Wipe your feet

(Thanks to The High Calling for publishing the following article. It is reprinted with permission. You can read the article here.)


As a boy, my mother routinely reminded us to wipe our feet when we dashed into the house at full speed. She rarely even looked up as we came in. She just knew that brother and I would have dirty shoes.

Mom had good reason for concern. The empty lots and open fields were our playgrounds. And on the way home from our ventures, we walked through every mud puddle.

As an adult, I still clean my shoes before entering my home after a long day at school or work. I don't need my mother to remind me anymore—I get it because I pay for the carpet.

Recently, I've been thinking about the symbolism of removing the dirt from the world before entering my home. For years, I collected bad attitudes and negativity from the work world and brought them home to my young family. They never knew what my mood was going to be.

Silently, hesitantly, they would size me up.

"What kind of day did he have? Can I tell him my problems? Can I share some good news? Will he snap at me for no reason?”

They never knew if I had "wiped my feet" at the door. The darkness of reports, deadlines, and negative personal interactions often clouded my disposition. Job uncertainty, increased expectations, and an emphasis on efficiency over humanity only made my attitude darker.

By the time I got home, this "five o'clock shadow'" darkened my face and my soul. Whether the stubble was a scratchy beard or a scratchy heart, it rubbed my family wrong.

Sure, they wanted me to bring home a paycheck and the security that comes with it. They liked a roof over their heads and food on the table. They enjoyed the middle class comforts of life. But ultimately, they wanted me to bring home joy.

And your family wants the same.

Some job pressures are easy to leave. Just punch the clock and go home. But other work situations can cloud our hearts with the failures and struggles and conflicts. Even when we're off duty, we sometimes carry all that junk with us. Workplace stress is real, but we can't let it steal our joy, determine our moods, or hurt our families.

Leave the dirt of work behind.

(Thanks to Philip Faustin for original inspiration)

The terrible option of me

I must admit, a life without God has a certain appeal. No one to hold me accountable. No one to make me feel guilty. No one to tell me right and wrong.

And you probably feel the same way.

But without God, I must lay my entire destiny to chance. And when I leave things to chance, the odds are usually stacked against me. With these depressing odds, then I am forced to do something, anything, to wrest control from the random chaos that engulfs me.

So, I take the wheel and manipulate my fragile world. I begin to order my existence and to create a trustworthy environment.

Until it all falls apart.

But the question echoes. “Who is man?” Can man stop the hands of time? Can man operate out of the constraints of space? Can man work in ways that actually defy reason?

Maslow’s ultimate goal of self-actualization is the ultimate in selfishness. If I feed this monster, I care for no one else. I despise others. I never think about eternity, because ‘what you see is what you get.’

And then the sadness creeps in. That hollow, ringing sadness that haunts me. It reminds me that I am nothing but a shell -- a figure of my own creation. The ache creeps up from somewhere deep within and screams out, “There is a God, and you are not Him.”

A God-based world doesn’t always make sense. But it certainly beats the Terrible Option of Me.

Weirdos

Like it or not, we are different.


There is a distinct difference between those of the world an those of the way. There is a worldview, a fundamental difference between those who live for themselves and those who live for God.


At least there should be.


When Peter called us aliens, strangers in a strange land, he wasn’t kidding. We have a different perspective on how the world functions. We have a new view of our own nature. We have an eternal outlook that makes us cast long visions and never give up hope.


Ideally. But is this reality?

When we sear the name of Christ on my heart, it changes my level of compassion. It makes us value life and see creation in a different light. Suddenly, men and women and children who enter our lives are no longer burdens – they are people cherished so much by their Creator that they would be the recipients of an amazing gift. We love people just because He does.


But, I am hard on those who don't seem to try on their own.

Blessed are we, when we are mocked and accused and spit upon for His name sake. Blessed are we when we are persecuted and dispised because we are called His own. When we stand tall and call ourselves His Children, we are not ashamed.

But in my actions, I am ashamed?

"God, I am so tired of fitting in. Help me to be a person who follows Your word, who lives your life. Help me be just a little bit weirder today."

Losing your job

The authors of this blog have been blessed to be continuously employed through these tumultuous times. Of course, this could change tomorrow.

But millions have lost their jobs. And millions of others will lose their jobs this year.


Are we ready for this reality?
What if my job is next?

Our fellow High Calling blogger Wayne at From the Factory Floor got laid off this last week. Rather than despair about his situation, his attitude “is the same now as when I first got the job – ‘Trust God’”

Our government will not save us. We cannot trust a political party. We cannot trust a leader. We want the political process to succeed because we want our nation to succeed. But they will not save us.

We cannot hope in the stock market or our retirement plans. We cannot hope in economic stimulus. We cannot hope on the green industry or Detroit or information jobs or government work. We cannot hope in the housing sector or farming.

“ Do not set your hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy.” 1 Tim 6:17

So. There you have it.

Are you unemployed? Where is your hope?

Are you employed? Where is your hope?

We would love to hear what you have to say. Comment here.

Read a commentary here. “No Government Will Save Us”

Disneyland exposed

Disneyland. Perfectly manicured. Well organized. Not a piece of trash. Everyone smiles. It’s a well-oiled machine, perfected over decades. They have a stellar reputation.

But behind the scenes it’s work – hard work. The truth is that each day the destination produces tons of waste in thousands of trash cans. Guests produce 30 tons of trash each day. And there are toilets to scrub, floors to scrub and windows to clean. There are rides to maintain, bolts to tighten and vehicles to fix.

