Thanksgiving Eve Plans

It’s Thanksgiving Week!

Please let us know if you are planning to come celebrate Thanksgiving Eve with us this Wednesday at 6:00.

We are hoping to receive promises to bring:

Vegetables (mixed? Corn?) for 20

Stuffing (for 25)

Mashed Potatoes (for 20)

Salad (for 40)

Pie (looking for three pies)

Gravy

We have had around 70 Thanks Eaters in the past… 

Hope to give Thanks with you this Wednesday!

(Please call  or text Tom at 316 613 1327 OR answer this email with your numbers and to sign up to bring something… the ‘sign ups’ are on a first come first serve basis.)

Annoucements and Events

A Bunch of Announcements

First… Thanksgiving Eve Celebration

Wednesday, 22 November

Come celebrate in a thanksgivingy sort of way!

We will eat together, pray together, sing together, and urge an attitude of gratitude.

We plan to meet at Jubilee and begin the eating-fest at 6:00 pm.

A sign up sheet is being constructed to divide the labor among our many hands.  Let me know if you plan to come, but haven’t signed up.

ESPECIALLY we hope to see folk who don’t regularly worship with us!

Come be Grateful!

--- --- --- ----- ---

This week’s Jubi-stuff

Wednesday        8 November         6:00 Jubiwednesday… food, fellowship, and some study.

Friday                    10 November    5:30 Dinner and Eric Mataxis

Sunday                 12 November    10:00 Prayer Meeting

                                                       11:00 Worship (Psalm 8)

Further On:

22 November Thanksgiving Eve Dinner

6 December CHRISTMAS CAROLLING

24 December Christmas Eve Service (6:00 pm)

Mask Day

Hallowe’en is a time of masks and costumes.  I always liked dressing up as the kind of person I most wanted to be.  (Pirate, Super Hero, Strong and Powerful.)

But the mask didn’t change who I was.  One year I wore what I thought was the best costume ever.  I dressed as a teenaged punk.  And went to visit my grandpa, hoping to scare him a little.  When he came to the door, he just smiled and said, “hello Tommy.”

My costume didn’t fool him for a moment.

We, as Christians sometimes try to wear masks and costumes, too.

-          “good” people

-          people who have overcome sin

-          people who know what we are talking about

-          people that God is lucky to have on His team.

Bit masks don’t really fool anyone… least of all the One we are most trying to fool… God Himself.  He knows us.  And even better... He loves us.

Friends

I thought I lost a friend last week.

A baseball player that I coached many years ago contacted me.  He told me how important I had been in his life, and how fondly he remembered me.

Our electronic conversation went on for three days, each day filled with warm fuzzies and happy memories.  Each conversation seemed more intimate and open.

And then he asked me for money.

When I asked for more information about his particular need, he grew offended and broke off contact.  I think he even cancelled his facebook account.

And here is what I realized.

He had contacted me not to be a friend.  But because he wanted and needed something.

And that is not friendship or love.

I hope he finds his money.  I actually hope he responds again to my emails.

But I was reminded that love doesn’t ask, “What have you done for me lately?”  It asks, “What can I do for you?”  Love doesn’t expect anything.  Love yearns to fill others’ expectations.  Love doesn’t have a motive.  Love desires relationship.

Jesus gives us the best example of this.  While He is King of the Universe, and certainly of me, He doesn’t ask, “what have You done for Me lately?”  He accepts my poor gifts, and gives them back… and more… over and over.

He doesn’t expect anything of me. He loves me because He loves to love… not because I have done or said the right things.

He doesn’t have a motive in loving me.  He wants to be my Brother, my Lord, my Helper, my Comforter, my Stronghold, my Redeemer, my Understander, and my Friend.

I am sorry for the poor friend I often am.

And I am grateful for the good friends that I do have.

But mostly… all this makes me hold more tightly to Jesus.

All I Need

Houston… Peurto Rico… Las Vegas…  Tragedies from nature and from sin.  

We’ve all thought a lot about these events.

They remind us of the precarious balance of our lives.  We can become imbalanced and lose it all in an instant.  And that might seem scary.

I was reminded of Job’s words: “Though He slay me, yet will I hope in Him. “ (Job 13:15.)

All I need is Jesus.

Maybe that sounds simplistic to you.  But maybe it is actually more realistic.

My Jesus is all I need.  Sometimes He is not all that I want.  Or even all that I THINK I need.  But He is all that I need.

When the storms shatter… Jesus reminds me that HE moves the winds and the rain.  And that while I do NOT understand the way He weathers, though He slay me, yet will I hope in Him.

