Tag / Jesus

by Greg

Approval

What if… you never received approval from anyone? Would you still be OK? Could you still be… you, without some form of approval; healthy, or unhealthy?

I’m really not sure what answer—if any—would be the “right” answer to those questions. I’m not even sure I have any answer.

The fact that we members of the human race, created in the Image of God, made in His Likeness, are not like him in that we have needs.

God is complete in himself. He is holy, other, different, omni-everything. But he chose in his unfathomable wisdom to create us as autonomous, free-willed, individual beings. I’m really not sure what the entirety of “made in God’s image” looks like, but I am learning more and more that he has clearly given us the ability to choose; every time, good and bad.

(NOTE: That doesn’t mean he doesn’t sometimes intervene—though he definitely doesn’t always—and it doesn’t negate his supreme sovereignty. In his sovereignty he was able to choose to allow us to choose. And yes, that does boggle the mind; has for millennia.)

But we are not like him in that we need.

We need food, drink, shelter, companionship, among other things. God is spirit, and so he does not need most of those things. He does have companionship/relationship within himself (Father, Son, Holy Spirit), but since they have existed as one from the beginning… it’s hard to classify their triune existence as being “needed” by any or all of the three? Again… boggling minds since the beginning of time…

While some of our needs are easily quantifiable, others are less so.

That leads me to our need for “approval”. On some level, we all need this. Some of us really need it, and will go to great lengths to get it. And, if we do not receive approval (in the way in which we hear/receive it) then we will turn to something else to meet (or, really, help us ignore) that need: drugs, alcohol, food, and other addictions.

This need is incredibly strong.

Which makes me wonder… is this need more of an evidence of our deepest need to be connected to our Creator? We need God for everything (in him we live and move and exist) but perhaps we need him most to meet our need to be approved, to have value.

Ah, there it is again. That word “value“.

When we are approved, be it for some accomplishment, some talent, or just some inborn quality we possess, it is easy to feel as though our value resides directly in that which is receiving the approval.

“You’re such a great singer!” … approval! I have value as a singer!

“You are such a kind, selfless person. You’re always willing to help!” … approval! I have value when I do things for people!!

“You, my dear, are stunningly beautiful!“ … approval! I have value because I’m pretty!

And on, and on. We receive signals to our brain—and then to our soul—that we have value because of the things that are receiving praise (and, approval) from the others around us—especially those that mean the most to us.

Now of course, words of praise are great! Do NOT hold them back! We are meant to lift each other up with our words:

Let everything you say be good and helpful, so that your words will be an encouragement to those who hear them. —Eph 4:29

Where we go wrong is often on the receiving end.

I don’t know if it’s because we are receiving the approval from the person, rather than God who has given us the gift/talent/ability… or whether perhaps it’s because we’re receiving the approval for something that is temporary, as opposed to eternal; it will fade. Whatever the reason, when we find our value in anything other than being a loved, wanted, adopted, redeemed, cherished Child of God—his “masterpiece“—then we will always be thirsty again.

Remember those words of Jesus?

Anyone who drinks this water will soon become thirsty again. But those who drink the water I give will never be thirsty again. It becomes a fresh, bubbling spring within them, giving them eternal life. —John 4:14

I just wonder if this need for approval (that is fed temporarily in many ways by other Image Bearers) is really just the evidence for our connection portal?

Remain in me, and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce fruit if it is severed from the vine, and you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me. Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing. —John 15:4-5

Perhaps the great influence “approval” has on all of us is a reminder to us that we need… him. “Apart from me you can do nothing.” Those are strong words. Nothing? Nothing. We will fight and claw and scrape for any scraps of approval we can get to feel “connected” to our source of life, but if we’re not connected to The source of Life…

Nothing.

And we end up fat, wasted, demoralized, broken, and all sorts of other kinds of hurt.

Because our Approval Meter is pointed in the wrong direction.

We are adopted children of the king (Ephesians 1, Galatians 4). We are made for greatness (Ephesians 2). He thinks we are worth dying for (Romans 5). Dying for.

Those are not just words. They are the approval we seek, crave, need… and already have.

Our value is set by the one who is above and before and over all things. If you believe that he exists, and that he rewards all those who sincerely seek him… do. And then bask in the never-ending flow of his “approval” as you remain connected to the vine, to him.

by Greg

The Way Things Are

When I think of the ugliness of the way most of us selfishly fight to get what is “ours”, often based on an unnecessary fear of rejection and/or insecurity… my heart is saddened almost to the point of despair.

