January 5th, 2009 by toben

With this being the first post of the New Year I feel like I should say something significant that sets a tone for what will come after in these next weeks and months. But that’s too much pressure so I am going to just stick to something simple: my New Years resolution. I suppose for many it is resolutions, with an s. But for me this year I am just going for one.

A little history: last year I had a bunch of resolutions and I am pretty sure I accomplished them all. But looking at the list now, they were sort of lame ones. I wanted to break 80 on the golf course more than once. Check. I wanted to get some work done on the back yard. Check. I wanted to write another book. Check. And I wanted to take each of the girls on a weekly date. That one I didn’t do so well with. Life is so busy that finding an hour to carve out to spend one on one with Audrey or Emma is tougher than it should be! So in reviewing last year’s resolutions I realize that nothing I resolved to do had much lasting significance. They were all just activities or jobs that I wanted to do. And really, most of the benefit from these resolutions was for me alone, not for Joanne and the girls—what do they care if I break 80?

So this year’s resolution (drum roll please) is that I want to step fully into the role of spiritual head of my family. I know, this needs some explanation. For years I have neglected my responsibility in this capacity. I suppose I thought the bases were covered otherwise—the girls went to Christian school and Sunday school. We prayed together a couple of times every day, on the way to school and before meals and at bedtime. And Joanne filled in the gaps, helping with memory verses and reading the Bible with them. I sort of sat back and watched and thought to myself that all of that was good enough. But I have been a non-factor in the spiritual lives of my family, and I think it’s time I did something about that.

But during the last year I started to feel like I was on the outside looking in with Joanne and the girls. They were doing things and growing in ways that I had nothing to go with. So this year, I want in! And the cool thing is that Joanne is really excited for me to take a swing at it. Unlike last year’s resolutions, this is one that she actually cares about and will benefit from.

So what does this look like on a practical, daily level? I have no idea! I know that I want to get in the habit of reading the Bible as a family every day. I know I want to be freer with our prayer life. Right now we have these set times where we do it; but, I want us to be spontaneous, praying together whenever we feel led and praying whatever is on our hearts. I want to spend more time processing what the girls are learning at school and church. I want spiritual things to become apart of our dialog. And in doing so, I can pass all of this through the lens of grace! I can help them start, at a young age, to live in the room of grace, in the realm of trusting God rather than in the realm of simply striving to please God. I can pass this on as a legacy. How cool is that?

So that’s my resolution. That’s what I want to be about this year. I have heard that one of the best ways to get going on keeping a resolution is to tell someone about it. Apparently resolutions kept secret are easy to break. So there, I’m telling someone. And I’m hoping for all of us that our resolutions will be ones with eternal significance that breath grace and truth into our own lives and the lives of those we love. And if you haven’t made any sort of resolution along these lines it’s not too late! Let’s call it the five-day rule: any resolutions made within five days of the new Year are still valid.

As a team here at LCI we will be praying that this is a year full of grace for each of you.

December 24th, 2008 by John Lynch

I became a believer 29 years ago. On December 23rd.

This week I was transported back to that time. It was an incredibly personal and intimate week with God. He allowed me to remember how preciously Jesus had revealed Himself to me. So, I’ve tried to capture a sense of the world before His appearing. I thought what it might have been like the night Jesus decided to allow the transaction which would bring Him to earth. I dwelled on what it might have been like the moment He entered our existence. I hope it comforts your heart like it did mine.

The entire story is of man running to and from God. No matter what He tried we did not get Him. We saw only God’s authority. We feared Him, we tried to obey Him, appease Him, manipulate Him, but rarely did anyone for very long enjoy Him. It got swallowed up in superstition and creating new gods of their own imagination. It devolved into competing to prove they were more righteous than others. And so, for 1000s of years, man knew there was a God, some saw His displays of power, but few experienced His intimacy and His presence in their real need. They were too busy trying to prove they were worthy of His favor. Israel was weighed down under an impossible Law, but all mankind was brutally weighed down under their own longing to belong, protected, to be intimately known, to be free from their own sin. Less than 100 yrs after King David’s death, God’s creation is afraid of Him, they have learned to play religious games, they draw close and then run away, they follow after other gods they create, they hate each other, they don’t get His love…So what does He do?   He allows them to get tired of running. He lets them run to other gods. He lets them be oppressed under other rulers. Until they cry out for the Messiah.

