Lukewarm No More - The Puddleglum Argument

I am done being lukewarm. 

That statement may surprise some of you who know me well. Maybe I'm wrong, and you've seen through my veneer, but I'm guessing many/most of you would say, "Matt? Lukewarm?"

Yes. L.U.K.E.W.A.R.M. Lukewarm. And I'm done.  

Today I went to counseling. I go to counseling because, honestly, there's a lot in my life right now that sucks. And I want to be ok. And I want to be able to help our kids be ok. And the counselor I have at the Barnabas Center is incredible, so this may be one of the best investments I've ever made. 

So while I was at counseling today, we were talking about how everything seems to be going wrong and how hurt, frustrated, confused, and angry I am about it. But I was saying that no matter how bad things seem to be, part of what makes it hard is that people want to comfort me by telling me that it's going to be ok. The reason it's annoying is that the reality that life is going to be ok is the one thing I know for sure, and I want permission to feel bad about how ridiculously "country song" my life is now without acting as if I'm comforted by knowing that it's going to be ok. I mean, I am comforted by knowing that it's going to be ok. That's established. But there's still pain in the present, and I want people to accept that with me and walk with me anyway. 

As we were beginning to talk about these things, I was also sharing with my counselor that there are some opportunities and people who give me hope that my life could be really great soon, now, in the present. I've got some amazing friends. I've got people trying to help me find work, including people who are aiming to get me some really GOOD work. And I even went into this counseling appointment with an interview lined up for the afternoon, an appointment at 2 p.m. A sign of hope, not just for the who-knows-when future, but for today and tomorrow. For now. 

And I'm not kidding you, but less than 10 minutes into my counseling appointment, I got a phone call. I took the call, hoping for more good news (when you're applying to jobs, you take calls. That's just how it is for me). But - you're not going to believe this - it was the hiring manager calling to inform me that the company, instead of really looking forward to my interview and anticipating my hiring, had actually decided not to add the position I was applying for after all. 

You know those times when you know you shouldn't cuss, but it just seems really, really appropriate? 

We spent the rest of the counseling session just grappling with how I don't seem to be able to catch a break. I even applied for a McDonald's job recently - at a new McDonald's that didn't have any employees yet - and didn't get a call. That's how bad it is. And remember, I'm not saying this in the idea that I have no future hope. I'm just saying that life right now is pretty consistently ridiculous. I have great moments, but the overall picture is getting really, really tiresome. 

So what's that have to do with my being lukewarm?

So glad you asked. As I drove home from counseling, for the first couple of minutes I reflected on how certain I am that things will one day be fine again. I am certain of that as a Christian. But if I was an atheist, I'd be just as certain (and I don't entertain even the possibility of anything being true aside from Christianity and atheism - those are the only two options that make sense to me). From the Christian perspective, I'm going to be fine because the God I serve has demonstrated His love for me through Jesus' death on the cross, and no matter what happens, I know He's both going to take care of me throughout this life and then, beyond this life, heaven's waiting. LIfe's only going to get better. From the atheistic perspective, I'm going to be fine because I have friends and family who are going to make sure that I have a place to stay and food to eat even if my finances crash through the pit of destruction for a while, and I know that one day I'll be back on my feet - and from the atheistic perspective, even if I'm wrong and somehow things fall apart so badly that I die, who cares? I won't be experiencing pain anymore. So I can maintain a realistic and very optimistic sense of hope for my future, either way. Life is just about certainly going to get better in this life. I'm going to make it. I really don't expect my life to end. I'm so optimistic about my future (even if not my immediate future) in this life that the thought of suicide is ridiculous, and I'm healthy enough to assume that my life is going to continue for quite a while, barring some accident. But either way, whether I look at things from the perspective of a Christian or an atheist, if life does end, I have nothing to worry about. 

Now that's all well and good, but if you think about what I just said, you might be able to see my lukewarmness entering the picture. Sure, I've chosen to continue living as a Christian. Sure, I argue its case and believe that it's a smarter pick than atheism. Sure, I live my Christianity with integrity, for the most part, and I put my efforts into promoting Jesus. But look how much of my hope for the future is based in the possibility of atheism. In that paragraph, at least, it's about equal to the amount of my future hope that is based in Christianity. 

