKING THE WALK

I was awestruck at church this past Sunday.  A week earlier, Pastor Jeff Coleman, organizing a youth mission trip to Haiti next month, pointed out that few children had shoes in that sad country.  (Many people wear flattened soda/water bottles as shoes.)  So, he asked people to bring pairs of shoes and leave them on the platform steps at the front of the Church as they received Communion this week.  I had expected to see a dozen or so pairs of shoes.  (Nice do-gooder gesture.  Yawn.)  After all, this is not some traffic-stopping mega cathedral, just a fairly modest steel building outside of Gainesville, Georgia.

However, upon leaving the first service, I was surprised to see row upon row of shoes on the steps.  We learned later than more than 300 pairs had been donated.  What kind of people are these? I thought, and pondered that question most of the day.  I also kept thinking about the imperfect analogy of Christ dividing the loaves and fishes and feeding the five thousand.  Three hundred pairs of shoes! Three hundred people who would not have to wear crushed water bottles for shoes.

My point:  I have found – and continue to discover – that this Church, with the less-than-inspiring name of The Highlands, located on the outskirts of Gainesville, Georgia, is a wondrous, spirit-filled faith community, the likes of which I have never imagined, let alone encountered.  Even so, I know there are many like it, filled with people of faith and the Spirit, men and women and teens who step up, who don’t just talk the talk, but who also walk the awesome walk of faith.  Wow! — jri

 I did not write this as a request for money … or shoes.  But what the heck?  If you’d like to help out with the youth mission trip to Haiti, feel free to send a donation to The Highlands at 3678 Cleveland Highway, Gainesville, GA 30506.  (BTW, if you want to see what 300 pairs of shoes look like, click here.)

TUESDAY THOUGHT 3/12/13

SELF-LOATHING

Years ago, on a brutally bitter winter morning, I encountered a beautiful young woman begging on the street in rush hour Minneapolis.  A clear, sunny day, the temperature must have been near zero.  She had the beauty of an angel, except for one thing: Her eyes were vacant, empty of hope, dead.  Drugs?  Brutally exploitive relationships?  I had no idea.  I gave her five dollars, told her to go home, and have thought about her often over the last 20 or so years.

Though I am no expert on human relations and motivations, I do know that many/most/all of us are drawn to things that are destructive, that enthrall and then entrap us, and that can lead to our own versions of morning-after self-loathing, emptiness, and hopelessness.  Some of us wallow in it, are consumed by it.  Others (and I gratefully count myself here … finally) have opened their arms and hearts to the unconditional, total – time and again and again and again — loving forgiveness of a God filled with gentleness.

My point:  It has been my experience – in myself and seen in others —  that God can heal.  He can take away the emptiness, the pain and the secret shame of self-loathing, and replace it with a gentle, tender forgiveness, love, and peace beyond human understanding.  He can.  All we have to do is say, “Yes!”  – jri

That girl must have been, at most, 20 years old when I saw her and spent, at most, one minute talking with her.  Hopefully, I imagine her today surrounded by a loving family and faith community, smiling and singing of the triumphant joy of God’s love and forgiveness … perhaps a husband and her own daughter, gently loved and protected, by her side.  Love one another.  Forgive one another.  Be gentle with each other … just as God loves, forgives and is gentle with us.  Amen

FRIDAY THOUGHT 3/8/13

BLOOD

I met Livia, my cousin’s three-year-old daughter, while I was traveling through Maine last month.  The bond — the deep, rich bond of blood — was instant, as she shared, non-stop, every thought that ran excitedly through her head.  I spent a pleasant evening with Livia, as well as catching up with her father.  (Mike and I picked up as if it had been days, rather than decades, since we last talked.)  That’s how it is with blood.  The bond is almost primal, and there are few greater joys than the comfortable sharing with family.

Unfortunately, coupled to that incredible joy is the terrible risk and pain of estrangement, when family members, often without truly good reason, simply turn away from each other, shredding hearts.  Like most people, I’ve seen it over and over again: children shunning their parents; parents (and in-laws) provoking family members; brothers and sisters arbitrarily alienating each other.  It happens way too often.