Israel cried out…“We’re sorry. Come back. Be with us. Be our God. Fight for us. Come close to us. Enter our pain, take away our shame. Let us feel You again. Let us feel known.”

And when they finally cried out with sincerity, they call Him by the name they most need and hunger for…“Immanuel” .  That beautiful thought-God with us.

By the time they cry it in earnest, all they have is this ridiculously impossible promise:

Isaiah 7:14-“Behold, a virgin will be with child and bear a son and she will call His name Immanuel.”

Centuries go by…Nothing. God is silent. For over 400 years, silent.

Then, finally then, it happens. The deep magic begins. The single most important moment in the history of all the galaxies, of all heaven. In the dead of night when no one suspects a thing. In the dead of human history when even the most devout had almost given up all hope. When evil had finally been conceded victory. The world is at it’s darkest, this hour before the first Christmas. Then, w/only a mother’s panting gasp/a newborn’s cry, God suddenly enters into our history…to rescue us. Not in thunder and smoke, or even on a white horse, but in quiet, fragile, helplessness, in a cold, dank corner of the world…God becomes not man, but 1st child… All the angels stand their post/hold their breath…And now we are not alone. He really did remember. God will now be forever with us.

What grace is greater than a Father giving us His Son? Not imposing. Not invading. Not visiting. But given. We will never understand it. He was saying, “I am giving you my Son. To this murderous race. To you I give My Son. I know of no other way to get you home.”

Isaiah 9:6 - “For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us.”

John 3:16 -  “For God so loved the world that He gave His only…Son”

I imagine Christ’s last night in heaven:

“I’m ready Father.” “Son, the next thought you’ll have will be that of a baby’s. All memories of this home, this glory, this beauty-will be gone. They will be replaced with filth, cold and pain. /the 1st breath you take will pull you on a course to your death. Son, it will take years before you’ll remember this conversation, this arrangement. Then it will dawn on you, who you are and who I am and where home is. That moment will be the loneliest of all-the morning you wake up and realize how far you are from home.”

I imagine Him saying to mankind:

“Hello earth. This is my Son. You will call Him Jesus. I am…giving Him to you. To do with Him as you will. And I am giving Him to you in the most vulnerable way. I am trusting my only begotten Son to you. To you. He will now breathe your air, totally unable to protect Himself. You will hold Him tonight, you will choose to receive Him. You will decide to love Him. This is my Son, in whom I am deeply and wonderfully delighted. Take care of Him.”

• He loves me so much, He loves you so much:
• He came from one universe to another to find me
• He came knowingly into our planet’s disease, fear and anger
• He chose to lose all memory of heaven, to come as a baby to save earth, to rescue me
• He came knowing He’d lose rights to use His powers to protect Himself
• He came knowing He’d experience the pain of deceit, abandonment, including mine
• He came knowing He’d experience violent hatred
• He came knowing He’d experience heart-breaking loneliness, some of which I have caused
• He came knowing He’d be rejected by his closest friends
• He came knowing He’d suffer temptation to its end
• He came knowing it would ultimately kill Him

Almost every year at this time, I freak out. I get lost in the universe. The weight of all the loss I’ve seen, the darkness of all the disappointment, the power of evil around me, the regret of a thousand wrong choices. I feel like I miss out. Though I’m surrounded by incredible love-I can feel outside of it. Like there’s a place, somewhere where I am known fully. And I am not there. I am in traffic, far away from home. That there’s something deeply, fundamentally wrong w/me. That God loves me, more pities me, but I will never fully belong.

Has the God I once seemed to know more intimately been covered by talking about Him too many times, by preparing well crafted messages (thinking they could replace just being with Him,) by disappointment, disillusionment, disbelief of His goodness, discouraging pain and loss?

Invariably I am left walking alone through Christmas-lit neighborhoods calling out His Name, looking for something, waiting for His voice, needing Him again to be Immanuel for me.

