My Father's Dollar

A dollar. A whole dollar. All to myself. Wow!

An allowance my father told me. I was just beyond kindergarten and, as he explained, he and Momma wanted me to have some money of my own. This was the first time they’d be giving me a weekly allowance.

The fact that he gave me a whole dollar—which seemed like a lot of money for a little kid in the mid-seventies—wasn’t the most memorable part, however. It was what he did next.

I’m standing there in near unbelief, dollar bill alight in my hand, when he asked me a profound question.

“Would you like some change for that?”

I’m thinking of the nearby convenience store, candy, and baseball cards. I knew I’d get change with purchases. But he had my curiosity. 

“What for, Dad?”

And, then, the lesson—the lesson I need to ask if he intended or if it just happened in the moment.

“So you can tithe.”

I’d been to church. I’d heard the preacher. I’d heard my folks too. I could recall the scriptural phrases. “Don’t rob God. Bring the whole tithe into the the storehouse. Test me in this and see.” Tithing, giving 10% or your income back to God through your church, wasn’t a new concept to me. But, now it was my money. Now I had to decide. 

Doing a quick calculation of convenience store goodies versus obeying what I’d heard from the Bible, and, frankly, thinking, “it’s only ten cents,” I replied, “Sure, Dad.” He traded my one dollar bill for an equal assortment of quarters, dimes, and nickels. There was no instruction as to how much to give the church; he left that up to me.

And so it began, a near life-long habit of giving to support God’s work through my local church out of obedience to Scripture with faith in God the Father. You noted that I said, “near life-long habit,” right? Sure enough, I’m not perfect. Sure enough, there have been times when I kept 100% of my income and treated it as my own. As a single, young adult I’d even spent more than 100% of my income aided by credit cards to fulfill my desire for a lifestyle I couldn’t afford.

When I came to my senses horrified by my indebtedness at the ripe age of twenty-six, my mind tumbled two decades prior to my Father’s lesson. His simple principle. All the Scripture I knew. It all came back to me. And though I wasn’t sure how I’d pay all my bills if I first paid my tithe, I acted in faith. I obeyed. I tithed. First. Ten percent or more.

It was scary as I restarted that habit as an indebted adult. But then it was exciting. What would God do to provide? Where would money come from? How could I manage on less money than I’d been spending before?

I never missed a payment. I was never late on a payment. God provided. One day at a time. One check at a time. One decision at a time. He was faithful just as His Word had said.

Tithing as a six year old was—let’s be honest—easy. I knew my dad would take care of me; my folks provided everything for me. But—still being honest here—why should tithing as an adult be any different?

Doesn’t my Father—my Heavenly Father, God—still provide everything for me?

“Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!”

— Matthew 7:9-11

It’s still all His money. And with that perspective both tithing and giving are a joy. There is joy in giving back to God through tithing; I'm recognizing how He provides for me. And there is further joy in giving to meet the needs of others; I'm experiencing joy like Him. Joy, indeed!

It is my Father’s dollar.

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You're Gonna Flat

Tick—tick—tick—tick. The rhythmic sound of something stuck on bicycle my tire. Still four miles from my destination pulling to a stop, I inspected the front tire first. One quarter spin, nothing. Next quarter spin, a goathead thorn. Not too big, but just enough to punch through.

Leave it in knowing I’ve got four miles to go? It might break off or go deeper causing a flat anyway? Or pull it out and listen closely? I pulled it out. No hiss emanating. Nice. I hopped on to finish the ride.

Then the tire squished too much in a corner. Within site of my destination, I was flat. Though I had a tube and the tools to fix it, I decided to walk it in. I’d fix the flat later.

If you ride a bike, you’re gonna flat. No matter the variables, odds are, sooner or later, you’ll have a flat tire. Bike riding is like that.

What are you going to do about it?

Take to social media decrying poor tire and tube quality. Blame your bad luck to a friend on the phone. Complain of the inconvenience to anyone within earshot until you let the story die. You could.

But, what’s the better thing to do?

Fix your flat.

Certain situations your lips weren’t meant to fix. You gotta use your hands. Put in the time. Do the work.

Life is like that. Some folks say, “S#!% happens.” I say they need their mouth’s washed out. I also say, “Life happens.” The good comes. The bad comes. Sometimes it’s your circumstance. Sometimes it’s your consequence. No matter the cause, what are you going to do about?

Pull over. Stop. Get out your tools. Fix the flat.

Christ followers pursue a continuing love relationship with Jesus. We read our Bibles, pray, study together, share life together, and practice a host of other spiritual disciplines. It's how we spend time in relationship with Jesus. Like any relationship, it takes some work. Yet that very relationship gives us the tools we need to handle whatever life brings.

You’re gonna flat. Be prepared to fix it.

“Search for the Lord and for His strength; seek His face always.”

— ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭105:4‬ ‭HCSB‬‬

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More Than A Sticker

Driving through town before dawn this morning I noticed something. The nicely paved, off-street trail that had swelled with runners in the last few weeks had just a handful today. What happened?

The 13.1 sticker.

What the stickers represents anyhow. 13.1 is the distance in miles of a half-marathon and 26.2, the mileage of a marathon. Our local marathon and half-marathon were this past Sunday. Of the 12,000 amazing runners in our event there are three types.

First, those who don’t train much. They’re out to enjoy themselves or check something off their bucket list. They swelled the trails for the last week or so.

