Questions from the Storm

Scottsbluff, Nebraska.  Almost Wyoming.  I had a conference there this week.  Beautiful country.  Big sky, rolling plains, semi-arid, grasslands.  And crazy cool rock formations.  As a runner & outdoor lover, I was looking forward to the chance to get run trails in Scotts Bluff National Monument & Wildcat Hills State Recreation Area.  Monday evening, after waiting out that afternoon's thunderstorm,  I “ran the rock” as a friend said of the imposing Scotts Bluff.  Tuesday evening, with storms clouds to the south looking as if they’d blow to the east, I set out to run the longer, trickier Wildcat Hills.

Near perfect.  Sixty degrees & breezy, I exulted in the single-track through forests, across meadows & along rock formations.  About an hour into my run, at the farthest point out from my car, I was greeted by dark clouds creeping over the hills as I turned south.  Five minutes later I stopped to compose the photo above.  A few minutes past that I was hunkered under a cedar-treed ledge as torrents of rain unleashed.  Then hail.  Drenched already, I prayed that the hail would let up so I might run for cover in a shelter house I believed was up the now slick hillside above me.

The hail subsided.  I thanked God & charged up the hill reaching the welcomed shelter soaked to the bone.  There, thankful for three walls & a roof, I waited for the rain to stop.  I prayed, sang, thought, & moved around to stay warm.  An hour later.  Just about dried out.  The rain stopped.  I took the cue & ran the sticky access road as quickly as I could one mile back to my car.  Reaching the parking lot, the sky opened up once more.  But I made it.  Thankful for the beauty of creation.  Thankful for the adventure.  Thankful for the ability to run.  Thankful for God’s grace.  Even in rain & hail.

Life is like my Wildcat Hills run.  Ups & downs.  Beautiful & fearsome.  Smooth & rocky.  Gorgeous & ugly.  Hot & cold.  Exhilarating & painful.  Breezy & stormy.

Was there ever a moment in that run when God didn’t know where I was?  What I was doing?  That He loved me?  Was there ever a moment in which He could not control the natural forces He created?  Yet, for whatever reason, he allowed me to experience every minute of it.  And I wonder, why is it so easy for me to doubt God’s love or question His purpose in the hard times?  Yet I am not so quick to acknowledge His blessing in the good times?  Why can’t I accept the storms as part of life?  Seek the shelter I can?  Make the best of the time?  And ask God what He wants me to learn from it?

Flattened Out

Springing to action on my four year old's lunch box you see Batman and the bad guys.

PB&J.  Milk.  Fruit snacks.  Batman.  Bad guys.  The perfect preschool boy lunch combo.

This heinous corps of comic character villains were flinging around my office.  Locked in post-PB&J combat with Batman they struggled.  Until my son spoke directly to me while holding up the round-bellied, tuxedoed Penguin, "This bad guy got flattened out.  Then he got pumped back up again to be a nice guy."

How many of us have to be flattened out before we can be nice?

How many times must we be humbled before we drop our pride?

What pain will we suffer before we ask for help?

How many sleepless nights before we seek godly counsel?

He mocks proud mockers, but gives grace to the humble. Proverbs 3:34

You save the humble, but bring low those whose eyes are haughty.  Psalm 18:27

If only nicer, kinder, gentler, more Christlike was as easy as only one flattening and pumping.

Post a comment to share the learnings of your flattenings.

Traffic Light

Pine Lake.

Old Cheney.

Highway 2.

48th.

40th.

33rd.

27th.

Southwood.

Every cross street.

With a traffic light.

On my way to work.

Where I stopped.

This morning.

At.

All.

Of.

Them.

Gave me time to think.

How often, when I wanna zoom through life my foot on the pedal going my direction with no plans but my own in mind, does God have a traffic light?

To.

Slow.

Me.

Down.

Psalm 139:16 says, "All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."

God created you.  He knows you.  He loves you.

Seek Him.  Trust Him.  He will answer.

Next time the traffic light of life turns red, don't speak out in frustration, don't tap the steering wheel in impatience, and certainly don't run it, but stop to ask God what He wants you to know.

Empty

We normally don't celebrate empty. Empty is not so good.  Empty tummy. Empty head.  Empty wallet.  Empty tank.

Empty is a void.  Nothing where there should be something.  But there is not.

Easter, however, is a celebration of emptiness.  A celebration of what is not.

What is not tells us what is.

Think about the first disciple's Easter Sunday morning surprise.  One of the best things in life is a good surprise, right?  Note: a good surprise; bad surprises tend to bring grief & worry instead of joy.  A good surprise is a surprise because you don't expect it.

The disciples did not expect an empty tomb.  They weren't looking for the living. They were looking for a body.  A dead body.  They were without hope.  Expecting death.  Yet.  Surprise!  "Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen!  Remember how he told you..." Luke 24:5-6.

Jesus is no longer dead.  He lives today.

He lives to give life to you.

We celebrate an empty tomb.

Mourning into celebration.  Darkness into light.  Sadness into joy.  Despair into hope.  Defeat into hope.  This is what Easter is about.

Do you need a change?  Give Jesus your life.  You'll be transformed: Empty into full.

We celebrate new life.

Heartbeat

Our four year old - the Loving Linebacker - is growing bigger & acting stouter all the time.  Rough & tumble one moment. Gentle & loving the next.

Attempting to ready him for sleep last night I said, "Let's lay on your bed & read a book."  Knowing that he loves to be self-determined I added, "You choose one."

And, since he wants to be a paleontologist, I should not have been surprised by his choice: Ferocious Dinosaurs!  It even has sound.  Roaaaar!  I read softly & slowly attempting to mellow the beast beside me.  Yet he was so excited, he couldn't lay down, but sat & bounced beside me.  Peppering me with questions. Animated at the prospect of enormous creatures eating gargantuan plants.  And one another.  Rough & tumble.

Book complete, however, he laid his head on my chest.  Gentle & loving.

I whispered slowly, awe voiced, "Lay still. What do you hear?"

He whispered back, still as he could be, "I hear thumping."

"That's Daddy's heartbeat. God makes it beat.  It makes me alive."

I received a still, soft, "Uh-huh."  He lay motionless.  Listening.

Still whispering I asked, "Do you know what it says?"  Speaking to the rhythm of my heart, "Thump-thump, thump-thump, says, I love, John Mark. I love, Mama. I love, Mary.  I love, Sethy. I love, John Mark."

And then I prayed.  With my son's ear planted still.  On my chest.  I prayed.  Of thanksgiving, of praise, of protection, of wisdom.  And love.

O, how a father loves.

O, how much more our Heavenly Father loves.

God, so loved... you.

But God demonstrates his own love... to you.

You are the heartbeat of our Heavenly Father.

Share a comment - praise, prayer, thanks - as you choose.