That's scary to me. 

Because as I looked at how this job interview suddenly slipped through my fingers, I literally considered my life from both perspectives. If Christianity is right, then God had something to do with it, and it's personal. He took the job away from me for a reason, presumably something better that He has in store for me sooner or later. So I can move forward with hope. If atheism is right, then the job interview just disappeared because that's what happened, and my chances for the future are just as good as ever, so I might as well keep moving forward with expectation, looking for whatever it is that is sure to turn up sooner or later that won't slip through my fingers. Either way, life will be fine someday, even if it sucks today. 

Do you see the lukewarm written all over me? I do. And as I realized it, some convictions began to work their way into my heart. The idea began to grow that, though God might have had other reasons that I'm not imagining for allowing this job interview to get away, perhaps He did it just so that I would see how lukewarm I am and throw myself fully into His embrace. Not that throwing myself fully into His embrace guarantees that I'll get a job tomorrow, but still. 

So then as I continued driving home, I put the speakerphone on and called my parents. Mom answered, and we talked about some of the things I've been saying already. But then something else became a part of the conversation. Mom reflected on how, when she was in college and my dad's first wife and son were killed in a flood, she was angry with God. And she was attending a class in college where they were studying the book of Job from the Bible. Her secular professor was painting the God of Job as a juvenile, insecure, "I have to prove my glory to you" kind of deity. And I realized that part of the reason I keep comparing how my life looks from the perspective of both Christianity and atheism is that I feel that way about God sometimes, too. What if He's so insecure and petty that He is allowing me to go through this mess just so that I'll admit He's really amazing because of how He turns things around in the end? 

Then it hit me. The God of Christianity is so glorious that this kind of pettiness is ridiculous and can't possibly apply to Him. If He's as glorious and wonderful as the Bible claims, to the extent that one day "every knee will bow and every tongue will confess" it, then He's not trying to milk more praise out of His people through either good times or bad times. He doesn't need it. He simply is glorious, and one day all of creation will realize it and bow in amazement. 

So why does He focus on teaching us His glory, if He knows we're going to acknowledge it someday anyway? Here's why: because He wants us to experience His glory in the best possible way we will allow. Some of us won't permit ourselves to experience His glory hardly at all in this life, and the glory of His justice and righteousness is going to scream from our lips even from the pits and fires of hell. But God tells us that this is not what He wants for us. It is far better for us to know and experience His glory now, to confess it now, to adore Him now and trust Him now, so that for the rest of eternity we will praise His glorious mercy as we experience the fullness of His joys in heaven. So He brings us through trials in this life, even knowing that we will question His goodness and mock His kindness and ridicule His character as "petty" and "juvenile", because He cares about us and wants us to recognize and experience Him as glorious now, and not just in the future. For our sakes, not His. He's going to get His dues from us no matter what. Yet He still intervenes in ways that feel good and ways that feel bad… for our good.

Wow. God's not petty. He's kind. "Faithful are the wounds of a friend, but deceitful are the kisses of an enemy" (Proverbs 27:6, NASB). 

So back to my lukewarmness. Why have I sat there in tepid, lukewarm waters for so long when I have such a good God? The first answer is, "Because I'm stupid." But really, what's my motivation been? 

I think a lot of it has had to do with my desire to be reasonable and to keep communication lines open with those I disagree with by trying to see things through their eyes. But it's been more than that, I think. When I examine myself honestly, my doubts and fears about Christianity scare me, despite all the evidence I have for its truth. What if the only other option I consider to be viable - atheism - is true? Will my life have been a total waste? These motivations make me constantly want to guard myself as if I'm playing a giant game of chess with my life's purpose, never wanting to make a move without knowing that if it costs me something, I still have back up. I want to play the game of life so that if my Christianity piece falls through, at least I can still win with my atheist piece. I want to win, either way. Perhaps you understand what I'm saying and have been tempted into lukewarmness, too. I hope not, but perhaps.

