God showed up at my house today.  I didn’t get to see him, but I know he was here. There were no witnesses, and no one heard anything that could prove my statement, but I believe that he swung by to drop something off… Something that I need to work on.  It was not something that most people would enjoy having in their life and to be honest, I am not sure that I am happy about it, but I believe that he brought this gift (and I am trying to see it as a gift) to me for a reason.  I have a job to do.  My problem is, I just don’t know the right way to handle it.  This gift is scary.  It is broken and toxic.  It makes me hurt in new and unfamiliar ways.  It screams, “Pretend I am not here, and I will just go away.” But I can’t.  I know that God brought it to me.  I can’t ignore that.

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A lot of my discussions lately have revolved around the idea that God allows us to go through crisis to awaken us to the fact that all is not right.  I feel like this is one of those times when He is putting it right in my face so I can’t miss it and asking me to step into the role He has designed for me.  The good news for me is that this is not my crisis.  It isn’t mine, but I have been put on a path to intersect someone who needs to awaken to the fact that all is not right with their world.  Now…what is my role?  How do I help?  I don’t know yet.

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I have been praying about this situation all afternoon which is completely foreign to me.  Normally, I would just make the decisions and handle the situation and later it would hit me that I never pinged God for his input.  So, here I am doing it “the right way”, taking it to God first and I am, well…I’m still waiting.  Waiting for any kind of answer.

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 Maybe if I write it out…  God please hear my prayer.

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What should I be doing?  Just tell me God.  I have option A – G ready to go.  I know how to set them in motion even if I don’t know the end result.  I am prepared to do anything you tell me to, but I need it to be loud and clear.  You know me.  I get in my own way.  I overthink it every time.  I am second guessing my every move wondering if it is really your will or my own.  Please just make it easy for me and do it soon.  The waiting is killing me, but I have to trust you.  I know you have my back.  I know your plan is unfolding in your time not mine.  It is just so hard…  I want to show them your glory and I fear that I missed the opportunity you laid out.  I don’t want to let you down.

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I am a new Christian.  If you have read any of my other posts you know that not too long ago I thought this God thing was a sham and that Christians were pathetic.  Well, I am eating my words on a daily basis and truthfully, I love how it tastes.

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As a new Christian I have had to learn how to move out of my comfort zone and have faith in something unseen.  Initially, this was very difficult for me as I did not want to admit that I had been wrong or that what was happening inside me was anything more than an emotional response to new ideas.  It has taken a while for me to wrestle with my own issues about what being a Christian really means.  There are a few specific events over the last two years that stand out to me as major milestones in my development.  Here is just one of those big events that helped me to see God’s amazing power.

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Prayer has been one of the biggest obstacles for me to overcome on my journey to developing a relationship with God.  What I am talking about is not just praying, but having meaningful, genuine, heartfelt conversations with someone you truly love and trust.  I am just guessing here, but I have a feeling that this a sticking point for many people and especially for those new Christians who are seeking to find how to have a deeper relationship with God.

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A while back my pastor challenged us as a church to pray “bold prayers.”  I was a little baffled by this at first. In my infancy I thought he meant to pray for big things. You know: miracles and healings.  To me this was just wishful thinking. These prayers were irrational and unprovable and I had no use for them.  But when he described the prayer he intended, I was intrigued by the simplicity and the power of what he was asking me to do.  It was the perfect prayer for me.   It was simple, meaningful, and best of all it could prove to me whether or not this prayer horsepucky worked!  This prayer was a staple of his sermons.  I had heard it from him before, but had never considered it for myself.

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Before I tell you what the prayer was, a little background is in order here.  I am a teacher.  I make a living educating kids about “the three R’s” (Readin’, Ritin’,&  Rithmetic’).  More than that, I believe my purpose is to teach kids about life:  How to enjoy learning, how to work with others, how to manage time, how to set goals and work toward them, and how to make and keep friends.  I have always believed that the kids that pass through my door from year to year may never remember a thing I taught them academically, but the lessons they learn about life will be with them forever and I take great pride in having a hand in helping develop their character.  That is an honor for me and is what keeps me coming back year after year.

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So, back to the prayer…  The pastor dared us to pray the bold prayer of “Send me your broken people.”  Seems appropriate enough for a teacher right?

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I am thinking, “I’ve got this!  I am a problem solver.  Daily, I make decisions that affect kid’s lives forever.  If I cannot be trusted to deal with kid’s problems, then who can?”

