I've spent too much time lately being critical and standing on a soapbox. After sitting for an hour trying to decide what to write in this blog, starting one topic and deleting it all within minutes and starting on something new, I've gotten to the point where all I can do is give glory to the one who is holding my life and the world in the palm of His hand. As I sit meditating on the incredibly awesome greatness of His love and all that He has done for me, all of my petty criticisms and cynical ideas about how I think things should work crumble beneath the weight that is the goodness of God. Words fall pathetically short, and I feel all I can do is to fall to my knees and worship. His love is so big, so perfect, and exactly what I need, but not what I deserve.
"I made known to them your name, and I will continue to make it known, that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them." (Jesus, speaking to the Father. John 17:26)
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
hurt
I love people. I need people. I hate being alone.
Sometimes I wonder why God made us this way. I wonder why we need each other so badly. And why, if we need each other so badly, did he give us the ability to hurt each other so much?
I've seen families ripped apart for stupid, selfish reasons. I've lived that; I've played that part, said terrible things, despised those who needed my love. I've seen the church, the Bride of Christ, turn on itself and become critical, hurtful, and cruel to no end. No, I didn't just see it, I've lived that as well. I've sneered, I've back-stabbed, I've lashed out with self righteous fury at anything and everything that didn't fit into my narrow view.
Why, when we all clearly need each other so badly, when the most powerful tool we have is our love for each other, why can't we break out of this selfish and destructive cycle?
God loves us. He loves us so much that He sent his Son, Jesus to die for us. All of us.
"Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil." Matthew 6: 9-13.
Sometimes I wonder why God made us this way. I wonder why we need each other so badly. And why, if we need each other so badly, did he give us the ability to hurt each other so much?
I've seen families ripped apart for stupid, selfish reasons. I've lived that; I've played that part, said terrible things, despised those who needed my love. I've seen the church, the Bride of Christ, turn on itself and become critical, hurtful, and cruel to no end. No, I didn't just see it, I've lived that as well. I've sneered, I've back-stabbed, I've lashed out with self righteous fury at anything and everything that didn't fit into my narrow view.
Why, when we all clearly need each other so badly, when the most powerful tool we have is our love for each other, why can't we break out of this selfish and destructive cycle?
God loves us. He loves us so much that He sent his Son, Jesus to die for us. All of us.
"Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil." Matthew 6: 9-13.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
changed
I can remember a few years ago driving home from from the bar, my body totally numbed from the effects of drinking too much alcohol, vaguely wondering if this night would be the night that I got caught or had an accident; I remember asking myself the question of why I continued to submit myself to this destructive behavior, and I remember breaking down and literally screaming my lungs out to God, knowing He was there, watching, waiting for me to stop fighting. I fought so hard during those years, stopped up my ears so many times when I could almost physically hear Him calling me back into His arms. I wanted to be strong, to succeed and gain the world's approval for making my own way. I think maybe I even did. I had a good job, I probably could have found a nice girl, gotten married, and had a decent life. I could see that coming, and for awhile, that was good enough for me.
There were countless numbers of times that I drove home in that state of mind. Even when every other sense in my body was out of touch with reality, I could still hear that small voice calling me, calling me up and out of my rebellion. I knew that this dream I had of the "good life" was an illusion, but I didn't want to admit that I needed something more. Yet God never stopped calling. His arms were and are ever open.
I've spent some time recently pondering addictions and self destructive behavior. Even after going through and being redeemed from such things I still am not completely clear on what drives that behavior. I want to understand this so that I can use that knowledge to help others break free from addictions and find the fabulous new life in Christ that I have found. There are multiple ways of approaching this problem; there are both spiritual and physical things that need to be addressed.