Why, God? Is this the beautiful world you created?

Quickly my mind is ushered to the images of a young man choosing to bravely face his quite-likely death on the beaches of Normandy, or the story of Desmond Doss who stood firm in his beliefs, and personally saved dozens of fellow soldiers… without a weapon of any kind. Those stories and thankfully many more (including non-wartime stories) remind me that God did place beauty and strength and courage and honor within the human heart.

But so often we misplace it. We so often get trapped by trying to “get ours”.

Then I think of the hurt in the world that is not (directly) caused by the ugliness of man, of the flesh. I think of our friends whose daughter is daily faced with the very real threat of her own death… for over two years now. (And still no real end in sight.) I think of another friend who lost her dad far too soon, and of a precious little boy who only spent four very difficult months in his present-earth body, leaving behind a hole in his family that will never be replaced.

But again, I am quickly reminded that in those four months that little boy brightened the lives of so many dozens—even hundreds?—of people without speaking a word. And that even in the very midst of pain, joy can be found in little things. I’m even reminded of the incredible intricacy of design that keeps any of us living and doing mundane daily tasks at all (have you seen what happens in a cell??)

There does seem to be two sides to the story.

I think of the hopelessness of our battle with sin. But then I think of Jesus.

I think of our society’s continuing to push God away, deny him at every turn. Then I think of the many people who are living lives of Grace that draw people back to their true Father (not some dusty religious version of him).

I think of my own struggles (internal and external) and then I am reminded the Jesus is walking through them with me. I am not alone.

Though I won’t even pretend to understand it… there is some incredible beauty in the midst of the seemingly hopeless brokenness of our world. I really don’t get it. (Shaking my head ‘no’ even as I think and type these words.) But the Spirit is so quick to remind me any time I ask “Why?” … there’s no answer to my direct question; only a reminder that there are just as many evidences of good as there are of evil.

That doesn’t fix anything, but it does help me breathe.

Jesus, please fix my eyes and heart and mind on all that is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable…excellent and worthy of praise.

I think that’s just you, Jesus.

See: Philippians 4:8, Hebrews 12:2.

by Greg

[From The Archive] Distorted View of God?

Highlighting Articles from the GregsHead.net Archives!I re-discovered this post recently via a few related links from something else I had been writing. I really can’t recall how I got there, but as it might have done for you, the title grabbed my attention. I wondered, Now what was I thinking here…

Turns out it was one of my more favorite “recent” discoveries of a grander truth in Scripture than I had previously seen.

It’s easy to have a distorted view of God. It can come from listening to the perceptions others have of God, and incorporating them into our view of who he is. (Even if your source is the most learned and revered theologian or scholar.) It can come from our own guilt or shame, pushing us further from the God who loves us. It can come from simply not knowing him well enough, from a lack of knowledge, understanding.

Whatever way it comes, it hinders our relationship with our Father, and our living life to its full, which Jesus said is his desire for us.

Would love to hear your thoughts on this one. Respond however you’d like (Facebook Page, comment below, or comment on the original article) but please do let me know what you think—agree, or disagree.

Original Article: Distorted View of God

by Greg

Children Obey Your Parents

We had an interesting conversation with our teenager the other night.

Ian is thirteen. That means he’s officially a teenager. He’s been there—especially in his own mind—for quite a while now, even before the calendar said he was. That’s how he came into the world, actually. He’s usually ahead of the game.

And that’s his biggest problem. He’s pretty talented in a lot of ways, and he’s quite intelligent. That can very easily add up to a big trap. It can start to seem like you’ve got it all figured out.

I think at some point we all face that. And you might be saying, “Greg, of course he thinks he knows everything … he’s a teenager!” And, you are certainly right that what I’ve said so far could be said of most of us (maybe ALL of us?) in our teen years. It is the time when we are discovering ourselves. When we are invincible. When we are definitely smarter than our Mom & Dad.

But see, the thing is… this has been plaguing Ian since before he could speak.

There’s a war being waged in his spirit. I can’t know that, of course, or see it directly; but I see evidences of it. At once Ian is the most gentle, caring spirit, and also completely unbending and arrogant. He can be both.

