Brokenness.
We run from it - pull the covers over our head and refuse to acknowledge it. We are quick to point it out in others, but slow to recognize it in ourselves. It's painful and pain is a bad thing, ergo...brokenness is bad.
We're ashamed of being broken, we're ashamed to deal with the hurt of being broken, the messiness of being broken.
We're afraid that someone else might find out. They might find out that we have a gross attitude, they might find out that we struggle with profanity, they might find out that we struggle with loneliness, with trust, with loving others, with loving ourselves.
What if the world discovers that we're not what we look like? What if they realize that the outgoing, smiling excitement is covering up brokenness? What if the facade starts to crack just like the inside? People would start to see what's really going on, not just what we let them see.
What if the outer shell starts to crack and our ugly hangs out?
What if it does?
King David's did.
"You're the One I've violated, and you've seen it all, seen the full extent of my evil. You have all the facts before you; whatever you decide about me is fair. I've been out of step with you for a long time, in the wrong since before I was born. What you're after is truth from the inside out. Enter me, then; conceive a new, true life. Soak me in your laundry and I'll come out clean, scrub me and I'll have a snow-white life. Tune me in to foot tapping songs, set these once-broken bones to dancing. Don't look too close for blemishes, give me a clean bill of health. God, make a fresh start in me, shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life. Don't throw me out with the trash, or fail to breathe holiness in me. Bring me back from gray exile, put a fresh wind in my sails! Give me a job teaching rebels your ways so the lost can find their way home. Commute my death sentence, God, my salvation God, and I'll sing anthems to your life-giving ways. Unbutton my lips, dear God; I'll let loose with your praise. Going through the motions doesn't please you, a flawless performance is nothing to you. I learned God-worship when my pride was shattered. Heart shattered lives ready for love don't for a moment escape God's notice. Make Zion the place you delight in, repair Jerusalem's broken-down walls. Then you'll get real worship from us, acts of worship small and large, including all the bulls they can heave onto your altar!" -Psalm 51:4-18
King David got it. He cracked and his ugly just started pouring out. He was broken. But was it a bad thing? He recognized his ugliness, he recognized his brokenness and he asked God to do something different. "God, make a fresh start in me, shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life."
We run from acknowledging our brokenness, but until we acknowledge that something is broken, it can't be fixed.
David said "Going through the motions doesn't please you, a flawless performance is nothing to you." When we refuse to acknowledge our brokenness we're just going through the motions, putting on a performance in hopes that people won't see us for who we really are, but David said: "I learned God-worship when my pride was shattered."
We're afraid to let go of our pride, afraid that if we start to deal with one issue that it will all unravel like our favorite fifteen year old sweater, afraid that God's not going to be there to catch all of the pieces.
That's not true.
"Heart shattered lives ready for love don't for a moment escape God's notice."
So let go of the brokenness, Stop trying to hold it all together and cover up your ugly.
It's not going to work.
Sometimes we need to let the broken pieces fall off and let our ugly hang out so The Lord can clean it off and start again.
Saturday, November 7, 2015
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
The Scandal of Grace
McCrea sat in the small room, head down, staring at his dirty hands. He could hear nothing but the rumble of his stomach, but that didn't matter to him. He was in trouble. Three days ago he had stolen a car. He stole the car so he could sell it for parts. He was cold, hungry, dirty, tired and afraid - the money could at least help him with some of that. But now he was sitting in a room with a metal table and two folding chairs waiting for his fate to be sealed.
His eyes burned as he fought to hold back tears, his throat ached as he choked back the sobs. He couldn't cry. He had done something wrong and now he had to pay the consequences. His stomach growled again as the door opened. He stared at his dirty cuticles until someone cleared their throat. First he saw the shoes, brown leather with thin brown strings, a matching belt was looped through his khaki pants, a red plaid shirt was thrown over a white t-shirt, his large arms, folded across his chest, his jaw line covered in last night's 5 o'clock shadow, his dark brown hair stuck up haphazardly all over his head. McCrea recognized the man's face from many billboards and his stomach dropped - it was the Governor.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"McCrea", he whispered.
"McCrea, When's the last time you ate?"
"I dunno, sir. A couple of days ago."
The governor studied him for a minute, then he turned around and walked out.
"Now you're in for it," McCrea said to himself as the knot in his stomach pulled even tighter. "You must be in huge trouble if they're calling in the Governor."
