Bringing Faith to Life
Posts tagged freedom
I’m taking the day off
2It's my birthday, so I'm taking the day off from worrying... about the state of the earth, whether it's terminal about the state of the nation, whether it's fixable about the state of our politics, whether they're resolvable. I am exempting myself... from chores unless I want to do them from duties unless I care to accept them from stuff that screams PAY ATTENTION! Worry and responsibility have been distracting me from what it's clear I should be celebrating ... -- the wonderful friends I have found -- a glorious family that abounds -- the generous gifts which resound -- the amazing world all around. Disclaimer: I know full well, it is my privilege to get to choose worry-free; because today no one is depending on me -- for food, for peace, for calm, for life. Even more then the ample reason to give thanks for this reality season; when I can't do what I used to, perhaps so I especially enjoy the things I get to. My pesky pups a'clambering to play On this sunshine-kissed spectacular day, Of course the first thing that I do, Is step right in the dog poo. Eh, shake it off, fertilizer, nothing to lose, For now, I've got another pair of shoes. I wonder how many things I'd worry about less If I trusted I had what's needed to clean up the mess. On this, my birthday in 2023 thank you friends for celebrating with me. I am feeling spectacularly free, a privilege I don't take lightly.
Hold that finish!
0“Behind every good _____, there’s a good ________,” they say. But I say, after every good stroke, there is a good follow through. After every good kick, after every good serve, after every good swing, after every good putt, after every good throw, there is a good follow through. It’s not an accident that a successful effort is followed by a smooth finish.
Of course, the reverse is also generally true: after a poor stroke, there is a poor follow through. Same with kick. Same with serve, swing, putt, and throw. An unsuccessful effort generally shows itself in its wayward finishing flourish, or lack of one.
How we finish says a great deal about our performance. Finish with ease and balance and we’ve likely been accurate and effective. Finish abruptly and off kilter and we’ve likely missed the mark. Stopping short usually spells failure.
On the surface, this seems odd. Shouldn’t our success depend on what happens when we impart the force, impact the projectile or strike the implement? I mean, how much effect can a follow through really have after I’ve already achieved launch?
The key to the great finish is the freedom to “swing for the fences.” The deep breath of release that allows you to unleash full force, to let ‘er rip and see where she lands. This freedom to swing out of your shoes is the object of every amateur’s dreams and the signature of every champion’s finish. For sure, it has been honed over thousands of hours of painstaking attention to alignment, preparation, timing and execution.
Show me a good finish and I’ll tell you who made the putt, threw the strike, split the fairway or cleared the fence nearly every time. We’re meant to complete what we’ve started. To follow a strong start with a strong finish.
Just like our Designer who assures us we can be confident of this, “that the One who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” ~ Phil 1:6
Because the One who put us into motion has planned for our completion, we can swing for the fences without fear of striking out, we can pull full force without fear of falling, we can strike our shot without fear of missing.
Because the finish line ain’t moving. Neither is the fence, the hole, the base or the baseline. We’re meant to keep swinging, free and clear, trusting the outcome, come what may.
We’re not designed to come to a sudden stop. We’re meant to swing and follow through, kick and follow through, throw and follow through, serve and follow through. That’s how we learn to trust ourselves and our practice.
We should have planned this from the beginning. Fortunately, Someone did.
Let it go doesn’t free him, it frees you
0
Let it go doesn’t mean letting him get away with it.
It means you get to get away from it. Away from the anger and the angst. Away from the clenching and clutching. Away from the wrenching of your gut that says, This ain’t right; something needs to change here.
Let it go means you speak your piece and take your leave.
Don’t wait around to see how he reacts. Don’t insist on meeting every objection he musters. And certainly don’t square off to put the gloves on and punch his lights out.
What is to be gained from engaging? Every time before you’ve come away bloodied and bruised. Never have you changed his way of thinking into your way of thinking. Why do you tarry? Speak in staccato. Hit your note and get off of it.