Tonight I revisited an old haunt of mine from years ago, a place that I spent a considerable amount of time hiding from God and pursuing all sorts of temporary physical pleasures. I went to meet up with an old and dear friend of mine and to see how the place had held up in the years of my absence. Very little had changed, except for one thing. Another old friend of mine, after getting through the emphatic "how you doins?" and "it's been so longs," made the observation that I seemed different. I seemed "more mature" and "better." This was amusing to me, because in fact, physically I have not changed all that much. My hair is the same, I still shave every day, and I haven't gotten any taller or put on any weight. Yet I am different, and it got noticed, before I could even speak a single word beyond "hi."
I get discouraged sometimes. I wonder if God has ever spoken to me at all. I occasionally even have a crisis of faith. I think about slipping back into old habits and wonder if there really is a reason not to. I think maybe I haven't changed at all; I still struggle with sin and sometimes rage at God in frustration. But I am changed. God brought me up out of darkness and death and began to set a path before me, leading to glory. I am a light, and even though I sometimes don't feel very bright, there is still something within that shines. Without even trying that light can be seen, and I am in awe of that transforming power of grace.
There were countless numbers of times that I drove home in that state of mind. Even when every other sense in my body was out of touch with reality, I could still hear that small voice calling me, calling me up and out of my rebellion. I knew that this dream I had of the "good life" was an illusion, but I didn't want to admit that I needed something more. Yet God never stopped calling. His arms were and are ever open.
I've spent some time recently pondering addictions and self destructive behavior. Even after going through and being redeemed from such things I still am not completely clear on what drives that behavior. I want to understand this so that I can use that knowledge to help others break free from addictions and find the fabulous new life in Christ that I have found. There are multiple ways of approaching this problem; there are both spiritual and physical things that need to be addressed.
Tonight I revisited an old haunt of mine from years ago, a place that I spent a considerable amount of time hiding from God and pursuing all sorts of temporary physical pleasures. I went to meet up with an old and dear friend of mine and to see how the place had held up in the years of my absence. Very little had changed, except for one thing. Another old friend of mine, after getting through the emphatic "how you doins?" and "it's been so longs," made the observation that I seemed different. I seemed "more mature" and "better." This was amusing to me, because in fact, physically I have not changed all that much. My hair is the same, I still shave every day, and I haven't gotten any taller or put on any weight. Yet I am different, and it got noticed, before I could even speak a single word beyond "hi."
I get discouraged sometimes. I wonder if God has ever spoken to me at all. I occasionally even have a crisis of faith. I think about slipping back into old habits and wonder if there really is a reason not to. I think maybe I haven't changed at all; I still struggle with sin and sometimes rage at God in frustration. But I am changed. God brought me up out of darkness and death and began to set a path before me, leading to glory. I am a light, and even though I sometimes don't feel very bright, there is still something within that shines. Without even trying that light can be seen, and I am in awe of that transforming power of grace.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
just a few
I was reading in 1 Samuel this morning and I was inspired by something that I found in chapter 14. Before I get to that, let me give some brief history. Saul has been recently crowned king, and at this point in time is preparing to do battle with the Philistines. The problem is, there are a lot more Philistines than there are Israelites. The Israelites are panicked and hiding in the hills and otherwise being unfaithful chickens. I would guess that at this point Saul is pretty frustrated. So was his son, Jonathan. In fact, Jonathan was so disgusted that he grabbed his armor-bearer and decided to sneak away and take drastic measures.
1 Samuel 14: 6-7 - "Jonathan said to the young man who carried his armor, "Come, let us go over to the garrison of these uncircumcised. It may be that the Lord will work for us, for nothing can hinder the Lord from saving by many or by few." And his armor-bearer said to him, "Do all that is in your heart. Do as you wish. Behold, I am with you heart and soul.""
Jonathan went on to make a crazy kamikaze style charge at the Philistine garrison, and together he and his armor-bearer were successful in not only slaying a nice sized handful of Philistines, but also threw the whole army into confusion, which inspired the rest of the chicken Hebrews to quit cowering and come out and fight. They won the battle that day, all because of one man's faith in the Lord.
