Sara and I are making a big turn up the east coast this week and begin our journey westward on Monday, with stops in Lexington and Louisville this weekend. From there, it looks like we’re going to go through St. Louis and Kansas City to visit our son in Denver. If you’re along that way and want to connect with us, please get in touch.
For those concerned about our dog Zoey, she had her four-week, post surgery check-up for her ACL, and it is healing well. We still have not gotten biopsy results back. Crazy!
Here are two videos you might enjoy:
Here are some thoughts from a conversation last night, many of you might find helpful:
“Lose track of his love and you’ll get lost in the darkness; hold on to his love and he will light you a path through it. ”
And, water returns to the tribes in North Pokot:
Thanks to all who have helped us with the need in Kenya. We’re getting close to the total that will help meet their needs for water and relief in this time of crisis. You can read my blog about the current need.
And it is not too late if you still want to help us. We still need about $10,000, if you have some extra. Again, every dime you give goes straight to Kenya; we take nothing out for administrative or financial fees.
God has been so good to us on this journey, with so many conversations and journeys to share, whether it’s people coming to a meeting or a chance encounter getting a haircut, we’re having a lot of fun coming alongside others and helping them see how Jesus might be leading them, What a delight to wander across the U.S. and see what doors Father opens, and what cinnamon rolls we can find!
From the day we brought Mandy, a six-week-old golden retriever puppy, into our home, she has been enthralled with our seven-year-old lab/retriever mix named Zoey. First, Mandy overwhelmed Zoey, trying to relate to her as she had with her mom and the litter of puppies in her previous home. She had no idea how to relate to Zoey, and to be honest, Zoey wasn’t very enthusiastic about this new intruder in our home.
But in four weeks, all that has changed. They are becoming best friends, learning to play, and giving each other the space that will allow this relationship to work. It has been so much fun to watch it happen and so fulfilling to watch them engage each other now and for Zoey to let her sleep in her paws.
I know they are just two dogs, but there is a process for us as well, as we learn to live inside God’s love, especially if your previous home was based on religious performance.
I say it often: learning to live loved is not a matter of human achievement; it is the reality we relax into. That’s what Mandy is learning with Zoey.
And, yes, I understand this is far easier said than done. This is the great transition—from religious performance that seeks God’s blessing to a relational connection where we experience his love and guidance through all life throws at us.
The transition can be brutal. The arc of Scripture contains that exact transition from obeying the law to resting in the Father’s love. It took thousands of years for God to put that into words we’d understand and put in place the mechanism that would allow it to happen. Even then, the early Christians struggled to stay in God’s love as they kept sliding back into the old ways by observing laws and rituals that were never meant to lead them to life.
So, when your performance-based Scripture reading leaves you empty, when your prayers seem futile, when you can’t seem to sense his love, no matter how hard you try, don’t redouble your efforts. This process will take you to the end of yourself, which is what it intends to do. At times, you’ll feel alone, as if you’re missing something everyone else gets. But it isn’t so. Don’t give into the despair that will try to tell you God is not really there, or if he is, you’re not good enough to merit his attention.
He has always had his eye on you. The hunger you feel to know him is the hunger he has inspired in you. Don’t give up; just keep marinating in your heart’s hunger, losing the expectations of what you think God’s work will look like and wait until his nudges and fingerprints begin to come into focus.
I wish I could save you from this process, but I can’t. If your faith and prayer life have been built on doctrines and ideas, switching to a more relational engagement is never easy. To find a new way into his love, the old ways have to die. This is the hard part, watching them die and resisting the urge to save yourself by rushing back into those comforting, though lifeless forms. They will disappoint you yet again and you’ll find yourself still at this point where your religious ambitions and expectations need to surrender to the God who is so much bigger than any of us can conceive.
As those things die, Jesus will show you a different way he is relating to you. This is the most frustrating time in that process, seeing through the old, but not quite grasping the new. It’s like a computer program you’ve always used, and suddenly rebuilt it and changed everything. None of the old ways work; you must learn what will work now. Learning to live a life of love is entirely different than the games of religious performance.
