I started to pray last night. It jumped right out of my heart, this request of the Father. Before it could bounce off the ceiling, I snagged it out of the air and said to myself, “You cant ask for that.” You see, I’ve prayed for certain things for many years, and for many years God has been silent on these matters. But I guess the prayer leapt out of my heart before my brain had a chance to slam the lid on it.

Sometimes we don’t want to ask because of how often He says, ‘No.’ Other times we don’t ask because we don’t feel that we have a right to ask anything based on what we know is happening in our own hearts and lives. I’d love to tell you it doesn’t matter and that God wants to hear our requests even when our faith is weak and our love has failed. It’d be great if our doubts and struggles didn’t have an affect on how God views our prayers, and maybe that’s the case. But it doesn’t feel that way to me.

I have great convictions about your soul and your faith and your relationship with God. My counsel to you would be . . . Ask! Let your heart lead your prayers. As long as it weighs on your heart, release it to God and trust that He can handle not only the requests, but the condition of the person making the request.

However, when it comes to mine, well, I know me too well. I know how many times I’ve begged Him and how many times He’s said ‘No’. I know the condition of my own little soul and the shallowness of my frail character. I know the weakness of my flesh and the corruptness of my heart (on my less than quality days.) So, what to do? My heart loves God—serves Him and it wants to ask for His blessing in many things. But it rarely feels worthy of even asking Him for daily bread.

There’s an old hymn, (I really wish one of you musical types would update this) it’s called, Father Hear the Prayer We Offer. It’s beautiful poetry but the last stanza gives some direction that is wise and poignant.

Let our path be bright or dreary,
Storm or sunshine be our share;
May our souls in hope unweary
Make Thy work our ceaseless prayer.

telemicus out

Do you remember the children’s nursery rhyme that starts with, “Sticks and stones may break my bones…?” What you soon learn about that rhyme is that it isn’t true. Words can hurt and they often do.

They are the wicked lashes of whips that rip the flesh from our emotional backs and leave us scarred for life. They form chains that bind us down and hold us captive to accusations and lies. Because of them, we construct prison walls to keep us safely out of reach from people for our protection. We gather them up and build our own arsenal of verbal weaponry to use on any who we feel threaten us. Words most certainly can hurt you.

This is why James wrote, “Speak and act as those who are going to be judged by the law that gives freedom” (2:12). The law that gives freedom is the law of love. Love demands that our words be gentle and kind. Love desires that our words and actions be compassionate and merciful. Of course, those who know me are screaming, “How can you say such things? You spout unkind, fierce, rude, judgmental political comments all the time.” I have to say this is sometimes true.

However, when I rail politically, it is generally not personal, but rather ideologically. For example, when I hate on the New York Yankees, it’s not personal, I don’t know any of them. But I hate what they represent in my world, from my own point of view. I am not trying to win converts to my side on these things, I’m cheering my own team. A cheerleader at a ballgame is not there to convince the opponents fans to change allegiance. Cheering our side inspires. I want people who agree with me to make some noise!

I have a couple of friends who are strongly in the camp of the political opposition from my own. Though they disagree with me, argue and challenge me, we do not attack each other personally. Mike and Bruce are good people who think different than I at times, that doesn’t make them Philistines. I don’t treat them, nor do they treat me, with disrespect.

Love calls us to realize that our words and actions will be judged by our own hearts and by the hearts of those who hear our words and receive our actions. Remember that love judges both our words and our actions. I hope I do better this week than last.

telemicus out

Several years ago, my daughter Hope came stomping through the living room visibly upset. Her mom asked, “Hope, what’s wrong?” Hope stopped, turned and yelled, “Dad’s being a jerk!” (I probably was.) When I heard her say this, I followed her to her room and had a one sided discussion that went something like this; “You have a right to feel whatever you feel about the things I decide. You have a right to express your feelings and to argue your point. You have my permission to say ANYTHING you need to say to express your feelings. But you DO NOT have the right to be rude or disrespectful while doing it. Are we clear?”