From his earliest days, when we were training him the simple ‘yes’ and ‘no’ of what he could, and could not touch, where he could, and could not go, Ian has defied us. He has somehow had deep within his spirit a need for autonomy. More than a need, a conviction. He. Is. Right. It causes him such grief with his Mom, especially, but also with me. We’ve spent so many hours and hours talking about it, praying, learning from Jesus, and hopefully even showing by example.

But he persists in his right-ness.

The other night after a long day of head-butting with Mom, we had an emotional, confrontational “talk”. (It was mostly me doing the talking.) What came of that was a nugget of truth (at least, truth from Ian’s perspective) that helped me see the command from Scripture, “Children, obey/respect your parents…” slightly differently.

What I saw was that those words are not the end, but just the beginning.

God’s blessing comes after our will (as children) can quietly and trustingly submit to our parents. There are two things we learn from that. First, we are learning to submit ourselves to someone we trust whom we know loves us (like our heavenly Father), and second, we are learning the value of obeying Father, even when it doesn’t yet make sense to us—which we will have countless opportunities to practice through the rest of our adult lives.

Ian said, “So then I’m just supposed to lie?” He meant that he doesn’t agree with us, so, if he complies with a respectful-on-the-outside “Yes, Mom” and the subsequent carrying out of his orders, then that equals obeying? That is somehow a good thing?

In reply I said, “No, Ian. You are not supposed to lie. It’s not a lie. It’s a choice. You are saying, ‘God, even though I don’t agree… even though I think I’m right here… I’m going to trust you. I’m going to show my parents respect, and willingly do what they are saying is best, because I trust you, and your love for me.’ We hope that you can trust our love for you, too, and the wisdom we have gained by our quarter-century of additional experience. But the first choice you make, and the one that matters, is to choose to trust God.”

And I realized, that’s so true. I added, “Ian, I think the only thing God asks of you while you are a child, is to respect and obey your parents. As you get older, a LOT more will be expected of you, and you will be responsible for a lot more choices. But right now, it starts with this simple one. If you can choose to do that (respect your Mom and Dad, and do what they say, even when you think you know better) then you will start to see God’s blessing. When we trust him, he begins to unfold more truth in front of us. Not to mention, you’ll have peace—inner peace, peace with your Mom, with me, and your simple choice will begin to grow peace through our whole household.”

This is not “pick on Ian” time. Ian is (as I said earlier) incredibly talented in many things (sports, writing, reading, knowledge, understanding and caring about people, art, humor, and more). I love my son, Ian. He’s also—at times—incredibly hard to be around, because he does not see himself as an equal (or, in the case of his parents, a subordinate). His arrogance, unchecked, will eventually—once he is no longer under the protection of our supervision and guidance—be his ruin.

Pride, the worship of self, is the beast that is in all of us. Somehow, God put something in us that has a great desire to protect us, to defend us and all that represents us. It is the undoing of many. Perhaps it’s stronger in some than others (that’s what we seem to see in our firstborn son) but it is definitely something we all battle.

Ian and I had a subsequent discussion about heroes and villains. He’s writing a book with some seemingly ordinary folk who have super powers, who battle other seemingly ordinary folks who have super powers (or super technology). It’s a classic good versus evil, superhero story. He’s got some fun twists he’s working on, and he’s becoming a pretty good story teller, so it should be an entertaining read!

We thought about the one most common distinction between the “good guys” and the “bad guys” in any story, “super” or not. The answer was surprisingly consistent, and easy: bad guys are always in it for themselves, and good guys are always looking out for other people, even (especially) at their own peril. Those are heroes, the ones of us who sacrifice self for someone else, expecting nothing in return. (If reciprocity is expected, then the “selfless” act was really not selfless at all.)

Don’t be selfish; don’t try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves. Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too.

I’ve quoted those few sentences from Philippians 2 here before. A few times, I believe. Don’t forget the sentence that comes next (perhaps the more familiar words):

You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had.

There are so many commands in the Bible. Do this, don’t do this; go here, stay away from there; be this, don’t be this. It trips us up, big time. We get stuck on the “dos” and “don’ts”. The one thing that matters is to love God (and trust him) with all that you are, and equally important, love other people like you’ve been loved. There’s no “me” in that. The me is the “others” part for you. YOU are taken care of by me, and by everyone else who is “taking an interest in others, too”, and by our Father.