So what is breaking me out of this lukewarmness? Crazily enough, it's thoughts that are best summed up in the arguments of a fantasy creature from Narnia - Puddleglum the Marshwiggle, to be precise. I've written about his thoughts before (and still managed to be lukewarm - I hope that doesn't continue), but just to set the context, Puddleglum, a prince, and some children have been captured by a witch who lives underground. She is trying to maintain control over them and actually persuade them to submit to her leadership by convincing them that the sun, Aslan the lion (the God figure in this story), and many other wonderful realities are mere figments of their imaginations based on lesser goods that they can readily find in her underground world, such as a lamp and a cat. The small group is almost persuaded. They have definitely been lulled into what could be called a temporary state of lukewarmness, where they are still trying to believe in the greater things, like Aslan and the sun, but where those things honestly don't seem as real to them at the moment as the lamp and the cat in the witch's underground world. They're thinking about living a compromised life even as they try to convince the witch that they are right about Aslan, the sun, and everything else. 

And then Puddleglum has a moment of inspiration (I'm only going to include his words here, and not any descriptions in the passage): 

One word, Ma'am. One word. All you've been saying is quite right, I shouldn't wonder. I'm a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won't deny any of what you said. But there's one thing more to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things--trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that's a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We're just babies making up a game, if you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. That's why I'm going to stand by the play-world. I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia. So, thanking you kindly for our supper, if these two gentlemen and the young lady are ready, we're leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend our lives looking for Overland. Not that our lives will be very long, I should think; but that's small loss if the world's as dull a place as you say.

Now here's the thing. The witch has been able to dull their senses and reasoning to the point where they're questioning the reality of the sun and stars and Aslan, but the reality in this story is that they actually have experienced all of those things. This statement looks like faith without evidence, but it's really evidence-based faith confronting confusing and mind-numbing arguments. That's part of why I wouldn't use this passage to defend, say, Buddhism, Islam, or Hinduism. I don't think the evidence supports any of those religions. At all. But the evidence for Christianity is really strong. So don't hear me saying I've decided to take a leap of evidence-less faith. 

Here's what I'm saying. I see the evidence for atheism, too. But even though I think the evidence for Christianity is stronger, I have become lukewarm in the way that I live out my Christianity - internally, not externally - for all the reasons I mentioned above - especially to have people trust that I really do understand the atheist perspective and (what's worse) to have a backup strategy for winning the game of life if Jesus Christ somehow falls through. 

But when it comes down to it, there's still a huge gap between the two perspectives. Let's say that both of them have an almost equal chance of being rationally defensible, and that I'm right when I say that I'll be ok in the future whether I'm a Christian or an atheist. I would still rather live the kind of life that I'm compelled to live as a Christian. The Christian life is far richer than the atheistic life. 

• On hopes - atheism permits a hope of a decent or even amazing life in the present and peace (through non-existence) after death; Christianity compels hope not only that Jesus cares for us now, but that the future will be eternally amazing.
• On joys - atheism permits an experience of joy in the present, but it's really tough to experience joy when things go badly; Christianity gives a basis for a constant joy even in the worst imaginable sufferings.
• On morals - atheism permits (but does not demand) people to live really upright and moral lives for the sake of personal fulfillment and being able to think of themselves as good people; Christianity compels us to pursue good for others and provides for that good through God's own Holy Spirit, inviting us to join God in His goodness forever (as imperfectly as we accomplish that goal between now and Jesus' return). 
• On freedoms - atheism sometimes permits freedoms and sometimes doesn't, but when it does permit freedom, that freedom is based in letting everyone have a chance of enjoying their own lives as much as possible before death; Christianity has sometimes been guilty of restricting and abusing people's freedoms, but the nature of Christianity is to recognize that no one is truly free because we all choose a path that restricts us, whether that path follows God or Satan or our own philosophies, and to extend the freedom to choose our paths to all those around us just as God has given us the freedom to choose Him or not. In other words, in Christianity the basis for freedom is not just a hope that we won't step on each other's toes; it's a fundamental part of the nature of reality as God designed it to be: people should be free to choose their paths, even if it's a wrong path that enslaves them to do wrong things. 