While Hope clearly has a flawed father to deal and reason with, I’m wondering what is the right way to approach our Father, God? Oh I don’t mean when life is wonderful and we are feeling all the love our tiny souls can muster for Him, I’m talking about the other days. The days when the bills out pace the pay, the days when the car, washing machine and the vacuum all stop working, and then the dog throws up on the floor. I’m talking about when we pray and ask Him for simple things like, “Let me pass my test, or get the job, or find my keys or make the cut” and none of those simple things goes in our favor. I’m talking about when we ask the big ones too, “Save my marriage, heal my child, let the scan be clean, let the test results come back negative” and the silence from the one who loves us most is thunderous. What is the right way to approach God in those moments?

Rich Mullins, wrote a song shortly before his death called, Hard to Get, in the song he pours out his frustration with God.

“Do you remember when You lived down here

Where we all scrape to find the faith to ask for daily bread

Did you forget about us after You had flown away

Well I memorized every word You said

Still I’m so scared, I’m holding my breath

While You’re up there just playing hard to get”

I can’t prove it, but I think He allows us to be as bold in approaching Him as our love extends toward Him. Jesus Christ made it possible for us to go directly to God. To go “behind the curtain” to step into the throne room and say exactly how we feel, to pour out our hearts and yes, even be angry at Him. He does not live in time and sees our lives in the context of eternity rather than the snap shot of our years.

I guess what I’m saying is that I think He can handle our attempts at saying how we feel, even when it is raw and pain driven. They key, it seems to me, is to let love lead—we can have angry and pain-filled words, but when those words need to be expressed, have your Love for God hold the leash and lead the way so the Pit bull of your pain is restrained and led by love.

telemicus out

The boldness of righteousness intrigues me. I don’t mean the morally faultless; I mean the pure of heart. I’m amazed at the way God treats boldness in his servants. Abraham recognized it was a bold move to bargain with the Lord for the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. The prophet Jonah, when asked by the Lord, “Do you have a right to be angry?” shot back, “I do! I am angry enough to die!” Very bold. David, spoke boldly of his own righteousness and called on God to do all manner of harm to his enemies. Beyond that, he boldly declares his trust in the Lord to support him against his enemies. Fascinating.

Let’s consider two aspects of this, the boldness of righteousness and boldness in approaching God. In recent weeks, Miss California captured more than her fifteen minutes of fame because she answered a loaded question from an agenda driven miscreant judge concerning gay marriage. Without prejudice, she said boldly that she believed in the traditional view of marriage. For her boldness, she is both honored and vilified.

Being bold is not being willing to argue with everyone we meet about our view of righteousness. Boldness is being without fear when we face an enemy. It’s also standing firm when we are afraid. It is speaking the truth regardless of the consequence. It is walking with integrity of the soul that will not compromise our faith. It is standing with and defending the cause of the oppressed when we have no power to wield. It is confidence in cause over capability and it is risk with no certainty of reward.

In the Old Book David says, “When I called, you answered me; you made me bold and stouthearted” (Psalm 138:3). In the movie, Return of the King, as they made plans for a diversion to give Frodo a chance to complete his mission, Gimli said, “Certainty of death, small chance of success… What are we waiting for?”

The Lord makes us bold and stouthearted. To be honest, I’ve been more stout-headed than stouthearted in my life. I want to be bolder for the Lord—not in my convictions, but in my actions. I think we need more boldness for the cause of righteousness. I suppose we will need a greater hunger for it in our lives. Boldness is not arrogance or confidence in ourselves, boldness is a reckless confidence in the Lord and His Presence in our lives—“you made me bold and stouthearted” well then, what are we waiting for?

telemicus out

In the movie, Passion of the Christ, Jesus falls and Mary comes and kneels down beside him. Jesus looks at her and says, “See mother, I’m making everything new.” This phrase is from Revelation 21:5. This Sunday is Easter. As I was thinking about what I should speak about this week to our church the Word came to me, “Tell them I’m making everything NEW!” No, I didn’t hear a voice, but I heard it loud and clear.

