The Art of Conversation

At our house, the kitchen table was used for more than eating meals; it was the place of conversation. At the time I discovered this, I was unaware of the major turn it would make in my life. The home where I grew up was the regular gathering place for crowds of family and friends. My dad's outgoing personality and my mom's gift of hospitality opened the door for literally hundreds of get-togethers over the years. In my youngest years, those days were full of fun activity outside, where we ran and played to our hearts content. Something happened, though, as I was entering my young teens; I discovered conversation at the kitchen table.

With younger kids running around outside and naps and/or ball games in the living room, the kitchen table seemed to fill up with a hodgepodge of folks ready to talk about life. Whether it was the latest news, the weather, the most recent family updates or something else, people would sit around that table and visit for hours. "Ugh!" I thought as a little guy. Who in their right mind would want to sit around and talk when we could be outside throwing a ball or having a rotten apple war? (We had apple trees, much fruit would be blown off by the winds and, yes, we had "wars" of throwing them at each other.)

One by one, my older cousins lost interest in our outside games and migrated toward the kitchen table. Somehow the day finally came for me to do the same. I remember the fascination I felt at watching how stories would link together to comprise long, interesting visits. Some detail in one person's comment would erupt into a similar recitation from another. On and on these testimonies would travel until someone would call a halt for evening chores. At that point, the town folk in the family would gather up their young-uns and head home.

I recall those moments today because I realize that I loved being the center of attention and I could ALWAYS think of something to say to keep a conversation going. What I couldn't do very well was keep silent. It was hard for me to imagine that everyone around the table was anything but mesmerized by my brilliant tales. Today I think that their politeness got the better of them and they put up with me constantly talking rather than rudely tell me I should be quiet and let someone else speak for a while.

As I grow older, I have come to understand that God has, like those around our kitchen table, often had to put up with me talking nonstop during prayer. I know better than to believe that I will be heard for my many words, but I still must discipline myself to shut up long enough to listen...really listen...to what He might want to say to me.

What is your prayer life like? Do you regale God with endless stories? Do you barrage Him with long lists of requests delivered in machine-gun staccato? Do you quickly gush your prayer list out to Him, then hang up and go about your day? If so, you are missing one of the biggest joys available to those who pray; that of listening for and learning to hear His voice. More this weekend at Stone Ridge Church.

 

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Will God REALLY supply all my needs?

Eyes flitting back and forth, the old man stepped gingerly through the grove. Every few moments he found himself trying to scratch away the itch that seemed to afflict him wherever the rough fabric touched his skin. "How can peasants become accustomed to such coarse cloth?" he wondered. He spat with disgust. Why would he stoop to these lengths just to get an answer to the question plaguing his thoughts? He was the king, was he not?!

Finally, he saw the cottage among a tight knot of sycamore trees up ahead. Wisps of smoke curled out of the crude, clay chimney. She was home! With his two bodyguards, he paused behind one especially large tree. He couldn't be seen here. He himself have declared that women like her should be executed. They waited, perfectly still, as the gathering dusk overtook the sky above. The shadows deepened until all they could see was the tiny flicker of a candle from cracks in her old house. Finally, satisfied, he stepped out into the opening and went to the door.

"What do you want?" The wary gleam in her sharp eyes spoke of her constant fear. The sight of the three men was sufficient to raise her internal alarm to near panic. People rarely found their way to her and most wanted to be far away from her grove before darkness fell.

The old king, satisfied that she didn't recognize him, conjured up a pleading tone: "I need to speak with the medium," he whined. "Is that you?"

Fearing a trap, her heart pounded as she answered slowly. "A medium? Why would you need one of those foul creatures?"

“I have to talk to a man who has died,” he said. “Will you call up his spirit for me?”

“Are you trying to get me killed?” the woman demanded. “You know that Saul has outlawed all the mediums and all who consult the spirits of the dead. Why are you setting a trap for me?” But Saul took an oath in the name of the Lord and promised, “As surely as the Lord lives, nothing bad will happen to you for doing this.” (1 Samuel 28:8-10 NLT)

On the night before his death, King Saul stepped willfully into the lowest pit he could imagine, hoping to save what God had decreed would be taken from him. The Lord had promised him that his heirs would rule throughout the generations if only Saul would seek and obey Him. Saul did neither. In fact, it was his failure to humbly ask God for his needs and wait upon Him for answers that doomed the monarch. It is the choicest irony then, that Saul spent the last night of his life asking a woman to conjure up the spirit of dead Samuel to give him the answers he could no longer get from God Himself.

In the New Testament, Paul wrote, "Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done." (Philippians 4:6 NLT) Had Saul lived by that wisdom, his family would be remembered with honor rather than humiliation...

...which leads to the question: How are you doing with this command? Are you taking your needs to God, trusting Him to supply according to His wisdom and love for you? Or are you, like Saul, impatiently jumping in to do it yourself when you don't get the answer you want when you want it? The name for such trusting prayer is supplication. We will dig into it this weekend at Stone Ridge Church. Can't be there? Catch the podcast here.