When big events, such as angry protests and crazed gunman overwhelm… He reminds me that He is more.  And that while I do NOT understand the way He overcomes… though He slay me, yet will I hope in Him.

When my failures are all my eyes and heart can see… Jesus reminds me that He succeeds.  And that while I do NOT understand the way He sees and gives victory… though He slay me, yet will I hope in Him.

When I am rejected, or ignored, or misunderstood… Jesus reminds me that He knows me.  And that while I do NOT understand the way He moves men’s hearts… though He slay me, yet will I hope in Him.

All I need is Jesus.

The Rise of Fall

34 "Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself.  (Matt. 6:34 ESV)

I used to hate Autumn.  Almost as much as I despised Winter.

When the leaves started to turn bright and fall from their twigs, I knew that soon the limbs would be empty and deadish.  And it made me sad.

When the temperatures started to drop (after the temporary glory of Indian Summer,) I knew that while jackets were now almost necessary, soon the bitter blasts of icy breezes would force stocking caps and gloves onto my shivering extremities.

When the sun shuddered upward with an ever more lazy slowness, I knew that soon the daylight would become weak.  And brief.  And almost useless.

Autumn was the foretaste of dreaded Winter.  And I hated it.

But recently I have changed my mind.  I discovered that my eyes were focused too far ahead.  Autumn does indeed mean that Winter is Coming… but it’s not here yet.

And Autumn has beauties astounding.

Those brightly colored leaves, while perhaps the tree’s last hoorah before sleep, are an optical giggle that makes the heady heat of summer seem pale and dull.

The cooler temperatures allow walks without shielding shade, bacca ball in the backyard without sunburn, and picnics that don’t bring ants, or warmed watermelon, or even hastily soured mayonnaise.

And the falsely shortened day… makes it easier to fall asleep.  And oh, how I like sleep!

So this year, I don’t mind autumn.

It’s a gift.  And I would be foolish to push quickly through the first present under the (soon arriving!) Christmas tree, just because there is another gift still to come.

First Responders?

For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.' (Matt. 25:35-36 ESV)

First Responders

 Something happened recently in Houston and in Florida.  People helped each other.  It didn’t make the news as often as the tragedies did.  The professionals who courageously risked life and limb to rescue the troubled certainly got more spotlights and fame.

 But the real heroes to me were not the ones with titles and positions.

 The heroes were the ones who showed that they loved by doing what needed to be done, instead of waiting for the uniforms or depending on someone else.

 Maybe we need to change the phrase that we use to describe the professionals and uniformed from First Responders to Second Responders.

 It’s a mindset, really.  One that has become rare in our communities.

 When someone needs help, we call in the experts.  When someone is in trouble, we depend on the paid professionals.  When disasters strike we look around and hope someone ELSE, someone safer, someone trained, someone experienced, someone skilled will do the heavy work.

 I agree that at times we need help from experts.  I acknowledge that dangers are dangerous.

 But rather than let someone else respond first… we should.  While we wait, help.

 When someone is hungry, feed them. Don’t expect government agencies to provide food first.  When someone is thirsty, hook up your own water hose, don’t wait for the Water Department to arrive.  When someone is sick, offer compassion and a hand to hold, don’t just send them off to the hospital.  When someone is afraid and lonely in prison, get in your car.  Don’t just depend on the Prison Ministry Organizations to be the face of Jesus.

Be a first responder.

Work Day

Work Day

“By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread.” Genesis 3:19

Labor Day isn’t on most people’s list of top ten holidays.  It doesn’t have the childish thrill of Christmas.  It doesn’t have the nostalgic wonder of a birthday.  It doesn’t have the sweet sentimentality of Thanksgiving.  It doesn’t have the prideful excitement of Independence Day.

In fact, many of us have negative memories associated with Labor Day.  It was the holiday coincided with the beginning of a new school year.  It was the holiday on which we put away summer toys and got out autumn lawn care tools.  

And for me, it got worse when I got older.  I learned what Labor Day was celebrating.  Dwelling as I do, on the conservative side of most political, social and intellectual issues, it frustrated me to see our nation celebrating (according to the World Book Encyclopedia) the “accomplishments of organized Labor Unions.”  

But lately, I have reconsidered my attitude towards Labor Day.  I have chosen to celebrate it as a day to be thankful for work.  

Which perhaps might seem strange.  Why celebrate “work?”  Why celebrate the sweat, toil, and tears that we ceaselessly endure in order to provide bread, shelter, and a bit of pleasure?

