Like a Child.

Paul talks in Corinthians how the Corinthians should be spoken to as if they were children. I think that he meant that as much in a harsh manner as he did for a learning moment. I am sure if the Corinthians were anything like me they to hear someone tell them to stop acting like a child: in a sense "Grow Up!" But I am sure he was on the graceful side of this as well: in a sense saying--"Stop reading so much into this relationship with God thing. It's so easy. Just love Him unconditionally as he does you." Children don't have the knowledge-base yet to read too much into what people tell them. If you say jump they jump. If you say any double meaning phrase--they won't understand. If you teach them with sarcasm: all they hear is the literal translation. Children are so simple.

Then Jesus said the kingdom of God was for children. And he went on to say that unless we become like these children we cannot enter the kingdom of God.

My point is that there is something to this "child" thing. I know that we have to become like children, but I also know there is so much to learn from a child. I think we all have stories of the simplicity of a child's wisdom cutting us to our core. All I really wanted to say in this tiny blog was that a child has taught me so much recently about God's love. Her name is Hope Abigail Gordon. She is Trisomy 18 baby (which means her life will more than likely end before her 1st birthday). Well against all odds and the prayers of the faithful, this sweet sweet baby is living strong. She is two days old and has already gone through a list of: "I didn't expect her to ________" She has very much been a piece of God's love in this world to me. I am just blown away. Obviously the miracle of her live and endurance under dire conditions is enough to catch a glimpse of God. But you can truly sense His presence just being near her. If you want you can follow our photo blog at www.oliveourmoments.com and keep up with her life. We (my wife and I) have committed to capturing her story every single day in precious stills for her wonderful family. I hope I have bitten off more than I can chew and will spend years seeing her everyday to snap a photo.

Loving Redemption or Loving Judgement

There is funny terminology that Paul uses in a couple of his passages about salvation and the love of Christ--that some receive it or try to use it out of vanity. This is a tad bit confusing to me. How could someone use the love of Christ in such a negative way?

But walk with me in my mediocre wanderings over life and spirituality for a moment. I want to take this little idea of loving people out of judgment or out of redemption.

In the love of judgment, love is somehow jaded to a task. We are loved, we are called to love, and therefore we HAVE to love. It's like the idea of having to do something or getting to do something. Love will often become a task for us. The pieces of life where we interject our definition of love, combined with the true objective nature of love defined in Christ, can become the check-list that we perform to fulfill the love box of living a Christ centered life. Okay. I know blah, blah, pretty words. So  example: I over heard a conversation where a young lady (we'll call her Talker) said the phrase: "I am only telling  you this because I love you," to another young lady (we'll call her Listener) But the terminology that Talker used to lambaste this other girl would be a far cry to be called love. Now, no doubt the truth is that Talker probably did love this girl because of the nature of concern in this conversation. But she did it in such a way that if I were Listener, I would have crawled under a rock and died rather than be embraced by Talker. The coarse nature of the conversation felt a lot more like Talker was passing her judgment on Listener rather than love. Her love was check-list-like. (I know the thing I HAVE to do as a Christian friend is confront the junk in Listener's life.) A more apt phrase would have been, "I am only telling you this because I judge you." I think about how often things are done in love to pass judgment? How a Christian might speak to a fellow Christian who struggles with homosexuality, how a Christian can oppose abortion yet support the death sentence, how a Christian could justify not giving to the poor because of what they might do with the money...

I need to pause and say that most of what I write on this blog is from my heart...which usually means that it is something that I struggle with. I judge out of love way more than I should. I think of how often, when I was in the student ministry, I would pick apart the way another ministry was run. I really was doing it out of love for wanting this other youth program to be stronger and better, but I did it in such a way that said: "I do it better." Or how about the way I ignore a particular neighbor of mine and justify it because they talk way to long and slow...and I just don't have the time. Or how, knowing my own past, I could ever even think negatively about the character of someone who has fallen from grace. So even though some of my writing may sound like a finger pointing: know that it is written more like four fingers pointed back at me laughing at me in my foolish attempt at life.

BUT what abut loving by way of redemption. Isn't just the sound of that wonderful! I cannot imagine living without redemption. Loving redemption says the difficult things to friends, but says them with the Spirit of love that lives inside of those who call Heaven home. I think about a particular time in my life where by no means was I in the right frame of mind, life, or spirituality. The last thing I wanted was for someone to call me out, but a friend grabbed me and said--"Dammit Randy, I love you too much, and God loves you too much, and has such an amazing plan for your life. I am going to walk in this with you. I am going to be your help mate to redemption." What followed were lots of tears and hard words. I felt like I had be grabbed by the ears and shook like a paint can. But not one judgmental word came out of his mouth. And honestly he taught me what it is to love in redemption. He taught me what it meant when Romans says that while we were still sinners Christ died for us. It taught me that my life always needs to fall in line of redemption. I don't have to agree with this world, but I have to love in it because I was loved in it. I don't have to be tolerant to disgrace, but I have to love in the same way that redemption loved me. I can be in this world but not of it. I can strive to love always with the understanding of my own redemption to life. I can live as an ambassador of the love of Christ. I want to walk like a living embrace rather than a rap sheet. 