The book of Hebrews is partly about the ways in which Christ is better than anything that came before him. He is better than Moses, He is a better High Priest, He is a better sacrifice, He is better than angels. He is better than the Law and provides a better covenant. He grants better access to the Father and offers a better rest. Jesus death on the cross gave all of humanity something better.

But beyond the elements of our religion, Jesus gives us the opportunity to live new lives. On that Sunday morning when the stone rolled away like the doors at the Target store and he walked out a free man, everything changed for us who belong to Him. “Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God” (John 1:12).

When we enter into relationship with him, He forgives us, for everything, for good. We enjoy the depth of His teachings. We mature in Him. We walk in and with Him by the Spirit. We have the capacity for holiness. We are no longer slaves but free! We are not under law, but grace. We are not illegitimate, but adopted into the family of God. We are not under the curse, but the blessing. We have peace with God. We have comfort in sorrows. We have family by faith. Because of Him, we can face the horrible, forgive the unforgivable, believe the impossible, endure the unbearable and overcome the insurmountable.

The Old Book says, “His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness” (2 Peter 1:3). Oh He truly does make everything New! The thing that is most incredible to me about all of this is when a person allows Christ to change their heart. When the heart of stone becomes soft and teachable, when bitter becomes forgiving, when closed becomes open, when wounded becomes healed, when anger becomes happy, when hateful becomes loving—this is Him making us new.

telemicus out

In the movie, Leatherheads, there is a scene where the Duluth Bulldogs are playing a “Mud Bowl” type game against Chicago. It’s the end of the game and Duluth has to have a trick play to win. So Dodge Conner (George Clooney) uses one play to take out one of Chicago’s players, and trades places with him as they carry him off the field. Because mud covered every player on both teams, no one notices. This means that Dodge is covering his own man. The perfect distraction—Duluth wins!

Distractions can be good. We all need something to take our minds off the dragons that have us in turmoil or tangled in details. But, when there is a pressing matter that needs our attention, distractions can render us ineffective and waste our opportunities.

In Mark chapter 9, Jesus spent some time on a mountain with Moses and Elijah. Peter, James and John were also at this meeting and as they returned to the town, they found the other nine Apostles engaged in an argument with the teachers of the Law. Jesus says, “What are you arguing about?” Out of the crowd a man speaks up and says, “Teacher, I brought you my son, who is possessed by an evil spirit . . . I asked your disciples to drive out the spirit, but they could not” (Mark 9:17-18).

There you have it. The father brings his son, tormented by an evil spirit and because the Apostles were not spiritually prepared to face this evil spirit, they could not cast it out. Instead of dealing with their own spiritual weakness, taking the boy to a private place to minister to him, taking him to Jesus so that He could cast it out, instead of any other course of action, they got into a shouting match with the teachers of the Law about the fact that they couldn’t cast out this evil spirit.

And the Enemy wins.

What frustrated Jesus here is not the evil spirit. You can see that by the way he dealt with it that is was not a giant battle for him. No, what frustrated Jesus was the unbelief and the lack of preparedness in his own followers. For while his disciples argued about their own efficacy and power, a boy still was being tortured.

We see this in politics, where those we elect go and fight with one another on Capitol Hill and the talk shows, while ignoring the real people who need help. They say their fighting for us, but it’s rarely about us. It happens in churches too. While people need to know the love and forgiveness of God, “leaders” argue about what they want or don’t want to happen. I wonder . . . if Jesus walked into our building or attended one of our meetings, would he say, “Keep up the good work?” or “What are you arguing about?”

telemicus out

I wish I were different. I’m not good at acting or sounding religious. I don’t say spiritual things and if on occasion I do, it seems about as natural as wearing scuba flippers on a bicycle. I’m certainly a believer, but I don’t think I’m good at it. I pray, but those prayers do not resonate with confidence. It seems to me I rarely know what God really wants. How should I know! He’s God and I’m as far from that as anyone should want to be.