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Man, was I ever in for an awakening!

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In my decade or so of teaching before uttering this prayer, I was aware of a number of kids going through difficult divorces and had heard of mistreatment and abuse in some of my kids’ past.  When you have as many students as I have had over the years, it is inevitable that you will come across these stories, but my previous experiences could not have prepared me for the bombs that started dropping on me the very morning that I said this prayer during our moment of silence.

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Of course, I cannot share specifics about my students and would never share something that could embarrass or hurt them, but I will just tell you that God heard my prayer and unloaded the Enola Gay’s payload on me for several days.   Like Hiroshima, I was a wreck and I didn’t know how to put the pieces back together for myself much less for the kids that so desperately needed my help.

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I wish I could say that I came through and saved the day.  I wish that I could tell you that I stopped their hurting and changed their circumstances.  I wish… but I cannot.  The reason I can say that without being heartbroken is that I know it is not me who can fix anything in other people’s lives.  That is God’s privilege and He alone can right the wrongs and heal our hurts.

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The greatness of this understanding is that it allows us to be God’s hands, feet, and mouth here on Earth and to allow Him to use us to accomplish His work.  This truth was evident to me as I spoke to these students about their pain.  I found myself speaking to them though I had no idea what to say.  Gentle and compassionate words were coming from my mouth and I became keenly aware of my participation in a dialogue that I was not actively contributing to.  My mind was blank and yet the words poured from my throat as though someone else was speaking.  I know that was God using me for his purposes.  I have no doubt in my mind that He had that conversation with those children because I could never have reached them with my own simple words.

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How awesome is that???

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Bold prayers.  I tell you what! They are for real.

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Don’t take my word for it.  Give it a try… I dare you.

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Here’s another guest post by Doubting Matthew.

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I heard my pastor use this term a couple of weeks ago and laughed out loud.  My wife immediately  turned to me to point out that I would have loved that term a few years ago.  She was absolutely right.  The “old me” would have seen this term as a total slam on the mindless followers I viewed Christians to be.  Not growing up in church, I never really understood the depth of the references to the people as the sheep or the flock.  I knew that Christians did not see it this way, but in my mind it was easy to simplify the reference to a few choice thoughts. They could be described something like this:

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*    Sheep are dumb. They are incapable of having their own thoughts. They just follow the crowd.

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*    Sheep are under someone else’s control.  They do what the shepherd says because he has a

      big stick.

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*    Sheep are insignificant. Other than their wool and meat, sheep have no value.  They are 

      simply a commodity.

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*    Sheep are mindless. They do what they are told without considering the possibilities or the

      outcomes.

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*    Sheeple are pathetic.  They go about their lives grazing on the pastures of social control, no

      thoughts of their own,  conditioned to do as their church leaders tell them without regard for

      the possibilities or the outcomes, and nursing an unhealthy dependence on a make believe

      shepherd.

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Recently, I read a book called A Shepherd’s Look at Psalm 23. This book breaks down this passage over the course of a couple hundred pages.  It is an easy read and I highly recommend it.  Interestingly, I had never read Psalm 23 prior to reading this book, so when I flipped through the Bible to find it, I was astonished by what I found.

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Curious?

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Go ahead.  Look at it yourself.  I’ll give you a minute…  Psalm 23

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How was it?  Short you say?  Only 6 lines?  Yeah… that is what I said.  How much meaning could really be packed into so few words?  On the surface, the reference to Christians being sheep seems fairly simple and straight forward, but I have come to see that there is a depth and beauty hidden in its message that I would have totally missed on my own.  There are layers of meaning that are hidden to you and me, but much more obvious to the person who understands the intricacies of the life of a shepherd.  God has an incredible way of layering and intertwining timeless truths and meaning into His book that we cannot always unravel on our own.  Sometimes it takes the perspective of another to shed light on His words.  This book did that for me and I have a new outlook on sheep.  Here are some of the beliefs that I have now:

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*    Sheep are stubborn.  Some sheep have a tendency to get themselves into precarious

      situations because of their desire to make   their own choices regardless of their

      shepherd’s direction.

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*    Sheep need guidance.  Without a shepherd to guide them to fresh pastures they will

      completely decimate their environment.  Left to their own devices, they will wander

      into deadly situations and will consume whatever looks appealing without regard for

      the dangers.

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*    Sheep are valued.  The shepherd sees them not as a commodity, but as a reflection of his

      hard work.  He recognizes the personalities of the individual sheep and appreciates them

      for the characteristics that they each bring to his flock.