We should celebrate “work” because work wasn’t intended by God to be sweat, toil, and tears.  God invented work when He created Adam.  Adam worked in Eden because it was part what it meant to be created in the ‘image of God.’  (God works… and so Adam worked.)  Adam worked in Eden because doing is a necessary part of living.  Adam worked in Eden because he found self-fulfillment in his work.  Adam worked in Eden because there was work that needed to be done.

And back then, work was pleasant.

It was only after Adam’s rebellion against God that work changed into something unpleasant.  After Adam chose to follow his own advice, instead of God’s, God said that work would now be different.  It would be hard.  It would hurt.  It would be monotonous at times.  It would be dangerous at times.  It would be something to despise, instead of something to find meaning through.

And so work has become hard, painful, monotonous, dangerous and despicable. 

But Jesus changes that.  The salvation that Christ brings is more than just an invisible, internal, incomprehensible change in our souls.  It has results that are visible, external, and comprehensible.  He came to return mankind to the way we were in Eden.  Except wiser, maybe.  

The change is not complete, obviously.  We still see the effects of Adam’s choice every day.  Cancer, weeds, decay, tornadoes and droughts are all effects of Adam’s profound original Sin.  BUT… Christ came to fix things.

Our work is simply one sphere of our lives that we need to bring under the authority of the Lord.  He is transforming and restoring it in the same way that He is transforming our conscience, our attitudes, our understanding of Him, our relationships, and our tonguales.

We can aid that process by altering our view of work.  Don’t see it as suffering.  See it as a wonderful chance to serve someone.  Don’t see it as something to endure.  See it as a way to demonstrate who we are.  Don’t see it as something horrible.  See it as something self-fulfilling, God-honoring, and world-changing.

Happy Work Day!

Jesus answered, "I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out." (Lk. 19:40 ESV)

Shouting Stones

I telephoned one of my Seminary professors last week.  And after talking to him, I contemplated the effect he has had on me.  When I teach, I yearn to teach like him.  I admire and sometimes copy his sense of humor.  I compare what compassion I have to the unconditional compassion he showed to struggling students.

What I do… often points to Simon Kistemaker.

But I don’t think I’ve ever actually said so, until this moment.

So really, I didn’t point at all.

Yesterday I watched the moon eat the sun.  I contemplated what lessons might be learned about a geo-centric understanding of yesterday’s events, as opposed to a solar-centric.  I was amazed at the silvery reflected light, the stillness of the atmosphere, and the spooky mid-day twilight.

I noticed the focus of everyone on the event… whether observers were lying on the ground wearing dark glasses, or walking along trying NOT to look at the dangerous light-source… from twelve-thirty until one-thirty, the eclipse was the focus of Kansas.

The eclipse declared the glory of God.  But it's even better if we actually say so.

Our thoughts, our words, our pointing are why the eclipse happened.  Perhaps that makes some folk feel better.  The eclipse did not marshal in any apocalyptic era.  The eclipse did not usher in a new age.  The eclipse was not the first stroke of a magical ‘x’ across the map of the United States that foreshadows any sort of end time.

The eclipse was simply three huge stones crying out in praise of creation’s God. 

Maybe because we have been too silent.  But we don’t have to continue to be silent.

Go Humans!

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, (Rom. 8:28 ESV)

I think I might be a humanist. 

Don’t worry, I don’t mean the kind of humanist that has come to mean choosing the ‘human’ side in the ‘humanity-divine’ debate. 

I mean that I choose the ‘personal’ side in the ‘personal-event’ debate.  I deny that events have more power than a person.  I deny that events force us to do something, be someone, or respond sometime. 

My joy comes from how we choose to perceive what is happening. 

Bad things happen all around us.  Difficult days are common.  Tragedies, accidents, and troubles abound.  But it is up to us to choose how we will respond. 

I am not suggesting we imitate a silly Pollyanna.  “Yay!  That lightning just hit my house and burned it down!  Yippee!”  I am not suggesting we deny that problems are problems. “Wow!  This broken neck of mine sure is super-duper!”  I am not suggesting that we ignore our sufferings. “What flood in the basement?  I don’t see any water!”

I am instead suggesting that we see events in a Biblical perspective.

Realizing that God is God, we can trust that even the hardest of days, the worst pains, the scariest of moments are somehow something that God is doing because He loves us.

Maybe humanist isn’t the best word to describe this attitude.  Or maybe I am trying to reclaim a good word with good meaning.

