Simple Prayers

We've all had those days when the ups and downs of life get to us. Thursday was that type of day for me, but I had one of those divine moments with my eldest daughter that brought me back to the joy of G-d's Spirit within. I asked her to pray for me. If you've never had a four year old pray for you I highly recommend it.

It went something like this, "Abba, help Daddy feel better. And help him to have a better day. Amen."

That's it? Yeah, that's it!

No grandiose petition. No verbose litany. No pre-packaged words. Just her heart for her daddy.

I think Abba loves that same level of prayer from His creation. I can imagine Him listening to the long-winded incantations and thinking, "Just talk with me!"

Eden taught me that radical, Spirit-centered joy can be rediscovered through the simplest, shortest, most honest prayers. To-the-point prayers. Loving prayers. Prayers centered on others' well-being. I think those are the types of conversations our heavenly Dad is just waiting to have with us.

Because You're Daddy

Thirty-two years. That's how long I went before I had to get stitches. Not a bad run, I say. But when you forget you're thirty-two and go diving for a loose basketball, stitches are bound to happen.

I wasn't crazy about the idea of having a small sharp object threaded through my upper lip, but I also didn't want to miss an opportunity to show my girls how one can be brave and at the same time a bit worried when going to get shots and stitches at the doctor. The convo with my second daughter went something like this:

Me: You know, Avers, Daddy's a little afraid about going to the doctor for a shot.

Avery: You can't be afraid.

Me (she had my attention): Oh, why's that?

Avery: Because you're Daddy. (Said with a very matter-of-fact tone.)

I think my heart actually melted in my chest that very moment.

How often have I wanted to say those very same words to my heavenly Daddy but balked in doubt? Not Avery. She said it assuredly. She said it with more faith than I feel I'll ever be able to muster.

I am reminded of the promise of G-d, "...as sure as the sunshine." Can I be that confident in Him? He says I can. Can I trust that He will be my rock when times are rough and fear crouches at the door of my heart? Can I bring my prayers and requests to Him with the same childlike faith that Avery showed me or will I let the circumstances of life dictate my response?

Can I rest on, "Because you're Abba-Daddy"?

What Do Riddles, Dunk Contests, and Cerebral Palsy Have in Common?

My children and I love to play guessing games, and "Solve My Riddle" is one of our favorites. It's a fun game that gets our minds stirred up. Typically, we choose things like animals and give each other three clues in which to guess the answer. "Solve my riddle...what has stripes, looks like a horse, and lions like to eat it?" You get the idea.

I was thinking about this game tonight after reading an article about an ordained minister in Hurst, Texas, Susan Slade, who has cerebral palsy. Ironically, I read the article right after watching the NBA dunk contest. Here are dozens of grown men living it up at All Star Weekend in Houston, dunking basketballs with ease while jumping over random objects and people. All the while, thousands of fans watch from the stands, in awe of not just the physical talents of some of America's best athletes but also of the privileged lifestyles many of them get to lead. At the same time, not more than four hours north of Houston, lies (literally) Susan Slade on a bed in the home of her great grandmother. She types out sermon notes and encouraging e-mails with the only two moving parts on her entire body--the thumb and forefinger on her right hand. The ironic juxtaposition couldn't be ignored.

Whether you're LeBron James or Susan Slade, every person lives their short earthly lives with a burning question. It's birthed as a whisper. As we get older, if we don't find an answer to this question, it will perpetually pull at the corner of our minds. Eventually, it builds into a steady drone. And finally, the closer we come to death, the more it crescendos into a cacophony, until those who have left it unanswered can no longer do so. What is the purpose of your life?

The beautifully-written Susan Slade article went on to illustrate that despite her condition, Susan has found a deep purpose in living her life focused on others. Her godly eternal perspective (i.e. faith) is what fuels her whole existence. And then I thought of a great riddle...

What can never be taken by force or ever forced on another person?

Susan Slade has the answers to both my riddle and this burning question we all share. It resides deep within her heart and is released every day as she blesses others through her unselfishness, joy, peace, patience, kindness, and love.