What more could you ask for?

So we’ll keep trying. We’ll keep loving. We’ll keep talking, praying, studying, and doing—leading by example. We’re going to fail. We do all the time. But hopefully part of our example is a humble acceptance of our own brokenness, our own quite obvious IMperfection.

Do what’s right… love mercy… walk humbly with [our] God.

And in the end? Well, we don’t get to know the end. We only get to live the now. We hope that as we do what God is asking us, that he’ll bless us by giving us the joy of seeing HIS Life lived brilliantly in and through our son (all our sons, and our daughters). They will each get to choose to trust him along the way. It might be “easier” for some of them than it seems to be for Ian in his short thirteen years so far. But I have a hunch that each of them will face their own obstacles, just as great, just as impassible …

But nothing is impassible with God. (Or, something like that.)

And it is HE whom we trust. From the very first, when we say, “Yes, Mom,” and “Yes, Dad”. And through the rest of life, with the first choice to trust—when much (or all?) seems to say otherwise—we take the first step and choose to trust him.

Then we begin to know the Life he has for us, the Life he is.

It all starts with a simple choice.

by Greg

First And Second Birthdays

Yesterday was my Mom’s birthday. January 26th is a circled day on the calendar that our family celebrates. Has been for as long as I have memories. All day long, we think of my Mom. We call, we video chat, we send cards… we celebrate the life she began on January 26th, 19xx. 🙂

(I don’t know that my Mom has any real problem with me sharing her age, but… just in case… since she reads this blog … Suffice it to say that this year her two-digit age ends with a zero! So in some ways it was an even more memorable/special year.)

I love my Mom and love celebrating her birthday! (Even if we’re not in the same location on the birthday day.)

At some point during that day I was reminded that the 26th of January is also the birth day of our good friend’s Mom. She, too was born on the twenty-sixth day of the first month of the year. If I recollect correctly, she was even born in the same state, not far from where my Mom was born. She too has children who love her, and many grandkids.

But she has another birthday.

A little over a decade ago, she was born into her eternal life. She is now with Jesus. So her birthday is celebrated at least a little differently than the way we celebrate January 26th here, where we can still show our love and see it received, and given back.

It’s better to be with the Lord. The Bible tells us so. But I’d imagine first birthdays are at least a little harder when the one birthed has had their second birthday already, and you’re left celebrating without them.

This week I’ve also been thinking of our friends who are coming up on the one-year anniversary of a second birthday. Tomorrow will be one year since our friends lost a Dad and a Husband and a Grandpa; and since we lost someone who was becoming a good friend.

Death leaves such an absence. It’s hard to celebrate the second birthdays. Again, it’s better to be with the Lord, but that truth seems distant when the life so suddenly changes, and the void is so clearly known and seen and felt.

I know it’s been rough again lately for our friend who lost her Dad. (And I know for many years our friend who lost her Mom has missed her so dearly on many occasions, more than just first and second birthdays.)

It definitely makes me value the days that I have now with my Mom, who’s still only had her first birthday.

The hope that we have runs deep. I know and trust that once we have both passed the threshold into our eternal life, I won’t have to live or think about living life without my Mom in my life. That is a great hope.

But I’ll say it again: for now, on at least some levels, I’m very glad my Mom is still only one.

I rejoice for the lives of the two parents I know, mentioned above, who are missed yesterday and tomorrow. They loved well and are still well loved. I am praying peace now for the kids who miss their beloved parents on their first and second birthdays respectively. But I already know they have hope. And in that I also rejoice.

This talk of “second birthdays” has a bit of a morbid undertone, but if you know our Jesus, it’s a wonderful thing when you turn two.

It’s just harder for all the one-year-olds who are still waiting for their own second birthday.

It will come. And then others will both mourn and rejoice on our two birthdays. And we will celebrate with all of the ones we loved who went before us.

What a birthday party that will be.

Note: This photo of my Mom is slightly dated, but it’s a good one, with several of our kids loving their Grammy. There are not many photos of my Mom in existence, and I’m nearly certain this is the only one published online! So, I might get in a tiny bit of trouble, but… I know she still loves me. Right, Mom? 🙂

by Greg

Some Things Never Change

Since the beginning of time, young kids have seen the colored tiles—whatever shape they might assume—as an endless playground for the imagination, and an exciting test of their balance and coordination skills.