Time moved slowly as McCrea sat alone. All he could do was think and wait.
He thought about life - and waited.
He thought about the mistakes that he made - and waited.
He thought about the good times that he had before his whole life fell apart - and he waited.
He thought about the hurt that he felt - and he waited.
He thought about what a disappointment he was - and he waited.
He thought about how unfair life was - and he waited.
He thought about how much better his life would be...if only - and he waited.
He thought about how many people would miss him if he were gone - and he waited.
He sat there with his head in his hands and tears on his cheeks. Broken. Hungry. Dirty. Tired. Afraid. Ashamed. He had nothing to offer. No money for a lawyer. There was nothing that he could do to get out of this, then again why should he? He was guilty anyways. Worthless to society. Nothing he could ever do would make him or anyone else better off. He could work for years, but he would still be broken, tired, afraid and ashamed.
The click of the door pulled him out of his thoughts and there stood the Governor. In his hands he held two bags. As he began to unload them, McCrea's mind was spinning. Salad, bread sticks, pasta, chicken, sweet tea, cheesecake. He hadn't seen that much food since before his mom died.
"Eat." The Governor commanded, but McCrea just sat there. He couldn't move. His stomach was roaring, but he was too ashamed to eat anything.
"Please, eat" he said and McCrea reluctantly complied. He started off slowly, but then quickly began to shovel the food into his mouth. He ate his fill and then a little more, while the Governor sat and watched. His brown eyes catching McCrea's every move, not saying a word.
When he was finished eating, he was ushered into a small room, instructed to remove his clothes and then guided into a shower. His first shower in weeks; the water was hot on his cold skin and he watched as a month's worth of dirt and filth washed down the drain. When he got out of the shower he reached for his old tattered clothes but found in their place, a pair of brown leather shoes, a belt to match, socks, khaki pants, underwear, a white t-shirt and a red plaid shirt. Confused, McCrea dressed with trembling hands and made his way back to the small room where the Governor was waiting.
McCrea sat down, kept his eyes on his hands and his hands in his lap and waited. Finally the silence was too much and he burst out:
"I'm sorry!" He cried.
"Did you know that the car that you stole was mine?" asked the Governor.
"I am so sorry! I've never done anything like this before! As soon as I get out of jail, I promise I'll pay you back!"
"Son," the Governor said, "How long have you been on the streets?"
"About six months now, sir."
"Where are you parents?"
"I never knew my father and my mom died about a year ago. I was in foster care for a while, but I couldn't stay in that house so I left."
Silence...
"I really am sorry! I was just so hungry and I didn't know what else to do! I swear, I'll pay you back as soon as I get out of jail!"
The Governor looked a little confused. "Who said anything about jail?" He asked as he slid a piece of paper across the table. "Do you know what this is?" McCrea shook his head.
"This is an official complaint against you for your crime."
McCrea's vision became blurry as he fought back tears.
The Governor reached over, picked up the paper, tore it in half and then again and again until it was just small pieces of confetti on the table. McCrea stared at him, bewildered as tears rolled down his cheeks.
"McCrea, I'm going to make you the offer of a life time. Are you ready?" McCrea slowly nodded his head.
"You're going to come and live with me, you're going to go to school and get your diploma and then in the evenings after school, you're going to work for me. On the weekends, you are going to take me to every chop shop that you sold parts to and I am going to pay to get my car parts back, then you and I are going to to put that car back together. When we're finished the car will belong to you."
McCrea couldn't speak, the tears rushed out as he shook his head in disbelief. Finally he managed to ask "Why?"
The Governor reached over, grabbed McCrea's hand and looked him square in the eye. "I know that you stole my car because you were hungry. You were scared, you didn't know what else to do. You didn't know that you had anyone that you could turn to, but now you do. From now on I'm the one you turn to. I am on your side. I want you to be able to become like me so that you can help others."
"But sir, I don't deserve this," McCrea whispered.
The Governor chuckled. "Son, the scandal of grace is that I'm going to front the cost of everything that you did while you were lost, in order for you to have a free life now that you are found."
With that the Governor stood up, pushed in his chair and walked to the door while McCrea sat and watched. He opened the door and turned his head, "Are you coming?"