Our Pawn Moments.

I actually like the double meaning that title can bring. Pawn moments: selling something of precious value for a fraction of it's cost for a vanishing cause or pleasure. Maybe I'll have to have an: Our Pawn Moments II tomorrow on just this subject, however today is about our metaphorical pawn moments--as in chess board.

Do you know that your knowledge of God is limited? I mean really. Do we get that? Do we know that He loves us? Even when his love is defined by war and death as much as it is pursuit and perfection? And this is where I dip into the realm of our pawn moments.

I know there are many people out there that use our relationship with God like that of a chess board. God is the chess master with a full understanding of the game and a completed view of the board. He knows strategy and understands sacrifice. And there are the pawns-us-who have limited sight and a true misunderstanding of the game. In the world of a pawn we feel as though we are the most important. We feel like we get the whole picture, when really our picture is incredibly limited.

Our pawn moments look a lot like blame, hurt, anger, or even grief towards God. We buck up, we get mad, and we get jaded in our relationship with him. Often, time heals those little pawn moments, but sometimes they can devastate us in such a way we turn our backs to God forever. The reason why I say pawn moment is that we just can't fully understand the why. We can't comprehend death over life. We can't figure out why God wouldn't spare us and our hurts. (Even though He didn't eve spare Himself.) But we are not God. We don't know the extent of what God is working on. We might not be able to see the glory in our hurt, but if we suffer in Christ's name, as a pawn, what a joy to be counted worthy. Is it easy? By no means. It wrenches us beyond belief. But is God good? Yes. Does He love us? Yes. We only know partial now, but then we will fully know.

Pawn moments are not bad, and they are not unnatural. Jesus promised us if we followed him that we would have troubles in this world. But we can never loose sight of the fact that in God--there is life.

I think one of the best glimpses of not getting lost in our pawn moments is birthed from the origin of the song "How He Loves" by John Mark McMillian:


How He Loves : A Song Story from john mark mcmillan on Vimeo.

In perspective of His love, I count my life worthy of whatever may come.

What if...

...words were like fossil fuels? Think about this: what if words were limited. If there were an "empty" for words? Like the word totalitarian is probably going to live forever. I don't think people use that word enough for it to be in danger of extinction. But what about words like: I, awesome, friend, bathroom. Words that are used a lot, every day, by everyone, would be nearing extinction. What about the word love. What if one day you open your mouth to tell your wife or husband or child that you love them, but when you get to the word love you hit a brick wall. You try to figure out what to say, but the word love is all used up. It is no longer in existence. How would we say: "I love you." I guess my point is this...In my life I hope that I never rely only on the word of love to show love to the people I love. I hope everyday what I do will speak louder than that simple little word. So, when the word love leaves this world in extinction--the ones that I do love will know it whether I can say love or not. But if we are truthful the people in our life that we really love, really really love: the word love was never sufficient anyways.

I am commited?

This morning I was reminded of much of my life lived in a roller coaster fashion in my walk with God. Many of my teenage years were very much a waiting-for-the-next-camp-experience walk. There were so many ups and cliche downs, but why? I woke up from a dream where I was doing something wrong. I don't quite remember the dream, but it was one of those ones you wake up from and have to take a minute to realize it's not real. I think I stole something. Anyways, the point is I woke up frantic. I felt like I was in deep doo-doo. As I came too it was all laughable because there was no real trouble. But like I said something about that triggered my thoughts about being that up-and-down sort of guy for so long. The word commitment popped into my head bone. I don't think this is profound, but I wonder if the reason so many of us struggle with our relationship with God is because we have commitment issues. Now, obviously that would be a no brainer. Of course if we have up and down moments in our relationship with God we have commitment issues. I think there is something to that though in a deeper sense. I believe we get uncomfortable with digging into our feelings: really letting God root around in there to heal us. In that discomfort, we create a reason to bail--we come up with a real life "it's me not you" moment with God. We choose to fall to our own sinful desires, put up a little gap between us and God, and wallow there for a bit. Then knowing full well we are in need of Him: we re pursue Christ again. The relationship feels like new. It has a bit of "dating" to it. We feel overwhelmed with certain emotions (even negative ones). We feel like it is a new relationship. And that will satisfy us long enough to get close until the discomfort of our past hurts come to the surface once again. We are faced again with the difficulty of looking headlong into Christ with the disgust of our lives, but where there is healing--or tuck tail and run. Most of us run. It is really like our own commitment problems in relationships. We do what we have to do until fear cohearses us to find something new. We try to create a new "God" with a leaving and coming back charade. Unfortunately two things are at issue there: #1 Healing outside of God never truly happens and you will run from many things and cause many hurts and add to the pile of your own life's fodder. We need healing in our lives. Everyone has hurts. God heals. #2 God would call that sort of life luke warm. He only has one answer for that: to spit it out of His mouth. I hate the thought of making God sick.