And the Campbell children are certainly no different!

Walking the mall with any of our youngest kids is never really walking, it’s traversing. It’s an expedition. Through fiery lava, or dangerous waters infested with countless perils and vicious creatures!

The most recent expedition was with Emma, who was more of an athlete than an explorer. Her task at first was to maintain perfect balance across all the colored tiles, but that soon changed to being able to completely clear the four-square blocks, long-jump style! (Which she actually did quite well!)

I could not help but (vividly) recall my childhood, where I was doing the very same thing. And as I’ve said, I can’t think of any one of our children who have not. What is it about our youth that allows us the freedom—that nearly demands that we see life as play?

And better yet, where does that go?

About that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who is greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven?”

Jesus called a little child to him and put the child among them. Then he said, “I tell you the truth, unless you turn from your sins and become like little children, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven. So anyone who becomes as humble as this little child is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven.

Sometimes we read that and see the part about “turn[ing] from your sins” and that will “get us into” the Kingdom of Heaven. And thus, becoming like little children is perhaps being born again (spiritually), or even maybe being more trusting, having more faith.

But in the context, Jesus was asked who was the greatest, and his answer was someone who might seem like the “least”. What he chose to point out was the humility of a child—which, in contrast to the question raised, sharply reveals the pride of the questioner.

Without pride, we are free to play (no matter what anyone might think of us). Pride is, after all, just our self-given worth. It’s what we imagine ourselves to be, that we usually are not.

Humility, being the opposite—and the quality Jesus said we, like children, should aspire to possess—is not concerned with what others think of us. There is a nearly unshakeable freedom to fully enjoy life as it unfolds before you.

How many of us live like that? Maybe we should.

Maybe I will.

I did that night with Emma. We skipped through parking lots, jumped from tile to tile, and slowly enjoyed every moment as we made the trek through the adventure-land that was our local shopping mall. The joy was definitely in the unpretentious frivolity we were engaging in, but it was also in just being together. Taking interest in each other.

Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too.

If we’re not concerned with us, there’s a lot more room to enjoy the things and the people around us.

Emma sure was. And I bet your kids are pretty good at it, too. As, I’d guess, were you.

Some things never change. Kids will always see the colored tiles in malls as the next great adventure, even if they’ve conquered it before. And, the truth of God’s words, that life in his Kingdom is found when we are humble and unassuming, like little children.

I think it’s time for a stroll through the mall…

Scripture quotes from Matthew 18 and Philippians 2, both from the New Living Translation.

by Greg

Tradition, Tradition!

Traditional New Year's Day meal, pork, sauerkraut, mashed potatoes, corn bread

As far back as I can remember, my family has always celebrated New Year’s Day with a big meal featuring pork, sauerkraut, mashed potatoes, and corn bread. My dad enjoys throwing in some baked clams, but I’ve chosen to leave those out of our version of the family tradition… 🙂

This year was no different. Even though we’d been packing a bunch in between Christmas and Ian’s 13th birthday celebrations, and despite the fact that I had been feeling pretty sick the night before, I still managed to get the pork loin in the oven to slow roast overnight and we had a delicious meal for a late lunch the next day.

It’s said that having this meal on New Year’s Day leads to a prosperous year, but I’m really just glad for the fun of making it and the tastiness of eating it! Plus it’s a favorite of just about everyone in our family (and friends we’ve gotten to share the meal with, too!)

A slightly more odd tradition that we keep in the Campbell household is celebrating Three Kings Day, which we’ll be doing tomorrow morning! This is because of the few years of my childhood that were spent in Caracas, Venezuela. Three Kings Day is celebrated in many hispanic countries, including Venezuela! Our version may be a bit modified, but it suits us, and is mostly in the same spirit, I’d say.

Every January 5th, we leave our shoes out by the front door, ready to be filled by the three wise men. They leave us gifts, just like they did for Jesus. We can leave straw for their camels to eat, but usually don’t do that. 🙂 In the morning, we come down to find a small gift and usually some candy left in everyone’s shoes. Fun!

And, every once in a while, we’ll bake an oven-safe trinket into a cake and then whoever gets the piece of cake with that item in it gets to be KING for the day! We’ve modified this a bit, too, in that we know the King of kings, we try to be a king in the way he was: serving, not being served. (And yes, the kids still want to do it!)

