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.