twentytwenty

So today I celebrated one of my favorite holidays, Cheap Candy Day at Wal-Mart. For those of you that don't know, all the leftover candy from Valentine's Day is cheaper the day after. So as I commemorated this momentous occasion by wondering if I wanted to have candy for breakfast, I started to reminisce about how awkward Valentine's Day used to be.  Remember how it went, your grade school teacher would send you home with a note about bringing a brown paper bag to be covered with pink hearts and red arrows.  Then your mom would help you pick out the perfect box of cartoon decorated generic Valentines and stand over your shoulder while you scribbled your name over and over again on random Valentines for the kids on the other side of the classroom that you hadn't talked to since . . . well, that you had never talked to because they were always on the other side of everything because their last name started with W.  Then at the appointed time, everyone got up a placed one Valentine in every other student's bag. The whole affair was just awkward.

First, it bugged me that I had to give everyone a Valentine. The truth is I didn't like everyone in my classes. That kid that stole my lunch money every day, forget that joker! I won't lie to you, I don't hope you have a happy Valentine's Day. I hope all your candy hearts taste like chalk. Or the awkward girl that you knew had a crush on you and she was just looking for a glimmer of hope that you might like her back.  Remember how she would run around the classroom trying to decipher clues about the way you signed her card compared to everyone else's, all the while glancing in your direction, hoping to make eye contact. But the most tense moment of all was trying to find the one card that mattered from the girl you had a crush on since the first day of school.  You try to keep your cool on the outside, but on the inside you want to flip the bag in panic and throw away the other cards just to read hers.  And when you find it, your world is different.  All the other cards are pink and red noise on shiny paper, but hers is different.

Her card makes you feel like a man.  Her card makes you feel like you can jump over Mt. Kilimanjaro.  It makes you feel like you can actually beat up the kid who steals your lunch money every day.  It makes you feel like you can pass your spelling test.  Her card is just different,  Sure it was made by some random guy, eating a Subway sandwich in a cubicle from a template, but some how her card runs deeper.  The words ring truer. The phrase "BE MINE" burns more brightly in your memory than anything you have ever heard or seen in your life.  It is as if the graphic designer sat down with your crush and heard her heart and designed this card as her special message to you. The truth is I couldn't have cared less about the cards from the other twenty two crumb snatchers in the room, but her card made all the difference.

That's the Gospel to me. When I read it, my world is different.  This life is full of words, but all the criticism and adulation is noise compared to the words God speaks to me. I know the message on the pages of everyone's Bible is the same, but when I read Ephesians 3.20, and He says, "God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us. (The Message)"- it is as if He sat down with the apostle Paul and said write this for Mike.  When I hear his words, I feel  like a new man.  Like I can climb Mt. Kilimanjaro, or stand up to life and the bullies of my soul and win, or pass every test that this daily routine throws at me.  My life is different when I read God's words.

So I challenge you. Don't read God's Word as if it were just another card stuffed in the bottom of the brown paper bag, mixed in with all the other white noise of life.  Make it more than another negligible ornament in this awkward occasion we call Christianity.  Read as if you are searching for God's specific message to you.  I promise you will find it and it will make all the difference.  Happy Cheap Candy Day.

Can I make a confession? I assume you have been reading my blog long enough that we are friends and I can just be honest.  Or maybe this is your first read and my honest will be refreshing enough to start a conversation.  Either way, here comes some truth-- straight with no chaser.  I am a horrible man.  Not in terms of moral depravity and character.  I mean I have growing to do just like the next man, but I mean it in terms of being manly.  I am can't fix anything. I have never shot a gun (unless, paintball, laser tag, or Duck Hunt counts). I can't start a fire with two sticks.  I don't know how to change an air filter or how to clean a fish. I've never been fishing. I can't even swim. The truth is when this gets out, they are probably going to revoke my man card.  I am a city boy, who can tell you what the stats of the game were last night or troubleshoot your computer, but if you and I were stuck in the woods trying to survive, I have nothing to offer other than an extremely worried look on my face.