Folks like me are honest with Him. When we mess up, we say so. We apologize, ask forgiveness and state our plan for changing. We beg when desperate. We know when things are totally in His hands. It seems like He says, “No” to me a lot. I’m not complaining. He is just and his judgments are right. I’m just explaining how I feel about all this. Those who never struggle with the “No’s” baffle people like me. Those who have a grand faith really break my heart, because I feel so weak and inadequate in their presence.

Have you ever struggled with the idea that some of God’s children that are simply not favored? (Some of my strong friends would say, “This is why you experience these tough times.) Perhaps—but I don’t resent God for being who He is or feeling the way He does. I believe He loves me, forgives me, saved me and will invite me into heaven when this deal is over. I belong to Christ. What else can I say?

I believe that God is good and capable of anything He wishes to accomplish. If He says no to any of His children, it’s because it suits His purpose and is best. The Old Book says, “Love does not seek its own.” I love Him, so I do not make demands. I pour out my prayers and trust He will do right by me. And when I beg for His help, like the dad in Mark 9, I say, “If you can, please help me.” Then He tells me, “All things are possible for the one who believes.” At that moment, I fall at His feet and proclaim, “I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief.” (vs. 24).

I don’t have great faith; but my doubts aren’t about God, His righteousness, grace or power. I struggle with my own stumbling faith; that my needs or desires matter to Him. I’m a dad. I know what it’s like when your child asks for things that are not what is best. It breaks my heart when things happen in life, that we can never understand on this side, and perhaps even the next. So, like that other dad who professed his faith in Jesus, but just as passionately begged for help to overcome his unbelief, I fall into the arms of a Father who understands me and is utterly trustable.

telemicus out

Earlier this week the family watched the show, “What would you Do?” In this edition, they had a group of college students (actors) publicly hazing fraternity pledges. In one scene, they tied a student to a light pole with plastic wrap and a passerby took out a pocketknife and cut him loose. When it appeared to be going too far, people stepped up and got involved. They repeated the bit with sorority girls and surprisingly, people did not get involved—many simply watched.

In another part of the program, they showed a young, attractive, nicely dressed woman collapse on a busy sidewalk. They ran the experiment many times and people came to her aid within five seconds every time. However, when they repeated the experiment, using what looked like a homeless man; people were far less responsive. While the actor lay on the sidewalk for almost twenty minutes, a homeless woman, powerless to do anything, asked passersby to call for help repeatedly. One man actually stopped and slipped a piece of cardboard under his head (better than walking on by I suppose.)

I heard or read a story some years ago about a child who, upon hearing the story of Mary and Joseph being turned away from the Inn in Bethlehem, said to his mother, “We would help them, wouldn’t we?” We would all like to think that, faced with situations like these; we would step up and do the right thing. A friend commented on Facebook this week that she wished John Quinones (the host of “What Would You Do?”) would come to her town and test her. In our living rooms, it’s easy to know what we would do.

We lived in some apartments many years ago and early on a Saturday morning I heard a child crying outside. I stepped out on the patio and looked down in the courtyard. Wearing only a diaper and t-shirt with no shoes, a toddler stood—lost, cold and scared. I ran down and tried to talk to him, but he wasn’t old enough to tell me anything beyond crying for his mommy.

I was afraid to pick him up. I was afraid to take him into our apartment, but I knew I had to help him. (I know it sounds like a no brainer, but we live in a time where things are complicated.) So I took him by the hand and we walked through the property. I found an apartment with the door standing open; a woman was sprawled on the couch while another baby screamed in a playpen. I knocked on the door and when she woke up, she was mad at me for having her son. I explained that I found him wondering in another section of the complex. She took the boy, scolded him and slammed the door.

We see people all the time that need our help, whether they deserve it or not. Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40). We would help them, wouldn’t we?

telemicus out

In a preview clip from the new Daniel Craig film DEFIANCE, there is a line that has sort of hung on to me since I saw it. The movie is the true story of four brothers who defied the Nazi army during World War II. The Bielski family live in the area called Belarus. When their parents and other family members are killed, Tuvia Bielski (Daniel Craig) and his brothers hid in the forest.