The façade is glitz and glamour and childish wonder, but the gritty reality is far from the magic.

Many people are living a Disneyland existence, with beautiful smiles and well-pressed clothes. They have the words and the smooth exterior. But there is still trash to take out and lose fittings in their lives. It’s not what it seems.

Contrast this with a typical Detroit factory floor. At any given moment, it’s all out in the open. Parts are pulled from shelves, welds are being soldered, and fiberglass pieces dropped into place. It doesn’t quite evoke the Disney love, but it’s clear to see the progress.

In many ways, God is much more of an assembly line kind of Diety. He is more interested in the process than the appearance.

He proved this with the high priest Samuel, who went to the house of Jessie to choose a new king for Israel. He said this, “Do not look at his appearance or at the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.”

So, how about you? Are you spending far too much trying to be like Disneyland, and far too little time trying to be like Ford? Let us know here.

When Doubt is good, part 2

"Doubt"...continued, Read part 1 here

It has been said that the unexamined life is not worth living. I would like to offer another variation of this process: The unquestioned faith is not worth professing.

The Bible suggests that the seeker and even the doubter, is more welcomed by God than the stodgy believer whose faith is rigid and unexamined. Beware the man or woman who claims to have all the answers. Unless they have a glimpse of eternity that is usually not afforded humans, they will certainly be wrong in at least one area. That is why we are encouraged to “work out our faith” and “pursue righteousness.”

Our “walk” of faith is much like John Bunyan’s traveling Christian. He took an entire lifetime to figure it all out and reach his destination.

I remember, as a boy, my father driving in unfamiliar territory in Southern California with our family. He inadvertently entered the freeway -- but he was driving the opposite direction. We all screamed that he had erred. He disregarded our pleas, the signs, and even the oncoming headlights, insisting that his decision was the proper one.

We all survived the journey, and learned a lesson as well. Faith examination forces us to challenge our preconceptions against the truth of God. It is never to late to hang a U and go back.

Doubt causes us to ask “Now where is it I’m going?” The destination is constant, for God does not change.

As Red Letter Believers, our pursuit of defending a set of doctrines will not keep us from living out our faith. And that our faith would have a good, healthy mix of doubt, just to keep us sharp.

May we all learn from introspection. May we all change our lures regularly until we find one that works. May we all catch lots of fish until that day when we dip our feet in the eternal waters on the other side of the Jordan.

What is your personal journey of doubt? Drop us a note here.

Zombies in the rear-view mirror

We all have things in our past that we would rather forget.

The ugly.
The dirty.
The shameful.
The painful.

Things we thought buried, sunken in the earth’s core. Rotting. Decaying. Forgotten.

Then, like zombies rising from the dead, they come back at the oddest of times. An old relationship returns with the barbs ready to pierce. A wound healed begins to ooze again. Words spoken that evoke bitter memories.

They rise from the past. Mumbling, moaning, they step into our living rooms with dirty grave clothes. They desperately want to come back into the land of the living.

There is a stench about these zombies. There is no life in them. And yet, I am strangely drawn. They remind me of another day. They remind of my dreams, now broken. They speak to my hidden hopes. They tease me with aspirations lost.

“Even when we were dead in our trespasses,” says the Apostle Paul in Ephesians 2, we have been “made us alive together with Christ.”

I don’t need the things that represent yesterday. I have been made alive. I have a future. I have tomorrow.

It’s time once and for all to put those zombies in the rear-view mirror.

Thanks to Chris Little sermon, Rescue 911, for inspiration and Marcy Earley for the photo.

Book giveaway: "God is my Coach"

We have five copies of God is my Coach to give away.

All we ask for is that you recommend "Red Letter Believers" to five friends, that you subscribe to RLB in either a reader or by email, and then send us an email.

Easy stuff for a good book.

Giving away your glory

Michael Phelps, the aquatic wonder who took eight gold medals at the Bejing Summer Olympics was photographed smoking marijuana and the photos were published in a British tabloid.

This icon of sports adulated by millions of fans around the world wasn't satisfied with Olympic greatness, fame and fortune. The euphoria wasn't enough. He needed to be just a little higher.

At stake is $100 million in endorsements and his reputation. His infamy is literally gone in smoke.

Contrast that with the story of American sprinter Shawn Crawford who gave up his silver medal to Netherlands Antilles sprinter Churandy Martina, who initially had won the medal but was disqualifed for a lane violation.

As Every Square Inch points out, "he didn't have to do it, no one coerced him, no one would think less of him if he kept the medal." I clutch the things that I have 'earned' with such fervor. I want them. I need them. They are the spoils of victory. And to give them away? But I know I must.

Two Olympians -- two stories of faded glory. Because of one's cocky pride, it was stripped away. Another, out of humility, willingly gave it away.

Who's the better man?

The lesson for all of us is clear. Be careful of fame. Be cautious of glory. Be mindful of pride

"For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world."

It is far better to give away all that you have worked so hard for, rather than be swallowed up in the clutches of destruction.

What's your take on success? How tightly do you clutch your medal? Comment here.

Read the Every Square Inch post on Shawn Crawford here.

A Frayed Faith

"There is a pull toward living and believing the same thing.

There is no room for thinking one thing and then living another."

-- Isaac Slade, of the The Fray, USA Weekend, Feb. 1, 2008

What do you think about those who try to dissect faith from their everyday life? Is it possible to believe one way, and live another?

Leave your comment here.

Also, read about the faith of the members of the band The Fray here.