I could go on and on, and I'm sure that throughout my life I will, but you get the idea. I'm done with lukewarmness. I'm done with making sure that I'll win the game of life whether I'm a Christian or not. I'm done with worrying about whether people think I've swallowed the "I don't need evidence" pill. I'm done with worrying about whether people are going to reject my arguments for various moral causes just because I'm a Christian. Christianity has better evidence than atheism anyway. But when you compare the God of Christianity with the godlessness of atheism, the richness and warmth and fulfillment found in a life that follows God wholeheartedly is beyond anything atheism can even begin to dream up. I've got evidence that leads me to believe Christianity is true, and I have experienced my risen Lord in many ways. But from now on, I pray that even when my mind is muddled by the deceitfulness that creeps in when I encounter arguments that I'm not sure how to answer and events that are hard to handle, I will say with Puddleglum:

[I'm] leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend [my life] looking for [God's gifts and blessings and companionship]. Not that [my life] will be very long, I should think; but that's small loss if the world's as dull a place as you say.

Lord Jesus, help me. I don't want to follow You just because of the abundant evidence. I don't want to follow You just as a strategy for winning the game of life. I don't want to have a back up plan that comforts me if I'm wrong about you. I want to follow You because You are my life in every way. Guard me from following You for any lesser reason, and from worrying about a back up plan. If I lose You, I lose a far more savory and sweet and rich life than I gain. Please, just let me be fully Yours.  

Freedom of Conscience Guillotine

Just in case anyone was wondering what I think about the current political situation. Feel free to share, because I honestly think that if we don't defend other people's freedom of conscience, we shouldn't be surprised to find our own freedom of conscience eroding away.

Blogophobia

So, I still am not blogging much. Hmmmm... What's going on?

I think the answer is: FEAR. Yep. Seems about right.

What do I have to be afraid of? Well, as you might expect, Christy and I are not as close as I'd like us to be. And basically, I'm afraid of making things worse.

I'm afraid of embarrassing Christy.

I'm afraid of making her look like a jerk.

I'm afraid of making myself look like a jerk.

I'm afraid that something I say might ruin any chances that exist (however remote they may seem to be) for Christy to return to Jesus.

What else am I afraid of? Yes, there actually is more.

I'm afraid of sharing any benefits of our separation, because I'm afraid that people might turn around and justify pursuing separation and divorce if I admit (or even worse, seem grateful for) aspects of having "daylight" between us - sorry, had to throw in a political reference just because we're getting into November.

I'm afraid of exploring my best attempts at leading our family toward Jesus and finding out that I was actually a terrible leader motivated more by self-interest than by a delight in Jesus and His ways.

I'm afraid of the criticisms I'm bound to generate if I'm open about my thoughts and decisions, and I'm also afraid of the relational damage I could create in both my own relationships and the relationships of others if I'm too open.

I'm afraid of what people might tell our kids about me, or about their mom. I want them to always feel free to love and appreciate us both, and I want them to know the full truth some day... but I want to guard for them an atmosphere of grace that allows them to respond to both Christy and me graciously. And I'm afraid that might be impossible.

So what am I supposed to do with these fears? After all, "God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind" (2 Timothy 1:7, NKJV). The purpose for living in God's power, love and sound mind is most importantly that we should be not ashamed, but ready with the "testimony of our Lord" (2 Timothy 1:8). And that's the primary goal of my blogging, or at least, what it is supposed to be: to tell people how good Jesus is and has been to me.

So do I need to be afraid? No. I do not need to be afraid...

... of embarrassing Christy or making her look like a jerk, because that's not what I should be doing with the blog anyway. I can speak discreetly and still seek to honor her, giving just enough context for people to see Jesus' goodness in the midst of some trying times.

... of making myself look like a jerk, because the point of my blogging isn't to impress you people with how amazing I am. It's to help you see how amazing Jesus is.

... of ruining Christy's chances of returning to Jesus, because her hope of returning to Him is not in my hands. Her hope is based in Jesus' own pursuit of her (whether she currently believes it or not). Good thing, too, because He's a lot more persuasive, loving, faithful and reliable than I am. Considering that He's already hung on a cross to offer both Christy and me His salvation, why should anyone think He's going to give up now?

... of providing a justification (through separation-related benefits that I'm grateful for) for other people to pursue their own separations/divorces. If this blog is helping people to see Jesus, hear from Him, and honor Him, then those who read it should know that my life is far too tainted to serve as any kind of justification for dishonoring Jesus deliberately. Jesus is the standard, not me.

