The Goodness of God

I've been thinking a lot this week about the goodness of God. Not as some deep, hazy, hard-to-figure-out theological concept. But as a fact. A fact that is true in my life every single day for as far back as I can remember. God has been good to me. I am the most blessed man you know (or don't know, if that be the case).

But here's the thing: Why? Why has God been so good to me? I'm certainly not deserving. Oftentimes I forget to be thankful. Yet, He is good. It's His nature. It's the character of God to be good. It's really not about me (or you) at all. That's why David the Psalmist could say with great confidence:
"Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life"




Just the latest example of
His goodness toward me -
Olivia Grace

Peace

"The devil never rejoices more than when he robs a servant of God of his peace of heart."
~ Francis of Assisi

Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.
And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, shall guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:6-7

Being Right With God

"To be right with God has often meant to be in trouble with men."
~ A.W. Tozer

Wonder and Awe

I had a visit the other day from the little boy who lives across the street. He came without any inhibitions or fear. What he did come with was an incredible sense of wonder and awe. He wanted to know what I was doing, how I was doing it, and why. He asked about everything that came into his sight line. "What's that?" "What does that do?" "How does this work?" He seemed to marvel at the simplest things. A saw hanging over my workbench. A box. A bug. But he saved the best for when we stepped inside for just a moment. With eyes wide like Christmas morning he exclaimed, "Wow! I've never seen this before!"

I think this is the child-likeness that Jesus said we must have in order to enter into the Kingdom of God. Somehow in our grown-up world we've become jaded - incapable of wonder and awe. We call it maturity and think it's a good thing. But all we've really done is to lose the innocence through which we used to see life.
To become a little child again is to recapture the surprise and wonder we once had as we viewed reality. Do you remember the excitement of catching fireflies in a jar? Now we don't even notice these incredible, luminescent creatures. Do you remember finding the coin under your pillow the day after you lost your first tooth? Or the fascination with thunder storms on hot summer afternoons? All of the wonder and awe seems to have been relegated to the past; to a childhood that was so long ago.
To be all that Christ requires for us to be, we must somehow recapture our capacity for wonder and our willingness to express it as we confront all of the realities of life. We've got to get over ourselves enough to say, "Wow! I've never seen this before!"

I'm really glad the little boy from across the street came by to visit.

My Kitchen, My Life (part 3)

Suppose that, while my kitchen is in the midst of a complete renovation, I show up univited at your house with tools and materials in hand. When you inquire as to what I'm doing I say, "I thought I'd come by and remodel your kitchen. The last time I was here I noticed that it needed some work. Your cabinets are outdated, the plumbing fixtures aren't what they ought to be, and the paint color is aweful. Just thought I'd come by and fix it for you."

Rediculous, huh? But isn't that what we do to one another? While our own lives are a virtual construction zone we spend our time and efforts trying to fix someone else's life. While the Lord is doing a great, but far from complete work in our own lives, we intrude into the lives of others bent on seeing change. When will we realize it's not our job to renovate our neighbor's kitchen? When will we decide that the same Master Builder that is working in our own kitchen can handle our friends' kitchens as well?

I'll tell you what I've decided to do. When I come by your house, I'll come as your friend, and not your contractor. Rather than look for all the things that need work in your kitchen, I'll just sit at the table and enjoy your company over a cup of coffee. I'll leave the paint, and the tile, the cabinets and the countertops to you and the Lord. He's much better at all of that than I am anyhow. And I'm sure you'll be much happier with the results.

"... first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye."

Today I'm back to sanding cabinet doors. Come on by, I'll put a fresh pot of coffee on.

My Kitchen, My Life (part 2)

Still thinking about the work of remodeling our kitchen. It really does, in so many ways parallel what the Lord is doing in my life. It's a complete home makeover.

Here's what strikes me today about such a comparison. If it's the Lord doing this great work of change in my life, what does that make me? If He's the craftsman, the master builder, what am I? And the answer that comes to me is this: I'm the totally incompetent, bumbling helper; the guy who breaks things, and drops things, and ends up in the way most of the time. The guy who is usually causing more work by his clumsiness.
If He is Michelangelo, I'm a four year old with a box of crayons. If He's Frank Lloyd Wright, I'm a kid with his first set of building blocks. I'm the Three Stooges - Curly, Larry and Moe all wrapped into one.

So often, rather than be a contributor to the wonderful work that He is doing in my life, I seem to be getting in the way of what the Lord is trying to do. As He works to create in me what He desires, I can't even seem to hold the ruler without messing it up. Yet He is a patient, loving craftsman. He continues the work in spite of me. And when I spill the paint, or drive the nail crooked, He patiently says to me, "No son, not like that. Here, let Me help."
The work goes on.

The Christian Life

"To grasp the truth of the gospel is to fall on our faces in both sorrow and gratitude. To live as Jesus lived is to move off the floor and into the world."
~ Brennan Manning, The Importance of Being Foolish