I like this passage. It inspires me. I love that the Bible is full of these "one man against an army" stories. Also, I tend to think that this passage is a bit prophetic. "Nothing can hinder the Lord from saving by many or by few," - in fact nothing did hinder the Lord from saving, and he used one man.
1 Samuel 14: 6-7 - "Jonathan said to the young man who carried his armor, "Come, let us go over to the garrison of these uncircumcised. It may be that the Lord will work for us, for nothing can hinder the Lord from saving by many or by few." And his armor-bearer said to him, "Do all that is in your heart. Do as you wish. Behold, I am with you heart and soul.""
Jonathan went on to make a crazy kamikaze style charge at the Philistine garrison, and together he and his armor-bearer were successful in not only slaying a nice sized handful of Philistines, but also threw the whole army into confusion, which inspired the rest of the chicken Hebrews to quit cowering and come out and fight. They won the battle that day, all because of one man's faith in the Lord.
I like this passage. It inspires me. I love that the Bible is full of these "one man against an army" stories. Also, I tend to think that this passage is a bit prophetic. "Nothing can hinder the Lord from saving by many or by few," - in fact nothing did hinder the Lord from saving, and he used one man.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Reflections and Newness
Ah the first blog. What shall I write about? Shall I tackle the economy? What about war? Perhaps I will gossip about the scandals in the entertainment industry (I think not). Or maybe I should talk about how I am eating ice cream directly over my keyboard, a highly risky endeavor. Banana-flavored ice cream with chocolate chunks in it, actually. I have found that I am the only person in this household who enjoys that heavenly combination. It works out nicely that way. I don't have to share.
I believe I will start out with some reflections from my life and the many changes that have sent my head and heart swirling in all sorts of directions. Before I do that, however, a brief explanation for those of you who are wondering about the change in location for my blog and the new moniker. I have been dissatisfied with the old blog location, both because of irritating sometimes offensive ads, and because the general format just didn't seem to flow well for me. So I'm trying Blogger out. As far as the new moniker, well, newtnukem generated so many questions about it's meaning that I got tired of explaining. It really had no meaning, ultimately. Basically it was an old nickname given to me by a drunk guy for reasons unknown to me. Thehappyhandyman suits me well, considering my job (although I must confess, happiness is sometimes elusive). I do need to give credit where credit is due though, and thank my good friend Kelsey, who coined the phrase one day as she heard me whistling and traipsing around the house. Ok then. On with the show.
It's been almost two months since I moved back home from New Orleans. I've been asked on numerous occasions if I miss it, and to be honest that can be a loaded question. I spent a year living and working in the Crescent City, and it not take long for me to feel like I had a new home. I had a good core group of friends there, friends that were difficult to leave behind. I miss them dearly. I miss taking walks along the Riverwalk in the French Quarter, I miss running alongside Lake Ponchartain, I miss the gigantic and gorgeous trees of Audubon Park; I miss walking down to the Uptown Meat Market in Central City to get wings for lunch. I miss working in the St. Roch community and scratching my head with Ben over ridiculous plumbing problems, weekends at the Richter's, sitting on the dirty floor of Preservation Hall listening to jazz while sweating profusely, going out for drinks with T and J after a long week of coordinating ridiculous volunteers, morning meetings cutting it up and laughing hysterically at the antics of the team, trying to figure out what new hand signal Tre is going to use to tell me that the song is ending in the next measure and I need to stop playing, taking my little friends from church to the park on Sunday afternoons, getting a headache from the chaos that was my junior high youth group that I helped with riot control, sitting with the Mission Year interns in their air conditioning and observing their chaos while forgetting temporarily about mine. I miss walking back from taking a shower, looking around at the barren industrial neighborhood in Desire Street and being unable and unwilling to shake off the overwhelming sense of affection for the beautiful ugliness of my home and an awe that God had seen fit to place me in such a place.