Walk away a free woman. You have brought right to light. Let it do its work, and you go do yours. Go do what you came for. Which isn’t to change him. It’s to change the world. One voice, one word, one soul at a time.
Meet you on the road. Let’s talk about all those ideas that just came rushing into your mind because you are no longer consumed by him. by lies. by fear. That’s freedom. Not just freedom from, but freedom for…action. That’s the furthest thing from subservient I know. In fact, it’s downright subversive.
Letting go doesn’t let him get away with it. It lets you get on with it.
Let us be off. There’s much work to be done.
Thank you tosses and goes, Gratitude stays and helps
0“I can say what I want. It’s a free country!” the kid said, shoving his friend a little harder than a friend shoves a friend. The rest of us standing in line to board the flight pretended not to notice these boys ‘doing what boys do’.
That kid is feeling pretty free. I’m thinking he probably has had a pretty smooth ride to today. It’s likely he hasn’t experienced much hardship, suffered significant tragedy, or been the victim of persecution or injustice. These are the heavy burdens that tend to come into our adult lives and, thankfully, the very young are unaware, but when do we introduce them to our kids so they can become acquainted?
Oh, we teach our kids to say please and thank you. We teach them to say I’m sorry. We insist they sit up straight and eat their vegetables. But do we teach them that sometimes things don’t go as planned, and in fact sometimes things stray very far from the plan and we must carry them through anyway?
Just say thank you gets us part way. It gets us to the starting spot on the game board and ready to play. We pick up the dice where our thanks takes its turn. Thanks tosses and goes. It launches from the start point and doesn’t look back. That’s the way the game is played. Take no prisoners; first to finish wins.
But what needs doing?, hesitates before hefting the dice. Onlookers might suppose this is for rule clarification or directional assistance, but actually it’s for confirmation. What needs doing? pauses to be sure it’s really her turn. Is there anyone who needs a lift to the game before I begin?
I pray…
“Lord, show me the need I’m meant to attend to?”
“Dear one, you couldn’t bear the masses of hurt, pain and hatred you would see through My light.”
“How do you bear it? How can you live that way?”
“I didn’t. It killed me. Now I do.”
…”I am so grateful. Show me how to live in deep gratitude for this rather than in the shallow thanks that precipitates please, may I have another.”
“Lord, there is no other. You are my way to our unfathomably generous God. Please help me live out my gratitude.”
Child,
Gratitude forgives.
Gratitude understands.
Gratitude reconciles.
Gratitude works with.
Gratitude gives back.
Gratitude commits for the long haul.
It perseveres.
It doesn’t look around for better options.
It finds a place for everyone.
Truly Grateful stays and helps,
Thanks tosses and goes.
Free is not free from burden.
Its hands are empty and held out.
What needs doing?
One Nation, Under God, Indivisible
0I pledge allegiance
to the flag of
the United States of America.
And to the Republic
for which it stands,
One nation,
Under God,
Indivisible.
With Liberty
and Justice,
For all.
Thank you to all who have served under this flag.
May we be reminded today that we the people, under God,
have a future because God has acted once and for all.
Election Day: You were worth it
19 years
Frankly, had it not been for the woman who climbed the steps to my porch a few weeks ago to introduce herself and tell me what she brought to the race for the office she was seeking, I probably would have been among the ranks of the apathetic on this election day. But we visited for a bit. She listened as I told her about an issue of particular concern to me. Then we chatted about her three grown boys who nearly matched my three grown girls.
So, when election day came I thought, if I don’t mark anything else on my ballot, I’m going to the polls so I can cast my vote for her.
Well, that’s when I realized how uninformed I was about the other races going on. It’s not easy to cram for an election, you know. Trying to find details about candidates, their positions on issues, their voting record or even their character traits – even with the magnificent internet – is a research project I really didn’t want to undertake.
