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Mondays are my Sabbath. Needless to say, I look forward to Mondays while most others look for reasons to avoid them.  But today’s Sabbath was especially special.  It just so happens that this day of Sabbath intersected with the day my wife was born 39 years ago.  She doesn’t mind me telling you her age because she’s younger than me (barely), and that’s all that matters to her.

So, because it was Jenn’s birthday, we celebrated.  I had every intention to serve her breakfast in bed, but she always gets up before me.  Go figure.  Knowing that, I left her birthday card in front of the coffee pot the night before so she would be assured that she was on my mind even before I got up.  She was sung to by the kids and me, with not so perfect harmony; she and I ate lunch together, went to the mall (including Kirkland’s and Bath and Body Works–it was her birthday, you know); Kristen baked her first cake for her mom; we celebrated at P.F. Chang’s in both Chinese and English . . .ok, maybe not Chinese.  And finally we came home, ate cake, drank coffee and finished in style with watching 24.  Today was a celebration . . .and it was restful.

Now that the day is drawing to a close, here’s what I’ve learned:  Sabbath is about rest, and I found that significant rest is found in celebrating life, especially the life of someone you deeply love.

It’s not uncommon for me to hear my daughter tell me, “Dad, you’re weird.”  And she may be right.  I have my quirks that probably are weird to her, and to others I’m sure.  But the other day, while taking Kris to school, I glanced over to see her with her mouth wide open (and not saying a word . . . which really is weird), and putting on mascara.  All I could do was laugh.

“Kris, why do you open your mouth to put on mascara?”  It was her reply that dumbfounded me:  ”That’s how you put on mascara.”  Really?  Is there a course you take to learn how to hold you mouth correctly, or is it just instinctual?  So, it made me wonder:  when she’s tying her shoes, does she close her eyes?  When she’s putting on lipstick, does she pinch her nose? And what about when she brushes her teeth, does she rub her tummy?  Seriously.  And I’m weird?

I’ve been a student pastor, and am a parent of a teenager. Now that all has been heard (and seen), here is the conclusion of the matter:  whenever a teenager tells you that you’re weird, take heart, you are normal.

I’m not a fan of opossums.  They are overgrown rats with a bad toupee.

They’re habitual liars.  They have no sense of time.  They love the night life . . . they like to boogie . . . in my backyard at night . . .yeah (adapted from a cheesy 70’s song).

It was 2:30 in the morning when the opossum showed up in my backyard, and apparently he had an attitude to go along with his bad toupee.  To my knowledge, I was sleeping soundly when my dogs began barking and growling as if they were entangled in a death match with an intruder.  It was one of those moments when you are in deep sleep, and something so loud breaks the silence that you sit up with eyes wide open, but not really awake.  I reached for my glasses, but decided not to get my gun and one bullet (Barney Fife is my mentor), until I assessed the situation.

After slowly walking through the kitchen, I turned on our porchlight and peered out the window of our backdoor.  And there was the opossum, surrounded by my two dogs–Coco and Smokey.  Vicious sounding, I know (come to think of it, I think Captain and Tennille’s original stage names were Coco and Smokey). Nonetheless, the dogs wouldn’t relent, and neither would the opossum.  He was obviously beyond the point of playing dead.

I did what any dog-owner would do at 2:30 in the morning–yelled at the dogs with my inside voice.  I don’t know if you’ve ever tried that in a similiar situation, but it doesn’t work.  So, I took drastic measures.  I found a grapefruit.  You see, my thought process was that if I could throw it at the opossum, it would scare him enough to cause him to run, and my dogs to think that playtime was over.  That was, of course, if the opossum didn’t like grapefruit.  If he had been a grapefruit lover, I would have had to break out the grapes; and you just can’t scare a opossum with grapes (according to Wikipedia).

So, picked up the grapefruit, and it was oily . . . because it was rotten.  After opening the door, I stepped out onto the back porch, rared back, and let the grapefruit . . . slip right out of my grip.  The next thing I knew it hit the fence, far from the opossum; but the sound was so loud that it scared the opossum, the dogs, and even me.  Porch lights suddenly came on at every house that surrounded ours, and I wasn’t appropriately dressed for the occasion.

But, the opossum left, and I got rid of a rotten grapefruit–two things that desperately needed to go.

You may be wondering what the point of the story is, and honestly there isnt’ one.  I’m just not a fan of opossums . . . or rotten grapefruit.

Earlier this week, my time of extended “renewal,” or as I like to call it, sabbatical, came to an end.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that I’ve ceased resting or observing Sabbath rest, but the time for me to be away has come to a close.  And guess who was waiting for me when I returned?  Satan.  The weird thing is that he had a smirk on his face, as if he was up to something.  And he was.  And he is.