... of finding out that I've actually led - not "lead," as I see so many bloggers writing these days. Led is past tense of the verb, "to lead." But "lead," when pronounced the same as "led," is actually a noun that serves as the name of a metal that has often been used in plumbing. Sorry, pet peeve. - that I've led my family poorly and made foolish decisions, and then having other people chime in with their criticisms of me, too. It shouldn't be a news flash to anyone, including me, that I fall short (and yet even as I write this the pride in me wants to insist, "But I don't fall short compared to others, just compared to Jesus!" Yeah... right...), fail and sin. Where's my hope come from? Escaping my own criticism and yours? No. "Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies" (Romans 8:33, NIV). Oh, right. THAT's where I find solid hope. Crazy, but true. God justifies me in spite of me. I guess I can face up to finding out about the gaps in my character and discernment, then.

... of having my kids hear truths about me and Christy that tempt them to dishonor either of us. First, they already realize at least now and then that we aren't perfect (if anyone has noticed our separation, it's our kids). Second, they also see firsthand our attempts to treat one another with respect and friendship. Third, I will never stop encouraging them to love, respect, and enjoy the mother God gave them. And finally, they are going to have to learn to depend on Jesus Christ just like I have to depend on Him, including learning how to love and honor fallen human authorities out of love for Jesus. In other words, Jesus' grace is big enough not just to help me, but to help my kids, too. If I believe that, I do not need to be afraid.

I'm committing to blog more frequently. I should be specific, but I really don't want to, because I don't want to be accountable right now. So how about I start with once a week?

And I'll set aside my fear, even though it may still be clutching at my heart, to write with courage about my experiences. There's a fine line sometimes between courage and folly, so I will continue to pray for discernment in what I write. But mostly I pray that this blog helps whoever reads it to see that Jesus is faithful not just when life seems to be glory and perfection, but when it's in tatters, too. And one way I think you'll see His faithfulness show itself through me is this: He's helping me to overcome my fears.

Faked into Readiness

On Tuesday, Christy got in touch with me. Michael had been crying for two hours, his ear hurt, and he didn't want to go to school. She was going to need some help from me, which - fortunately - I could actually offer that day. A little bit later she told me that, within minutes of giving Michael some tylenol, he had decided that he did, in fact, want to go to school. Which made me smirk a little bit. What a turn-around!

At the same time, I didn't know whether there was really an ear problem going on or not. It had only been minutes after giving Michael the Tylenol that he had decided he felt better. Was that too quick? Or did the medicine actually kick in that quickly? How genuine was his ear pain? I needed to be prepared. So I went to the store and bought Michael some ear drops, just in case.

I still don't know whether his morning pain was genuine or not. Regardless, it never came back.

But this morning at 5:45, Emma rushed into my room. Her ear was throbbing with pain. And because I had been faked into buying ear medicine for Michael three days earlier, I was ready.

I wonder who in the world could care about us enough to fake us into readiness? Hmmm...

Separated

So... For those of you who haven't had a clue about things in my family life lately... Surprise! And probably not the kind of surprise that will be all that encouraging to you, either. Christy and I signed a separation agreement months ago (June) and tonight she moved permanently into her new apartment.

A big part of the reason that I haven't been blogging much is that I've been afraid I might say something I shouldn't, and I've been trying to give our relationship every shot I could. But now that we've not only signed an agreement, but physically separated (which makes it a bit more public than before), I feel like I can answer some questions I expect to hear from people over time. So here's a start.

1. What happened? - Answer) I'm not going to tell you everything, but here's a basic outline. Most of us have questions about different aspects of our faith, questions that are challenging and generate doubts. Following our departure from Swanton Alliance Church (January-February 2011), Christy did some research related to some of her doubts. Her research persuaded her to move from a supernatural view of the world to a naturalistic view (May 2011), so she no longer believed in the divinity of Jesus because she no longer believed in any god. Once she told me about her new outlook (July 2011), she and I struggled to figure out what the implications were for our relationship. Both of us had every intention of staying married. But between our huge worldview/spiritual differences and some personality clashes we've always had, our relationship dissolved to the point that once Christy had gone public with her atheism (November 13th, 2011) it was only one more day until divorce was in our plans (November 14th, 2011). After that, there was a period where our direction was toward divorce, but there were still discussions about reconsidering things (through January 2012). Since then, it has been pretty clear that we are headed for divorce. Here in North Carolina, a divorce requires a one-year separation period first. So the separation agreement was signed in June.