So He gently reminds my heart who He is to me, what He has done for me, what He has done to me:

• Jesus was the first to display the love my heart was desperately hoping was possible
• Jesus was the first to bring my heart alive, to bring me delight
• Jesus was the first to convince me He knew the worst about me and adored me still
• Jesus was the first person I ever felt fully protected by
• Jesus was the first person who ever made sense of life
• Jesus was the first to convince me life could have a happy ending
• Jesus was the first to convince me my life had a purpose to it
• Jesus was the first to convince me that I was a new creature
• Jesus was the first person I ever felt completely known by
• Jesus was the first person I ever felt completely safe with
• Jesus was the first person who ever showed me purity/goodness
• Jesus is the first one I ever laid my soul bare to
• Jesus is the one who’s love caused me to risk loving, trusting, being loved by another
• Jesus is the One who convinced my heart I could be vulnerable
• Jesus is the One who convinced my heart I could forgive, let go of.
• Jesus is the One who convinced my heart I could reconcile and confess my wrong
• Jesus is the One who convinced my heart I can give my life away
• Jesus is the one place in the entire universe where I feel truly home

Somehow I became convinced I could trust Him with me-that December 23rd, 1979. Today, I only must again be convinced on December 24th 2008, that I can trust Him with me-that He is here, in my world, in my moment to moment, in my pain, in my dreams, in my hope, in my fears, in my joy, in my tomorrows. And I will-maybe for the first time experience “Immanuel”-God in me, God with me, God next to me, God protecting me, God defending me, God loving me, God enjoying me, God over me, God through me, God for me, God from me, God defining me, God with His arm around me.

…Not bad for people just looking for a fix. Merry Christmas.

December 22nd, 2008 by toben

I was with some friends, Chris and Cindy Beall, in Oklahoma last week for about 5 hours.  I got up in the morning, got on the plane, landed, rented the car, drove to their place, hung out, got back in the car, got back on the plane, landed, drove home.  Whew! It was a really cool day and they have an amazing story.  I was meeting with them to see if there is some potential to turn their story into a book or some sort of resource for others that are going through what they have survived.  I think it has real promise!

Anyhow, during our conversations we hit on a theme that has stuck with me for these last days.  They talked about the change in their relationship that produced a “new kind of normal.”  This family went through a significant crisis—for more detail check out http://cindybeall.com.   In the days after, Cindy’s refrain was, “I just want our old life back!” But over time that changed.  As things progressed she started coming to a real appreciation of the new way their life was shaping up.  Now she will tell you that the new normal is far better than anything she had in her pre-crisis days.

This concept really hit me.  The new normal.  I think my first reaction was that in some ways, the new normal must be inferior to the old normal.  Not sure why my thinking goes there, but it does.  Maybe that’s because culturally we tend to romanticize the past?  Who knows.  But after talking to Chris and Cindy I started to think about the couple of times in my life when “normal” has been reset, when everything changes.  And you know what, even though the transition can be tough, the new normal really turns out to be a blessing.

Some new normals are all good.  When we had Audrey and then Emma that was a new normal—wouldn’t change that for anything.  But a couple transitions were harder.  When I was the subject of an intervention because of my alcoholism, that was the beginning of a new normal.  When I got diagnoses with bi-polar, that was the beginning of a new normal.  Those were tougher, and the new normal took a while to take hold. The immediate aftermath of both situations was messy and ugly and jarring. But as time went by, things got better.  I went to AA and got serious about sobriety.  I got the medication that I needed.

Now I can look around at where we are today as a family and appreciate, and even thank God , for the new normal.  That doesn’t mean that everything is sunshine and roses all the time—far from it!  But it does mean that on the whole, things in this current reality are by far better than they have been before.  There is literally no time in my life that I can look back on and lament that things aren’t as good today as they were “back then.”

I take this as a sign of God’s grace. I have to believe that it’s because of God’s love for us that he allows the tough transitions, the crises, the jarring shifts in out day-to-day lives to produce a better and brighter new normal.  Isn’t that just like our God?  So thanks Chris and Cindy for helping me to see the beauty of the new normal.

December 18th, 2008 by toben

I’ve got issues. Seriously, I do stuff I don’t want to do. And the stuff I want to do? I often don’t do it. Seems like something Paul wrote about. Anyhow, I have come to realize that a lot of this stems from hiding things. When I do things in secret that’s when the trouble starts. If you have been following this blog you know that my recent challenge is spending (or rather, not spending) money. I love to spend, I love to give gifts, I love to eat out. I figured out the other day that I spend like $60 a month on Diet Coke (large Diet Coke from McDonalds, extra ice, $1.73, repeat 3 times a day).