So yes, I suppose my answer is that I do miss New Orleans. And yet, it was time to move on. Had I tried to drag it out any longer, I would have been making myself miserable. God was calling me back home, and it was a lesson in humility to understand and obey that call. I don't regret a thing, and I am trying to live my life one day at a time once again, struggling as usual to hear and obey what the Lord is speaking to me. Just trying to be a simple happyhandyman you could say. I've been keeping myself busy learning all sorts of things about remodeling, from painting to flooring to drywall to carpentry to electrical and everything in between. I drive to State College every other weekend or so to bang on the drums for some friends in a church there. I've started a youth group called "Stirred," and have even been preaching every now and then in my home church. I've entered a new phase in my life, and the challenges that come up are both new and refreshing. I am humbled that God has seen fit to do the things that He has with me, and I can only guess what He has yet in store for me.
I believe I will start out with some reflections from my life and the many changes that have sent my head and heart swirling in all sorts of directions. Before I do that, however, a brief explanation for those of you who are wondering about the change in location for my blog and the new moniker. I have been dissatisfied with the old blog location, both because of irritating sometimes offensive ads, and because the general format just didn't seem to flow well for me. So I'm trying Blogger out. As far as the new moniker, well, newtnukem generated so many questions about it's meaning that I got tired of explaining. It really had no meaning, ultimately. Basically it was an old nickname given to me by a drunk guy for reasons unknown to me. Thehappyhandyman suits me well, considering my job (although I must confess, happiness is sometimes elusive). I do need to give credit where credit is due though, and thank my good friend Kelsey, who coined the phrase one day as she heard me whistling and traipsing around the house. Ok then. On with the show.
It's been almost two months since I moved back home from New Orleans. I've been asked on numerous occasions if I miss it, and to be honest that can be a loaded question. I spent a year living and working in the Crescent City, and it not take long for me to feel like I had a new home. I had a good core group of friends there, friends that were difficult to leave behind. I miss them dearly. I miss taking walks along the Riverwalk in the French Quarter, I miss running alongside Lake Ponchartain, I miss the gigantic and gorgeous trees of Audubon Park; I miss walking down to the Uptown Meat Market in Central City to get wings for lunch. I miss working in the St. Roch community and scratching my head with Ben over ridiculous plumbing problems, weekends at the Richter's, sitting on the dirty floor of Preservation Hall listening to jazz while sweating profusely, going out for drinks with T and J after a long week of coordinating ridiculous volunteers, morning meetings cutting it up and laughing hysterically at the antics of the team, trying to figure out what new hand signal Tre is going to use to tell me that the song is ending in the next measure and I need to stop playing, taking my little friends from church to the park on Sunday afternoons, getting a headache from the chaos that was my junior high youth group that I helped with riot control, sitting with the Mission Year interns in their air conditioning and observing their chaos while forgetting temporarily about mine. I miss walking back from taking a shower, looking around at the barren industrial neighborhood in Desire Street and being unable and unwilling to shake off the overwhelming sense of affection for the beautiful ugliness of my home and an awe that God had seen fit to place me in such a place.
So yes, I suppose my answer is that I do miss New Orleans. And yet, it was time to move on. Had I tried to drag it out any longer, I would have been making myself miserable. God was calling me back home, and it was a lesson in humility to understand and obey that call. I don't regret a thing, and I am trying to live my life one day at a time once again, struggling as usual to hear and obey what the Lord is speaking to me. Just trying to be a simple happyhandyman you could say. I've been keeping myself busy learning all sorts of things about remodeling, from painting to flooring to drywall to carpentry to electrical and everything in between. I drive to State College every other weekend or so to bang on the drums for some friends in a church there. I've started a youth group called "Stirred," and have even been preaching every now and then in my home church. I've entered a new phase in my life, and the challenges that come up are both new and refreshing. I am humbled that God has seen fit to do the things that He has with me, and I can only guess what He has yet in store for me.
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