More musings on prayer....

This morning, I laid in bed praying for guidance, strength, and wisdom. Guidance to keep me focused at work because end-of-year is coming up, inventory needs to be counted, books need to be closed; strength to resist the temptation to let myself get distracted by the internet and the desire to go to Half Price Books on my lunch hour when I had other, more pressing things that needed to get done (pay bills, return phone calls, etc); and wisdom to make the right decisions all day today.

The bills didn't get paid. Half Price Books has some more of my money (and I have a few more records). Hardly any work got done.

Did God not hear me?

Of course He did.

The problem was I knew in advance I wasn't really serious about what I was praying for. The sad thing is, God is standing right in front of me, saying "Take my hand and let me guide you." And I say, "Thanks, but my way looks a lot more fun."

It's like sinking in quicksand. Someone offers me a rope to grab to pull me out. But I don't feel so deep yet that I can't get myself out. Except that now I am deep in it. The rope is still there, and I'm just stubborn enough not to grab it. The bad thing is, the further I sink, the harder it will be for me if I ever decide to let God pull me out. It's not that He can't do it; He just won't until I finally hold my hand up! The biggest obstacle to God helping me is..... me. How presumptuous of me to expect God to grab me and pull me out if I won't do my part!

Again, too many people claim that prayer doesn't work because God doesn't pass their test. I'm here to tell you right now: God doesn't have time for games. If you're praying, be serious, or don't even bother. This is what I need to learn. Am I really serious when asking for God's help? Or am I just mouthing words?

Once again, I've written myself into another circle and don't know how to properly end this, so I'll just say, keep praying. That's as much for me as anyone else reading this. Not because I think I'll get through to God, but because at some point I hope to learn how to let God in.

Please keep the following in your prayers: continued prayers for the Kaylor family (check his blog for updates on them); prayers for a family at my church who were involved in a pretty serious auto accident (I have no details, so just pray that it isn't as serious as I heard); I know there are others, but these are the ones immediately springing to mind.

In Him and around the corner (and leaving a Light on),

Al

As long as the children are laughing....

Is there any sound more heart-warming than the sound of a child's laughter?

God has blessed me with the gift of making children laugh, and it is probably the most cherished talent He has given me. Nothing brightens my day like hearing the laughter of children, of any age. Our next-door neighbors have a 16-month-old, and when he starts laughing, sometimes there's no stopping him. When he laughs, his whole body laughs with him! I had a chance to visit with another neighbor the other night who has three daughters: one in junior-high, one in 1st grade, and one in kindergarten. While visiting, the 1st-grader was sitting with her dad and the youngest one was carrying around a blanket which she started flapping around. I looked at her and said, in as SERIOUS (haha) voice I could muster, "And you BETTER not touch me with that blanket." Of course, all pandemonium broke loose as I was attacked by the blanket, and both girls were laughing heartily. Later, their dad told me that it had been a while since his girls had laughed that hard! I can't help myself: it's like watching a snowball roll down a hill. Once I get a child laughing at me, it's so enjoyable to keep them giggling with delight!

Almost cathartic, actually. One of my favorite of all of Jesus' teachings is Matthew 18:1-4: "At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

Look at the children: all this week, the only thing on the minds of most (especially our own) was Christmas! How about you? I don't know about y'all, but my heart was cluttered with all sorts of non-Christmas things like work, shopping, schedules, the latest from the Valley Ranch Soap Opera....

It just seems to me that if we really want to appreciate the Advent season, Christmas day, and the rest of the holidays, we need to approach it the same way the children do: with eyes and hearts wide open. Much like the children approached Jesus back then, y'know? The Bible doesn't elaborate on this, but I always imagine children enjoyed being around Jesus, and He with them. In them, He saw hope, unspoiled enthusiasm, carefree spirits, loving hearts... all the things some of us grown-ups lost along the way. If you didn't, congratulations and please tell me how you did it. As for the rest of us, I guess all we need to do is simply go to Him the way the children did: enthusiastically, ready for His call, and hopefully with a smile on our faces.

I hope y'alls Christmas was wonderful. Please keep in your prayers all those for whom there is one less person at the table tonight. Pray that the Lord comforts their hearts this season.

In Him and around the corner (and geeking out over the various gadgets I got for Christmas!), Al

Are you going to let all this beauty go to waste?

(Ten points if you can guess the Christmas special from which the title is stolen!)

Baby, it's cold outside.

Yesterday, we were wearing shorts.

Welcome to Texas!

When the weather gets this warm in December around here, it doesn't look or feel very Christmas-y. Christmas decorations look as though they've been hanging on houses for months because it feels more like May than December. Hearing Christmas music when it's this warm outside feels out-of-place; shouldn't the sounds of summer be playing instead? I've been dreaming of a white Christmas for the past 28 years, or since we stopped going to Chicago every year to visit Gramma at Christmas. Every year I keep hoping, and every year brings no snow. Oh well, this is Arlington after all.

Still, when it gets this warm, everything just looks the same, like any other month, like any other day.