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*    Sheep have faith.  They trust in their shepherd so much that they follow him of their own

      volition.  The shepherd protects them. He provides for them. He assures that they have all

      that they need.  This deep sense of security keeps them close to him.

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*    I am Sheeple.  Regardless of my ideas about how my life should go, I find contentment in

      trusting in my shepherd, following where He leads me, and knowing that I am in good

      hands.  I am guided safely away from the dangerous situations and activities that I might

      otherwise be tempted to consume.  I am constantly watched over and provided for.  Most

      of all I have value to my shepherd as he has plans for my life.

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“I am Sheeple”…  I love that!  Never in a million years would I have thought that I could say that and be proud of it, but more than proud, I am contented in it.  And that for me is what makes all the difference.

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Well done Matt!  Well done!  Keep ‘em coming.

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I’m so thankful for Doubting Matthew or “The Once” Doubting Matthew!  Not just because he’s another Unlikely Christian, but also because he’s come to the rescue with some good stuff for the website.  I’ve been so CRAZY BUSY lately, with all that goes along with being a first year teacher, that I just haven’t had the time to do much of anything.  How many days until summer break?

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I do have some stuff marinating in this brain of mine and I’m guessing at some point I’ll have an opportunity to share, but until then, I leave you in the oh-so-capable hands of another Unlikely Christian cut from the same cloth – Doubting Matthew.

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All in – By Doubting Matthew

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I am not a betting man.  I don’t enjoy the uncertainty of putting my hard earned cash on the line for something that is not guaranteed.  I don’t bet on football.  I don’t play the lottery and I certainly don’t hit the casinos.  It is not a judgment on anyone who enjoys a leisurely bet, I just don’t get any satisfaction from those activities.  I am simply wired to play it pretty safe…call me boring. 

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That is until you put me in or on something with some horsepower.  There is something about having a gear shift and a throttle that gives me the courage that I have nowhere else in my life.  Cars, boats, motorcycles, jet-skis, 4x4s, even Razor electric scooters:  if it moves under power you can bet I am going to test its limits.  I love being the sole captain of my vessel.  I feel at one with my machines and once I have settled in, I am willing to take some pretty big risks.  Not surprisingly, this character trait has not always played out in my favor. 

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“Is that what a 3-gear burnout does to new tires?  Sorry Dad.”

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“What do you mean officer?  Surely TxDOT would not have banked that curve so perfectly if they did not intend for it to be taken at autobahn speeds.”

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“I thought for sure we had another 10 miles worth of gas.” (Me pushing the car into the gas station with the help of two elderly ladies…no joke)

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So if you have not caught on yet, the theme of my life is I like to be in control of the outcome.  I am uncomfortable deciding whether to bet red or black at the roulette wheel.  Choosing the over/under on a Superbowl game would be unthinkable (mostly because I have no idea what an over/under is.)  And dropping even $5 a week on scratch offs just seems like a waste of perfectly  good beer money.  I don’t have the final say in any of these situations so I have a tough time taking the chance of losing.

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These same principles can be applied to my spiritual life for the last 30 some odd years.  I wanted to be in control and do all of the  driving.  I didn’t want to apologize to my Father for destroying the good things he gave me.  I didn’t want to answer to The Authority on why I wasn’t following His laws.  I didn’t want to admit that I made a mistake and needed help to get where I was going.  I wanted to do it all myself and I was placing my bets on my “good nature” to make that happen.  The thing is that when it comes to being “in  control” of my life, I had it all wrong and at times I have totally jacked it up.  I have made reckless choices and captained my ship into some pretty dangerous waters.  My “good nature” failed me and I found out the hard way that when I take the wheel and drive my life, I am the one fully responsible for the carnage left in my wake.

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So, I have just admitted to you that I am a screw up and can direct my own life about as well as I can pick winning lottery numbers.   I have tried every game in the casino and made a royal mess of my chances at coming out ahead.  I need direction.  I crave meaning.  I long for contentment.   

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At long last, I have found these things I so desperately wanted my whole life and I found them in one of the last places that I would have ever expected: Jesus Christ.  Now, there wasn’t a glorious moment of clarity and my existence hasn’t become miraculously perfect, but in small degrees, my life has taken a turn for the better.   Oddly enough, I didn’t have any input into the course it has taken.  It was decided for me long ago, I just needed to stop fighting the wheel.  Don’t think this comes easily to a guy like me because it hasn’t.  I still struggle to keep my gaze on Him.  I still mess up.  I am still not a perfect husband or father.  I still drive too fast and do burnouts in my dad’s car.  The difference is that I have someone to turn to when I am struggling with my demons and that  gives me courage.