Speaking of knowing the King of kings…

After reading many of her favorite mom/big-family blogs this Christmas season, Jen thought it might finally be the year to “do Christmas differently”. We’ve had a pretty typical Christmas tradition of lots of gifts, and the big family Christmas at Grandma & Grandpa’s, and so on. This year she thought we could focus more on the reason we’re celebrating: it’s Jesus’ birthday! (At least, the day that is celebrated.)

We’ve tossed some of these ideas around for the past several years, but we decided to really do it this year. First, we each drew a name of someone else in the family, and got just one meaningful gift for that person. (So, still gifts, but much less about gifts for us.) We spent as much or more money giving gifts to Jesus. How, you ask? Matthew 25 says, “Whatever you do for the least of these, you are doing for me” (my paraphrase), so we did that! We bought (via World Vision this time) 13 small farm animals for people who could use them for daily sustenance. It was really cool to see the kids excited to do it! And it was so nice to have the focus much less on the gifts (and the getting) and much more on Jesus, and the incredible Gift of his becoming a man that “…all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God.” (John 1:12)

We also made a birthday cake, of course, and had a great time celebrating Jesus’ birthday! (We’re pretty good at celebrating birthdays around here!) Hoping that this becomes our family tradition as the years go on. And I’m sure there will be some great modifications along the way.

Born 4 BC? 2015 in 2011!

Note: we based the “age” upon a birth year of 4 BC… thus the 2015. (Though, if you count the year 0, wouldn’t he be 2016?) 🙂

Do you have family traditions from your childhood that you have continued with your family? Any new ones you’ve begun with your own family? Comment below!

by Greg

What Matters Most: The Story of Jayden

Every day we have stuff to do. Things that are “on our plate”. At the time, they weigh on us, at the end of the day (or during the day) exhaust our energy, and they may or may not also leave us feeling fulfilled.

You know what I’m talking about. It’s work, it’s the kids, it’s bills, it’s errands, it’s house cleaning, home repair, auto repair, insurance squabbles, kids’ daily and weekly activities, your family’s social calendar, community and neighborhood events and/or responsibilities. Then there are all your relationships: family, close friends, neighbors, friends who need support, good friends who are far away, and so on. And don’t forget all the books you want to read, the shows you like to watch, the hobbies you don’t have time for, and plans for the next holiday’s activities and gatherings.

These things fill our days, and our weeks, and our years. And mostly they are good. They are the stuff of life.

But for the most part, they all completely fall away when death or serious illness makes its macabre appearance.

Last year seemed to be full of serious illness and death all around us. (And you can throw in divorce and other of life’s hardships, if you’d like.) And somehow, when the reality of the most certain thing in life came front and center, the rest seemed so silly. So trivial. So superfluous.

What did it matter if I was having trouble getting a certain plugin to work with a complex shopping cart installation? So what if I can’t really figure out how to get our family out of this current financial pinch? Who cares if the van has fourteen different things wrong with it at once? Why does my kids’ incessant refusal to keep their living space neat and tidy bother me so much?

None of it matters when someone we know and love is either already gone, or soon will be.

We have some friends who just recently lost their four-month-old baby boy. I wish I could tell you the full story here, but not only would it be long enough to fill a week’s worth of posts, I’m not sure I could do it justice. I do hope that someday they will be able to write it out for more people to hear and see God’s every great gift to them.

The video above is their story. Hopefully you already watched it. If not, please do. What was most inspiring and encouraging to me is that through a difficult pregnancy where they were told early on that their baby would probably have some severe problems when—if—he was born, they trusted God, and asked him for a healing miracle… and they watched him DO it! Baby Jayden was born perfectly healthy, with no sign of the expected difficulties. (And, they even got to watch them be removed through the long months of the pregnancy.)

But then, things again took a turn for the worse.

Instead of being angry with God, though, who had given them hope and then (it would seem) had taken it away again, they loved their little boy (their gift from God) and they moved forward completely trusting Father to take care of him and them, however that turned out.

Their complete trust in God’s goodness through all of the physically and emotionally tiring, exhausting, draining experiences of Jayden’s four months was what gave them a deep peace that was palpable when you were with them, and it has buoyed them still, in the few weeks after his absence from their family.

