God's Love

About three weeks ago, the man, Jesus of Nazareth exploded in my heart. For the past decade, and seemingly my entire life, I've been crying on the inside, cloaked in self hatred and feeling worthless. I have lived with the terrible and extremely logical lie that God only loves those who are flawless. He prefers the china in the cabinet than the broken pot lying desolate on the floor. That lie has kept me blinded to the gospel of grace embodied in the last sigh of a man who chose death in exchange for my life.

It was another weekend at "the Ranch." My good friend Marcus ever so often rallies some of us together to enjoy the beautiful hill country and Perdinallis river that is his in-laws ranch. It was a typical weekend there (if I may call anything we do at the ranch "typical"). We had stayed up late playing poker, worshiping God (these types of things go hand in hand there). I woke up early on Saturday morning and put my feet to the rocky path that led beside the river. Fumbling through my iPod, and with a great yawn, my thumb found something that didn't belong in my music library. "1992-1993" was the title of the curious album, and in moments I found the artist name as "Brennan Manning." "This is that podcast I downloaded for Robin to listen to." I thought to myself. Reading the title, "Experiencing and Responding to God's Great Love" I decided I should listen to it. Dangerous discision.

What preceded, has authentically and irreversably been the experience of recieving a new heart. A heart that finally after 29 years of thinking God didn't care about me unless I was doing either something for him, or at least obstaining from some sin, caught the glimps of his truth, that he comes to where I live and loves me as I am, not as I should be. Because no one is as they "should" be. I have heard throughout my life that "God loves me," that "God is love," that "God so loved the world that he gave his only son." I have sang the songs, answered the questions in heart felt study of his word, and I've even told other people the same thing. But rarely have I ever experienced it. Rarely have I tasted its wildness. It's almost scary how much he loves us. It's unfair, radical, pure, and he can't help himself.

Now everything in scripture, on the radio, through my window, in every person's eye, I see this echo of deep unquenchable, unconditional love. It's broken the power of addiction off my life, brought healing to the deepest parts of my being, and it's broken me to the core.

I have spent the last couple of years searching for purpose. I even picked up, The Purpose Driven Life. All of it seems so silly in this old love I've newly discovered. Knowing the truth that God loves me come hell or high water makes "purpose" unattractive to me. To reach beyond this new essential purpose, "To love and me loved by God," is something I don't have much desire for. I would be happy if I just stayed here the rest of my life. Because out of the overflow of knowing that I'm loved, has come great confidence to walk on the water of life. I do believe I'll find myself doing great things in life and having great "purpose" but it will not be because I think those great things define me or have any effect on my life's meaning. It will simply be because now that I've tasted of God's love, I don't care about anything else.

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One morning I began to write down scriptures that speak of God's great love on white heart shaped peices of paper and display them all over the house for my wife and I to have the experience that we are surrounded in God's love. I figured she'd keep them up a day and then take them down. She likes a clean house. That was over a week ago.

Press & Pull

Have you ever heard the phrase, "Press through it." It comes up in the Christian sub-culture a lot. "I just need to press through it, brother." In most cases, these people are referring to a difficult trial or circumstance in their lives, where if they "press through" (implication - 'into God') that they'll land somewhere upon God's golden floor and land gently at his feet. We "press into God" when facing marital problems. We "press into God" when we encounter financial problems. We "press into God" when just about anything comes our way that is more than we can handle. I "press into God" almost daily.

There is nothing wrong with "pressing into God," but what one needs to be careful with is the statement's presupposition. The dangerously false presupposition is "if I don't press into God, he won't be there for me," or "I've got to press in if there's going to be any type of change happen." The biblical and correct presupposition is, "God's pulling me hard, and if I just press into him a little bit, He well pull me through."