But events don’t make you.  You choose what effect they have on you.  People (humans) win in the personal-event debate.

Go, Humans!

He Understands

God understands us.

Sometimes when a friend tries to offer sympathy, the loneliness of our sorrow pushes them away.  They don’t understand, we think.  They haven’t experienced what we are going through, and their sympathy seems forced or artificial.

Tragedy brings out this reaction, particularly.  Our sorrow is our own, it is easy to believe.  No one understands the depth of our suffering and sorrow.

Until we find someone whose experience is worse than our own.

Recently we heard of a young couple, married the day before, who were in a traffic accident that took the life of the husband, and eventually the life of the wife.

I can’t imagine the thoughts and emotions of that couple’s parents.  When trying to phrase words to say (because it IS always better to say something, even when such speaking is hard,) I realized that I have not experienced the death of an adult child.  It is contrary to all expectations.  The depth of their sorrow must be indescribable.  What could possibly be said to them by one such as I… when I don’t understand.

But then I recalled another whose adult Son died.  

God understands.  Because He has experienced.

And He says, “I will never leave you, nor forsake you.”  He sings about His rod and staff comforting even in the dark valley of death.  He promises that while this couple appears lost to us… to Him they are not lost.  But they are with Him.  Where they need to be. 

He understands.

A-Maze-ing

No one comes to the Father except through Me.  John 14:6

I don’t like mazes.  You find them in puzzle magazines, on the back of cereal boxes, or as “busy work” in school when the teacher needs to fill in a few extra minutes. 

I don’t like them because they “waste” so much space.  The correct path through the maze is usually narrow and direct.  The rest of the maze is just a distraction. 

I don’t like them because they are sneaky.   It LOOKS like there are many ways to find the center.  But in a good maze, there is only one.

Usually, I cheat.  I start the maze at the end, and work towards the beginning.  For some reason, that makes it easier to solve.

But really, I don’t like them because I am not very good at them.  I get lost easily.

Okay, now this might seem silly, but think about mazes and God for a moment.

In a way, though, mankind’s relationship with God is like a maze.  Imagine God being in the center, and we are placed outside.   Our life’s task is to find the center.

There is a lot of wasted space in our life’s maze… space that doesn’t really help with our goal of finding the center.  Far too much of my time is wasted on things that don’t really matter, and I let the important things slip away.

It looks as if there are many ways to the center.  But there really is only one pathway that works.  Religions may LOOK helpful, but they don’t lead to God.

This “relationship with God” maze is a tough one.  The only way to solve it is to start at the center and move towards the outside.  Salvation starts with Christ, not with us.

Forgiveness

Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. (Ps. 32:1 ESV)

What does it mean to forgive? 

Of course, the act of forgiveness is mandatory.  That pesky parable about the unforgiving servant (where the man who had been forgiven a humongous debt turns around and refuses to forgive a petty amount) makes what should already be obvious to us, clear.  Forgive.  If you understand how much you have been forgiven by God, forgive.  If you understand the gospel, forgive.

But what does that forgiveness mean?

In a way, I don’t like this article.  And I am not even done with it yet!  But it is clear to me that our forgiveness of others needs to be extravagant, bubbly, HUGE, and maybe irrational at times.  I ought to be contemplating ways to be even more forgiving instead of evaluating what limits there are to forgiveness.

But on the other hand, what I am about to write does not necessarily contradict the mandate to forgive widely, deeply, fully, and often.  In fact, it might actually make forgiveness more gracious.

Recently I was told something profound.  Get ready for it.

Drum roll…..

“Just because I forgive you, doesn’t mean I think you’re nice.”

We incorrectly think that forgiveness means we become blind to the causes that led to the forgiveness.  When God forgives me, I remain in need of mercy, because my ongoing sins have ongoing effects.

And really, if I am a nice guy, forgiveness isn’t all that necessary.

Being forgiven by God does not turn me into a righteous man.  That’s what sanctification does.  Eventually.

When I forgive others, I am not, I believe, obligated to think that now, since I have forgiven them… they didn’t need forgiveness.  Nor does it mean that those original reasons have stopped existing.

I am forgiven because I am NOT nice.

And when I forgive you… sometimes I can still see that you are still not nice, too.

Grace is big, yes?

What's Yer Name?

Sloppy Joes

Where do names come from?  Don’t you feel sorry for “Joe” who apparently was so messy that when people were searching for what to call that messy “ground beef and tomato sauce” sandwich, they said, “we need to name this after JOE!”?