And during the time he was sick—gravely sick—other things faded away. Family became important, work less important. Daily “things” were pushed to the background, and life and relationships took their place. I know because I saw it, watched it, and I have lived it.

We have experienced loss, too. Far too many times, actually. We did not get to experience both the joy of knowing our babies for four short months, nor the pain of losing someone we knew outside the womb. But we’ve also known loss.

And every time, what the reality of that brings to the front is that nothing matters more than how you love, and being/living loved. Knowing that your Father loves you, adores you. And then loving other people because you know he adores them, too. Cherishing the other Image-Bearers that he has put in your life, and you in theirs.

That’s really it.

Really.

Thank you, Jayden, for the reminder. Thank you Jesus for giving us some time to be around him, to know him, and to be reminded of what you really made us for. What really matters.

by Greg

Will You Let Me Love You?

Sometimes babies do dumb things. OK, a lot of the time. But usually (really almost always) they are really cute doing them, so, you tend to pretty easily forgive. (That and, they’re all fairly new on the job, so, you cut them some slack.)

Well, today, Emma (who is 2, almost 3) decided she would live up to that.

After her baby brother’s nap (he is 1), she joined him in his crib for a little bouncy fun. Well, the bouncing turned stale I guess, and she thought it would be fun to involve the curtains in the play. It might have been fun at first, but then she jumped a little too high, and pulled a little too hard… and…

The curtain rod is no more.

I came down from my office to get them and noticed that the window did not look right. A quick glance downward revealed the nature of the change in appearance, and I just shook my head in frustration. I surveyed their faces and surmised that Emma was the culprit. (She admitted as much within a few seconds of my assessment.) I scolded her, and removed them from the crib and examined the damage to see if it was reparable. It was not.

So I left the room frustrated and, was also frustrated with Jen that they had somehow escaped her custody. I was just frustrated.

Skip ahead through dinner (steaks!), and bath (fun!), to Emma’s bedtime. She is once again in her brother’s crib (how else can you say good night to him??) and that brings back to her mind the events of the early evening.

“The curtain is broken,” says a sad-voiced Emma.

“Yeah, it is,” says Dad, matching her tone. “But it’s OK, I can fix it.” I even began sort of propping it up to hopefully block some of the morning sunlight.

“Will you let me love you, Dad?” came the sheepish, sullen request.

It took a few seconds to register. I am not sure I’ve ever heard those words strung together, or spoken like that. In our family, we learned that when we wrong each other, rather than saying, “I’m sorry,” which is nice, but leaves the offender still very much “in control”, we feel it’s more appropriate and meaningful to approach the offended, and humbly ask their forgiveness: “Will you please forgive me (for [insert offense here])?”

That is what Emma was asking. She may have been mimicking the tone and phrasing (her own interpretation) of what she’s seen, but I think it was also coming from her heart. And her two-year-old brain actually revealed something amazing to me.

“Will you let me love you” is, in effect, what we’re asking when we ask for forgiveness. Yes, that we’d be forgiven, and receive love from the offended, but also that we’d be allowed to freely give love, too! How could Emma know that? But that’s the great thing! She does!. Jesus said we should be like little children… and that is why. To Emma, life is very simple. Very relational.

(It’s also about candy. And rubber chickens. And frequent screaming. But that’s for another blog post…)

Tonight, Emma got it right. And she got a great big hug and kiss.

And I definitely let her love me. 🙂

by Greg

Live. Now.

More sad news has come this week. Last week we learned of the very sudden, unexpected death of a friend of ours, and have spent the week since praying for and grieving with his family. Today we will join his family as they bury him. Then this week we got a similar call from our very good friends who learned that their cousin had some extremely serious complications during child birth and was in really bad shape. In fact, they were already declaring her “brain dead” and didn’t seem to have much hope to ever revive her.

The next night, we learned that she had in fact passed away.

This was a mom in her early thirties, with a 6-year-old girl, and a newborn baby girl. That’s not supposed to happen. We live in America. We live in the 21st century. We can handle things like a c-section birth, right?

Sadly, we are too often reminded that we are not in control of life.