 

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Encouragement During Difficult Times

I walked down the spacious, comfortable hallways of the mega-church we were visiting. I was wearing my letter sweater, the one with the huge capital "F" on the front. The "F" was invisible to the human eye, but I was sure that most people could see it just as clearly as I did. "F"..."FAILURE!"

Amazingly, I was "wearing" my letter sweater on the very trip that was supposed to help our church recover from a train wreck. Months earlier, we were shocked by a series of events that left our church wondering if we were about to die. Most of our vibrant, young leaders had left to help start their own new church that seemed to mushroom in size overnight. In the meantime, those left with us were in pain, often angry and frustrated by what had happened to us. It was during the ugly aftermath of that perfect storm that I tried to gather some key leaders to trek off to a large, effective church so we could learn and re-calibrate our ecclesiological GPS (God Positioning System). Full of hope, leaders sacrificed time and money to board a plane and fly off to the midwest.

When we got there, the initial excitement about what we saw quickly morphed into frustration. Why wasn't our church more like that one? What had happened to cause us to fall apart so catastrophically? Surely we could recover more quickly than we were. The conversation kept progressing with increased tension. Finally, one of our young leaders -- a good friend -- pointed out the problem as he saw it. The problem, he explained, was that I wasn't a good leader. Though his words cut to the core of my being, I wondered if was right.

I tossed and turned that night, waking to the new day with more emotional pain than I could handle. As the morning progressed, I found myself walking down the spacious, comfortable hallways of the mega-church we were visiting. The invisible "F" on the front of that sweater felt like a flashing neon sign that everyone around me could see.

You might wonder why I took time to recall those painful days in my life. It's because that was the season when I discovered my need to keep a file. (No, it's not a file of information about leaders who have hurt me. With joy, I tell you that the young leader who hurt me so badly on that trip came to me right after we got home and sincerely apologized. We survived those relational rapids, friendship intact.) The file I keep is called "Encouragement During Difficult Times." It was during that same season of pain that I was blessed with many letters and cards from people I respect. They shared hope from the Scripture, reminders of ways I had helped them, and words of thanks for my work. One pastor who has a reputation of being insensitive and hard on others, sent me a long letter in which he expressed appreciation for me and the exhortation not to give up.

I keep my file and regularly add things to it. From time to time, I hit an emotional wall. While we have never again experienced a train wreck like the one I just described, leading ministry is hard work and fraught with challenges. When I feel like giving up or at least like screaming, I pull out that trusty file folder.

It isn't by accident that Thanksgiving is part of a healthy prayer life. God designed us to be at our best when we live with an attitude of gratitude. That gratitude begins with our relationship with Him, but it must extend to how we live every day. More about it this weekend at Stone Ridge Church. Can't join us? Catch the podcast here.

 

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Hide and Seek

I have fond memories of outdoor games when I was a kid. We spent hours after church events or during Wednesday night choir rehearsals playing games like Red Rover and Capture the Flag. It's one game that sticks out, however. I'm not really sure why; perhaps because we played it in the yard of our pastor's house or because it included a huge number of kids of all ages. The game was Hide and Seek.

You might think it silly that such a simple, pervasive game grabs my memory. I wonder about that, too, but I can almost feel my heart pounding as I hid in some dark corner among the bushes waiting to be found. The sound of "All-y, All-y outs in free!" meant sweet victory; I wouldn't be "it" for the next round AND my hiding place was still hidden.

In subsequent years, I have frequently experienced again how children LOVE to play Hide and Seek. A succession of young ones has visited our house and played with me, hiding in various spots. No matter how familiar they get with every available hiding spot in our house, they want to play every time they come. Our Hide and Seek adventures have held a few memorable moments, like the evening the kids' mom decided to hide. She pulled a hoodie over her head and sat like a statue against a bedroom wall. Her kids walked right past her again and again and couldn't find her! Maybe there is such a thing as hiding in plain sight.

I'm convinced, though, that Hide and Seek is a much more popular game for adults than for kids. The adult version has our Creator, the lover of our souls, seeking to "find" us and give us the experience we were designed for: intimacy with Him. We hide, though. Any thrill we might undergo as He seeks us out is quickly swallowed up in fear. "What if He finds me? Will He be as disappointed in me as I am in myself? Will He take things away from me that I love? Will He send me to Africa?"

The more He seeks, the more we tend to hide. We think of the shadowy corner of our existence as preferable to the light and freedom He offers. We don't usually begin the "game" with the thought of it lasting a lifetime, but we grow increasingly comfortable in our dark place. Deep down, we sorta hope that He will shout "All-y, All-y outs in free!" at the end...but He won't.

More this weekend at Stone Ridge. Can't join us? Catch the podcast here.

 

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Beauty Worth Recognizing

The desert has a beauty all its own.

Not everyone believes that at first; for instance, my sister-in-law, who is a mountain girl at heart. She fully believed that the 115 miles from Gila Bend, Arizona to Yuma was the longest stretch of highway in the world the first time she traveled it. Those whose idea that nature's beauty involves trees and lots of green would quickly agree with her. But, the desert has a beauty all its own.