His eyes burned as he fought to hold back tears, his throat ached as he choked back the sobs. He couldn't cry. He had done something wrong and now he had to pay the consequences. His stomach growled again as the door opened. He stared at his dirty cuticles until someone cleared their throat. First he saw the shoes, brown leather with thin brown strings, a matching belt was looped through his khaki pants, a red plaid shirt was thrown over a white t-shirt, his large arms, folded across his chest, his jaw line covered in last night's 5 o'clock shadow, his dark brown hair stuck up haphazardly all over his head. McCrea recognized the man's face from many billboards and his stomach dropped - it was the Governor.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"McCrea", he whispered.
"McCrea, When's the last time you ate?"
"I dunno, sir. A couple of days ago."
The governor studied him for a minute, then he turned around and walked out.
"Now you're in for it," McCrea said to himself as the knot in his stomach pulled even tighter. "You must be in huge trouble if they're calling in the Governor."
Time moved slowly as McCrea sat alone. All he could do was think and wait.
He thought about life - and waited.
He thought about the mistakes that he made - and waited.
He thought about the good times that he had before his whole life fell apart - and he waited.
He thought about the hurt that he felt - and he waited.
He thought about what a disappointment he was - and he waited.
He thought about how unfair life was - and he waited.
He thought about how much better his life would be...if only - and he waited.
He thought about how many people would miss him if he were gone - and he waited.
He sat there with his head in his hands and tears on his cheeks. Broken. Hungry. Dirty. Tired. Afraid. Ashamed. He had nothing to offer. No money for a lawyer. There was nothing that he could do to get out of this, then again why should he? He was guilty anyways. Worthless to society. Nothing he could ever do would make him or anyone else better off. He could work for years, but he would still be broken, tired, afraid and ashamed.
The click of the door pulled him out of his thoughts and there stood the Governor. In his hands he held two bags. As he began to unload them, McCrea's mind was spinning. Salad, bread sticks, pasta, chicken, sweet tea, cheesecake. He hadn't seen that much food since before his mom died.
"Eat." The Governor commanded, but McCrea just sat there. He couldn't move. His stomach was roaring, but he was too ashamed to eat anything.
"Please, eat" he said and McCrea reluctantly complied. He started off slowly, but then quickly began to shovel the food into his mouth. He ate his fill and then a little more, while the Governor sat and watched. His brown eyes catching McCrea's every move, not saying a word.
When he was finished eating, he was ushered into a small room, instructed to remove his clothes and then guided into a shower. His first shower in weeks; the water was hot on his cold skin and he watched as a month's worth of dirt and filth washed down the drain. When he got out of the shower he reached for his old tattered clothes but found in their place, a pair of brown leather shoes, a belt to match, socks, khaki pants, underwear, a white t-shirt and a red plaid shirt. Confused, McCrea dressed with trembling hands and made his way back to the small room where the Governor was waiting.
McCrea sat down, kept his eyes on his hands and his hands in his lap and waited. Finally the silence was too much and he burst out:
"I'm sorry!" He cried.
"Did you know that the car that you stole was mine?" asked the Governor.
"I am so sorry! I've never done anything like this before! As soon as I get out of jail, I promise I'll pay you back!"
"Son," the Governor said, "How long have you been on the streets?"
"About six months now, sir."
"Where are you parents?"
"I never knew my father and my mom died about a year ago. I was in foster care for a while, but I couldn't stay in that house so I left."
Silence...
"I really am sorry! I was just so hungry and I didn't know what else to do! I swear, I'll pay you back as soon as I get out of jail!"
The Governor looked a little confused. "Who said anything about jail?" He asked as he slid a piece of paper across the table. "Do you know what this is?" McCrea shook his head.
"This is an official complaint against you for your crime."
McCrea's vision became blurry as he fought back tears.
The Governor reached over, picked up the paper, tore it in half and then again and again until it was just small pieces of confetti on the table. McCrea stared at him, bewildered as tears rolled down his cheeks.
"McCrea, I'm going to make you the offer of a life time. Are you ready?" McCrea slowly nodded his head.
"You're going to come and live with me, you're going to go to school and get your diploma and then in the evenings after school, you're going to work for me. On the weekends, you are going to take me to every chop shop that you sold parts to and I am going to pay to get my car parts back, then you and I are going to to put that car back together. When we're finished the car will belong to you."
McCrea couldn't speak, the tears rushed out as he shook his head in disbelief. Finally he managed to ask "Why?"