So today her family is grieving. Her boyfriend, the father of the newborn, is torn apart inside, I’m sure. The joy of your first child is unbelievable, but to lose the woman you love (I am told they had plans to be married after the baby was born) at the same time… excruciating. And her parents. They are now mourning the loss of their daughter, instead of enjoying holding a new granddaughter. (I just can’t imagine…) And there are siblings, cousins (our friends), aunts, uncles, grandparents … all feeling the deep, sudden, tragic sting of this loss.

Later this week I spoke with a friend who traveled half-way around the world to be with her sister who is about to lose her boyfriend to a disease they just discovered he had, and her sister and their infant son are also facing potentially serious health issues. The same day I spoke with some friend who have been dealing with very difficult issues surrounding two teenage boys they brought into their family about four years ago. They’ve been their mom and dad for those years now, giving them a home, a place to be loved… but there’s a lot of rebellion in the boys’ hearts. The oldest of the two has left to be on his own, and the youngest is dealing with some pretty serious issues in life … our friends are tired and weary.

And I feel it all. I feel for all of these friends, some of whom are really more like family, who are dealing directly with hurt or closely surrounded by it. A few thoughts come to mind:

Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted. – Matt 5:4 (NIV)

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds – James 1:2

I’ve had enough thoughts on both of these short verses lately to fill many pages of writing. In fact, I don’t think I’ll deal with the line from James much right now, other than to say I’ve wondered if James was including sadness and/or loss as a “trial”? I’ve always thought so, but these last two weeks I’ve wondered if he didn’t mean to imply that kind of “trial”…

But mourning. There’s plenty of that going on. And any who’ve read that verse (and the surrounding ones) have wondered at the backward picture that Jesus paints of the way God sees life. We’re blessed if we mourn? If we’re meek? If we’re poor in spirit? If we’re persecuted?? Those don’t fit our definition of “blessed”, do they?

Jen told me that she had been thinking about those words, too, and had seen one way it was a blessing. In the midst of grieving and mourning, all of the unimportant is instantly gone, and the only thing that matters is the real. The true things of life. Generally, that’s only our relationships with those who are close to us, and being with them. Our memories of the one we’ve lost. It’s not (usually) any of the things that just recently before had dominated our daily and weekly schedules. Somehow events which cause us to mourn bring us closer to real life than we usually let ourselves be.

That is not to say that hurt or loss are in themselves good. They are not. (At least in my estimation.) But they are part of real life, much more so (usually) than many of our daily activities.

It’s hard to remain there—and no one would want to remain there, in such a painful place—but somehow I think we can. Time heals the wounds we have, even if there are deep scars remaining. Somehow if we could only capture the connection we have with what is important in these moments, perhaps we could really live.

That’s all I’ve been thinking. I mean, I’ve been thinking of many things, but they all seem to have a central theme. That is to live. And to live now. Be where you are. Remember to enjoy the important things and put off the distractions. Now, we all have things we have to do, but I’d say those should frequently be reevaluated, and measured by what we know in these times to have real value. Not that there can’t be “diversions” at times, but even the word itself implies what they are: diversions from reality.

After all of this sadness—perhaps more descriptively, on top of all this sadness—I am feeling very weary. I’ve heard that in my friends tones as well. (If not specifically in their words.) Yesterday I was really feeling it, and in a moment of clarity I was reminded of the oft-quoted words of Jesus:

“Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” – Matt. 11:28 (NIV)

The really cool part was that it seemed like Jesus himself was saying it to me. So I just took a moment to breathe, and remember that even in all of my caring for my friends I can’t do anything about it really … only he can. So I brought the heaviness to him, and asked him for rest. And then I asked the same for all whom I have been lifting up to him these past couple weeks.

He is life. He said so—”I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life“. Not his teachings or someone else’s interpretations of him. Not anything else. Jesus. He is the life. (John 17:3 says, “And this is eternal life: To know the one true God, and Jesus Christ whom he sent.”) It’s so simple, but so often missed or forgotten. He is our life source. When we are connected to him (John 15), we can know and live real life.

“I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” – John 10:10

The reminder at these times is to know what matters and find life in that. Jesus made all that is, and all was made for him (Colossians 1) … he is life. Then God made us in his image. There’s nothing more important than the people God has put into your life, and whose lives you’ve been put into. Don’t wait for the moment when they are gone (or you are gone) to live life to its full with them. We have been reminded all too clearly that we really have no guarantee of our next moment.

But we do have now. So please, live. Now.