A Startlingly Accurate Depiction of My Life

"If I'd had a stellar week, I loved being in God's presence and was sure God was pretty stoked about having me there too.

But the opposite was true.

If I hadn't done a good job at being a real Christian, I felt pretty distant from God. If I'd fallen to some temptations, been a jerk to my wife, dodged some easy opportunities to share Christ, was stingy with my money, forgotten to recycle, kicked the dog, etc. ... well, on those weeks I felt like God  wanted nothing to do with me. When I came to church, I had no desire to lift my soul up to God. I was pretty sure  He didn't want to see me either. I could feel His displeasure - His lack of approval.

That's because I didn't really understand the gospel. Or, at least I had forgotten it."

-Quote from J.D. Greear's book Gospel: Recovering the Power that Made Christianity Revolutionary, Chapter 3 "The Gospel as Gift-Righteousness"

On Living In a Small Town

I just heard the helicopter fly overhead. That only means one thing. We live one street over from the hospital, and someone is being life-flighted to a bigger hospital in a nearby city. That's the only reason helicopters fly into this small town. I feel almost a responsibility to engage with the suffering that someone is experiencing right now. So I pray, "God, help them."

It's interesting -- living in a small town -- where you can't go much of anywhere without seeing someone you know. One of the things I have liked least about this place is the way people seem so preoccupied with everyone else's business. It drove me crazy at first. Now, I fear, I've started to fit in a little too much.

But, as much as I despise this small town lifestyle of gossip, and the culture that it encourages --- a culture where you always have to be on your toes; a culture where you know someone is always looking and listening and waiting for you to fall; a culture where we are so obsessed with other people's lives that we won't be honest about our own --- I'm also thankful.

I'm thankful to be known, at least, in part. I'm thankful to know other people. I'm thankful that when I walk in Walmart, I see the same people working the registers, and I see a handful of people I know from various places, shopping, and we stop and we speak to each other in the aisles. We don't have the luxury of shopping in a big city where you could choose from 3 different Walmarts, purposefully choosing the one farthest from home so you can avoid seeing someone you know! And I think that's a good thing.

In the past couple weeks (really, I can think of so many things in the past year), some really devastating things have happened here. And I have seen a whole community struggling and grieving and processing life. That doesn't happen in a big city. A tragedy in a big city is just one more to add to the list of the hundreds of tragedies that are happening all over the city every day. But here --- we're too connected. I mean, really, most of the town is related to each other in some way. So nothing happens without creating this huge ripple. And I'm glad. I'm glad we live in a place where you can't just pretend that life isn't hard! It is hard. And if you won't be honest about it, there's at least a dozen people waiting in line to be "honest" about it for you. And maybe that's good. Maybe, if we aren't willing to be real about the struggle, God just exposes it anyway.

I'm wondering...what if we started being real about our own lives? What if, instead of letting everyone else talk about our struggles for us, we opened up and shared how hard life is right now. What if we embraced this small-town life and followed the commands of Paul in Romans 12 to "rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep"? I believe God has given us, in some ways, a unique opportunity to have real, vibrant, God-honoring community. What if we thanked Him for that, and started using what's He's given us? I wonder what God could do with that. Probably, exceedingly abundantly beyond all we can ask or imagine...

Me & PJ

image from tracking.si.com

I was talking to my dad on the phone the other week. We'd made our way through politics, and were now on to more important things like college sports. Dad had been out of commission with a cold, and then out of town at a convention, and had just learned about the latest PJ Hairston incident. If you've been living under a rock this summer, I'll catch you up.

Hairston, Carolina basketball's leading scorer, has been pulled over for speeding three times since May. All of those times he was driving someone else's car. Two of those times he was driving a car rented by a notorious drug-user who seems to enjoy getting arrested, and is "coincidentally" connected to other high-profile basketball and football players from Carolina and Duke. One of those times, the officers also found pot and a gun in the car. It's not been a good summer for PJ. It's not been a good summer for Carolina either, especially as they continue to undergo this lengthy NCAA violation scandal.

Dad told me that this just had to be it for PJ. He said even the Carolina fans he's talked to admit that it's time for Hairston to hit the road. And, in fact, Roy Williams did finally suspend him indefinitely (where it goes from here remains to be seen) from the team. I have to admit that when I've read these stories, I have wanted to gloat --- Wolfpacker that I am --- but...I just can't. Overwhelmingly, I have felt pity and compassion for PJ. Why?

