Most Saturday nights I’ll text most of our team to see if they’re prepared for Sunday and ask if I can do anything to help them out.
I also enjoy having fun with them, so sometimes I’ll make vague references to cheesy love songs from the 80’s and 90’s.
Tonight’s question was:
“Have I told you lately that I love you?” Then… I waited for their response.
After their response which was mostly something like “Yeah, man”, I shared this video with them.
I love my team, really I do, but this was just funny.
There is a funny looking bush that grows in the red clay forests of Georgia and Alabama. Literally, it looks like overnight someone to a pine tree and buried it, leaving only a small stem poking out of the ground. I feel like this furry little bush a lot. A small spectacle amidst a towering chorus of achievement. A bit out of place. Or small. See, though its appearance is of a shrubbery, its merely a small tree. A small “long-needle” pine tree to be exact.
God teaches us a lot about personal growth in this tree. For its formative years, the tree injects its efforts into growing downward in a series of what are called tap roots. There is no growth apparent to the onlooker. Really, it looks like a nice feather duster. Something to for young boys to yank up and beat each other with. I think roots are important to God. I think this awkward little bush shows a way.
I think there are two directions that roots grow. It’s true in trees; in trees, roots grow along the relief of the ground or down deep into the soil. For us, I think our roots grow either into God or into ourselves. I suppose this is not “stop the press” material, but today it became important to me.
I saw, in a brief moment, that there is a lot of hurt inflicted in this broken world. I’m in line with the murderers and thieves, because I, too, at times have led a life that bent in such a way that those who were wrapped up in me were hurt because of my declination. The root of it, in the end, was selfishness.
I think there is no end viler than selfishness and nothing more difficult to balance within the will than the self. Really, no man really cheats on his wife because he desires another woman. A man enters an adulterous affair because he values himself more than his wife. In the end, a woman laundering money a work doesn’t do so because she is desperately poor, but, instead, because she finds herself to be worthy of the money than the institution that earned it.
As a believer, I think there is nothing more difficult to balance upon the will of God than the self. Practically, when you read this you may wonder “What in the WORLD is this guy talking about?” Well, this comes more from practical experience than direct teaching. In the book of Acts, which I think is the definitive discourse (narratively speaking) on human interaction with the will of God, you find a very excited guy named Paul. At times it appears that Paul is in direct control of where he is going (examples: Mars Hill, Ephesus) and then there are times that the Holy Spirit is directly involved in his decisions on where to go (forbiddance to go into Asia).
Here’s the practical problem: We, as believers, want to follow Jesus with all of our hearts (hearing his voice and responding). And we, as believers and seekers of God, have dreams that resonate in our souls (chasing the desires of our heart that we believe Jesus placed there). Sometimes, it’s very muddy where following Jesus and following dreams intersect. Anyone who tells you different is a liar.
For example – suppose a young woman has a dream of becoming a singer. This is a dream she feels very passionately that the Lord placed in her heart. However, she is working as a teacher and has a real chance to touch the lives of the kids in her class. Baring direct communication from God, she is left with a muddy choice. Where does the desire to fulfill the personal (or selfish) desires fit in?
I suppose I’m wading in the mud between the places that God and my will are coming together in my life.
In 1955, the late AW Tozer wrote a series of articles that were published as a volume under the title “The Root of the Righteous”. In his, he says of righteousness “many Christians want to enjoy the thrill of feeling right but are not willing to endure the inconvenience of being right”.
I love the biblical concept of righteousness. Literally, the Greek term means to be right in the eyes of God. Westerners, like us, interpret “right” with behavioral specifics. The term correctly applied does not mean that. The term literally refers to being the right person. The concept is the same as a coach that has trained a quarterback for a specific purpose. They have practiced many hours together and put much work into developing the player. The coach, sitting on the sideline, watches to athlete execute perfectly in a game and recognizes that he is the “right” quarterback. Basically, being righteous means being the person that God created you to be.
Being righteous is all about roots. If we, like that awkward little shrubbery, spend time developing roots that sink deep into the truth of God’s revelation to man, personally through the revelation of his Son, then we are indeed developing roots of righteousness.
However, if we are constantly thinking of ourselves, our image, our benefit, where we fit in, what we get out of it, then we are growing roots of selfishness. The only way to face the mud of the intersection of our will and God’s will is with a bridge of righteousness.
Seeking God’s face about who we are and who we were created to be is important. It’s paramount, actually. Nothing in life is more important. Once that concept has been fully developed, then, and only then, can one safely wade in the mud.
My wife and I were perusing the items on the eBay site last night when I thought it might be nice to recover some nostalgia from my elementary school days. Yes. I have found two items that have escaped mainstream media attention as far as being meaningful to the 80s. These items were of GREAT importance to me, personally, though.
Here you go. First item:
The above picture features something that we must call nothing but what the tag so boisterously screams: “JAMS”. These were the shorts that I fell in love with in the 80s. You were not cool unless you had a pair of JAMS for every day of the week. I didn’t grow up in such an affluent family to afford the “original” jams. My mother, the wonder woman of all, would take me to a fabric store and allow me to choose a couple patterns of bright material. She would then take the material and craft a very good facsimile of the “original” jams. I did, later on, come to own my own stock of “original” JAMS. I remember one pair with fondness: they hung mid-calf (much like a good pair of capri pants). The pattern screamed intellectual giant: red and white checkerboard. Yes. You could have played tournament style board games on my pants.
Ok. Now to the second item. Real class awaits:
The said item above is a classic. Largely undiscovered. I remember it vividly though. The “coke” rugby shirt. Nothing like it. I mean, the look on the models face above speaks for itself. True happiness trapped inside cotton and nylon.
Now… A Reflection:
I remember now, and I guess part of the experience of growing up is that you learn such lessons, how badly these items seemed to be important to me. I wanted them like I wanted air to breathe. My parents, who didn’t at the time have a lot of money, ended up sacrificing to get me them (or make copies of them). Now, they just look like silly reminders of a time gone by.
You know, I rode the bus to school as a kid. I don’t suppose I’ve really talked about this as an adult, but the bus rides were traumatic. My family chose to spend money where they should, to buy a house and cars rather than nice clothes for their kids, so I ended up being dressed a little different than other kids. I remember very vividly being made fun of by kids over the two items listed above. I remember how I felt like nothing because I didn’t have them, that fragile 10-year-old ego crumbling under the weight of peer leveled scrutiny. I remember that. It hurt. It doesn’t hurt anymore.
I suppose it took me a long time to learn the lessons that God was offering me then. It would have been easier to learn them then, but I didn’t. I resented. I ran. I hid, at times. I suppose the biggest lesson is love who you are and believe in who you are.
God made you. You are enough. It’s pretty simple.
God loves you. We should love that which God loves. We should love ourselves.
It’s pretty simple.
It took me a LONG time, but I started getting it. I don’t know if I really have it now or maybe I’ve just started the journey.
I do know this – if I’m glad I’m not traveling on this journey (or just in an airplane) right now wearing a nice pair of “original” JAMS and a “coke” shirt.
Hopefully, God will continue to show me things that are as fleeting in importance like iPods, Rainbow Sandles, and even MySpace? — who knows?