i pray you do…i hope you don’t…i know you will

You will break my heart one day. If I’m lucky.

You will say “Yes” to a boy, not knowing the unbelievably deep ramifications of that decision. All you will know is that true love will see you through (it will, by the way).

You will ravage every bridal magazine ever printed, or zapped out, or beamed in. Not sure what technology they’ll be using by then to disseminate information.

You will plan, dream, and pray about what you’ll remember as one of the most exciting days of your life.

You will send out cute invitations, calling all those who know you and love you to gather round. Your heart will leap for joy every time you get one back with the check-mark in the “We’ll be there” box.

You will don a white dress (at least, you’d better!). You will have your hair and makeup done. You will look beautiful. No more beautiful than any other day of your life. You are beautiful every day. Just different, a little.

You will gather with bridesmaids and family in a room that’s always a little too small to contain everything found within. You will giggle with glee, not believing that God has allowed you to be this happy.

You will walk down the aisle. The instruments will play “Here comes the bride.” Everyone will stand. And smile. And ooh. And aah.

At the end of that aisle, you will join hands with a young man who has pledged to lay down everything for you. And I mean everything. Don’t worry, I will have already made sure of that.

And you will break my heart.

You will force me to remember those days. All those days. Those glorious days when I was the only man you looked to. And laughed with. And read books with. And held hands with. And climbed hills with. And chased your brother with. Those days when you fit comfortably on my shoulders.

And I will think of those days we have not yet seen. The firsts. First day of school. First day behind the wheel. First broken heart. First moment of really understanding what it means to follow God.

All of these things will make me wonder how it got away so fast. Did I teach you enough? Was I the kind of example you needed to see? Will you be blessed to enjoy the kind of marriage I have been fortunate enough to have?

You will see me cry. And laugh. And smile. And probably cry some more.

It will be a glorious day.

At least that’s how I pray it works out.

i’m not sure i know God very well, but i’m learning…

When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God. -Ephesians 3:14-19

So, on one side, there’s my God. And on the other side, there’s the God my soul desperately cries for and sincerely hopes is real.

I don’t know my dad. At least not anymore. I did at one point, when I was a boy. He and I did the weekend thing. Looking back I know it wasn’t ideal, but at the time I had no idea that it wasn’t the norm. I remember riding in his red Volkswagen Bug to McDonald’s for a Happy Meal on Sunday afternoons before he took me home.

*Just curious, what possessed the Germans to think that putting the engine behind the back seat was a good idea? I just know that I have some hearing loss because of hours spent in the backseat of that catastrophe of automobile engineering.

I remember dad coming to get me on Friday afternoons. I remember him taking me for rides on his motorcycle. I remember visiting an older family member (I think it was my great aunt) with him, and eating watermelon on the front porch.

For some reason, I don’t remember exactly when he decided to stop coming. It’s funny how the mind has a way of protecting the heart. Some sort of survival mechanism, I guess.

But somewhere between his decision and now, I became a survivor. Which, if you know my roots, is no big surprise. I come by that character trait honestly.

Here’s what is great about survivors. Survivors don’t complain. Ever. Now they may gripe every now and then, but that’s more of a love language than anything else. Survivors aren’t afraid of work. They will jump into any and every task with a “can do” attitude. And they will make sure the job gets done. You don’t have to offer much criticism to survivors, because they’re harder on themselves than anyone could ever be. Survivors are reliable and dependable. Their word is their bond. I have often told myself “I won’t be that dad.” Survival mechanism. Survivors don’t run from difficult situations. And they’re not afraid to fail.

You can trust a survivor. A survivor trusts himself. Usually above all else.

Here’s what is deadly about survivors (or at least this survivor). Survivors draw hard boundaries. The message is clear. “I might let you in, but it’s only going to be on my terms.” Survivors see the world through a fixed lens, and can’t fathom the fact that others might see things differently. Survivors judge. And I don’t mean the kind of judging where we utilize biblical discernment. I mean the kind of judging that states I am not only correct, but that only a complete moron would even think about disagreeing with me.

Survivors tend to fashion all things, including God, in their own image. I know I did. And do. My God is tough and unyielding. Perhaps easy to talk to, but hard to please. I don’t think my image of Him is holding up very well, however.

Survivors always put themselves first. Always. At times it may not seem that way, but we do.

We’re the ones who say, “Love is not given, it is earned.” “Respect is not given, it is earned.” “Trust is not given, it is earned.” Probably not a biblical manner of living, but it keeps me protected. Survival mechanism.

We live out every relationship within the confines of our own expectations. Fall short, and you will suffer the consequences.

We’re better at punishing than forgiving.

All the anger, hurt, bitterness, and sadness that lives inside us colors everything we see and do. Colors the ways we relate to our families, friends, marriages, work, and play. Doesn’t it stand to reason that it would color the way we relate to God, also?

So, the question I’m wrestling with is…do I trust God?

Am I willing to let go of the anger? The hurt? The sadness?

Am I willing to forgive?

Am I willing to love people the way God seems to love them? With a wild eyed, free spirited, nothing can hold it back kind of love?

Am I willing to let my boundaries move? Am I willing to let my walls crumble?

Am I willing to risk letting go of the God I’ve made in my image? From my circumstances?

Am I willing to embrace the God who never was like that in the first place? And who screams for me to know His unfettered love?

Yes. Yes. Yes!

go ahead…jump!

It is not the years in your life, but the life in your years that counts. -Adalai Stevenson

This one is always a conversation stopper. Not in a bad way, however. More like a “hmm…just asked me a question that I haven’t been asked in a long time.” kind of thing.

Tossing this question around has been the joy of my life lately. It’s been exhilarating to watch people smile, squirm, fidget, ramble and sometimes just downright go silent. And I’ve decided to keep asking the same question to more and more people.

So, what’s the question?

What dreams are you cultivating?

This is a fun question, because dreams are God things. And when you ask people to begin thinking about dreams, they must begin to think about God. Even if they don’t know it.

God created people in His image. And with that creation comes a distinct “wiring” for each of us. Each of us has particular passions, talents, hopes, abilities, and dreams. Each of these was put there by God, so that we could put them to work. When we put them to work, we bring glory to Him, we bring joy to ourselves, and we make the world a healthier place.

If you’re not dreaming, you’re not living. At least you’re not living any kind of life you want to live.

So…what dreams are you cultivating?

What is the BIG thing that God has placed in your heart? What’s the thing that makes you think “If I don’t do this, my life will not count the way I want it to.”? If you haven’t yet thought much about that question, now is a great time to do just that.

And while you’re thinking, be prepared to be afraid. I mean good and scared. Don’t think for a minute that a life of dreaming is a life of leisure. Or ease. Or comfort. It’s not. A life of dreaming God sized dreams is harrowing, tough, challenging, frustrating, and quite simply hard.

But that’s where God lives. He loves the givers who give, even when they have no business giving anymore away. He loves the risk takers, who stumble, and fall, and get back up and try again. He loves the people who say “yes” when everything (and everyone) around them screams “no!”

And He loves those who are willing to be afraid. Those who will step so far outside themselves that their only chance of survival is for God Himself to show up. He looks at them and says “Give me your fears. I can handle them. I’m big enough.”

So, what do you want? Do you want to play it safe? Or do you want to follow God?

Go ahead…jump!