The Governor reached over, grabbed McCrea's hand and looked him square in the eye. "I know that you stole my car because you were hungry. You were scared, you didn't know what else to do. You didn't know that you had anyone that you could turn to, but now you do. From now on I'm the one you turn to. I am on your side. I want you to be able to become like me so that you can help others."
"But sir, I don't deserve this," McCrea whispered.
The Governor chuckled. "Son, the scandal of grace is that I'm going to front the cost of everything that you did while you were lost, in order for you to have a free life now that you are found."
With that the Governor stood up, pushed in his chair and walked to the door while McCrea sat and watched. He opened the door and turned his head, "Are you coming?"
Friday, June 5, 2015
Father Abraham
"Now that of know that you fear God, because you have not withheld from me your son, you only son. Abraham looked up and there he saw a ram caught by its horns... So Abraham called that place The Lord will provide. And to this day it is said, "on the mountain of the Lord, it will be provided". Gen 22:12-14
God finally gave Abraham the one thing that he had been asking for his whole life - a son. Then God says "Okay, take Isaac up to the mountains, when you get there, I'll tell you where you can kill him for me".
Uhhmmmm....excuse me...God? You can't be serious!
But Abraham didn't say no. The next morning he got up, packed up the donkey, grabbed a couple of servants and took off to sacrifice his son.
Can you imagine what the hours leading up to that morning were like? The Bible doesn't say anything about Abraham arguing or pleading with God, although I'm sure that it crossed his mind.
Did he lay next to his wife and remember the day that Isaac was born? Did he try to spend some extra quality time with his son? Did he begin to grieve and freak everyone out?
All the Bible tells us is that "Early the next morning Abraham got up and saddled his donkey. He took with I'm two of his servants and his son Isaac. When he had cut enough wood for the burnt offering, he set out for the place God had told him about."
They got half way there and Abraham ditched the servants, maybe he didn't want witnesses to him killing his son...or MAYBE he didn't want anyone trying to talk him out of doing what HE KNEW God had told him to do.
The Bible says that Abraham took the wood for the altar and placed it on Isaac's shoulders, while he himself carried the knife and fire. I find it interesting that the author of Genesis thinks it is important to mention "Abraham took the wood for the burnt offering and placed it on his son Isaac, and he himself carried the fire and the knife." (Gen 22:6)
Why is this important for us to know? He put the altar on the sacrifice and he himself held the tools that could carry out the sacrifice.
Is God trying to show us that the sacrifice isn't NECESSARILY the most important thing, but the fact that we hold the ability to make the sacrifice in our hands, and that we have a heart that is willing to make any sacrifice that God calls us to no matter the cost to us?
When they're on this journey, Isaac starts to catch on. "Uh...Dad?" "Yes, son." "Dad, I see the wood, I see the fire, but where is the lamb?" Talk about AWKWARD! I mean imagine being Isaac, taking a hike up this mountain with his elderly father. He's probably thinking, "Okay, dad made us go all this way and the totally forgot the lamb!" but then Abraham says "God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering..." If i'm Isaac, I'm thinking that my dad has finally lost it, but Isaac continues on this journey.
They finally get to the place that God told them about and Abraham gets to work. He builds the altar, arranges the wood...then he goes after Isaac...
Now, we tend to look at the people in the Bible as "spiritual super heroes", perfect humans who never doubted, never feared and were never upset by the things that God told them to do...but I imagine a different picture here.
I feel like there was probably some yelling. "Dad! What are you doing?!" "Please don't hurt me!" "I'm your son, the one God promised you!" I'm sure Abraham wasn't silent; "I love you, son." "This is the will of God." I'm sure there were tears, lots of snot, maybe even an "I'm sorry". I can't believe that Isaac lay there motionless as Abraham, his FATHER raised the knife. I'm sure Abraham wasn't stone faced as he looked down at Isaac, the only son of his beloved wife, Sarah.
But he did it.
Isn't that the point that God's trying to get across to us? The promised son of Abraham, the son for whom he had waited nearly 100 years, was crying up at him from an altar of sacrifice, probably pleading for his life, but Abraham takes the knife and raises a trembling hand.
Despite the cost, despite the pain, despite the past, despite his conception of the promise that God had made him.
Abraham was willing to give up the first physical manifestation of a promise that God made many years ago. He laid his beloved son on an altar of sacrifice because he knew that his sacrifice was worth more on the altar than it was in his hands.