I used to think that "pressing into God" was digging my own way out of the cave. Boots strapped tight, mustering all strength, to just get to the other side. It's silly really. God is HUGE. He's so BIG. These words don't even scratch the surface of his power. Not to mention his jealous, passionate, unbridled love for us. He goes crazy when we are hurting, or when are backs are up against the wall. HE CAN'T STAND IT!!! So he pulls with all his might to woo us to himself. Meanwhile we're trying so hard to "press in brother," and all we really need to do is simply wait. Wait on the Lord. Listen to his voice. Meditate on his great love and power to pull you through rather than your power to launch yourself towards him.

Two nights ago, my son, Jude, was asleep while Robin and I were watching television downstairs. We heard a sharp shriek, loud and alarming sound off from his crib. Like bolts of lightening we shot up the stairs, hearts pounding. We flipped on the lights and there he was moving quietly sound asleep. It must have been a dream or something, but he was certainly fine. I had the thought, "God rushes like that when we are hurting!" Jude didn't have to "press into me" in order for me to run to his aid. He simply cried. And there wasn't anything wrong! How much more does our Heavenly Father run to us when we are in pain. How much more quickly does he respond, and how much more powerful is his outstretched arm towards us, than ours towards his.


*Photograph taken by Stacy Cross: www.stacycross.com

A Poem

Oh sweet water of life, I wait for you in the silence.  I sit, I choose to sit. I choose to sit still with my hands folded and think only of your love.  Like a small pool of water that begins to seep from the ground,  the knowledge of your love begins to slowly surround me.  Forgetting every distraction and thinking only of you, weightless it lifts me.  All my fear and shame...feelings of failure and embarrassment, scarcity and pain dissolve in the cool brisk touch of your waters.  Cover me now.  Let me swim deeper.  Let me float higher but never to reach the top.  Let me drown in your love...for in the death of these waters, I am tasting life.  A life of forgiveness so sweet, I could never imagine.  A delight so intoxicating my heart and lungs beg for more, breathing in deeper. more freely this time.

How many swims have I missed?  How many waters have I traded for the absense of this?  Your love is like a pool of perfect water.  Cleanse me in it.  Baptize me.  For there is no danger of too much of your love, of too much of your water.  The depths of your waters scare my shame and draw me close through the embrace of your death into life.  Drink.

The Lepers & Jim

My friend and counselor, Jim, gave a talk on Sunday morning that really rocked my world. As the first slide of his power point lit up, I read the statement, "Seek Him!" and sunk. O, great. I thought. Another sermon that's going to make me feel horrible for the ways I'm not seeking God. My defenses were starting to go up even before the opening prayer as my mind raced through the past week trying to remember which mornings I spent time with God, and where I needed to "tune up."

This past month, I've felt so distant from God. It's something I've always struggled with. There is something wired in me (a lie) that believes I must be cool and collected or have everything together before I come and spend time with the "Almighty." I'm not sure where or when that was taught to me, or if I just created that belief on my own. And even though I know it's not true, in the midst of pain, I find myself believing it. I'm in one of these places, and Jim's talking about it.

"I want to start with this idea." Jim speaks in a soft voice which is opposite of his appearance. He is a big dude with facial hair. "God seeks us...he initiates being with us!" It was a good reminder, I thought. I remember first really understanding that through reading A.W. Tozer's The Pursuit of God. I'm all ears though, because at least his first point wasn't "Get your act together, you filthy slime." Which was what I usually hear in my head. The editors. You know, the editor, or 'tors in your head that rewrite a truth into something less than the powerfully pure truth it is presented with. Like when your friend says, "I love you," and you're thinking, "Ya, right..." that sort of thing.

Jim presents scripture on how God is after us. My prideful heart starts to melt a little as I realize how desperately I need to understand in a new and deeper way what he's talking about. He goes on, and shares a story from his own life and asks us to think of a time from our own lives when we experienced God's initiation of pursuit of us. I think of a time, and thank the Lord, but there is something about to break, and I'm not sure what.

Jim gives a lead in for his second point: "He wants us to seek Him!" There it is...great...here comes the shame, guilt, feeling distant again, this...this is what I was afraid of...I thought and smirked my lips in disappointment...not towards Jim, but myself...also thinking...Okay dude, you got it comming...you're "time with Jesus" track record hasn't been all that great lately. I was still all ears, but like hands that fly up just before a car crash, I was listening.