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So where does this leave me?  What do I do with this courage?  Well, the truth is, I believe that it leaves me in prime position to bet on the sure thing. And I’m going ALL IN…  Who could lose with Jesus driving, right?

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Here’s a guest post from another Unlikely Christian – “Doubting Matthew”

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The Dirtiest Word I Ever Heard.

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There was a time that I wanted nothing to do with God or Christianity. (If you read my last post, this is not surprising.) Typically, I could put on my best face and drift through life trying not to be noticed or called out on my beliefs because having to explain myself was excruciating. The reason it was so difficult was mostly that I didn’t have a clear picture of anything related to God much less how I really felt about it. I did not grow up in church and what limited experience I had around the church turned me against anything that vaguely resembled religion. My early church life is a story all its own, so I will save that for another time. The story that I want to share with you is one that I have never told and it stands out to me as a signpost pointing at my utterly confused life. The sign over my head read “Lost,” but the truth of it would not become apparent to me for more than a decade after these events.

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I was a first year teacher in an elementary school in a well-to-do area of DFW. Anyone who has taught in a wealthier school knows the scrutiny you endure from the stay at home moms in their new Escalades and the overbearing, executive dads that have little respect or time on their Tag Heuers for a lowly teacher. I was already struggling to maintain the façade of a guy who had it all together when I was blindsided by a comment that one parent made to another within earshot of me. It sent me reeling. Her snide remark was not about my attire, my lack of experience, or even my questionable teaching methods. No, her remarks were directed straight at my character and I didn’t like what she had to say one little bit.

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So what was it she said that was so terrible? Well… she called me “A Good Christian Man.”

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I know, right?!? I was immediately sick.

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How could she call me such a thing?

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Why would she even think that???

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I had never shared my faith (or lack thereof) with anyone at school. Separation of church and state in my mind went to the extreme and I avoided the topic like kids avoid beets… I pretty much didn’t touch it. I wondered what she saw in me that made her think I was a Christian. To make things worse, the one who called me such a wretched name was just the kind of “Christian” that I despised most: haughty, judgmental, nosy, and a gossip to boot. I wanted nothing to do with her attempt at a compliment. I saw no compliment in being put in the same category with others I knew that praised Jesus from one side of their mouths and spit venom from the other. I would rather her have called me a stupid kid. I could accept that. I was a stupid kid and was aware of it, but just hoped that no one else had figured me out yet.

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I wish that there was some brilliant and redeeming ending to this story, but there is not. I had no idea what to do with her accusation. I wanted to tell her that I was not, in fact, a Christian, but that I was just a good person. Not surprisingly, I found that there is really no good way to denounce Christianity without besmirching your own reputation. So I did what I had to do… I decided to grin and bear it. Mentally, I changed her statement to fit what I could accept as a compliment: He is kind, and thoughtful, and caring, and giving, and all of those pie in the sky, idealistic notions that “Christians” say they want to be and that this Jesus fellow was purported to be.

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I have never mentioned the exchange between these two parents to anyone. For many years, I recounted the words she spoke with indignation. Until recently, the label she placed on me and all that I perceived it to mean felt like an assault on my character. Honestly, I still have trouble calling myself a Christian. The term still evokes an internal defiance that I have to choke down at times. That difficulty has waned as I become more comfortable with what being a Christian really means. I no longer see it as a label or a box in which I am being pigeon-holed. This word is not a descriptor of what I am but rather a direction that my life has taken. Of course, I wish that I understood then what I do now. I am sure that I would have spared myself a lot of internal turmoil and heartache if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in being the boss of me. Letting go of one’s illusion of control is very freeing.

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This “Christian direction” is exposing me to sides of myself that I never believed existed, igniting passions in me that I never knew I had and exposing opportunities to turn my fears into triumphs. I used to fear life, but with God leading the way, it now feels like an adventure. Every situation provides me an opportunity to be useful and to share God’s love. A few years ago, “sharing God’s love” would have been just too cheesy for me to say, but I am letting go of my hang-ups slowly but surely. And it feels really good to let go.

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Good stuff Doubting Matthew!  Keep them coming!

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