I am committed? No, I AM COMMITTED. My choice is in Christ (not my feelings).

The Closer I Get the Less I Know.

I am getting the chance to speak again soon. Since I resigned from student ministry those opportunities have been few and far between. I do not think I am a great speaker, but I enjoy it. I found a great verse of inspiration this week in being a communicator:

For Christ [sent me] to preach the Good News—and not with clever speech, for fear that the cross of Christ would lose its power. (1 Cor 1:17)

That is right up my alley. I usually strive to be clever...to pull student into a Pied-Piper sort of following. But as I have grown closer to God recently I realize I know less of Him than I ever have. And I am comfortable in that. I will be able to know some things, but I want to let God be God, let me be me, and do nothing but share His love. My message for this speaking engagement: LOVE.

I don't want to get in the way of the cross. If Paul can strive for that even though he actually had unbelievable knowledge and experience of God--surly little ol' me can do the same.

I Don't Feel Like It.

This entry is kinda forced. I don't really have a specific thing to grab onto. I think I am more in need of getting things out of my head out of my heart and to wrestle with them. I choose to do this online because maybe someone out there will stumble over this and figure out that they are too in need of some of my meanderings to help them figure out the junk in their head and heart. Wow. Run-on sentences are awesome...not. But that is okay. Forcing myself to write this entry actually does spur on something in my brain. That is CHOICE. We sometimes have to choose to do things. Life is much more a choice than it is a boogie board trip on our feelings. However, we often base much of what we do off of our feelings. Immediate feeling even. I say immediate feelings because there is a blast over us (or at least over me) to jump on impulse feelings and ride the excitement. But think about your life. The really good decisions for me seem to morph out of a feeling moment that was thought on and chosen anticipating an outcome: rather than jumping at the first feeling and trying to figure out where the journey is going while on the ride. And in that sense often the journey that I choose will rarely look like the feeling of the impulse.

I am a very excitable guy. You could look at me and say: let's (fill in the blank) and if it fits into my moral compass, has a bit of excitement, and has a low "cost"--I would be hard pressed not to jump right in. So from my experiences in life I know what it is to jump on feelings. I know what it is to ride the wave of feelings. I know what it looks like to crash. But I also know what it is to make a CHOICE. A choosing where the outcome is calculated as best as I can: consequences and rewards. The fruit of life for me 9.9 times out of 10 comes out of the times when I choose to do something rather than jump into something from a feeling.

So what? Well for me: so what is doing something we choose to do even when we don't feel like doing it. Choice and commitment trump feelings. I can remember times when I chose to chase after God even though I know that my falling hurts Him. That's not what I felt like do. Sin will make me feel like crawling under a rock and waiting for God to send redemption my way. But what I have to do, in those moments especially, is CHOOSE to chase Him. Choose to face my failures. Choose to face God within my calamity. Those choices are not made off my feelings. My feelings in those moments do not lead me to God's grace, but my choice to face Him in my sin does.

The other little piece for me...when things are going great: to choose to chase Him. I bet the lowest moments in the spiritual lives of people are when things are going great because we tend to coast on our God feelings. (Rather than keep on our chase choice.) Unfortunately our ride of good times ends up being the start of our worst falls. We have to choose always in every situation to put God first in our lives. Think about all the people who would benefit from your life passionate over the things of God: the miracles, the love, the hope, the grace...

The Foot of the Cross

Cliche phrases grip the Christian community. It comforts us. They are easy to use and help to answer questions correctly. But cliche phrases started somewhere are carried clout at some point in their existence. I was thinking the other day about my life. I was praying. I told God and reminded myself in prayer that "I needed to come to the foot of the cross with my burdens." And then I stopped to consider what exactly it was that I was saying. In the same way that Albert Einstein solved problems with physics: I began to visualize myself in the situation of bringing myself to the foot of the cross. Here are my thoughts. I will go ahead and say that there are a few things I know will be more presumptuous than fact or even biblical. I know that the way my minds eye wanders through the scene is not necessarily the way in which the crucifixion unfolded. But I do believe God has given us an imagination that is absolutely necessary for Him to be able to help teach us the things we need to learn. This is just me on a fictitious walk based on my limited understanding of and incredible God.