I dabbled a bit and then headed to the polls, certain of only one vote I would cast. Along the sidewalk outside the elementary school, I gamely accepted both pink and blue sample ballots and then settled into a chair in the hallway, put there to accommodate the long line of voters waiting their turns. There was no line and no competition for a seat. So there I sat and scanned, like a kid hoping to glean just that little bit of information that will earn him the passing grade on the imminent test.
Then I entered the nearly vacant gym, produced my ID, got my ballot, and sat to bubble in (completely) for the candidates I had selected and the bond issues I chose to support. Satisfied, I fed the ballot into the machine that would tally my votes. Whew! What a relief.
That’s when I looked up into the face of a white-haired gentleman, whose furrowed lines all led to the kind smile beneath his well worn WWII cap. He stood, poised to deliver my ‘I VOTED’ sticker.
“Put it right here,” I told him, indicating my left shoulder. He did, and with such joy that I just had to shake his hand.
“Thank you for your service,” I said.
“You were worth it,” he replied.
Wow. When you put it like that…
What if my life were on that ballot? The poor excuse for due diligence, the casual approach to decision-making, the haphazard consideration given to allocation of resources. What if, after casting that vote, I got to shake the hand of the one whose sacrifice made it all possible, and He replied, “You were worth it”?
It’s an election year, folks. Bubble in completely.
“I am what I do”
0Perhaps a man is most free when, instead of producing motives, he could only say “I am what I do.” ~ C.S. Lewis
I go to prepare a place for you
110 years
Until that which we write, we think, we pray, comes to life, we are noisy gongs and clanging cymbals. This is the pre-Easter world, the pre-Easter us.
- Messy.
- Analytical.
- Critical.
- Judging.
- Halting.
- Hesitant.
- Conspiring.
- Underhanded.
- Plotting.
- Deceiving.
Oh, the list. Thank God, the baby Jesus was born into a smelly stable. At least He knew what He was getting himself into, or at least He recognized the stench when he got here.
But the Easter life is meant to have a different fragrance. Gone is the stench of death. Up rises the sweet smell of life. It doesn’t febreeze the smell to muffle it or fool our noses by covering it, it actually replaces it by rebirthing it. It is a coming alive “in me.” It’s an inhabitation, not just a living with, or walking beside. It’s not even a co-habitation. Life has sprung from that which was clearly dying, what others have seen and testified to as completely dead. The mortician has actually signed off on it.
That, of course, is impossible. So, are we foolish to believe it?
Yet, each day I have words, thoughts, prayers in me that are meant to be acted upon. Ideas designed to take root. Connections clearly intended to be made. And when I am true to these, they take on a life of their own. This is not my doing. Others tell me this. Am I foolish to believe this? believe them? That something could be incarnated in me? A life that is not mine and yet it is?
Impossible. Yet, I hear (and so I write): Make a place for me, just as I have gone to make a place for you. What if the place Jesus said he was “going to make for me” was actually in me?
Is there a place “in me” that would welcome my Lord? Have I prepared the guest room? Made the beds, changed the sheets, tidied up the newspapers? Have I scrubbed the floors, painted the shutters, patched the wall paper, vacuumed the… Heck, I’d better get busy. Maybe a decorator.
No, redecoration would be fruitless and a waste of time, energy and resources. Christ doesn’t come with the white glove test to see if I pass muster. He’s not that kind of commander. He comes to set up a base of operations. He seeks outposts where his commands are followed without hesitation or pause. Not because we fear His power or rank but because we defer to it. Our compliance is a place of usefulness, of actualization.
This is a real place in Easter people. Where the Kingdom has come, the knock answered, the door opened, and new life has been welcomed and told to make itself at home. Oh, what a hum and whir I hear from that place.
What is written there is life-giving.
What is thought there is laid in place.
What is prayed there is and was and ever will be.
But what is imagined there…Oh, the plans he has for us; to prosper us and give us a future. Where better to do all of this than within us? Am I foolish to believe that the place He left to prepare was that very place?