Here's the article link if you're interested: http://www.arcamax.com/religionandspirituality/religiousnews/s-1265164

And here's a link to a not-as-impressive-but-still-jaw-dropping list of best dunk contest dunks (according to Sports Illustrated): http://nba.si.com/2013/02/14/michael-jordan-nba-slam-dunk-contest-best-vince-carter-dwight-howard/#

Jesus' Greatest Miracle (Mystery)

"Eden, what do you think Jesus' greatest miracle was?" I threw out this random question last week, but my sharp-minded, ever-surprising 4 year old was ready for it. At this point, I'm thinking she'd bust out one of the favorite Gospel stories she was forever requesting at bedtime. Which Jesus would she bring into her answer: Water-walking Jesus? Maybe food-multiplying Jesus? Or surely she'd answer with the gentle healer Jesus!

Her response hit me square in the soul and blew away any answer I had previously formulated in my mind: "Daddy, you know Jesus' greatest miracle was when He was raised from the dead."

Little did she realize that wrapped up in her poignantly simple response is the greatest Mystery of our known universe, and the greatest stumbling block to faith in the G-d we call Abba, Son, and Spirit.

Now, I don't believe my daughter is necessarily some theological prodigy. She's not enrolled in the local Kindergarten Seminary for Bible Geniuses. She's just...a child.

In Matthew 18 Jesus was asked how one is to enter the Kingdom of G-d, and when His answer came I have a feeling those questioning Him had a very similar reaction as the one I had to Eden's statement--surprise mixed with a bit of embarrassment. He said we must change and be like children. I can see why.

Recently, I became like a child as it relates to the mystery of Jesus. I have been struggling for the past 7 years to wrap my mind around who Jesus is. I have been questioning all of the theology I was spoon fed as a Christian my whole life, including all of what I was taught on the way to earning my degree in theology. I toiled in the mire of my limited human-minded analyzation. I finally arrived at the conclusion...if I continue to wait for it all to "make sense," I'll never be able to "become like a child".

I felt like Peter when Jesus said to him, "You didn't get this answer on your own, Peter. My Father gave it to you" (Matthew 16:17).

Salvation is a gift. Coming to a place of accepting the role and nature of who Jesus is is a wonderfully mysterious present given to us by the Father. Accepting without fully understanding. I can't "figure it out on my own".

New questions began to arise within me, "How did G-d break off a piece of Himself, deposit it on earth in the shell of human form, kill it, revive it, reunite it to Himself, and then break off another piece of Himself in the form of a Spirit, separate from the Jesus piece, and then commission the Spirit piece to stay on earth? Furthermore, how did all three of those pieces reside and work together at the start of our human history to breathe life into a dry, dusty, dirt-y clay skeleton called 'Adam' (which means 'man')?" Huh? Can you run that back one more time?

Honestly, I don't know the answer. I'm actually chuckling as I write this because I'm ok with not knowing the answer after 7 years of striving so hard to know the answer. Ironically, all I had to do was ask a 4 year old.

I should have known what her answer would be...

"Daddy, you know it's magic!" (Translation: Mystery)

His Still Small Voice

How do you hear G-d? Do you hear Him at all? Sometimes I wonder if I ever really "hear" him. Is that word a misnomer in this context? Can we truly listen to God with our ears? Samuel would say, "Yes, definitely!" (1 Samuel 3)

As would Saul (who later became the Apostle Paul), Mary, Joseph, and John. G-d spoke to each of them in unique ways. His Word came down and they heard it with their ears. Ironically, they weren't even necessarily waiting and listening when He spoke. G-d interrupted their daily lives and spoke loud and clear the message He wanted them to hear. They perked up.

My oldest kid, Eden (she's 4 1/2), came to me and my wife a few days ago and told us that Abba spoke to her. Our immediate response was, "Oh, Abba spoke to your 'heart'? That's great, sweetie!"

Eden interrupted unquestionably, "No, not my heart. He spoke to my ear."

Katie and I looked at each other with a look that could kill...faith...