Then, the curve ball of truth happened. You know those times when you tell a buddy, or a parent, or your wife that you've hurt them and you're sorry, expecting a punch or a drop kick to the face, but you don't get it? Instead, you get, "I forgive you, I love you." It doesn't happen all that often, but when it does it almost makes you feel worse and all better at the same time? It's...sobering. Jim cocked back a strong arm, steading himself, and thru the curve ball of Luke chapter 17 right in my face. I was mortally wounded and will forever be changed.

"Do you remember the story about the ten lepers?" Of course I do. I didn't, but nodded anyway...as a pastor of a church, you should know all the stories. He goes on. "Remember how Jesus had ten lepers come with him (he went on to describe how horrible leprosy was...which I remember from watching Braveheart). Ten lepers come to Jesus and ask to be healed and Jesus says, "Present yourselves to the council in Jerusalem," and so they went, and as they went, they were healed. Jim spoke of how much faith they had, which was cool, but then he said this: "Do you remember what happens next? One of the lepers runs back to Jesus, throws himself at his feet and worships him. and do you remember what Jesus said?" I didn't. "He said, didn't I send ten of you? Where are the other nine?" Then the ball hit the glove and I had swung and missed. "Jesus was sad." Jim said.

Tears welled up in my eyes. To think that Jesus was sad, and not angry, blew my mind. It was this curve ball that I'm continuing to swing at as it literally messes up the lie in my head that God is a distant Father, to one who simply misses me, and is sad when I don't show up.

During communion, I shared with Robin and we prayed together. I cried and cried, and I repented. "Forgive me father for how I bargain my time with you...Oh I didn't get up in time this morning, so I'll just grab 10 min later...I think you'd rather me skip the thing and just be present with you." I prayed more, but don't remember what. The point is, that I need Jesus, and he wants me.

Father, may I never treat you like a dog in a crate that I take out to play with or pay attention to, and then put you back and go about my day. And may I constantly be aware of your emotions and not just my own. May we continue to grow closer together in love and intimacy, and may you continue to shatter the distance with your love and affection for me. -Amen.

NOTE: The above image taken from google images.

Just Cut it Off

If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life maimed than with two hands to go into hell, where the fire never goes out. And if your foot causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life crippled than to have two feet and be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out. It is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into hell, where "their worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched." -Jesus

Desperate for Jesus

I'm desperate for Jesus. Desperate for him to come and shake, shake, shake. "Come and split it all wide open." I say. "Come and shake this heart of mine." Take it in your hands and make it something new. Take the monotony and make something magnificent. Bless, Break, & Give, not just communion wine & bread, but a heart as well. A new heart.

Dear God, This Sucks!

Being completely honest with God is not always easy but it's simple. Throughout the scriptures, we find the word "cry." In the Psalms, in some of the writings of the prophets, we're encouraged to "cry out." Jesus wept. God was angry at man. All of these things add up to honesty. I think that God longs for us to be honest with him.

Why aren't we always honest with God? I've been learning how vital it is to my life to be emotionally connected with God by simply expressing my feelings with him. Especially when they're not very pretty. I used to think that I had to use "holy language" or something, as if the God of the Universe couldn't handle a pip-squeak like me getting a few things off of my chest.

If something is really bothering my wife and I, we have to deal with it. Typically it's because I've messed up. I'm angry and she's angry. So what happens if we don't share it? Distance. Why should it be any different with God?

I'm learning that as I share my deepest feelings with God, (unedited) I am able to trust and love him more completely. I so desperately need a place to "tell it like it is" and I've found no better place than the ears of Jesus.

May we all learn how to walk through the wreckage of our lives in the comfort of knowing God hears us.

Simplicity

I can easily make things in life so completely complicated that I drown out a healthy dose of rest and simplicity. As I was praying this morning, I was reminded of the simplicity of Jesus' words and stories. I was also drawn back to the simplicity of just knowing him and being with him.