I begin to walk up this hill. I know that I have a burden. I know where to take it. I feel like this will be an easy venture. After all Jesus says that I can take upon myself His burden which is easy and light and cast mine off. That sounds great. Besides I know this burden itself will consume me if I do not sluff it. So I venture up this hill. I know what is ahead. I know what crucifixion means. I know the cost of this climb to the foot of the cross. However, my expectations are all wrong. I expected to see sadness and mourning. Instead I see celebration. But not a celebration of Christ conquering death for our salvation. The celebration is coming from the bystanders. There is a crowd of people excited for the death of Jesus. The dirty executioners are beside themselves. They live for this. Not a single bone in their body holds and inkling of love. They have no heart. They cannot wait for this execution. The crowd: they are the ones who decided to bring Christ to his end in this way. They are anticipating this death as well. It's eerie. I look around for anyone who might be a fellow believer so I might not be alone in this malicious crowd. Yet I see no one. Those who believe or at least followed Jesus are way off in the distance. They are watching with worry and fear. Their teacher, healer, protector: He is dying on the cross.

I am all to aware at this point of the decision I made. The cross isn't surrounded by those who want to help. It is surrounded by those who are eager to attack. I feel alone to this world as I approach the foot of this cross. All eyes are on me. I feel like the crowd is ready to pounce at any time to destroy me as well. And the sight at the foot of the cross is not easy. The man of Jesus. The perfect man of Jesus is bare before me. Wounds are open, gaping, and dripping with blood. This was not my idea of taking my burden to the foot of the cross. I guess I thought I could just launch it with a cannon from a distance where the silhouette of the crucifixion was more like an ornament than a site of destruction. Or maybe I could just airmail my sin to Jesus. But like a boomerang it would have launched itself back to me. It's not until I come face to face with the difficulty to lay myself before the mercy of God. Until I can see the breadth of his love. Until I see the destruction of my life, and the need for that single death, I cannot be free from my burden.

And as tears stream down my cheeks all I want to do is take his place. I am the one who should be there not Him. I am the one deserving of death. But it is futile. Who am I that I think I might save myself. And so my burden is here with me. It's tied up in a canvas bag. To me it feels like the weight of the world dragging it around. I am again faced with a tough step. I have to hurl this bag of mine onto the shoulders of my Jesus. I have to add to load. I have to give one more thing to his pain. Bringing my burdens to the cross is not an easy thing any more. With hesitation I hurl the weight of my burden at the cross. At the person of Jesus. He looks down. I expect to see a new look of pain. A glance that says how could you. But instead I see eyes like love invite me into His death.

Dead to this world, alive in Christ. Being invited to His death is being heir to a resurrection in life. I ready myself to walk again in this world: my burdens gone. Life=easy. But something is different. I have been to the foot of the cross. I know what it is to venture in loneliness to find life. I know the difficulty and seriousness of that walk to see my Christ suffer for me. I know life. What is different--I have a debt to this world. I thought my journey was just for me, but what I realized is that the cross wasn't just to fix me: It was really a call to share the love of God. And now I serve this debt of love to the world around me.

Difficulty Grabbing Onto An Oiled Ice Cube

The stains of my life and my sin on this side of salvation are all too difficult for me to put into a box called grace.  Understanding God's love is just like trying grab onto an oiled ice cube. But with an under-appreciated mercy God grabs my face with the delicacy of a friend and the solitude of life-saving: and whispers the words that still cut to my heart like a spark to pure oxygen--I love you Randy Olive. I sit here with my eyes welling up wishing I had just another word beyond the English tongue to express the necessity for us to dance with uninhibited joy in the courtyard of our fathers love. To be pulled close like a son or a daughter into the chest of an unconditional father. To know that our life is not insignificant. There is more. The hole that collapses in our soul over and over can indeed have love as a geyser. And even now trying to write eloquently to describe the way He loves us is as insignificant as a gnat buzzing in the ear of a king. The awesome thing is that a love that un-understanable is the very thing that drives me to love without limit. The experience of His love is so strange: the explanation of it as a hurricane is perfect. His love sacrifices. So much so that sometimes we fall into what is called his love, but wrenches us to our very being. We can very much be the casualty of His love and never understand the why, but what sweet company--a God who spared nothing would find you or I fit to carry His love even when it hurts. Jesus did. To the cross. I can do nothing but be okay by being floored in desperation for more of what God calls love for me. No matter what. I am just a child in the glimpse of Him: with tiny hand, trying to grasp an oiled ice cube--and He is proud of that. He is proud of our consumed thoughts being poured out over understanding Him. His love. His desire for us.

Before it's real popularity there was a song that gripped my soul. It spoke my angst of understanding God--arguing with Him over the why's, the how's, even my own falls into desire, my own walls that I built in front of him: He is jealous for me. Loves like a hurricane. I am a tree. Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy. When all of a sudden I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory and I realize how beautiful you are and how great your afflictions for me. Oh how he loves us so. Oh how he loves us. How he loves us so.

Realizing God's love for us...how very sweet that is.