My point:  Blood means life, and blood ties are powerful.  I have found that the bond of blood, like it or not, is unbreakable, permanent, even though we can deny and pretend otherwise.  (For years, I did not like my Father, who was a hard man to love.  Yet on the day he died, due to a lot of work on my part, his final words to me were, “Don’t forget that I love you.”)  If you have broken blood ties, seek out that person.  Try.  Reach out.  Then just leave it in the Lord’s hands.  (Remember, Jesus is our family, our blood, and He shed His blood for us.)  You may get your heart stomped on … but you may also succeed.  Good luck and God bless. – jri

Sadly, I know too well of estrangement.  In my family, there seems to be some kind of weird tradition whereby family members periodically take offense (sometimes with good reason, more often not) and stop talking for years at a time.  Several years ago, the previous time my son turned away from me (and today I’m on his shun list yet again), I defensively mentioned to a friend, “He’ll come back when he’s ready.”  The friend replied,  “And when you’re ready, too.”  So, open your hearts – and offer up your prayers of petition — for estranged family members.  They will eventually return.  In the meantime, please keep me and my estranged children in your prayers.  God bless, and thank you.

TUESDAY THOUGHT 3/5/13

GOD’S CHILDREN

I love seeing teens who can smile (no sulky moodiness); who can look you in the eye (not stare dully at their feet) when you talk to them; who can say “yes, sir” in a clear, confident voice when addressed (no vague shrugs and “I dunno” grunts); and who can raise their voices, their hearts, and their arms in praise to a loving, joyous Lord.  I love seeing children who believe in something!  That is what I saw several weekends ago, when a youth group at our church was raising funds for a mission trip to Haiti.  These bright-eyes young men and women fill me with hope for the future.

Just as important, I praise their parents, who made a commitment to give their children the best starts in life: much better than rationed out “quality time,” an Ivy League college fund, or a vacation trip to party in Aruba.  They are giving their children values, roots and wings, something to believe in and trust in.  They are giving their children knowledge about and faith in a joyous, loving, just God.

My point:  Children do not grow up to be good people by themselves or by accident.  It takes imperfect parents trying (and sometimes struggling) to lead by example, and to lead by standing right beside their teens in church, singing and praying and loving God.  – jri

Let me add that I do not claim to be a perfect parent.  Yes, I did raise my three children with a solid balance of love and discipline.  I stressed leading a principle-based life.  Unfortunately, though I tended to be a church goer during those child-rearing years, I was not a devout Christian back then.    As a result, I bear a touch of guilt that my children today are tepid, perfunctory Christians at best.  Maybe the seed will sprout in the future.

Too late I learned that raising children in faith is not an option; it is absolutely crucial.  To paraphrase William Bennett (and I recite from memory, since I heard Mr. Bennett say this more than 20 years ago):  If you think religion does not count, imagine walking down a dark, empty city street late at night, and up ahead you see a group of teenagers turn a corner and head your way.  Would it make a difference if you knew they had just come from Bible study?  So, don’t tell me that religion doesn’t matter.

THURSDAY THOUGHT 2/21/13

COOL

When I was a kid, I wanted to be like Steve McQueen.  Born in 1930, he was always cool, calm, and in control (his nickname was “The King of Cool”).  He started out in the 1958 TV series, Wanted:  Dead or Alive.  He then went on to play super-cool lead roles in such movies as Bullitt, Papillon, and The Magnificent Seven.  Many of us remember him most, however, for his role as the motorcycle riding, barbed wire jumping “Cooler King” in The Great Escape.  He was invincible.

      That was why I was stunned to see a final photo of McQueen, shriveled up and frail, in desperate search of a miracle cure for the cancer that was eating him alive.  He never found it.  He died at age 50 in Mexico in 1980.

My point:  Our strength fails; God’s doesn’t.  No matter how determined, smart, or disciplined, no one gets out of this life alive.  Even the coolest and toughest among us eventually embark on a relentless, downward slide (over decades for some, a few short months for others), a decline of physical and mental skills.  For believers, it is nice to know that that slide has a joyful conclusion, ending in the arms of Jesus. — jri

I was once a control freak.  Today I see the cockiness of control as foolishness.  Oh, we can decide which mud puddle in which to splash around, and we can even influence how much stuff with which we surround ourselves during our few short years.  But these things, I have grown to understand, simply … do … not … matter.  The things that are important are in God’s hands.  For me, I have found that there is only one thing in my hands: whether to say “Yes, Lord!” … or “No!”  And I’ve made my choice.