In fact, some of you who are desert newbies are about to get a surprise. Our violent rains last week are waking the desert up. Seeds that have long lain dormant under the sandy topsoil have received a drink of water. Even as you read this, some of them are splitting open and little green shoots are leaping toward the surface where they can gain energy from the sun. Literally millions of them will rise up and turn the tan desert floor into a lush green. They will stay that way until the lack of water brings them to the end of their short life, but they will leave behind seeds that are their children of the future.

The desert has a beauty all its own.

I know people who adore the desert. Somehow they have learned to "see" something that others don't. The see the hardy life of plants and animals whose design is to live in such places. They find themselves in awe of each unique species. They spend huge chunks of time simply experiencing the desert.

It's similar that some people adore God while others struggle with that idea. The hurts of their past and the struggles of their present make them wonder if there is any beauty to find in Him. "If He is really a good God," they think, "then surely I wouldn't be living through such a dry time." Perhaps they have forgotten that He is the God who sends the rain...spiritual rain to awaken what was long ago planted in them.

The question for us is, "How do we adore God, even in the dry times?" That's the subject this weekend at Stone Ridge Church. Can't be there? Catch the podcast here.

 

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Hearts Set Free

The end of WWII in Europe was a scene both devastating and marvelous. Amidst the rubble of cities and bombed-out craters that once contained the bustle of civilization, cheers mixed with tears to welcome the Allied forces who had dropped the bombs. Those same Allies had toppled the power of tyranny, then arrived to replace it with freedom.

I love those historic accounts. Something within us wants to leap and shout when captives get set free. In Luke 4, a local boy returned home and caused a clamor among residents of his village. He had begun to do miraculous signs, speak life-changing words and collect an ever-larger group of passionate followers. The leaders of his local synagogue invited him to a place of honor, having him read something from the old prophets. He took a scroll from Isaiah, unrolled it and began to read: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for he has anointed me to bring Good News to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim that captives will be released, that the blind will see, that the oppressed will be set free, and that the time of the Lord ’s favor has come. ” (Luke 4:18, 19 NLT)

"Good news! Captives to be released! Blind people will see! The oppressed will be set free! It's the time of God's favor!" Everywhere Jesus went, His actions demonstrated the power of those words. He declared AND demonstrated what He called "God's kingdom."

As powerful as was 1945's destruction of the kingdom of tyranny by the kingdom of freedom, it pales to what happens when the kingdom of God arrives in a human heart. Free societies are often choked with hearts held captive by forces too great for any human military to conquer them. No amount of political representation nor equal justice nor establishment of human rights can truly free such oppressed souls. One can breathe free air, enjoy a life filled with creature comforts and move about in limitless directions, yet be bound with hurts, habits and hangups that suck every drop of joy out of every moment. Only Jesus can conquer that kingdom!

The amazing thing is that Jesus offers to not only set up God's kingdom in our hearts, but to include us in His declaration and demonstration of the kingdom to those who are still captive. Advancing the kingdom is the most rewarding lifestyle on the planet and Jesus calls us to join Him in doing it!

 

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Relaxed-fit or Skinny?

Jeans.

I showed up to preach last Sunday in jeans. One of my friends commented that I had worn jeans at the Global Leadership Summit, for whom our church is a satellite site. It must have been okay because some of the speakers who were communicating to about 75,000 people (live and via satellite) were wearing...you guessed it...jeans.

Our church has a ministry partnership in the Dominican Republic. I once heard that jeans can be quite expensive there and are a sign of affluence to them. To us, they just feel more relaxed than slacks or dresses so we like to wear them.

But, have you noticed (I know you have!) the many varieties of jeans these days? When I was a kid, we called them "Levi's" for a good reason; that's all we had. Then, someone came along wearing "Lee" jeans and the denim war was on. Fast forward to now and we don't just have brand wars, we have style and color wars. We have long since lost our amazement that "stone-washed" jeans -- jeans which have traded their trademark blue for something near white and come from the store full of holes -- are more expensive than ones made with brand new material.

But the jeans phenomenon that really gets me is the fashion swing back and forth between "relaxed fit jeans" and "skinny jeans." Let's be honest with each other. We have seen people in skinny jeans that should never wear anything skinny. And we have seen very petite people swallowed up in relaxed fit jeans. Wouldn't it be better if people just wore jeans that fit them? Couldn't we leave style out of the equation for a minute and use our obviously generous jeans-buying resources to wear something that fits us?

All of this brings to to an important point about the way God made us. We each have a divine design. We are unique; some of us may be "uniquer" than most, but God designed us intentionally with great hope and intent. One of the tragedies for those who follow Christ is to think we serve a "one size fits all" God. If He designed us as a "relaxed fit" person in the spiritual realm and we insist on cramming our life into "skinny jeans", we will end up less than comfortable and far less productive than He had hoped. The key is to discover our design.

Discovery can be a journey that takes years, but every time we get a little closer to the perfect fit, we end up with more joy.

Is it time for you to have a spiritual garage sale and let go of those of those old jeans? If they don't fit you, why not let them go? Don't spend your life wishing God had given you a different design. Letting go of the old opens the door to discover the truth. It will set you free!

We will talk about God's design this weekend at Stone Ridge. If you come, feel free to wear jeans...that fit.

 

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