Kinda like the scenario into which Jesus was born, I suppose.

(Really, if we wanted to be COMPLETELY literal (and silly), we should be celebrating Christmas on April 15, since it was tax-time when Mary & Joseph made the journey to Bethlehem to give birth to their little Tax Write-Off. I'm not positive the IRS existed back then, but I know they tend to be retroactive, so you can't be too careful)

This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it. My mom used to sing that to us when we were little. Drove me nuts then, but I appreciate it so much more now, especially when it's this warm and this close to Christmas. It's still beautiful outside. If I'm letting the weather dictate my Christmas mood, then I'm definitely missing something. There are times during the Christmas season, especially when I'm driving home from work, that I wonder if another humdrum day could pass with something enormous, incredible, and spectacular like the birth of Jesus, and I'd miss the beauty of the moment because I was concerned with the humdrum. That seems to be the definition of life lately: the act of focusing on the ordinary at the expense of the extraordinary. Think of all the people who missed out on the birth of Christ because it was just another day to them (and us).

Lord, open my eyes to the beauty of the day, and let not my heart be overtaken by the creeping malaise* of ordinary everyday life.

In Him and around the corner (*and awarding 100 points to anyone who knows what song those two words are from),

Al

A look in the mirror....

I enjoy reading peoples' testimonies about how they came to Christ. In fact, a very interesting one is being told at the aforementioned Jessica Kaylor blog . But it did get me to thinking: what is it like to live without Christ? For some, it's a conscious decision; others may have been raised without ever knowing Him. Having been a Christian my whole life, I can't imagine what that's like, and I wouldn't even know where to begin.

I can't help but wonder if I take that for granted sometimes: knowing that He's always there. In other words, because I was raised Christian and have been going to church all my life, Jesus has been the one constant in my life. In one respect, I'm enormously thankful that I have Jesus in my life, and I didn't have to do anything to get Him. It's as if I've known He's been there all the time.

Still, on the other hand, I find myself letting that comfort turn into complacency, and my faith just becomes a lot of well-studied words from what I saw in the Bible. Do as I say, not necessarily as I do, & all that. In doing so, I become the kind of Christian I loathe: the talker. The Wizard of Oz. Pay no attention to that man behind the UT shirt. Just shut up, listen, and be amazed at my verbal skills and biblical knowledge.

(I'll pause here for a second, in order for you to go hurl if you need to!)

The only time I can think of that would come even remotely close to that "born again" feeling was when my family started attending Advent Lutheran Church in 1986. At the time, I was 16 and, like a lot of teenagers, looking for "God," or something like Him. My church at the time, the church I had been attending for as long as I could remember and in which I was confirmed, had rarely been a spiritually fulfilling experience, and I'd been going to church just because my folks said so. (That said, a brief aside is in order: had it not been for my mom's faith and determination, I would've stopped going to church long before I ever hit my teens. Thanks, Mom. I mean that). Then we started going to Advent, and for the first time in my life I actually wanted to go to church. For the most part, that feeling is still with me. But I know it was God who led my family to Advent.

I'm having trouble ending this, so I'll just finish with this: I'm thankful that I've never known what it's like to live without Jesus. I can't imagine I'll ever know what that feeling is like; I mean, I can't ever see a time when I would consciously turn my back on Christ. And this is not to say I am without my doubts and struggles.

Like I said, I'm having trouble ending this. Which is probably as good a metaphor for my relationship with Christ as anything. I couldn't end it even if I wanted to.

Which I don't.

But, I gotta get to bed because.... well, I have church tomorrow!

In Him and around the corner (and constantly going in circles),
Al

A thought about how prayer allegedly works, or Mr. Owl vs. the Cosmic Pepsi™ Machine

Why is it that when bad things happen after people pray, that the automatic response is "prayer just doesn't work?" Isn't it God's prerogative to say "no"? I always imagined getting into an argument with a Pepsi machine. Can you imagine God talking through a Pepsi machine?

"Hey, gimme a Pepsi."
"No."
"Why not?"
"That's not what you need."
"Who cares about what I need? I want a Pepsi. I put in my fifty cents, now gimme my Pepsi."
"No."
"What, did the price go up? Here, I'll put in another fifty cents. Now gimme a Pepsi."
"No."
"But I need a Pepsi!"
"No you don't, you just want a Pepsi. And I said no!"
"No, I need a Pepsi. If I don't have one, I'll have a horrible headache by day's end."
"You know that's not true. You have headaches because you're stressed out."
"So? What's with you anyway? Why can't you just gimme a Pepsi?"
"Because I know what's best for you."
"Yeah-huh. Sure you do."
"Because I know for a fact that your cholesterol level is at such a dangerous height that one more can of Pepsi buys you a ticket to the ER where the doctors will be attempting to defibrillate your heart into beating again."
"Come on, that's not gonna happen. I've been drinking Pepsi longer than I've been walking. I'll be fine. Gimme a Pepsi."
"No. Have some water instead. It'll clean out your pipes and unclog some arteries."
"Just gimme my Pepsi!"
"No. Why can't you just accept no for an answer and have something else instead?"
"You just don't work, that's what your problem is. You can't give me a Pepsi because you don't work."
"No. I won't give you a Pepsi because I don't want you dead of a heart attack at 38."
"Whatever."