TUESDAY THOUGHT 2/19/13

AMNESTY

Like many parents, I provided an Amnesty Clause for my children.  If they were in a bad or dangerous situation of their own creation, they could call up, say “Amnesty,” and I would go rescue them — no interrogations, no repercussions.  They saw it as a get-out-of-jail-free card (and, to their credit, they did not abuse it).  It was really a safety clause, to protect them from their own youthful choices.  Because of my unconditional love, I was glad to get them out of danger and back to the safety of our home.

God also provides us with an Amnesty Clause – same deal, same motive.  Just better.

My point:  No matter how badly we screw up our lives, no matter how totally filled with self-hatred we become and beyond forgiveness we go, all we have to do is ask God for forgiveness.  And it is done.  That’s it.  Amnesty.  Total forgiveness; no questions asked.  – jri

When I was a Roman Catholic kid, I loved the idea of Saturday Confession:  Go into the dark booth, kneel down, confess my sins to a priest I could not see, do a little token penance (a few Our Father’s and one or two Hail Mary’s would usually do it), and then I could start fresh.  What a deal!  I do not do formal Confession anymore.  I just talk to God directly, remind Him that I screwed up again (as if He doesn’t know), and ask for amnesty … again.  And I am forgiven.  This forgiveness is simple and total.  In a world filled with anger, senseless hatred, and so many people who stubbornly refuse to forgive the slightest wrong, I realize how wondrous this gift of total forgiveness truly is.  All we have to do is ask, and (as long as we’re not trying to play God), we are forgiven.  We are innocent. We are righteous.  We are free.  Immediately.  Always.  Totally.

MONDAY THOUGHT 2/18/13

TRUST

I marvel when I hear stories about trust betrayed.   I marvel not because these tales are so rare, but because they are so common … and so senseless.  I marvel at spouses who reverse gear from best friend to deadly enemy; at children who discard their parents when the “gimme truck” doesn’t show up on schedule; at friends who toss aside friendship at the first misunderstanding.  I guess that is why so many people learn to hold back and to keep their hearts carefully tucked away and out of harm’s way.  I even know people who torpedo potentially rewarding relationships because it is easier to fall on their own swords rather than risk being stabbed by others … again.

So, it’s no wonder many of us find it so, so hard to trust God.  We show up with a Christmas list of things we need, or at least want.  (“Oh, Lord, heal me.  I cannot stand much more.”)  And all we seem to get is silence.  (“Hello, God, you there?  Hello?  Hmmmph.”)  And so we sigh, disappointed again.

Don’t be discouraged.  One of the things I’ve learned over the years is that God plays by different rules … and they are much, much better rules.  Example:  Why heal the body, which is nothing more than a temporary compartment we inhabit for a few decades at most?  Instead, “Lord, thank you for healing my soul, from which true health and joy emerge.”  Get it?

My point:  I have a hard time trusting God.  I have been disappointed as often as many.  However, God does play by different rules.  I have found that when I trust – just trust – He guides me through tough times, helps me understand the things I truly need, not just want, and is one hundred percent trustworthy.  – jri

I am learning that I do not have a clue what I truly want or what is truly my heart’s desire.  So, I find myself more often these days praying for God’s transforming grace rather than for a specific act or miracle.  For a sick friend or errant child, for example, I tend to simply pray for them:  “Lord, bless this person with your grace and give him or her the gift of faith and strength.”  And, yes, I am still working on that trust stuff, myself.  However, I am learning that when something does not go my way, I find it better to ask for God to guide me rather than to complain that He didn’t give me what I was expecting … or demanding.

John Ingrisano

4279 Hunter Road

Gainesville, GA 30506

www.dailyconnections.net

February 18, 2013

THURSDAY THOUGHT 2/7/13

EVERYTHING

I peered briefly into a deep, dark pit yesterday.  It was just a glimpse, and my soul groaned … just for a moment.  The cause:  I realized that I had everything.  Everything: strong faith, good health, freedom from financial want, the deep and honest love of a spirit-filled woman, friends and family who cared, a loving faith community, laughter, joy … well, as I said: Everything.  (And just for the record, even though I have two children who currently are boycotting me, I am able to trust that God is on it, and He will resolve this painful rift in His own sweet time.)

The terrifying part:  It was like looking into that lifelong in-box … and finding it empty, leaving me with nothing to do … at least momentarily.  You see, I’ve always been a sword-wielding warrior, a fighter.  Take away the challenge, and who am I?  As I stepped back from the imaginary abyss, I realized that I did not need to suffer and struggle, but just sit back, be still, and let the Lord guide and show me.  In a life in which most of us worry all the time, I found that there was no angst needed.