Ashamed and embarrassed, we admitted to each other and G-d later, "Who are we to doubt G-d's voice?" Why not? Why couldn't Eden hear his voice with more than her heart? Thankfully, a 4 year old's face-reading abilities are not quite as sharp, and she went about her business after her matter-of-fact declaration.

Eden taught us a great lesson that day: Be ready to praise and recognize G-d's voice when it comes and to have the faith to say, "Speak Lord to our ears...not just our hearts!"

Close to Home

 Jesus gave a directive to his disciples, those who believe he is the Messiah, the anointed/promised one from Abba G-d. He said, "Go out and do as I have done...make disciples." He didn't say convince others. He didn't say get in a debate. And he didn't ask us to collect converts, persuading as many as we can that Jesus' message is the best News out there.

I realized this past week that I don't have to travel far to find my first disciples. I don't have to journey down a dirt road to Egypt like Philip did. I don't have to be arrested and sent before an emperor (in my case, president) like Paul did. All I have to do is wake up, put my pants on one leg at a time, flip the switch, and walk out into the living room. My first disciples will soon meet me. They are still dreaming.

My first disciples love it when I teach them, although, initially, they often squirm when they don't get what they want. My first disciples love to hear me say "well done". And they love to cuddle in my lap and snuggle while we pray. My first disciples love it when I kiss their boo boos and tell them that Abba even cares about their scrapes and bruises. My first disciples are like sponges.

This is when it hits close to home...they are hanging on every move, every word I speak, because that's what disciples do. They listen and watch...a lot. I am responsible to them. I am accountable to them. The heaviness of this truth met me full steam. It's an awesome thought.

My children taught me that every parent is a disciple-maker, whether they take on the responsibility or not. Parents either teach toward Abba G-d or they teach away from Him.

G-d, help me...help all of us parents...to be great disciple-makers to our children.

Mirror Images

Growing up do you remember promising yourself that you'd never sound like your parents when disciplining your own children? Oh, the one-liners were truly ridiculous. My favorite: "I brought you into this world, and I can take you out!" Really?! You actually threatened to kill me if I didn't obey you, Dad? Nice tactic! (I think he'd agree now that this was pretty silly. Even if it did get me to treat my younger sister with kindness for 15 minutes!)

I made a vow when I became a father that I wouldn't turn into "that" phrase-spouting parent, caught in the hype of a moment, ready to dish out groundless ultimatums. Admittedly, I've had my fair share of those moments. We try so hard as parents to be good to our kids, but quickly learn that our "junk" will eventually make it's way to the surface, and we'll have to face it in the words and actions of our kids. They are a reflection of me.

I'm a worrier, and I hate that part of my "junk". For sure, I can get some good mileage out of it. When I worry I anticipate what's going to happen, and then ultimately I am better able to control the situation, thus getting the result I desire. The comedic irony in that approach is that I cannot worry long enough to anticipate every possible situation. One can easily end up in the mud, spinning his wheels in frustration, with this type of approach to life and it's challenges. I've found out the hard way (eating a lot of mud!) that trusting my heavenly Abba is a far better approach than worrying, but the junk still comes out! And the rub is that my kids see it and respond. In turn, they then begin to worry as well. It's not rocket science. They repeat what is modeled. If I want my kids to be a ball of anxiety when it comes to test-taking in school then I will let them see me hit the panic button over obligations and responsibilities. Do I want my children to value material possessions over self-controlled, thought-out spending? All I need to do is go through my paycheck right after I receive it.

Ultimately, I do believe that God uses this dynamic as a mirror image for parents and eventually children. The good news is that He can receive glory from the growth steps we take as His ever-developing creation. When faced with the sobering reality that we're watched models seven days a week, parents can either fold-up or step-up. I would imagine that most parents are interested in stepping up. One's heartfelt interest is quite different than translating desire into action, though.

My children have taught me, that the growth for both parent and child happens in the striving and in the realization that we cannot go it alone. I know I need others...friends' wise counsel, my wife's gentle encouragement, my childrens' kind forgiveness, and most importantly, my heavenly Abba's Spirit springing forth inside me, compelling me to change!