Strip clubs

Some of my best friends tried to take me to a strip club for a bachelor party experience. These were guys who loved me, loved Jesus, but under the banner that this was some rite of passage they were able to set aside the disconnect between this one-time (presumably) experience and following Jesus in a way that glorifies him and makes him famous.

I had to quote scripture and get pretty "preachy" to escape this ambitious undertaking by my buddies. I'm pretty sure I ruined the master party plan.

Without drawing lines anywhere that Scripture doesn't create boundaries, it seems to me that we dare not wink at sin anytime or anywhere. Again, if the Bible is OK with me having a drink, I should be able to hoist one. But it seems really clear that I should not get drunk, so is it OK if I don't laugh that off when my fellow brothers and sisters drink too much?

Some people lean into sin as if it represents the good life, something that we have agreed to no longer access as a result of our love for Jesus. This reasoning is as flawed as the married man who is saddened because his vows to one woman have taken him out of circulation with lots of other women. "Love God and do as you please" is the maxim St. Augustine used to guide us. I find the sequence critical to this process. I didn't want to hit the strip club years ago precisely because my love relationship with God meant--and means--too much. Sin isn't to be trifled with by me if it is important to God.

Sore feet

I walked today with a long time friend, celebrating God's goodness and rescue of him after years where he was an arrogant idiot, spending money and trashing others' lives like they were playthings to which he was entitled.

Last night I had walked with another long time friend, searching for God's comfort, for answers, for a way to help him get through the garbage he is facing and, then, for a way that I could tangibly be of benefit to him.

Neither time was I wearing comfortable walking shoes. Now I've got blisters.

How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, “Your God reigns!” --Is 52:7

Let's imagine, for point of argument, that my feet are beautiful. Right now, I'm just saying, these dogs hurt! Worth it though.

Little moves and a lifelong trajectory

I'm in my 39th year of following Jesus. Since I began this walk by making a deliberate choice when I was nearly 16, it simply doesn't seem possible that it's been that long. I'm grateful and still in wonder about this experience.

Sometimes I think about decisions made or not made so many years ago and wonder how the trajectory of my life would be different had I chosen differently. For instance, back in 1981 I remember floating the idea with Susie of getting rid of our little TV. Frankly, I was worried that the notion of turning it on to veg and relax and even escape the daily ministry strains was somehow not a healthy pattern for my heart. We didn't do it, dismissing the idea as an overreaching response, too radical and a lifestyle move that was simply unnecessary. After all, a little discipline applied to TV watching and everything would be under control, right?

I've got a great new 48" HD TV right now. It feels like the natural trajectory of a 1981 decision. I know it wasn't inevitable, but our lives get built one choice at a time. Today's decisions are made easier or harder based on my history of related choices. So today--when my wife has the TV remote control and I get the shakes until she surrenders it to me--I suspect I'm just reaping what I sowed.

Better the next time

I wrote an article a couple of months ago that got published last week. Got some immediate sweet feedback from a couple of people whose opinions I value very much. So I'm strutting around a bit, at least inside. I really LOVE doing good work that is appreciated.

Then I got an e-mail last night from another friend who read the article and expressed genuine disappointment in one thing that was missing from the piece. I think he was being unfair, either accusing me of being incompetent for my oversight or not caring. The truth is that the article's focus was never intended to address what my buddy thought was missing…but my illustrations sure made his perception fair.

My inclination was to fire back an e-mail as a counter punch. In fact, it was more than just an idea. My finger was a quarter of an inch from the "send" button before I decided to see if I could express myself without being defensive. Version 2 did the trick. The truth is, I am really sorry that my best effort disappointed someone. When that happens I end up second-guessing whether it could have really been an honest best effort, as if it were possible to please everyone if I only did everything perfectly right.

I slept like a baby after apologizing and promising to try and do better next time (like the guys on PTI). It's the truth and it set me free.