My point:  Sorry if it seems so vague, but I barely understand it myself.  I guess it is that we do not need to worry and struggle and fight for what God has in store for us (and, yes, that includes food in the pantry and our health).  He shows us the way, and there is absolutely no need to worry or fret.  None.  He gives us what we need.  He gives us everything. – jri

(By the way, Kevin, thank you for sending me the accurate C.S Lewis quote.)  Adding to my rambling above, I guess my biggest challenge is accepting the peaceful joy that surrounds my soul these days.  No, I don’t deserve it.  No, I did nothing, truly, to earn it.  And like being a good guest at a friend’s house, I keep wanting to jump up and help out, to do something.  For the moment, I guess I’ll just marvel at and enjoy the awesome “everything” God has given me.  And someday, when that everything includes illness and other supposed loss, may I marvel out, be grateful for, and thank God for that, as well.  Awesome!

TUESDAY THOUGHT 2/5/13

A BORROWED SUIT

My father was buried in a borrowed suit.  An Italian immigrant’s son, born in Brooklyn, New York, in 1912, he went through college and medical school during the Great Depression.  He worked hard his whole life, and my Mother, Brother and I lacked for nothing.  Still, Pop lived his final years in a retirement home, and when he died, we ended up borrowing a suit for his wake.

That’s not all that odd, the more I think about it.  As visitors passing a few short decades on this earth, isn’t everything we have borrowed?  God created it, and we get to pretend we “own” it for a while.  So, why do we make such a big fuss about hoarding as much as we can while we are here?

My point:  Though I didn’t always feel this way, I have come to realize that piling up a ton of stuff seems like a pretty silly way to spend our lives.  We pull it all close, wrap our arms around it, guard it, define ourselves by how much of it we have, and warn others, “Mine.  Mine.  Mine.”  A better way perhaps:  Yes, work and provide for our loved ones, but then also share with others.  After all, it’s not really ours; God is just lending it to us.

My family has never really been big on trappings and stuff.  At one point I became borderline rich, pretty much by accident, mostly because I liked to work hard.  The funny thing is that, during that time, I found myself starting to define myself by the cars, boats and homes.  Today, I realize how little those things mean.  To paraphrase C.S. Lewis (I think it was Lewis, but I cannot locate the exact quote):  He who has the whole world and God has no more than he who has God alone.

MONDAY THOUGHT2/4/13

JUST THE WAY YOU ARE

It was borderline scary, our decision last year, when my Susan and I decided that we needed to meet face to face again after 42 years apart.  I in Wisconsin and she in Georgia, we had talked by phone, yes, but our memories were of 20-year-olds, not old fogies in their early 60s.  (“You know, John, I’m not the same five-foot tall, 97-pound little blonde girl you remember,” she told me cautiously.  “Wow!” I answered.  “You mean you got taller!”)

It was the right decision.  We agreed not to try to lose those extra pounds we had let creep on over time.  We met in wrinkly acceptance, without the need to prove or hide behind pretense or facade.  And, yes, we accepted each other just the way we were.

It’s that way with God.  Jesus didn’t say we needed to be good, to do everything right, to be perfect.  He said all we had to do was accept His offer.  Just believe.

My point:  I think this is the hardest thing for many people to get right:  Now, I’m not a trained theologian, but I know that God loves and accepts us just the way we are, yes, even when we sin big time.  No matter what we did in the past, it is forgiven.  As for what we will do to screw it up in the future, that too is already forgiven.  So, go enjoy the day, just the way you are.  We are loved.  We are accepted.  – jri

I’ve heard people over the years declare that they are beyond forgiveness.  That’s bull!  Half the time, they’re bragging about how bad they are; the other half, they’re using that line as an excuse for being spiritually lazy.  One of the things I’ve learned over the years is that no one – no one — is beyond forgiveness.  In fact, I’ve found that the biggest sinners seem to make the best saints.  (Susan’s late brother, Phil, is a good example of that: going from years as screw-the-world crook and druggie to inspired and inspiring man of faith, who transformed lives.)  Again, God loves us just the way we are.  Got it?  Accept Him, just believe.  And we don’t need to worry about changing.  He’ll do it for us.  Amen.

John Ingrisano

4279 Hunter Road

Gainesville, GA 30506

www.dailyconnections.net

February 4, 2013

TUESDAY THOUGHT 1/29/13

WHAT ABOUT …?