2. How are you doing? - Answer) Surprisingly well. That's not to make light of what's going on. But I've had so long to work through my emotions that I'm not in shock anymore, and I can see light ahead of me. The first few months of realizing what was happening were an absolute nightmare. But God has provided old friends who got in touch with me, new friends (especially through the church we began attending in summer 2011), time for emotional healing, several avenues for great counsel and mentoring, and a prospective new job.

3. How are the kids doing? - Answer) Surprisingly well. We told them a couple of weeks ago that we are divorcing. We didn't bother telling them that we're "just separating" because we decided that we would rather just have them think of us as having ended our marriage rather than have to tell them we "might" end our marriage, but we "might not" (and then tell them later that things didn't work out). If things ever work out so that we get back together, it will be good news for them regardless of whether they thought we were "only separated" or "divorcing." So we kept it simple and told them we're divorcing. And we made sure that we told them that we would both continue to love them and be their parents, and even that we would be friends (which seems surprisingly possible). They have responded really well. The youngest seems to have no clue what's going on. Of the other two, one has pretty much asked no questions at all since our talk and is just excited about getting a bunk bed when staying at mommy's house. The other has asked many questions and likes some of the possibilities while not liking others.

4. How is Christy doing? - Answer) First of all, yes, I care enough about her that you're allowed to show that you care about her when you're in my presence, so this question is fine. As to how she's doing, she's torn. She's doing really well as a businesswoman and is really enjoying motherhood. But she's worried for our children as they experience our separation/divorce (even though she's happy that they seem to be responding so well), and the divorce itself bothers her in ways that I should probably let her express for herself to those of you who know her. But let me just take the opportunity to say here that, apart from the separation/divorce itself, the process we're going through is rather amicable and friendly. We haven't fought over our kids because we both want them to have access to both their parents. And we haven't been fighting over our stuff, either. We're trying to treat one another well, partially just because we both care about being kind and partially because we recognize that we have kids who shouldn't have to side with one parent against another.

5. How's your faith doing? - Answer) Let me re-phrase that question for you: "How's my relationship with Jesus doing?" I never lost it. Rather, He never lost hold of me. He is amazingly faithful. There were some very volatile periods, but I may have to share those details some other time. 

6. Can I still be friends with Christy? - Answer) If you were friends with Christy before, then feel free to keep being her friend without feeling like you're betraying me or something like that. If you weren't really friends with her before, please don't be weird and try to reach out to her right now just because you've learned about our separation. On the other hand, if somehow you wind up in the same circles and develop a friendship naturally, that's great. We don't really want our friends to have to choose sides any more than we want that for our kids.

7. How can I help? - Answer) I'm really not sure. You'd have to ask Christy to get her answers. And my answers at this point mostly revolve around our kids. I won't have Christy here to cook supper for them anymore, so if you have any favorite healthy recipes for kids, send them to me (thanks in advance). Also, if you have any great ideas for fun things to do with kids here in Charlotte, I'll be happy to hear about those, too. But mostly, I've been realizing that Jesus gave me people who care about me, people like you, and that your friendships are probably the most valuable gifts you could ever give me -- whether you ever have the opportunity to help me out in more practical ways or not. It has been amazing to me to see how Jesus has had friends from the past step into my life in the present (usually at times when I wasn't expecting to hear from them) to re-fuel me with hope for the future. At the risk of forgetting some of the friends who have been enormously encouraging throughout this experience, I would just like to publicly thank Jared Kennedy, Kyle Lange, Allen Pierson, Will Johnson, Will and Rachel Gray, Trent and Elizabeth Deloach, Nathan Ivey, David Love, theGathering (my church) leadership, my community group, David Broome and Brad Trosen. But if your name wasn't here, please don't feel snubbed. I can't tell you how many times I have breathed a prayer of gratitude for the friends Jesus has placed in my life.