You know the story, just as Abraham is about to kill Isaac an angel pops out and tells him to step away. God spares Isaac's life because of the obedient and God fearing heart of a father.
Imagine if Abraham had been so caught up in what God had told him YESTERDAY that he couldn't hear what God was saying today. This story would have ended much differently.
So what is God asking you to lay on the altar of sacrifice? A job, a relationship, your children, your security, your future, your reputation? Whatever it is, know that your sacrifice is worth more on the altar than it could ever be worth in your hands.
God finally gave Abraham the one thing that he had been asking for his whole life - a son. Then God says "Okay, take Isaac up to the mountains, when you get there, I'll tell you where you can kill him for me".
Uhhmmmm....excuse me...God? You can't be serious!
But Abraham didn't say no. The next morning he got up, packed up the donkey, grabbed a couple of servants and took off to sacrifice his son.
Can you imagine what the hours leading up to that morning were like? The Bible doesn't say anything about Abraham arguing or pleading with God, although I'm sure that it crossed his mind.
Did he lay next to his wife and remember the day that Isaac was born? Did he try to spend some extra quality time with his son? Did he begin to grieve and freak everyone out?
All the Bible tells us is that "Early the next morning Abraham got up and saddled his donkey. He took with I'm two of his servants and his son Isaac. When he had cut enough wood for the burnt offering, he set out for the place God had told him about."
They got half way there and Abraham ditched the servants, maybe he didn't want witnesses to him killing his son...or MAYBE he didn't want anyone trying to talk him out of doing what HE KNEW God had told him to do.
The Bible says that Abraham took the wood for the altar and placed it on Isaac's shoulders, while he himself carried the knife and fire. I find it interesting that the author of Genesis thinks it is important to mention "Abraham took the wood for the burnt offering and placed it on his son Isaac, and he himself carried the fire and the knife." (Gen 22:6)
Why is this important for us to know? He put the altar on the sacrifice and he himself held the tools that could carry out the sacrifice.
Is God trying to show us that the sacrifice isn't NECESSARILY the most important thing, but the fact that we hold the ability to make the sacrifice in our hands, and that we have a heart that is willing to make any sacrifice that God calls us to no matter the cost to us?
When they're on this journey, Isaac starts to catch on. "Uh...Dad?" "Yes, son." "Dad, I see the wood, I see the fire, but where is the lamb?" Talk about AWKWARD! I mean imagine being Isaac, taking a hike up this mountain with his elderly father. He's probably thinking, "Okay, dad made us go all this way and the totally forgot the lamb!" but then Abraham says "God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering..." If i'm Isaac, I'm thinking that my dad has finally lost it, but Isaac continues on this journey.
They finally get to the place that God told them about and Abraham gets to work. He builds the altar, arranges the wood...then he goes after Isaac...
Now, we tend to look at the people in the Bible as "spiritual super heroes", perfect humans who never doubted, never feared and were never upset by the things that God told them to do...but I imagine a different picture here.
I feel like there was probably some yelling. "Dad! What are you doing?!" "Please don't hurt me!" "I'm your son, the one God promised you!" I'm sure Abraham wasn't silent; "I love you, son." "This is the will of God." I'm sure there were tears, lots of snot, maybe even an "I'm sorry". I can't believe that Isaac lay there motionless as Abraham, his FATHER raised the knife. I'm sure Abraham wasn't stone faced as he looked down at Isaac, the only son of his beloved wife, Sarah.
But he did it.
Isn't that the point that God's trying to get across to us? The promised son of Abraham, the son for whom he had waited nearly 100 years, was crying up at him from an altar of sacrifice, probably pleading for his life, but Abraham takes the knife and raises a trembling hand.
Despite the cost, despite the pain, despite the past, despite his conception of the promise that God had made him.
Abraham was willing to give up the first physical manifestation of a promise that God made many years ago. He laid his beloved son on an altar of sacrifice because he knew that his sacrifice was worth more on the altar than it was in his hands.
You know the story, just as Abraham is about to kill Isaac an angel pops out and tells him to step away. God spares Isaac's life because of the obedient and God fearing heart of a father.
Imagine if Abraham had been so caught up in what God had told him YESTERDAY that he couldn't hear what God was saying today. This story would have ended much differently.
So what is God asking you to lay on the altar of sacrifice? A job, a relationship, your children, your security, your future, your reputation? Whatever it is, know that your sacrifice is worth more on the altar than it could ever be worth in your hands.
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