What I hope you don’t do is give up the hunger to know him. Give up the past process—yes! Give up the expectations you have of how God might make himself known—yes again! But don’t give up on him. He has this for you. It’s why it hurts so badly—because he has created in you a heart that will be satisfied with nothing less than him. You’ve asked for that. He’s all on the way to fulfilling that desire.
In reading Romans recently, I took note of these two passages. One about why Israel missed the revelation of God, and one that lets us know why a small minority find it:
And Israel, who seemed so interested in reading and talking about what God was doing, missed it. How could they miss it? Because instead of trusting God, they took over. They were absorbed in what they themselves were doing. They were so absorbed in their “God projects” that they didn’t notice God right in front of them. —Romans 8:31-32 (MSG)
I have been there. So enmeshed in my “God projects” that I walked right by his nudges and invitations. Yes, it was at the end of myself, frustrated by the fact that my religious journey to that point had only allowed me glimpses of goodness but not the relationship my heart desired. How do we find that. Here’s what Paul goes on to say about those who find their way into his goodness:
They’re holding on, not because of what they think they’re going to get out of it, but because they’re convinced of God’s grace and purpose in choosing them. —Romans 11:6 (MSG)
Even our relationship with him cannot be found seeing our own fulfillment, though it will fulfill us in ways we never dreamed. This journey is about finding your way into the reality of who God is and how he wants to make himself known to you. Remember, God’s love is a reality we relax into. Expectations, frustrations, and demands will only make it more difficult for us. God loves you, knows where you are, and is building that connection with you, especially in those frustrating moments when you feel abandoned and alone.
The only way you can miss it is to give up or try to force your way in. Hang in there. As the old dies, you’ll find that path that will lead you into the relationship you desire. And you will find yourself at rest in the Father’s arms, just like Mandy is in Zoey’s.
I love the way Father weaves himself into the fabric of our day. I hadn’t seen the notes pictured above for decades. I forgot I even had them until I picked up a tablet off my desk, and there they were sitting beneath. Look at the date: “2/12/75.”
How they got there, I have no idea. Between moving into storage from our old home and then into this one, I suspected they fell out of something, and I laid the tablet on them without knowing they were there. When I picked it up a few days ago, I was undone for quite a while.
Dr. Clyde Kilby
These are not just any set of notes. They are scribblings from lectures given by Dr. Clyde Kilby, a professor of English at Wheaton College and the founder of The Marion E. Wade Center, which is a library to study the writings of the Inklings, including C.S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien, two of my favorite authors. They opened my heart to the wonder of God’s mystery and the adventure of following him. He wrote and taught extensively on the influence of these men and was one of the leading authorities on their material.
As part of my work for the Chaplain’s Office during my senior year, I was assigned to escort Dr. Kilby to his lectures and take him for meals when he visited Oral Roberts University. We often ate with others, but the last night we dined alone at the Steak and Ale Restaurant beside a log fire in a stone fireplace. The Old English ambiance and the fact that Dr. Kilby resembled in so many ways the wise, gentle, witty man I thought C. S. Lewis must have been, it was like dining with the great thinker himself.
Then, to my horror, he pulled out a manuscript I had written as part of my senior project. The Chaplain had given him a few chapters, and he pulled them out to discuss them with me. For the next few moments, he told me how impressed he was with my writing for a young man and encouraged me to pursue my craft. “You have the gift of writing. Don’t ever forget that, no matter how difficult it might be to find your way into print. The world needs your words. Pursue it no matter what.”
I was blown away then, and still am, by the encouragement God gave me that night through this dear man. Our friendship grew from there through letters, and twice when I was in the Chicago area, I got to sit in his garden with him and his wife after their retirement. My interactions with him are some of the clearest and most treasured memories of my journey.
My eyes moistened, thumbing through those old notes as they rekindled the memories of my relationship with Dr. Kilby and his encouragement for me to write. I have no doubt it was providential that they ended up on my desk at this moment. Something had been stirring in my heart, and not only finding these notes but also the content of the first lecture seems to confirm a growing direction in my heart.