What about God?  That was my question as an honest, youthful seeker.  I used every experience as a litmus test of proof (or not) of a God.  That was step one.  After all, there had to be a God before I could believe in Him.

What about me?  That was my question as I began to believe in God, but saw Him as a bigger-than-life candy vending machine.  Make my life good, Lord.  Give me my heart’s desire … now.  Me.  Me.  Me.

What about you?  This is my question these days, as I wonder what God wants of me, going from wanting to accept God’s will to wanting to seek God’s will to wanting to embrace God’s will to wanting to do God’s will.

My point?  I haven’t a clue, except that I have found that this faith journey is quite an adventure, full of thrills and spills, fun and pain, sunny days and cloudy ones.  And I keep coming back to two words that almost haunt me:  Just trust. — jri

I joined the Methodist Church last Sunday.  Actually, I didn’t so much join anything as I simply said yes to a spiritual invitation that, though never spoken, has grown louder and louder in the last few months, beyond ignoring.  So, I became part of a vibrant, loving family of men and women who believe, and who wear their faith openly.  (And, no, they don’t walk around with sappy smiles on their faces and hands steeple-folded, though they do sing and clap a lot.)  A bit of a nomad, I used to joke that home is where you hang your hat.  Now I know it is where you hang your heart.  Nice.

THURSDAY THOUGHT 1/24/13

THE GOLD STANDARD

I have never worshiped gold and wealth.  However, like many people, I got awfully distracted by it.  While pretending not to care, I grew very fond of the houses, the boats, the supposed “financial security” of money in the bank, and of the imagined prestige it all brought.  Somehow, it all made me think I was smart and good.

Worst of all, I spent more time devoted to growing and tending to my wealth than I did to people, though I told myself I was sacrificing and laboring ferociously for the benefit of those I loved.  (That was bull!  They’d probably have loved me twice as much with half the wealth.)

My point:  While money in and of itself is not evil (it’s the love of money that gets us in trouble), gold is cold.  It will never love us.  Jesus did not say, “Make a fortune,” but, “Love your neighbor.”  We only have a few short years on this earth.  I have come to believe that we should use them not just wisely, but lovingly.  So, we should love God and serve people. – jri

I am no longer borderline wealthy, at least with material goods.  No, as I have said often, these days I have “enough.“  I have lost the heart to devote myself to acquisition.  Yes, there are times when I worry about money, especially in these economically challenging times.  My true wealth, however, comes from being blessed as a member of a Christ-following community of loving men and women, and from being able to help others in my very small way as we all travel the journey of our short lives.  Most of all, I have the gift of faith, wobbly and weak as it may be, but a joyous blessing in and of itself.  So, I guess you could say that I’m wealthy beyond compare.

WEDNESDAY THOUGHT 1/23/13

LIGHT

Susan and I, brought back together after 42 years apart, sometimes marvel at that miracle and how God made us ready (though it took Him four decades to get me sort of right).  Looking back, we realize that, back in our youth, we lived in darkness.  No, we were far from evil (personally, I think we were downright delightful), but we were not children of God.  Church?  Let’s see, we showed up for a wedding or two, and that was about it.  Acknowledging God?  The only times we would have mentioned God’s name were after someone sneezed or a hammer hit a thumb.  The Bible?  A bit dusty, it sat on my parents’ coffee table.

Somehow, God found us and we found our way to God and back to each other.  In 2012, after 42 years, Susan and I re-met as people of faith.  At first, in the evenings, on the phone a thousand miles apart (I in Wisconsin, she in Georgia) we would pray and read together … a first for both of us.  These days, we devote the first half hour or so of each day to reading the Bible and a devotional, giving thanks, offering up our day, and praying for a growing list of those in need.  We support and strengthen each other.  Nice.

My point:  I have come to believe that, for most of us, our faith journeys can be long, sometimes very, very long.  However, God has a plan for us.  If we let Him, even if it takes 42 years or longer, He will bring us out of the darkness and into His loving, fulfilling light.  It’s a sure thing.  – jri

God and I still wrestle about theology now and then, and I am a notorious whiner when things do not go my way.  However, I have come to a wondrous realization over the years:  I like God.  And though I find the Father, Abba, a bit forbidding and foreboding at times, I really like the company of Jesus, the Son.  I am proud (in a humble, Christian way, of course) to say that Jesus is my Friend, my Brother, my Savior, and my Lord.  I guess that’s what people mean about the idea of having a “personal relationship” with Jesus.  Whatever it’s called, it is wondrous!