There's a story in the Bible about two women, Mary & Martha. So, Jesus goes to their house, and once Jesus sits down, Mary goes to hang out with him while Martha is still scurrying around the house trying to tidy things up. Jesus tells Martha, "Hey, you should just chill with us, like Mary's doing." At least, that's the story in a nutshell.

There are countless times in the Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke and John) where you can find stuff like, "Jesus walked out of the woods to come be with his disciples, or Jesus went out to pray all by himself in a natural setting, or Jesus went to be by himself to pray. All of these things were hitting me and I thought:

The best thing I can do for myself or anyone else in life, is to simply be with God.

I did this painting a while back, and I was drawn to a lot of symbolism in it. The sheep, the shadow of the trees, the lock (door) and the wood, as well as the map. All of which are Biblical references to one's journey not only to Salvation but through Sanctification as well. Which is a little funny to use those terms when it's a picture of a bunch of sheep. Ah well.

PROSKUNEO

PROSKUNEO is the greek word used in the New Testament (Covenant) for WORSHIP. What's interesting about this word is that it comes from two different words in the Greek that give us "To move towards as if to kiss, and to bow down, lay prostrate or worship." Now, I'm not a student of Greek, but I trust W.E. Vine's Expository Dictionary of NT Words. So, I'll take his word for it.

I used to think of worship as something that is really stiff and rigid, and had to involve an organ of some kind and a suit and tie. Over the years, I've come to discover worship as a wide variety of things. I've worshiped God jumping up and down, with my hands raised, flat on the floor, silent as a stone, and I've even learned how to worship God to an organ while wearing a suit.

The trouble with me is that I struggle to make it a part of my every day experience. And while studying the very word "worship," I came to understand something very clear. We were created to have relationship with other people, and with God. The very nature of our interaction with people shouldn't be different than our interactions with God. People cry, God cries. When we cry, (hopefully) a friend cries with us. So does God!

When I fell in love with Robin, I wanted to KISS her!

I wouldn't have kissed her without really knowing her. And yet I find myself in places where it's hard to worship God - and it's because there's something about his Character that I'm NOT getting. Worship is an intimate thing. God desires to woo us into that intimate place, not force us or guilt us into it. How horrible would it be if I said to my wife, "Hey, you really need to kiss me right now!" That's not fun.

I think the word Proskuneo really says it all. Worship is a vulnerable thing when we worship in Spirit and Truth. When we come to God as rag-tag and beat up as we are, or whatever state we're in - that we're being honest. No masks, no fluff. No Sunday morning smile (unless it's authentic). That's where God longs to draw us.

When the reality of where we are collides with the truth of who he is, the human heart can not help but be wooed to a place where it so desires to kiss the face of God.

Mom & Dad

Now that I'm a parent, I've grown particularly interested in my relationship with my own parents. It's hard to imagine them holding me the way I hold my son, Jude. I wonder what I was like as a baby. I think about the way I love my baby and wonder if that's how they felt about me.

The other day, I was holding Jude on my lap thinking about Joseph. OK, so God was Jesus' Dad, yes, but so was Joseph. Joe probably held Jesus the way I hold my baby. It's easy for me to understand how Joe felt towards little Jes. But I don't have an easy time picturing God the Father loving on little Jes the same way. I know he deeply loved and cared for Jesus. Why else would Jesus say a prayer like what's found in John 17, if there wasn't an intimate love there. Now, in my Bible, John 17 is all about God the Father, and I wonder, what about Joe? What were Jesus' emotions like towards his Dad? Or was Jesus' knowledge of God's love for him so brilliantly true, that he didn't feel the need for his earthly Father's love?

Do You Remember That Night?

Do you remember that night? You held me like a child. Man. I remember it so well. So well.