It has been nearly sixteen months since I returned home from my last trip to discover that, to my complete shock, Sara had left me and planned to file for divorce. A few days into that stretch of the journey, and before I had any conversation with Sara, God seemed to be letting me know that this was not what it appeared to be and that he would be bringing her back. As I prayed one day, I saw in my mind a spaceship approaching a giant planet. Its trajectory bent about sixty degrees as it passed, and soon it was off in a different direction. God seemed to speak to my heart, “This is going to change the trajectory of your life.” And has it ever!
Early on, everything stopped—podcasts, blogs, writing, and travel. Sara was first; find out what happened to her and see if I could reconnect. When we discovered that Sara was drowning in trauma from her childhood, about which she had complete amnesia. At that point, I dedicated the rest of my life to being part of Sara’s healing and Sara’s joy. Over the last year, we sold our home, wandered around together in an RV to Virginia and back, and now have purchased a forty-year-old home and are remodeling it as a place for us. I’ve held that lady through the most painful revelations, helped her set a course for freedom, and now we are finding a way to live together that will honor her trauma and the work Father is doing in it.
It has all been a joy to live in this space with her and to let go of everything else. It has not only changed the trajectory of my life; it has also transformed me in ways I never saw coming. I see many things differently today than I did sixteen months ago. God has been expanding my heart to see that the way I’ve loved Sara through this is how God loves his people who are lost in the world’s darkness and tormented by sin. We are exploring some of that now on The God Journey podcast.
Over the past year, I’ve wondered if I’d write again or travel. Walking with Sara through this has taken most of my time and emotional energy. I managed to keep podcasting with Kyle when we understood what was happening with Sara and knew she wanted to tell her story there. I have also continued to walk with people through tragedies and discoveries that are rocking their world and continue with a small group of others to gaze with God in prayer at the brokenness of the world and his redemption in the midst of it.
Now that we are approaching the end of our remodeling projects, the desire to write again has been steadily growing. Honestly, I wasn’t sure that I’d ever write another book. My best book is already in the world, He Loves Me, and its companion devotional, Live Loved Free Full, are encouraging many people to live in Father’s love each day. So You Don’t Want to Go to Church Anymore, and Finding Church are still the best things I have to say about being part of the church Jesus is building and not being disillusioned by humanity’s attempts to fabricate its own version.
“Will you speak for me again?” The words ran through my mind a couple of months ago. I’ve resisted giving in to them because Sara and I are intentionally avoiding old patterns to embrace new ones. She has been wonderfully encouraging, however, about me writing again. I’m sure she’ll want me distracted when she has time to play in the garden. So, I’ve been toying with two possible books that keep rising in my heart.
That’s why finding these notes one morning undid me a bit. As soon as I saw Dr. Kilby’s name on it, it was as if all the encouragement God gave me through him almost fifty years ago came flooding back as if it were yesterday. And the first few pages of those notes strike the heart of the Father’s passion growing in my soul. Here are a couple of quotes that feed Father’s adventure in all of us and that exploring specifics is the gift of God, not codifying God’s life into systems or workbooks:
The best evidence of man’s fall is that every experience that overwhelms us with beauty becomes after a bit of time mere commonplace. It is one of the saddest things. Heaven will not have that quality. God can enjoy every sunrise as if it is his first.
The greatest sin you can commit is to think that today is just like yesterday and that tomorrow will be just like today.
Reality is never found in organization and analysis. The more you abstract or define, the further away the thing itself gets from you. Systematic theology is God on the dissecting table. Anything worth talking about is greater than the sum of its parts.
Snowflakes are intimately beautiful and intimately individual. Each one is unique. The world is not a generalized world. No two apples are alike. If I call them “apples”, I have abstracted them and taken away a bit of each of them to find the lowest common denominator.
Everywhere I go, I look around to feel something. I thank the Lord for the freshness of life. All things are full of beauty. God made butterflies. They have a reality of beauty, as does everyone you meet.
I love how God makes himself known. That he would bring these notes and memories to me now means more than I can say. I have no idea what the future holds from here; Sara and I are still living each day in the beauty and adventure of what doors God might open on any day.
These notes remain on my desk today as a treasured reminder of his gift to me fifty years ago and perhaps a glimpse into what will yet be.