8. Why am I posting this publicly? - Answer) I hope to begin blogging more again. I'm not sure that my blog posts will be quite as focused on devotional thoughts as before. We'll see. Maybe they will. But I can't help myself when I'm blogging: I express who I am. So I thought it would be appropriate for people to have an updated profile of who I am and where I'm coming from. I doubt that the entire blog will shift to a focus on being separated/divorced. But some of it will. And so I'll be exploring questions and thoughts that I may not have even imagined before. Now you'll know why.

9. Is this going to become a gripe-fest? - Answer) No... Wait, I'm human... Maybe. But I don't want it to. So if you see it turning into a gripe-fest, or if you see me making negative comments about Christy or something like that, please call me on it. In the comments. Or if you know my phone number, call me up directly. I'll wrestle with my emotions from time to time, but I hope to wrestle in such a way that I show only the conflict between one set of my emotions and another, rather than between me and other people.

10. Do you know when Jesus is coming back? - Answer) No. No, I don't. But that's going to be a wonderful day. This experience has revealed to me that I don't care nearly enough about it being a wonderful day for everyone. So let's pray together that Jesus would fill our hearts with the kind of concern for others that genuinely loves them as friends and that takes us from wanting people to go to heaven because "we're supposed to" all the way to wanting them in heaven because we know them, love them, and would miss them terribly if they weren't there with us.

Last night when I was putting the boys to bed, I had a moment while I was praying. My son Michael was clutching my hand and leaning across my chest. I could sense how much he just wanted to be sure that he was a valued part of my life. And I sensed a deep parallel in my relationship with my God, my heavenly Father. Here is a loose paraphrase of the Lord’s Prayer that came to me. If it is encouraging for you in some way, wonderful. I hope it is.

Our Father in Heaven

Dad, I want you. Your life seems so big and important, and I don’t understand it all. I feel really little and helpless compared to you. But you’re my Dad, and I know you love me. Can I say something? Please?

Hallowed be Your Name

You’re the best dad ever! All my friends know it. They should, anyways. There’s no one like you. You’re amazing!

Your Kingdom Come, Your Will Be Done on Earth as it is in Heaven

I know that you can handle anything. Nothing’s ever too hard for you. And the people you spend time with and work with are pretty incredible, too. It seems like none of you ever messes up. But what about me? Can I help you somehow? I want to be part of what you’re doing. Maybe I can pour the water? Set the table? Crack the eggs for the brownies? Mix them? I would love for things to be just as amazing and perfect here with me as they seem to be when you’re working with your friends. Can you teach me?

Give Us Today Our Daily Bread

I know you take care of my meals all the time, and my clothes, and even my toys and stuff. But still, I kind of think about them… all the time. How do you do it? How do you make sure that I always get what I need? I have no clue how to do that, and it makes me worried that perhaps someday you’ll forget that I need something and I won’t be able to take care of it for myself. Please don’t forget me. I love how you take care of me. Please keep it up. I’m getting a bit hungry right now, actually.

Forgive Us Our Debts as We Have Forgiven Our Debtors

And, um, Dad? I messed up. I left a big mess of crackers all over my chair from the last snack you gave me. And some marker on the wall. And I think I ripped one of my books. You might want to check it out. I’m sorry. Would you forgive me? I mean, you always tell me to forgive my friends. And my little brother. You won’t even let me go and play until I forgive them. So it seems like forgiveness is really important to you. Could you forgive me, just like you make me forgive everyone else?

And Lead Us Not Into Temptation

And something else. Could you help me? I don’t want to leave messes and stuff. Maybe next time I have snack you could sit with me and show me how to do a better job of keeping the crumbs on my plate. Or maybe you could stay in the same room when I’m drawing. I’m just little. I know I’m not supposed to draw on the walls. I know I’m supposed to be more careful with my books. But I get excited. Sometimes the pictures in my head are bigger than the paper, and I just want to draw them the way I see them in my brain. And sometimes I’m so excited about the pictures on one page that I just want to see the next page as fast as I can. So I forget. I forget what I’m supposed to do. But you could be there to keep me from forgetting. I want to make you happy. Could you help me? I’m not very good at doing what I’m supposed to by myself sometimes. I don’t want to mess up.

