Every Gift is an Invitation to Know the Giver

 Since before Andrew was born, he has had a blanket.  Andrew’s blanket is a quilt with his name and birth date stitched at one end.  The birth date is wrong.  Andrew was to be born on November 30 by planned C-section.  Even then, he had his own plans.  Linda went into labor on the 28^th and Andrew arrived on the 29^th.  We didn't change the date to remind us that, from the very beginning, Andrew has done things his own way.  Practically every night of his life, Andrew has slept with that blanket.  For years, bedtime couldn't happen without it.  We've sent search parties to find it.  The blanket has always been a part of Andrew’s life, bringing him warmth and comfort and bringing us many good memories. 

When Andrew was a few years old, I returned to Woodruff to officiate the wedding of a young woman who grew up at First Baptist while I was pastor there.  At the reception was the woman who had made the blanket, a beautiful artistic lady named Lottie Caldwell.  I found Andrew, and brought him to her and said, Andrew, here is the lady who made your blanket.

I didn't know whether Andrew would run away or take the shoes off his feet.  But he stood there, looking up into Lottie’s face, listening to me tell the story of how she had made that blanket to welcome him into the world.  I don’t think that he’s ever looked upon that blanket quite the same way since that day, for now he not only knows the gift, he knows the giver of the gift. 

Christians are called to give thanks in all circumstances.  Answering that call begins with giving thanks for every good gift.  Why?  It’s wrong to take good things for granted.  It’s easy to forget how many good things are in our lives.  But there is a much better reason to give thanks for every good thing.  Every good gift is an opportunity to know the Giver, to know God, to know that we are not lucky or fortunate—we are loved by a Heavenly Father.  Knowing Him is the greatest blessing.  Knowing Him is what every good thing in your life and mine invites us to do. 

The love of every good friend is an invitation to know the One who is closer than a brother. Every meal that feeds our body is a time to remember the One who feeds us by His grace every moment of our lives.  Holding a baby in our arms, we can almost hear him say, “I love you like that.  You’re my child.” Give thanks for every gift is an invitation to know and love the Giver.  

This story will be included in a book, The Stories of My Life, that I hope to complete in 2014.  The book will share about 150 of my life experiences that have taught me about knowing, loving, and living for God.  Stay tuned...

Give Thanks Until You Feel It

 I keep a guitar near my desk at all times so that I can practice my own kind of music therapy.  I like to play on days when I feel on top of the world—my song flows out of my joy.  But I need to play on days when I feel down—sometimes your joy has to flow out of your song.  Some days the message and the melody are like a letter from home that reminds you of all of the good things and clears your eyes to see good and see God.  On good days, I play because I feel it.  On bad days, I play until I feel it. 

Giving thanks is like that.  On good days, a Christian can hardly keep from praising God.  Not doing so is like trying to stop the water from coming out of a garden hose with your thumb.  You can hold it for a moment, but then it just has to spew out. 

But on bad days, giving thanks is more like working a pump handle.  There’s no water when you start.  There’s no water for a while.  You give thanks though you don’t yet feel thankful.  But if you keep on giving thanks, taking action in spite of what you may feel, the waters of gratitude and joy will come.  Giving thanks is the action you take, believing that in time your feelings will follow. 

Give thanks because you feel it.

Give thanks until you feel it.

Either way, it is good to give thanks.  

God Can Turn Misery into Ministry

I saw a message from a Facebook friend that troubled me.  The message didn’t give any specifics, but I knew that something bad had happened to Aaron (name changed).  Twenty years ago, he had taken his first full-time ministry position out of seminary at the church I served as pastor.  He was, to me, a little bit like a coworker and a little bit like an adopted child. 

I called him and learned that he had fallen victim to some terrible church politics and his fifteen-year ministry at a church he’d help to grow from the ground up had wrongly come to an end.  Needless to say, hearing about his struggle brought back some memories.  I had often asked God to take away some of those memories, or at least the pain they brought, but now I saw that I had an opportunity to do something far more faithful with what I had endured.  I couldn't remove those experiences from my heart and mind, but I could, in helping my friend, redeem them for God’s glory.  I told him…

I've walked in this valley you’re in and, if you’ll let me, I want to help you get through it.  I want you to know that this journey will be hard, as hard as anything you've ever done, but there is another side.  You can’t see it yet.  You might not believe it exists right now, but I can tell you there is another side and I want to walk with you until you get there. 

We all suffer, but not all of us become faithful stewards of our suffering.  If you and I will place our pain on the altar of service, then we can become a part of a helping healing miracle.  Paul described that miracle when he wrote…

(2 Corinthians 1:3-4) Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.

When you are a faithful steward of your suffering, then God does a miraculous thing:  your greatest hurt becomes your greatest ministry.