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I snuck out to see the worst movie ever…
Remember back in high school / secondary school when you were convinced you had been gifted with flawless, untouchable intellect, and your parents were simply there to cheer you on in all your successful endeavors?
Disaster.
So, I had planned with some friends to sneak out and go see a new movie we’d been waiting to see for months. Opening night arrived, and we pulled it off. So much anticipation, we just knew it was going to be the greatest movie of all time.
It was terrible.
We’d made so many coordinated, late-night phone calls in the corner of the back yard (or as far as the cordless phone could reach) to scheme about how we’d pull of our movie adventure. Suddenly it all seemed so stupid.
What was the movie, you ask?
City of Angels…starring…wait for it…Nicholas Cage.
Seriously? Who the heck sneaks out to see a NICHOLAS CAGE flick? Worst. Idea.Ever. (My apologies if you absolutely adore Nick Cage…but if you do, PLEASE help me understand why.)
The most awkward part was, all my friends loved the movie, and my flawless 17-year intellect (i.e., peer pressure) told me I should pretend I loved it too. No sense in making the tribe angry. When I arrived home later that night, I climbed in my bed of shame and fell asleep. What’s worse is, that wasn’t the last time I invested lots of time and energy to do something that in the end wasn’t worth it.
In fact, to this day, from time to time I’ll still make stupid decisions, or invest time in activities that are pretty much a waste. And now, my kids are beginning to discover that they’ve been born with a magically perfect mind as well. It’s the circle of life.
I equate it to that moment at Chuck E. Cheese when you’ve spent hours playing ski ball, collected dozens of tickets (I was never very good at ski ball), and then realize all the prizes in the glass case you worked so hard to earn…are stupid and cheap.
But, all these moments I are stories that now begin, “Hey, remember that time when…”
Of course you’d never do that same thing again, but the failure didn’t destroy you. At least not forever.
These events texturize our lives and remind us that it’s ok to risk the the possibility of failure. Because even in failure we learn who to trust, and how to do things differently next time.
Frederick Buechner says, “Life is grace. Sleep is forgiveness. The night absolves. Darkness wipes the slate clean, not spotless to be sure, but clean enough for another day’s chalking.”
Not everything we chalk on the board of our lives will end up being a brilliant equation, but that’s why we can erase it and try again. In the background you might still see some of the old idea peeking through, but over top you have the opportunity to write a new one.
Some failures take longer to erase, and might even be painful to repair…but stick it out. Don’t quit. Don’t be so busy envying the joyful moments of others that you miss out on your own.
Revisit your failure every once in a while and see what you can learn. It might just change everything.
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“But [God] said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” // 2 Corinthians 12.9-10
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How do you deal with failure?
Do you even give yourself a chance to fail?
“You dumped your clothes out AGAIN?!”
So, our two year old twins have teamed up for quite a rambuctious new feat: waiting until we think they’re fast asleep in their room at night…and then throwing every article of clothing they own onto the floor.
They might look cute, cuddly, and innocent…but they’re not. Little schemers.
We’re in the process of developing a remedy to the situation (probably with an extra sensitive security system or a night guard), but for now, until we find something that prevents this bedtime devastation, I’ve developed what’s become to me an endearing moment of fatherhood.
Each night before I go to bed, I’ll walk through the house checking the doors, turning out lights, starting the dishwasher, and saying a prayer over each of our children.
When I quietly open the door to the twins’ room, what waits to greet me is always a total mess…and there they are, in the middle of the mess, asleep; exhausted from their escapades in the dark. One by one I gently pull them out of the mess and place them into their own beds where they stay peacefully at rest until morning.
I’m pretty sure they have no idea how they fall asleep in the middle of their mess and night, and wake up in their beds in the morning, but it doesn’t really matter. I’m their daddy, and I know my kids won’t get the rest they need by trying to sleep in the middle of their mess.
So I rescue them.
Just like my Father God has rescued me time and time again.
When I’ve finally exhausted myself in my own mess, he reaches in and pulls me out.
When I stumble under the weight of the life-burdens of my own making, he invites me into his rest.
He restores my soul.
Some days I’m an expert at ignoring just how many messes I’m wallowing at one time. I don’t even notice when I start to drown. But my Father does. Because that’s what Fathers do. While us children think we’re playing a silly game, we don’t understand what we do. When we finally come to our senses, he’s there with open arms to exchange our shame with grace…guilt with forgiveness…despair with hope…brokenness with repair…
I don’t know what kind of mess is next for you…maybe you’re in the middle of one now…
Whatever the case, remember, God the Father is love and redemption.
He’ll run emergency mess rescue missions on your behalf as long as you live.