But Deliver Us From the Evil One

Besides, there are some guys who give me other ideas sometimes. Especially this one guy. Everyone says he’s being bad. But he looks like he’s having so much fun. And I want to have fun like he does. I mean, I don’t, because it’s bad. But I kind of do. He makes people laugh. But when I do the things he shows me how to do, I get in trouble. My friends don’t seem to like me as much sometimes. And you get upset, too. So I really need you to help me learn to do the kinds of things that make you happy. That’s what I want. I want to make you happy. I need you to help me when you see him coming down the street. Tell him I can’t come play so that I don’t keep doing bad things with him. I feel bad saying no to him. But if you say no for me, then he won’t make me feel like I need to do what he says.

For Yours is the Kingdom, and the Power, and the Glory Forever and Ever. Amen.

You really are amazing. You make everything perfect for me. I love you, and I love being with you. No one else is as awesome as you are. You really are the best dad ever. So I want to be like you. And I want to learn from you. And I want to help you, and to have you take care of me. I want to be with you and make you happy. All the time. Really. I always want to be with you. Always. Ok? Anyway, that’s what I wanted to say. What do you think?

Note: I have obviously been less than consistent about posting devotional thoughts for a while now, so I’m not going to claim that I’ll be consistent for the next few months, or that the blog will be centered around a certain theme (it was supposed to deal with faith-stretching verses this year). I just hope that these thoughts are still an encouragement to you, whenever they come your way.  

No Justification

So it's been quite a while since I last wrote, and it may be quite a while again. Maybe not. I'm getting the itch to write more frequently.

But I'm here today. Because there's a thought that has been going through my mind a lot lately. It's related to some of the struggles I've experienced this year. One of those struggles was leaving Swanton Alliance Church. I wish that our time with these brothers and sisters had gone more smoothly and that we could still be there. And the other has to do with my wife's recent announcement (http://www.simpletruth.me/2011/11/lets-be-honest-folks/), and all the weighty implications of it, too. Between them, there's been a good bit of pain and struggle in my life this year.

And to be honest, I have often felt like blaming people. All kinds of people. Maybe you, if you know me. But that's what I wanted to write about.

As I've watched this year unfold, I've seen reasons to blame my troubles on myself, my wife, my parents, Christy's parents, past churches, friends, etc. I've seen plenty of sins. Now, I can't say for sure that all the struggles I have experienced are the results of the specific sins I've observed. But they could be.

On the other hand, I have seen things happen that seem to justify these sins and choices. I can look back on decisions people made and say, "That was wrong." But then something else happens and it seems to argue in the opposite direction: "Maybe that wasn't such a bad choice after all. Maybe that was done the right way." So which perception is right? Were the things I called sins actually wrong? Or were they right?

I know I'm being rather vague about the things that happened. That's on purpose. I'm not trying to call anyone out or make any public accusations. Instead, I'm grappling with the question, "How can we tell when an action or an attitude is sinful and when it is not?" Or, "How can we prove that we're in the right? How can we justify our actions, even when they don't seem to be good?"

And the conclusion I'm coming to is this: If the Bible says a behavior or attitude is wrong, then it is wrong and sinful. This is true regardless of what future results come about. Future outcomes do not justify past sins. However...

Jesus does. Only Jesus. He is our Justifier. That doesn't mean that He takes all our past sins and makes them right. It means that He takes all our past sins and pays for them by dying for our sins, and at the same time He takes all His righteousness and gives it to us so that we stand before His Father justified. Our sins are not justified. WE are. Because of Jesus.

As I said, I have seen a lot of people's sins pretty clearly this year. My own sins included. And my hope for myself and for all of the other people -- all of the brothers and sisters in Christ whose sins I have seen -- has nothing to do with finding some way to prove that their sins were not actually sins. No such shallow justification provides the hope we all need. My hope for all of us is the justification that came at the price of Jesus' blood. May we all be humble enough to stop trying to justify ourselves in any other way. Let's receive His death- and resurrection-based justification together.

Merry Christmas, everyone. We're receiving quite a gift.