In time, a small group of Jewish refugees joins them in hiding. This little band of resistors survives as best they can and the group continues to grow. The Bielski Partisans become a significant pain for the Nazi’s. The regime offered 100,000 Riechmarks for assistance in capturing Tuvia. The Bielski group lived in the forest for more than 2 years and at the end, the little group numbered more than 1200.

I want to take my son to see this film. He needs to hear the stories of those who stand against tyranny, oppression and hate. We live in a time when some people think that you can talk and reason with irrational hate filled people who have no agenda beyond the destruction of their enemies. The Bielski Partisans were lovers of freedom. They didn’t want to fight, but fight they did.

Caleb mentioned a few days ago, that he had a friend that was “anti-war”. I took the opportunity to explain that everyone should be anti-war. But there are times when wars must be fought. Evil exists and it doesn’t listen to reason and compromise. When a thing is evil, (racism, violence against innocence, lawlessness, etc.) then we must face it and defeat it. We cannot make deals with it.

So what was the great line that so grabbed me? Tuvia is addressing the people in the forest and he says to them. “Everyday that we live in freedom is an act of faith.” This is true in the political sense of course. But it is also true spiritually. The message of Christ and the gospel is a message of freedom.

The Old Book says, “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery” (Galatians 5:1). He set us free from sin, death, self-justification, law and the judgment of others. Does sin still attack us, does death still claim our loved ones, do we still get caught up in “doing enough” to be worthy, do we still become rule focused, do others still try to convince us that we don’t measure up? Of course, but we are free from it all in Christ and he wants us to live free… Every day that we live in freedom is an act of faith.

telemicus out

Two weeks ago, I took my daughter to see the movie, Australia. Despite what the critics had to say, we thought it was a great movie. I encourage you to set aside three hours and go see it. The primary characters are Lady Ashley (Sarah), an aristocratic English woman, Drover an Australian cowboy and Nullah a half white, half Aborigines boy.

The story line is that Lady Ashley’s husband has gone to Australia to work a cattle ranch he bought. After not hearing from him, she leaves England to find her husband with intentions of selling the ranch and returning home. The boy, Nullah lives on the ranch with his mother. Drover works as a cowboy on the ranch.

The boy spends time with his grandfather, a native called King George. The grandfather teaches him the customs and ways of the Aborigines. Nullah lives in two worlds. During this time, boys who were mixed breeds were gathered together and sent to Missions where they were taught Christianity and had the savage “bled” out of them. Nullah often “made himself invisible” in order to prevent capture.

Lady Ashley’s husband is killed before she arrives. She hires Drover to help her deliver the cattle. Nullah also serves as a cowboy. Eventually Nullah and Lady Ashley grow close, but in time he explains that the time is coming for his “Walkabout”. Lady Ashley forbids it, but King George beckons. Drover explains that Nullah has to go. It is the Walkabout that gives an Aborigines male his identity, his purpose. He tells her, “If he doesn’t go he will never know who he really is. He wont belong in the white mans world and he wont belong in theirs. He won’t have his dreams. He won’t know his story.”

The Walkabout is a spiritual journey to a “belonging place”. It is where the young males connect spiritually to the land, it is here that they learn the songs that lead them, and it gives him his dreams and his voice in the world. It is the path to a belonging place.

Should 2009 to be the year of your Walkabout? It seems we will invest time and money in improving our golf game, dance steps, physical fitness, nails, hair and psyche, but will we invest time and money in the spiritual journey of discovering our “belonging place?” I have a goal to take some time, perhaps several days for solitude and to walk. I need to discover my dreams again, to learn the songs of direction and to reconnect to the Earth. I want to find my voice in the world, to recapture my story. I need to find my belonging place.

The Old Book says that Jesus often stayed in lonely places and prayed. Make 2009 the year of your Walkabout. Take the Lord Jesus along because wherever the Walkabout may take us, it’s in Him that we discover our voice, learn our songs, write our stories and connect to what truly matters. He is our Belonging Place.

telemicus out