If you need to grieve, do so. If you need to go a few rounds with your doubt, do so.
He’s patient. He never leaves.
The messes we create will never throw him off.
You may never remember the moment he pulled you from the middle of your mess and placed you safely back into your bed, but that’s ok…just rest.
One day my 2-year-olds will make bigger messes, but we’ll address that when the time is right.
For now, I’m grateful for a Heavenly Father who will never run away from mine.
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The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.” // Lamentations 3.22-24
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“Life is grace. Sleep is forgiveness. The night absolves. Darkness wipes the slate clean, not spotless to be sure, but clean enough for another day’s chalking.” // Frederick Buechner
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I pray this was encouraging to you today. If you know someone walking through a messy time of life, please pass this along.
Not all who wander are lost…but…
About sixteen years ago I pretty much gave up on church.
Because I was a preacher’s kid, and it would have caused an international incident, I couldn’t stop attending…but I gave up.
Why?
Well, I was fifteen at that point, had been going to church functions since I was in amniotic fluid, and somewhere around the age of eleven I started realizing that a lot of the Christians around me were…well…jerks.
I would read about Jesus, and how he treated people, then I’d look at Christians, and the two just didn’t match up.
Sometimes we’d go by the church to surprise my dad in the middle of a work day, and there’d be someone in his office yelling at him for changing the carpet, or not using the choir robes.
We would receive threatening anonymous letters at our house…certain church members would interrupt the service to call meetings.
They wanted to edit sermon content.
They hated the music.
They controlled the finances.
They cursed.
They slandered.
They schemed.
The humiliated…just like Jesus would have done…right?
But, there was one event that still sits in the front of my mind that gives me much pause to this day. At one point, my father decided to use a smaller lectern to preach from instead of the large, ornate, traditional pulpit. Of course, the backlash from a select few was outrageously harsh.
Finally, in one uproarious meeting, the statement was made that when my father had removed the larger pulpit, he had also removed God from our church.
It took me a long time to be able to look past the theological idiocy of that statement to what the person was really saying.
A few years ago, I got to meet one of my heroes, Frederick Buechner, who was in town for a series of lectures at a local college. During a Q and A session, someone asked Rev. Buechner where he attended church. I’m sure his answer wasn’t quite what anyone was expecting:
“I don’t always attend church, actually. Because not every church is alive with the Spirit of God. I only attend where and when I know the Spirit is.”
That certainly was not what people were hoping to hear, but it was the truth.
In Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, Gandalf writes a letter to the hobbits. Included in the letter is a poem that cryptically refers to the return of Aragon, the King. That portion of literature may not be all that well-known, but there’s a line from the poem I hear and read frequently:
Not all who wander are lost.
Indeed.
But I would add this…Not all who wander are lost…but all who wander are searching.
When the judgement was given that God left our church along with the pulpit, I knew I was finished there, and I began to wander.
I never gave up on Jesus Christ, but for years I washed my hands of the church. Because, I told myself, if to follow Jesus means I end up looking like those people, I don’t want any part of it.
To be quite honest, I’m still not convinced I’ll ever stop wandering; searching.
At least I hope not anyway.
A Bible passage that comes up when I have this kind of conversation is a line from the letter to the Hebrews, 10.25, that says we must, “Not forsake the assembling of ourselves together…”
And I agree, but I also don’t think we as followers of Jesus should gather simply to gather. The Hebrews passage also talks about doing things by a “living way”…encouraging each other to “love and good works”…our assembly must be a living assembly.
Church isn’t a weird, secret club, it’s a feast and there’s room for everyone at the table. (And I do mean EVERYONE.)
Either what we believe is alive or it’s not. Flash, hype, and clever manufacturing can’t make a dead thing alive. Only the Spirit of Christ can do that.
Growing up, as questions about faith, life, doubts, and fears took center stage, the people around me were so busy arguing about whether drums in church were satanic, I never got a chance to ask.
In 2004, I was ordained as a Christian minister. I can “marry and bury” as they say.
But I still wander.
I still search.
I believe Jesus is alive, and a faith marked by Him will also be alive.
I believe grace changes everything.
I believe doubts are a part of our journey.
I believe church should be a safe place, not a place where we pass out masks as people walk through the door.
I believe wandering must be a part of following Jesus, because the more we wander, the more we meet people to invite to the feast.
17 books I think you should read…
Here is a list (with links) of 17 books that have impacted me spiritually, philosophically theologically, or personally, and I think everyone should read them at some point.
Why 17? Just because. These aren’t listed in any particular order…
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Have you read any of these? What did you think?
What books have really impacted you in your journey?