I think, maybe, it's because I identify with him. I mean, I don't know what's going through his head, really. I don't know why he likes speeding, and why he hasn't slowed down after two tickets. I don't know why he seems to be self-destructing in front of all of our eyes. But, I know what it's like to feel like you are powerless to stop the cycle of sin you're in. I know what it's like to feel like a disappointment. To feel like everything you touch turns to garbage. I know what it's like to feel like you've cut yourself off from all the people who really cared about you. I know what it's like to feel like you're so far gone now that there's no turning back, so why try? But. But! I also know what it's like to learn that there is a way out of the pit!!! And His Name is Jesus!

Dad told me how he remembered another eerily similar case of a basketball player who went to State. He, like Hairston, was the all-star on the team, but unfortunately also seemed to share a flair for self-destruction. Eventually, he screwed up one too many times, got kicked off the team, and finally ended up living on the streets. Dad said something to the efffect that he hoped PJ would sort of get the "hoodlum" out of him this summer, and get back on track. And it hit me. PJ does have some hoodlum in him. And so do I. And so do you. On our best days, that's all we are, until Jesus steps in and rescues us. Until Jesus came here, lived perfectly, died for our "hoodlum-ness", rose again, and gave us His record, and a way to be Sons. All of a sudden, what I really longed for was for Roy to say: "PJ, you have really messed up, and you've disgraced yourself, the team, and the university, but I want you to come back here. I want you to be in this family. I'm willing to let the naysayers call me an idiot and say that I'm too soft on you, because I want you to be here."

The most beautiful part I think was the last part of our conversation. Dad said the reason he felt that PJ was gonna have to go for good was because Carolina just can't handle the bad press right now. And, you know, he's right. They have been hounded for a couple years now about how messed up their athletics and academics are. And they can't handle another big scandal. But in that moment, it's like I had this out-of-body experience. It's like I stepped back and I could see the big picture.

God came down and he got dirty here. He came to rescue a bunch of hoodlums who, honestly, just keep screwing up. It's not like we all get instantly sanctified. No, He's still doing the dirty work of sanctifying us, one step at a time, til one day...one day, when we'll really believe fully that we're His, and He's not gonna let go of us. No matter how many hoodlum things we have done. He bought us. We're His.

I imagined the God-haters...the ones who, really, are just running from Him. I imagined them saying "I mean, look at this mess! Look at the world. Look at all these hoodlums running around here. Especially the ones who claim to be His kids. They're all a bunch of screw-ups. You know, God really can't handle the bad press right now. He needs a few more Mother Teresa's. No, that one there--- He can't afford to take on that one." But that's not who God is!!! Praise God, He chooses the sick. He chooses the hoodlums! He chooses the Cristina's, and the PJ's, and He welcomes us to come home to our Father. That's what it means that all our sin, and all God's wrath for it, was poured out on Jesus. That's what it means that we are adopted by God. Sons and daughters. What a loving and gracious and merciful and lavish Father.

Waiting

Casey was listening to a podcast this morning by Paul Tripp about waiting (I couldn't find a link to the exact talk, but I found this article which is very similar in content). I'm sure God is teaching Casey through the podcast, but I'm also 100% sure that He intended for me to hear that podcast, too. In many ways, I believe that's where I am right now -- waiting. 

To be honest, 99.99% of the time that I'm waiting, I wish I were not waiting. I do NOT appreciate the wait. Most times, I'm not even sure exactly what the wait is leading to, but I just want to be there already! But, in this podcast, Paul Tripp reminds us that waiting is, in fact, part of the plan. God is not ignoring us. He is not busy. Because He knows us better than we know ourselves, He knows exactly what we need to endure to become more and more like Jesus, until the day that He comes back for us. 

"Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when He appears, we shall be like Him, because we shall see Him as He is. Everyone who thus hopes in Him purifies himself as He is pure." (1 John 3:2-3) See? We are God's children now, waiting for Him to come back for us, but even in the waiting -- in the hoping for His return -- we are being purified; we are being made more like Jesus. What a beautiful work of art! 

While listening to the podcast, I was reminded of the way that Eugene Peterson paraphrases part of Romans 8. I think it fits perfectly. Here it is:

"All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain through the world are simply birth pangs. Bit it's not only around us; it's within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We're also feeling the birth pangs. These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don't see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy. 

Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God's Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don't know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That's why we can be so sure that ever detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good."

Wow. Amen.