By the same token, I always get uncomfortable when something good happens and it is automatically attributed to the power of prayer. Why can't we just thank God for saying "yes" to our request? By saying that prayer works, what does that say to the person who lost a loved one to cancer, despite their constant prayers for a miracle?

Don't get me wrong: we should pray always and unceasingly, and I'm ashamed to admit that I don't pray nearly as much as I should. But at the same time, credit must be given where credit is due, and the credit for the answer to our prayers ultimately lies with God. Give thanks when He says yes, obviously; it's much harder to do the same when He says no. Unfortunately, God's been saying "no" to a lot of people lately, people to whom I can't imagine Him ever saying "no."

But He does, and what do we do with that? Ultimately, that becomes a great measure of our faith. If we choose to look at God as some kind of cosmic vending machine, we constantly set ourselves up for disappointment. But if we believe that God truly has our best interests at heart, then we can find peace in accepting the "no" as well as rejoicing in the "yes."

Again, the events of the past few weeks have brought that into clearer focus for me. Watching these people of faith carry on with the strength of the Lord as their guide showed me that even though God says "no" to our requests, it's never the end of the world.

In the end, if we can rejoice in God saying "no" as much as we rejoice in Him saying "yes," then we will know true closeness with Him.

Thanks, as always, for reading. Stay warm tonight.

In Him and around the corner (and hoping for some "yes's" of my own),
Al

Death as a new beginning (or what started all this)

If it's true that death is never the end, but only the beginning, then it is death that gave life to this collection of ramblings and musings.


In the span of less than a month, five people that I either knew (or knew of) passed away. Three of those deaths were from cancer. Of those three, one was someone I knew, another was the mother of a boy I've taught Sunday School to, and the third one I never met, but found out I lived right around the corner from her.


The first person was a young man named Casey Chrystie. He was 24 years old when he lost his battle with cancer. His was a life that was not lost. While it's sad that he passed at such a young age, don't think for a second that this was a tragedy. The list of good things that came from his passing could fill up dozens of blogs. Personally, I have never felt closer to God than in the few days leading up to and the day of his death, when so many people would gather at Casey's bedside at Arlington Memorial (about as big a testimony to the number of lives he touched as you'll find). His family was grieving about the inevitable, but not ONCE did they ever appear defeated. Their hope and strength was (and still is) in the Lord. Losing Casey was difficult, and they continue to grieve. But Casey's death was the seed that has sprouted into so many good things: people seeing God clearly for the first time; relationships started and/or strengthened; paths chosen because of Casey's inspiration. I tell y'all this: Casey did more living in his 24 short years then I've done in my 38 (so far), and he has inspired me to get out there and LIVE. Live my faith, not just talk about it (okay, so I'm just talking here on the blog).


The second person was a lady named Gretchen Ryason. Unfortunately for me, I did not know her that well. Her youngest son, on the other hand, has been in our family's life for the better part of the last five years. My daughter taught him at Vacation Bible School when he was three, and I've been his Sunday School teacher since kindergarten (he's in third grade now). I wish I knew them better, but I'm grateful that God has given me the opportunity to be there for him. More importantly, though, was watching Casey's parents, Bruce and Gaylene, during this time, since Casey was in the hospital at the same time as Gretchen. They were always concerned for Gretchen and her family, making sure they visited her and her husband while they were with their son. How inspirational it is to watch this grieving family, reaching out in unselfish Christian love to someone walking the same path as them.


Finally, a lady named Jessica Kaylor passed away a couple days before Halloween. I never knew her, either, or her family. I did know her aunt, Sandy McNutt, who was the principal at Wood Elementary (my son's elementary school), and a more inspiring principal you're not likely to find. She had kept the entire Wood family updated about her niece's condition. Then, when Jessica did pass, it was only then that I learned they lived around the corner from me. That blog, http://jessicakaylor.blogspot.com/, was started to document Jessica's journey and was written by both her and her husband. I've had a couple of opportunities to meet the Kaylors since Jessica's death, and being around them is a true joy. Yes, they're grieving as well, but it is their attitude that is so inspirational (hope I'm not using that word too much). Both times I've had chance to visit with them, they've been all smiles. Especially the girls. I can't even imagine what they're going through, but their dad is showing tremendous, superhuman strength that can only be coming from One place.


My point in all of this is to simply give thanks to God for granting me the opportunity to minister to these folks. The title of this blog comes from how I was signing off on my comments on the Kaylor blog. One thing I've noticed in my own faith is how incongruous everything seems to be, and yet it seems like that's how it should be: things shouldn't make sense. It shouldn't make sense that three deaths would cause so much hope and joy. It shouldn't make sense that God came down from Heaven to give His life for me. It shouldn't make sense that the lineage of Jesus contains some of the most vicious loathsome characters in history... and those are the good guys!


But it does. Thank God for that.