Anyhow, I have been keeping my spending habits hidden. At least I thought I had. I was talking to Joanne’s dad the other day about this very thing and he told me he’s known for years that this has been an issue. I thought I was fooling him, but no dice. I think I did manage to fool Joanne for a while but eventually it came out; (it always does) and, she was very upset, and rightfully so, that I had been so irresponsible. She said, “Didn’t it cross your mind that dealing with this together would have been better than you trying to deal with it alone?” Good point.

So I thought it might be a good idea to “shine the light” on this issue with a couple of other friends, namely Jamie and Michael. So I tell them the story. But what am I looking for from them? It’s not really accountability, where we sort of spill our guts once a week about all the stuff we’ve done wrong in hopes that our confession will somehow cleanse us and the fear of next weeks confession will prevent the bad stuff this week. In my experience this hasn’t worked.

What I really want is to “do life” with a few guys and keep the stuff out in the open. I don’t need to “confess” anything to them because I am not hidden with them. And I am not looking to them for my strength or some form of absolution. Those things can only come from God. Speaking of which…

The funny thing is that when I am hiding something I even try to hide it from God. How funny is that? I crack up at myself because God knows everything! But when stuff starts to come out with friends and family then all of a sudden it becomes a topic of my prayers. Like somehow if I prayed about it before I might actually feel God telling me to do something about it—that as we look at my stuff together maybe he is wanting to add this or that to the list of things we’ll face together. I just read the history books in the Old Testament and if I learned anything from that it should have been, “you can’t fool God.” Goodness knows the Israelites tried.

So it’s not accountability that I’m looking for. It’s to live a life out in the light, in the open, without hiding. And I am looking for people who want that too. Fortunately God has given me a few of them—they are my community.

December 16th, 2008 by toben

For the last year or so I have been looking at all things spiritual through a lens of grace.  Obviously that has something to do with where I work—we’re sort of in the grace business.  But it also has to do with where I am in the natural progression of my own journey.  I don’t think grace reads the same way for the broken and un-broken.  For those of us on the broken side, there is a need, a desire, a longing for the message of grace.  After all, it is the only thing that can get us out of the hole that we have dug for ourselves—no amount of personal spiritual effort can accomplish in a lifetime what grace can accomplish in a day.  I love that!  Anyhow, as a broken person I have been highly receptive to seeing things through the grace lens.

So this is Christmas.  And it is my first year of really seeing the events that make up the Christmas story through this new lens.  What I am struck with is the amazing gift of Grace that Christ’s arrival represents.  I mean, think about it; God sent his son! 

It makes me think about my own kids.  I barely send them anywhere without going with them.  I only let them go to friend’s houses when I know the parents really well.  I don’t let them play in the front yard by themselves, and I don’t take my eyes off of them when we are out to eat or at the mall.  I am pretty protective.  I would never, under any circumstance send them into harms way.  Even when they are totally and completely safe sometimes I get to worrying about them.  I love them so much that I can’t bear the idea that anything bad could happen to them.

But God knew that bad stuff was going to happen. He knew the challenges, the disappointments, the danger and ultimately the death that awaited his son.  But he sent him anyways!  I can hardly fathom that.  And the reason he sent him is even more mind blowing for me.  That he would send him, his precious son, to earth to suffer and die for me—that I cannot grasp.  I don’t want it to be true because it seems like too much; too good, too amazing, too impossible. But he did it; and, all that I can do, the only action I can take, the only response I can have, is one of overwhelming gratefulness.

His birth was the first step in a long progression leading to the cross. It is the start of the grace-play that was acted out across the 33 years of Jesus’ life.   It was the first in an amazing, incredible, unbelievable act of grace. This year that’s what I’ll be thinking of.