Next, those who trained diligently for the race, but, sadly, may not keep up that newly acquired discipline afterwards. They’ve swelled the trails for a few months.

Finally, those for whom running is a lifestyle. They run races as a target to train for or as a reward for all the training. They’re always on the trails.

All three groups ran the race. All three have the right to put the 13.1 or 26.2 sticker on the car. They earned it.

But shouldn’t life be about more than a sticker?

For many it is. Yet, for some of us, we bounce through life collecting stickers and ticking of bucket list items—which are fine—but we could be doing life a little differently. We could be becoming more. 

Rarely is one event transformative. It’s the new discipline leading to or resulting from the event that is truly transformative. The next right step becomes the new discipline becomes the life-changing habit. That's where transformation takes place.

Life is about more than a sticker. Put in the work day-in-day-out for weeks and months and years. That’s the way of true change.

“He who neglects discipline despises himself, but he who listens to reproof acquires understanding.”

— Proverbs 15:32

Thanks for reading, dear friend. I'll be getting back into the weekly slice of life writing habit. I hope you'll join me, comment, share and subscribe.

Why Jesus? Good News

    Jesus lived on earth about 30 years with an active ministry of three years. Yet he was so busy the conclusion to the Gospel of John (21:25) says, “Jesus did many other things as well. If every one of them were written down, I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written.” And depending on your count, the four Gospels—Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John—record 250 unique episodes from the life of Jesus.
   In the Gospels you encounter Jesus teaching in parables, confounding everyone, welcoming the unwelcome, loving children, healing people with disabilities, confronting religious leaders, raising the dead, preaching powerfully and forgiving many of their sins. Of course, he died and rose again as well.
    What one thing do all these stories of Jesus have in common, however? Other than the fact that they are about Jesus, the one thing is the Gospel message itself—the good news—of God’s love for humanity. God loves you. Good news.
    The Bible says in John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” Good news.
    No matter who you are or where you come from, what you’ve done, or what’s been done to you, God so loved you! And if you trust Jesus as your Savior, you will have eternal life! That is, indeed, good news.
    The Bible says, however, “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,” in Romans 3:23. Sin is breaking God’s law. Sin is doing things our way. And all means all. We have all sinned. That’s not good news. But that is the truth.
    Of those sins that all of us have committed, the Bible says, “But your iniquities (fancy word for sins) have separated you from your God; your sins have hidden his face from you, so that he will not hear” (Isaiah 59:2).
    Our sin separates us from God. God is perfect and holy; he can not have anything to do with sin. Again, bad news. But, again, the truth. That is why we don’t have hope, we struggle with fear and anxiety, and may even feel lost and alone in the world. All these things are symptoms of our sin that separate us from the God who made us.
    That is where Jesus comes in. That is why we portray This Day of Resurrection for you. Each story we’ve portrayed is to carry the message, God loves you. That is good news.
    Consider Romans 5:8, “But God demonstrates his own love to us in this, while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Jesus died. That is hard to portray. Hard to watch. Hard to imagine. Yet, Jesus died to save all of us from our own sins. That is good news.
    Many of us have heard and welcomed the good news of Jesus already. At some point in our past we prayed to God, admitting we have sinned, stating our belief that Jesus is God’s one and only son, and confessing our faith in Jesus as the Savior of our sins and Lord of our lives.

    If you have not already become a follower of Jesus, you can do that right now.
Pray a simple prayer like this, “God, I know I have sinned. Please forgive me. I believe Jesus is your son. I commit my life to follow him as my personal Savior and Lord. Amen.”
    If you just made this decision for the first time, or if you have any questions about the good news of Jesus, please contact me.

(Note: This post was originally delivered as a Gospel invitation at Southview Baptist Church's 2018 Easter drama, This Day of Resurrection.)

Brick Walls

"You'll receive an F."

A failing grade.

No questions asked. No consideration given. Automatic F.

That was the policy of my college photography professor. A portrait with a brick wall background would receive an automatic failing grade. The syllabus stated it in bold print. Dutifully, or doubtfully as we were, we asked about it none-the-less. His verbal answer as recorded above was as straightforward as his written statement. 

Confounded. There we sat. Students in turmoil. A professor who meant what he wrote on his syllabus even though we asked nicely. A man who challenged us to find more creative backgrounds than brick walls. Where in the world would we take portraits other than in front of our ubiquitous collegiate brick walls?!

Imagine our surprise when one simple rule forced us to see everything that was already all around us. Our prof-imposed creativity forced us into the kaleidoscope. Shapes, colors, variety, texture, richness. Off the campus and into life. Both our photos and our world views saw benefit.

Yet for many, one rule defines everything. The suspects are always "them." The "other." That opposing political party is stupid. That different race of people is bad. That other religious group is evil.  One rule builds walls of ignorance, prejudice, fear, and hatred.

Sometimes such people emerge from their walls to emote. Saying or writing ugly things full of half-truths or outright lies. Organizing or marching in protest. And at the worse, using their walls to bring violence down upon those they see as other.

Ignorance. Prejudice. Fear. Hatred. Extremism.

We don't need such walls. The world is more beautiful without them.

Back to my college photography class, you may have wondered how many portraits were turned in with brick walls? One. She forgot. The prof did not. F.

If only our world had a professor with one rule: don't have brick walls of hate; love one another as I have loved you.

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.”

— Jesus, as recored in John 13:34