A Quisling (meaning a cowardly traitor) is named after a cowardly traitor in Norway who helped the Nazi’s take power.  A Benedict Arnold (meaning a treacherous leader) was a treacherous leader during the American Revolutionary War.

And a “Christian,” (meaning a ‘little Christ”) was originally meant as a derisive name.  Christ was a political failure, a social outcast, a man killed in a cursed way… and the enemies of His followers called them “Little Christs” to mock them.

Sort of like a loyal follower of President Bush might have been called a “Little George” by those trying to make fun of him and his loyalty.  Or maybe a Trumpet today?

But the “Little Christs” didn’t take it that way.  They clung to the name.  They reveled in it.

And we still call ourselves Christians today.

Does your name match what you are?

Are We There, Yet?

"Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matt. 18:3 ESV)

Are We There, Yet?

Children on car trips can be annoying.  “Are we there, yet?  Are we there, yet? Are we there, yet?”

But maybe they are on to something.

While it is likely that they are simply being impatient and bored, maybe they inadvertently are directing us to a better view.

Today, I am being sanctified.  I know I am, because as I understand Scripture, I see that the Trinity is always sanctifying me… and will be until I get to heaven.

But sometimes I think instead that I have already been Sanctified.  That in some area of my life, I have arrived where I am heading.  Maybe it’s contentment:  Since I am worrying less about money, I must be Sanctified in that area!  Maybe it’s patience:  Since I haven’t cursed under my breath when an inconsiderate driver cut me off on I-135, I must be Sanctified in that area!  Maybe it’s lust: Since my eyes haven’t wandered in a long time, I must be Sanctified in that area!

But I’m not.  I still need Jesus in every area of my life.

Sanctification is a process… that will end in Glorification when God will finish my transformation.

Don’t get me wrong.  I should rejoice in the victories I might see in contentment, patience, or avoiding lust.  But those victories are victories in battles, not the war.

I’m not there, yet.

And maybe the annoying kids in the back seat an remind me of that.

Its Not For You

It’s not for you…

I choose restaurants because I like them.  I make purchases because I need them.  Or at least want them.  I have conversations because I am curious, or interested, or bored, or lonely.  And you probably do, too.

I think I’ve found the anti-Christ.  It was easier than I expected.  All I had to do was consider what the opposite of Christ Jesus would be.

Everything Jesus did, He did for someone else.  I know that we like wrestle with the idea of all three Persons of the Trinity doing things ‘for His own glory…’  but that doesn’t mean He does everything selfishly for Himself.  Although He could.  Instead it means that He does everything FOR His beloved, with the goal and result that He is glorified.

But every single thing that Jesus thought, said, and did was for someone else.  He said it Himself when He declared that as our Shepherd, He  “came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” (Jn. 10:10 ESV)  

So what is the opposite of that?  Doing everything for one’s own self.

The opposite of Christ is doing things for myself.

Wow.

Self-help, Psycho-babble, ‘my rights,’ and the Modern American Way all push us to do things for me.  Almost every reason for romance presented by Hollywood is to find happiness.  Almost every reason given by guidance counselors to choose a career is to find contentment.  Almost every reason given by most of our advisors is to find self-satisfaction.

And all of that is the opposite of what Christ displays.

Life… it’s not for you.

Names

For the sake of my servant Jacob, and Israel my chosen, I call you by your name, I name you, though you do not know me. (Isa. 45:4 ESV)

Names

The power to name something is incredible. 

Yes, it sounds like psychobabble.  But I am convinced that the name/thing correlation is strong.  Particularly in personal matters. 

Is the nerd nerdy because he was called a nerd?  Or was he called a nerd because he was nerdy?  Is your dog a dumb dog because you call him that, daily?  Or is he called dumb daily because he is dumb?  I think it is both.

Perhaps I never exerted myself in sports because I was convinced I was “slow.”  Perhaps you don’t show emotions because you’ve been told you were unemotional.  Perhaps you are afraid because people named you, “fearful.”

But the real power comes not from the name giver, but the name receiver. 

I’m not, of course, referring to official names.  I don’t think that “Faith” is naturally more faithful, or “Claire” is automatically more bright.  But descriptive adjectives, labels about personality and expectations, and even our roles are effected by that correlation.

The names you choose to believe are names that become accurate.  A sixth-grade history teacher told me I was a Great Historian.  A Middle School teacher told me I was “wise-beyond-my-years.”  Friends in high school told me I was funny.  And those names stuck to my psyche because I chose to let them.  And my life was changed.

So what names do you believe about yourselves? 

God says you are fixed, and no longer broken.