December 12th, 2008 by toben

First of all, an update on Bo’s Café; our friends Wayne and Mick from Windblown came into town this week to help us polish the manuscript. We sat around the conference table from 8:30 in the morning until 4:30 in the afternoon and we got so much done! These guys have such good instincts when it comes to story telling. I think the suggestions that they made will definitely take the book forward another step or two. We are on schedule to publish in early September and from time to time on this blog we’ll keep you posted on our progress—we may even put up a chapter or two to wet your whistle.

Also, we have gotten almost 100 responses to our “Name This Book” blog from earlier this week. Keep them coming! We are getting some good stuff!

After a day of meetings with the Windblown guys Bruce, Bill, John and I met to work on the TF12. What’s that you ask? Well, the TF12 is our attempt to encapsulate the message of grace that we take around the world. Grace isn’t an easy concept to fully grasp and appreciate, so the guys have boiled it down to 12 key principles. I can’t wait to get these perfected so that I can post them! The statements are short and to the point and man do they pack a punch! It made me realize that there is so much about God’s grace that I don’t understand.

Here’s one that really threw me for a loop. If you have read this blog before, you know that I am captivated by the idea that my sin doesn’t separate me from God but that he stands next to me with his arm around me and we face my sin together. This is a big conceptual leap from where I spent most of my life, feeling like my sin completely separated me from God and that I couldn’t be in relationship with him until I was all cleaned up.

But here’s the thing. I always pictured God with his arm around a disheveled, beat-up, downtrodden, embarrassed and ashamed version of me. In my mind I am dressed in gray rags and look like I haven’t taken a shower in a week. And God, even with his arm around me has a look on his face of pure pity, of disappointment. Yes, God is there beside me, but he’s not happy with me.

Here’s where I get mindblown. Bill told me that my image was all out of whack. He told me that because I am imputed with righteousness (a concept I am still having trouble grasping) I am a regenerate person, wholly pleasing to God. He told me that I was standing there, all cleaned up and dressed in my finest, head held high and that God, with his arm around me, looks nothing other than completely pleased with me. I want to believe this is true! But I have to tell you; it’s going to take a while for me to get my head wrapped around this one. For so long I have felt like a disappointment to God. The idea that he is pleased with me is almost too good for me to take.

I am so fortunate to be part of this ministry! I get to do what I love, creating resources that get this message of grace out to the world. But I am even more blessed to be around men of God who teach and coach and encourage me as I continue to step into grace.

December 4th, 2008 by toben

As some of you know from reading this blog over the past few months, we have finished writing our latest book and we are starting into final edits. Some of you also know that we were set to self publish when at the last minute Windblown Media (publisher of the best seller The Shack) came along side as a publishing partner on this project. Very exciting stuff!

So now we are down to the nitty gritty details on this project and we have one that looms large: the title. Currently the book is titled Bo’s Café. Not a terrible title since a lot of the story takes place at, you guessed it, a place called Bo’s Café. But the title doesn’t really grab us; and, try as we might, we haven’t been able to come up with anything better.

This is where you come in. We need you to help us come up with a great name. Click on this link and it’ll send you to a page with a brief description of the book and a place for you to give us a new name idea and your email address. If we end up using the title you suggest, we’ll send you some goodies. Thanks for your help!

December 4th, 2008 by John Lynch

Usually, it seems, the most compelling testimonies of grace’s beauty and power come not from writers, speakers, theologians or professors but through those clumsily learning to depend upon an utterly, astounding God. The following is a Facebook excerpt from a 22-year old, Matthew Petersen, thanking his past high school pastor, Jason Ellis, for teaching him grace. Enjoy. - John

“I was reading an old paper I wrote and found something I wrote about an experience I had at youth group at Open Door that I want to share with you:

‘One of the most powerful experiences that has helped me to understand God’s Grace, and I still frequently tear up when I think about it, was at a winter camp with our youth group in high school. There were challenges that we had to meet to get points. In order to have the nice dinner that night, we had to meet a certain amount of points. There were different challenges including physical ones that people in my group could not do. And then there were challenges where we had to communicate our feelings, which I opted out of and failed my group. I remember feeling so ashamed when I wasn’t able to complete a task because of my fear and inability to talk to people. At the end of the day, my group was the only one which did not get enough points for the steak dinner. Everyone else stood in line and got their meals and came back to the tables to wait to pray. I don’t remember, but I think we got peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I felt so much shame and unworthiness because of the way I failed my group and my small group leader. And I remember feeling so bad because I could sense that my leader had thought she failed us when I knew it was really me who failed her. And I probably felt I failed God.