I just wrote that in my journal. I was asking Jesus if he remembers the first night that I actually felt his manifest presence. It's what the Jewish people refer to as Shekinah Glory or the Holy of Holies. The place where only the priest could enter and it was also where the ark of the covenant was kept. Later of course, Jesus changed all that. When he died on the cross, the veil in the temple that blocks off the Holy of Holies was torn completely from top to bottom, showing that anyone can now enter a crazy experience with God, not just the priests.

One night (I was 15 years old) I was attending this send off service before church camp. I had to work my Summer job, so I couldn't go, so I just went to the send off deal. Anyway, this guys talking about having a "personal relationship," with God, and I'm thinking, "This is total BS." He was talking about how great it is, etc. I couldn't stand it anymore. I had been a Christian most of my life, and I'd never experienced what this guy was talking about, so he must be wrong, right? I was so ticked off. Standing up, and turning every eye in the room, I walked down the long aisle and made sure the door was opened with enough noise to make my point.

I began walking down Brown Street, in Round Rock, Texas in the hot thickness of Summer. My heart was pounding. I felt sick. The kind of feeling you get when you get your heart broken. I stopped, looked at the stars, and that's when it happened.

I broke. My heart melted. My mind was covered in a warm blanket. My eyes were opened, and for the first time, I didn't care about what I was supposed to be, do, feel, act, experience...like a child. I was weeping so hard I felt I had to hide in case any friends came out to find me. I hid behind an old air conditioner unit beside the church, sat down, and continued to cry. That's when (literally) I felt two arms wrap around my body and squeeze. God hugged me.

Lately I've been in need of that again. I just need to be hugged by God. He can hug me any way he wants, I'll take what I can get. If that's through a person, great. If that's through music, a movie, the stars, a painting, anything, that's great. Or if he chooses, he may just physically put his arms around me again and whisper, "It's alright."

I Love the Judester

My son, Jude Everett Hollis was born 2 months ago on January 8, 2008. I love him so much. He already weighs 15 pounds. He's a slugger. He recently started smiling and that's really fun. He has soft skin and I love the way his breath smells. In the morning when he wakes up, he's really chipper and coos a lot.

Before Jude was born I had a lot of fear about being a Dad. The biggest was wondering if he'd screw up like I do, or if in some way, I'd be a bad Father. There were a few times that it kept me up at night. I had fears that I wouldn't know how to hold him or calm him, or that all my sin was going to mess him up when he was older or something.

But when I held him in my arms for the very first time, all of that fear ran away. The Bible says that "Perfect love drives out fear." God's perfect love was evident to me in the face of this tiny little baby. That precious little child showed me a love that chased away all of that big fear. He's a slugger, and God is good. I'm so thankful that God has given him to Robin and I. And you know what? I think God knows better than I do. I think he gave me Jude because I'm going to be an Awesome Daddy.

Props to Stacy Cross for taking this picture: Stacy Cross Photography

Feeling Distant

Man, today, I don't think there are words really. I feel pretty whacked out. Out of shape, out of sleep, and out of time. I desperately need Jesus. I feel depressed today, and I'm longing for you.

God, You are my God; I shall seek You earnestly;
My soul thirsts for You, my flesh yearns for You,
In a dry and weary land where there is no water.
-Psalm 63:1

Sometimes, when I sin, when I fall, I don't know how to get back up. I still struggle with feeling distant from God when I blow it. There is a place somewhere inside of me that just doesn't get GRACE or FORGIVENESS. I've experienced lot's of both but...what am I trying to say? It's like a child running to his Father because he touched the stove top and it hurt. He knew he wasn't supposed to, and his Daddy told him "No!" but when he feels the burn and the pain, there is no thinking; he instinctively runs to his Dad.

Why is that so hard for me? Why do I have such trouble seeing God as a loving Father who welcomes me and all my pain? Why is it so easy for me to go to the far corners of the earth and tell others that God welcomes their pain, yet find it so difficult for myself to do the same thing?

I must rest in the knowledge that I don't have a clear picture of who God is, that the one I have needs re-wiring. I know that he is good and he is faithful. I know that he will answer me.