God says you are His child, not an outcast.

God says you are loved.

God says you are precious.

God says you are able.

God says you are free.

God says you are… His.

Who do you say that you are?

Fireworks?

When I was growing up in Michigan, fireworks were illegal.  We could use sparklers, small firecrackers, and smoke bombs… but nothing amazing, nothing cool, nothing dramatic.

So late on July 4, we would really enjoy the firework display.  The limitation on other types of fireworks made the colored lights in the sky seem like magic.  When we said, “Ohhh, Ahhhh” we meant it. 

But now things are different.  I can buy rockets that shoot into the sky and explode with bright ear-shattering light.  We can drive around Kechi and applaud and whistle at the display of celebratory explosions taking place right in front of us.

And so, somehow, even though the “big” fireworks have improved over the years, they seem to be less and less impressive.

Constant easy exposure has caused the wonderful to become commonplace.  We have become deadened to the emotional impact.

Sin sneaks into our lives like that, too.  Our consciences become deadened to the attitudes and actions that used to shock us.  Constant exposure to inappropriate language, disrespect, selfishness, and doubt has made those things seem ordinary.

In 1939, “Gone with the Wind” became the first movie to use bad language.  Now most Americans won’t SEE a movie with less than a PG-13 rating.

Fifty years ago, students would never have considered talking back to a teacher.  Now it’s not only the students, but the parents who often show disrespect.

In the Great Depression, showing kindness was seen as an admirable activity.  Now the media presents it as a weakness.

We have gotten used to it.  And it has grown.

What’s the solution?  We need to move backwards.  As Christians, we need to be less “used to” unrighteousness.  We need to stop ignoring our own behavior. 

We need to live the way we should… not the way we are used to.

Always Room for Jello

Excuses, Walls, and Jello

I am guilty. 

We don’t hear people say that very often these days.  We hear things that SEEM like “I am guilty.”   Our apologies are usually fortressed by excuses.  “I am sorry I lied, but I was trying to protect you;” or “I am sorry I hurt you, but I was defending myself.”

We blame society, our parents, illness, ignorance, forgetfulness, the devil, or our third grade teacher.

And I don’t know why we work so hard to avoid admitting our guilt.

Christianity is not just a set of guidelines to improve behavior in our society.  True Christianity is giving guilty people a fantastic relationship with God.

And it starts with admitting our guilt.

Every possible bad thing I have ever done, wanted to do, imagined doing, or thought about doing is like a wall dividing us from God.  In that sense, I understand why we might want to avoid admitting guilt.  Being on God’s side is a good thing…

But the way to tear down the wall is NOT to deny the wall is there.  The way to tear down the wall is to let the forgiveness of Christ turn the wall to jello.

I don’t need to hide or deny my guilt.  Because no matter how big my guilt is, Jesus’ forgiveness is satisfyingly bigger. 

And so… I am guilty.  But more than that, I am also forgiven.

Dissecting Love

It was a radio! With it, I could hear strange channels where people talked in sharp accents.  I could hear normal music and music that made my eyes pop out.  I was used to AM and FM, but this radio had settings for acronyms that I had never seen, and don’t even remember today.

It was amazing.

And so, of course, I took it apart.  A set of screwdrivers and needle-nosed pliers were all I needed to turn that wondrous machine into a collection of exotic metal bits and colored wires.  And it never made a sound again.

When we dissect things, we destroy them.  Sure, we might learn some things.  Of course, we might gain spare parts.  But we ruin them.  They aren’t the same, and never will be.

I feel the same way about love.  I mean real love… not mamby-pamby Hallmark channel romance.  I don’t mean warm puppies and chocolate ice cream.  When I write here of love, I mean the unconditional kind that has its sole origins in God’s character, actions, and relationships.

Love is really astounding.  When we find it (giving or getting) it shocks us.  It changes us.  It lifts us.  It gives us reason.  It gives us hope.  It gives us faith.  It gives us… well, everything.  I don’t think I can overstate how fireworky and blissful love is.

Until we dissect it.

I don’t like talking about those supposed ‘three forms of love:’ eros, filos, and agape.  Because love is always, in any form, the same:  it is unconditional support, acceptance, and affection.  It is a willingness, nay an eagerness to sacrifice for the beloved.  It is an unquestioning placement of the beloved’s needs, wellness, and even wishes above one’s own.

If eros is a kind of love, than it is simply love.  If filos is a kind of love, than just call it love.  If agape is the best love, it does not supplant other loves.   Love is love.

And love is grand.