Then, after the whole youth group prayed, all the leaders came out of the kitchen and served my group steak. And they kept serving us. If we needed a refill, they would get it for us. The whole time at dinner, everyone in my group was crying. I think because we were able to relate it to what Christ did for us. We were the biggest losers, and we received the best. But then another incredible thing happened. My group all got up and started serving the rest of our youth group. That is what experiencing grace can do. Grace is so incredible.’”

Thanks Jason.

-Matt

December 1st, 2008 by toben

Over the Thanksgiving break I read the Pentateuch.  I know, that sounds like a strange choice for holiday reading; but, I am trying to read the Bible cover to cover between now and the new year.  I have read the whole Bible before (with the possible exception of Nahum) but never from front to back.  Not sure why I got this idea into my head, but it’s there.

Anyhow, in reading those first five books I was struck with one thought—man were those Israelites forgetful!  First God, via Moses, brings the plagues that get them sprung from Egypt.  Then God parts the Red Sea and subsequently drowns Israel’s pursuers.  Then God provides food—Manna; and, when they got tired of that, quail.  Then God brings water from a rock for the people and animals to drink.  Add to that God’s appearances to Moses on Mount Sinai and the pillar of fire and cloud that he used to lead them = God was so visible! 

But the Israelites forgot it all.  Their constant refrain is, “Why did you bring us out here to the wilderness to die?!”  They say it over and over again after God clearly shows up for them over and over again.  They must have had the worst short-term memory ever.

I realized about half way through this account of forgetfulness that I really should be careful in judging the Israelites.  I probably do the same thing. In fact, I know I have.  I often think if I could just see a miracle, or if Jesus would just appear to me, I would never doubt and my faith would be rock-solid for the rest of my days.  But now, I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t be the case.

This is certainly true of my grace-story.  At a certain point in my life I was hit by grace like a ton of bricks.  This grace came from God via Joanne and totally blew me away.  I got found out as an alcoholic which helped explain why I had been so terrible to Joanne and the girls for so long.  At that point it would have been totally understandable if Joanne had said, “That’s it.  I’m out of here.”  But she didn’t say that.  In fact she stuck by me and loved me through the toughest time in my life.  Of course I didn’t necessarily see that at the time—I was pretty myopic and focused on my own stuff.  But as the days and weeks passed, I began to appreciate the grace that had been extended.

Even more than that, it began to dawn on me that God was there directly extending grace as well.  I started to think about the idea that my sin doesn’t separate me from God but that he stands there beside me, full of love for me, as we face my junk together.  When I was in the throes of alcoholism I felt like my drinking separated me from God completely.  Of course the first three minutes of the AA meeting reminded me there was a “higher power” that was intent on standing with me, not against me, as I faced my sickness.  That “higher power” is God.

Anyhow, this was an amazing time of discovering grace and you might think with that experience under my belt I would never again doubt God’s grace and I would never question the grace that Joanne extends to me (especially after all they came through when they had the least amount of reasons to do so.)  But I do forget sometimes.  I do question whether God is really there extending grace when I blow it.  I wonder if what I do pushes him away and creates a blockade between him and me. 

So, like the Israelites, I have to be reminded from time to time that yes, indeed, God is a god of grace, and that he extends that grace to me regardless of the circumstance.  Sometimes he uses a book, or a verse, or one of my girls, or Joanne or a friend—but he is gracious in that he does continue to remind me.    He doesn’t have to do that you know.  I suppose he could just sit up there in Heaven thinking, “I showed up big time and if Toben can’t remember that, that’s his problem.”  But I guess that would be counter to his nature and I am so thankful to him that it is!

If I learned one thing from the Pentateuch it’s that no matter how much the people complained and forgot what God had done, he kept showing up, kept reminding them of his care and presence.   And I am so grateful that he continues on an almost daily basis to do the same thing for me.  How could I not love and worship and praise a god like that?!

November 25th, 2008 by John Lynch

When I start thinking about what I’m thankful for, it all gets garbled with the normal things: God, family…oatmeal with peanut butter. The things I’ve been given, which I deeply appreciate.