So lately life has tested my manliness.  And I have failed miserably.  I didn't even pass the permit test for my man card.

The first situation, I was traveling home for Christmas and got stuck in a snow storm.  After many episodes of getting my car stuck in snow drifts and having a local patron help me out, only to get stuck again, I was escorted to an emergency shelter.  What surprised me was how well equipped most people were for harsh conditions.  People had sleeping bags, dry snack foods, extra blankets, flares (which I am not sure what you would do with flares inside a building, but they had them), and all types of survival gear.  I had my computer and House Season 5 on DVD.  If it hadn't been for the grace of God and the benevolence of the city of Purcell, I would have been frozen in my car watching a DVD, praying that I survive the night.  The next morning, when I got out of the shelter, I still wasn't even equipped to get my car out of the snow drift where I had abandoned it.  The city manager had to drag it out. Man card test- fail.

The second situation was over Super Bowl weekend.  We were creating a cool illustration using dirt from our undeveloped church property and I went late Saturday evening to try to get more dirt to add to the visual effect of the illustration.  Somehow I managed to get my car stuck in the mud. So after about 45 minutes of spinning my wheels, both literally and figuratively, I called a friend for help.  Eventually, a friend with a bad boy Diesel 4x4 truck dragged me out of the mud the next afternoon (say whatever you want about gas guzzlers, but let me see your hybrid drag me out of the mud.)

So again, I failed my man card examination.  But I have learned a few things-

1. I hate being stuck.  There is no worse feeling than the sickening sound of your engine revving and the reality of your car being still.  And it always seems there is that moment of hope where your vehicle starts to move and then . . . nothing. You are stuck and alone.

2. I need a better car. If I see a movie where some guy in a Chevy Trailblazer saves the day, by driving through a snowy embankment or through a muddy valley.  I am suing the filmmaker for slander.

So, as I sat in my car, waiting for the calvary to come get me. I said to myself, why am I stuck again.  I hate feeling like this.  And it dawned on me.  Maybe my present condition was a metaphor for some of our spiritual conditions.  More than physically being stuck, I hate being spiritually stuck.  You know that feeling where you are pushing and pushing but your spiritual life is going nowhere.  And as you try and fight, you see everyone else on this same spiritual journey flying by you down the road.  And of course, you don't want to lay down your good Christian card and say you have a problem, so you fake it and keep spinning your wheels.

May I share some spiritual lessons with you, so you can pass this test-

1. Hate being stuck.  Hate it enough that you will do whatever it takes to get out.  Even calling people and asking for help.  You don't know how many times as a pastor, I see people who are stuck in their spiritual condition, but they love their pride more than they hate being stuck, so they fake like they are okay.  Even when you ask them if they need help, they smile and say, "I'm doing just fine." No, you're not. You are stuck- please hate it enough to let someone help you.

2. Don't go where your "car" isn't prepared to go.  Truth is I don't need a better car.  My car needs a better driver.  If I hadn't placed my car in situations that set it up for failure, it wouldn't have got stuck.  You are hold the steering wheel to your life.  Please don't steer your life into places that will get you stuck.  Better yet, take your hands off the wheel and let God's wisdom and Word drive you. My friend, Brian McNabb once said, "Your life is a soap opera because you enjoy starring in it." (you can tweet that if you'd like).  I dare say our "cars" get stuck because we enjoy driving through snow drifts and muddy ravines.

So, if you are stuck, please, please, please, call someone for help.  That's why we are here.  That's why we push small groups and community, because if it hadn't been for the city manager of Purcell or my friends who came to get me out of the mud, I'd still be there by myself.  Okay, probably not in the snow because I am sure it has melted, but you know what I mean.  We need each other and if your stuck, there is no shame in needing someone to help pull you out.

. . . and one more thing. As unmanly as it may be to not be prepared to be stuck in a snow storm, I never want to get good at being stuck, I'd rather just not get stuck.