Today, I’m thinking about a few things that God, in His tender and kind grace, didn’t allow to happen, when by all means they should have:

1.)  I am exceedingly thankful He didn’t allow me to throw my life away -

I grew up loving my life. I was the student body president, all-state pitcher, and boyfriend of the homecoming queen. Then she broke up with me in college and the all-American kid couldn’t handle the rejection, pain and sense of inadequacy. So I dropped out, and began a five-year run of every kind of drug I could find, and every wrong, hidden romantic relationship I could finagle. I was semi-content to just stay in that wasted, stoned, broken-hearted state for the rest of my life. I actually thought I was free. I was not looking for Him. But God had seen enough. And in His mercy He rescued me. If He were in any way vindictive, vengeful or spiteful, I would have been left in a haze of arrogant hopelessness. For He was the brunt of my most wicked and biting jokes. “But even while we were yet sinners, He loved us…” And He brought me into a world I never knew existed. In truth, that scenario is true for all of us. I just was more flamboyant than some in my depravity. How do I thank God for that without becoming almost undone in awe and gratefulness?

2.)  I am exceedingly thankful He didn’t allow me to compromise my life, while waiting for my wife -

So, I’m 30. I’m in seminary. A new believer, I’d given up everything I own to leave my teaching career and pursue wherever seminary would take me. And now, in the middle of it, I’m lonely. Really lonely. I can’t see my future. I can’t see anything. My heroic decision to go to seminary now just seems silly and presumptuous. I’m working in a Christian elementary school in their afternoon program to make enough money to live on. And every day I talk to this woman as she comes to pick up her child. She’s divorced, has a mean ex-husband and several children. Two things are clear:

1-She doesn’t believe in Jesus              2-She digs me

I can remember rehearsing that to marry her I would have to throw away seminary and immediately find another career. Honestly, I was becoming willing to do it. It wasn’t the life I’d hoped for; but, I was now willing to compromise everything for a woman’s attention and affection. All my life I’d made these kinds of foolish decisions for immediate gratification; but, this time God would not let me. His precious, wooing grace kept me from allowing my passion and loneliness derail my world. It was less than a year later that He revealed my wife to me. That would be Stacey. And she’s the bomb times three. God has given me a family beyond my wildest, wildest dreams. This is not a story about me faithfully waiting on God. I would have ditched His plans in a heartbeat just to fix my loneliness. This is a story about God protecting me because He adores me. How do I thank God for that without becoming almost undone in awe and gratefulness?

3.)  I am exceedingly thankful He didn’t allow me to run from my world when hurt and broken dreams left me devastated - Less than 8 years ago, it all came falling down. This incredible community of grace I thought would always prevail and never come undone, was unraveling. And I got hurt. My prayers to make it stop seemed to go unanswered and my dreams of how God would use this place to influence the world began to fade. I was sure this was just one of those seasons great people write about later in life where their faith got tested. So I hung in there, hoping I would become one of those great people if I just got by this season. But the season didn’t end. It got worse. And I got revealed in all of my immaturity and sin. Soon my shame and hurt caused me to want to run, far away. I said at the time that I just wanted to quit, move and become a mailman in the hills of Grass Valley. Any inquiry that came to me for a pastor position, I privately answered. How crazy: I was willing to give up everything God had formed in the previous fifteen years of incredible life and ministry together. All these incredible friendships, all this amazing life, all the potential influence, all that had been poured into me, all the friendships my kids had made, I was now eager to abandon. I just wanted the pain to stop. But God knew I would just take the pain with me wherever I would go. He also knew what He had waiting if I could just stay and let Him resolve and heal in His timing. So, He used my kid’s delight of where we were to keep me there. I was trapped; and, in that trap, I learned humility…or something not far from it. I am not a great man; but, I sure have been allowed to do things beyond my wildest dreams because God, in His grace, wouldn’t let me run. How do I thank God for that without becoming almost undone in awe and gratefulness?

There are many times where God has let me fail and choose wrongly. They too fall under His sovereign grace. But I am especially grateful for the ones where He protected me from harming others and myself irreparably. I am thankful beyond any expression for the goodness my Lord has shown me. I love you my God and Savior.

Happy Thanksgiving my friends.

- John