Apparently he’s looking for a fight, and he’s been working non-stop preparing, planning, scheming, how he will attack.  He never rests.  It reminds me of a cliche that I’ve heard many church-going, yet clueless, people use (God love them) throughout my ministry years in reference to resting:  “The devil doesn’t take a vacation, why should you?” I’ve thought about that over the years, and have come up with some decent one-line responses, such as: “Because I don’t want to end up like YOU.” Or, “Because my aim in life is to NOT be like the devil.” Or, just a simple thought of, “Idiot.” The last one, I’m almost sure, isn’t Christ-like, but I’m just being honest.  “You brood of vipers” just didn’t seem to fit.

But probably the best answer, the Scriptural answer, is that I choose to rest because God commands it, and at the same time, invites me into it.  I’ve found that to keep that command, even on the Sabbath, is a fight.  There isn’t a doubt in my mind that Satan cringes when we observe Sabbath rest, simply because he detests obedient followers of Jesus.  I’m sure he’s aware that a Christ-follower who experiences the true rest of Jesus is one who develops a new way of thinking; which creates a new perspective regardless of his or her circumstances; who is much more refreshed, and therefore much more aware of God’s activity and Satan’s tactics.  Satan hates the Sabbath.

Think about it this way:  if the enemy can convince you that your busyness is more important, more necessary, more profitable than Sabbath rest, you open yourself up to the fallible thought that your way of living life is better than God’s way.  To ignore Sabbath rest is the catalyst of forgetting God.  And forgetting God is a dangerous thing.

That’s why you must fight for rest.  You must guard diligently against letting others, as well-intended as they may be, from stealing your time of rest with God; guard your schedule; guard your family time; guard your time in His Word; guard your play time.  There’s always going to be one more item on your list.  There’s always going to be one more load of laundry to wash.  There’s always going to be one more visit you need to make.  You do what you can, when you can, but guard Sabbath rest.  Even Jesus left those who were in need of healing, desiring His presence at their dinner party, wanting counseling, so that He might rest.

I wonder . . .what if Jesus had not taken time to rest?  In His humanity, surely it would’ve affected Him.  The truth is we’re not sure what would have happened.  So, I’ll not assume much more.  But what we do know is this:  He left the many to rest in the presence of the ONE He called “Abba.” Although there is fighting for the rest, there is no fighting in His rest.

So, crawl up in His lap.  I’ve found that His lap is big enough for you to take a nap; take a walk; read His Word; read a wholesome book; talk to Him; be playful; worship Him.  But in all things, rest.

So, as I was saying . . . we don’t rest.  It cuts against the grain of our culture.  To many people, to slow down is like fingernails on a chalkboard.  Even though our intentions to slow down are good, and our deep desire may be to get out of the fast lane, we typically don’t.  Our constant going is a lot like what I experienced with my son a few years ago.  

We were inside the house, and I was doing something.  Not sure what . . .probably resting (writer’s embellishment).  And in front of me I noticed my youngest son, in the living room, running in circles.  That was it.  Just running in circles.  He wasn’t making airplane noises, or tornado-like noises.  He was just running in circles, and not slowly either.  So after about a minute of watching him, I asked him, “Kam, what are you doing?”  His response, “I’m running in circles.”  

You think?  

“So, buddy, do you need to go to the bathroom?”  

“Nope.”

“O.k., so why are you running in circles?”

“I don’t know.”  

We run way too many circles in this life, and we don’t really know why.  To be still is not an option, so we run . . . in circles.  And we never go anywhere except to a place called “exhaustion,” “burnout,” “weariness.”

But we have excuses.  ”I don’t have time to slow down.”  ”If I slow down, I’ll get behind.”  ”I don’t want to be lazy.”  ”I’ve got too much to do.”  Even in our “leisure time,” we don’t rest.  Maybe you’re like me when it comes to vacations.  After them, I need one.  In our “leisure time” we run ourselves so ragged that it becomes exhausting.  And we go back to work, or school, and we find ourselves empty, depleted, tired and in need of rest.  Mark Buchanan puts it very succinctly in his book The Rest of God, “Leisure is what Sabbath becomes when we no longer know how to sanctify time.  Leisure is Sabbath bereft of the sacred.”  

Sacred?  Rest is supposed to be sacred?  As I have recently learned, absolutely.  To Sabbath rest is of God. God is sacred.  So, there you go.  But how do we get there?  

Good question.  And the answer is found right in Scripture from the very lips of the One who is called Lord, Ruler, Expert, the Guy who knows what it’s all about, of the Sabbath.  

“‘Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.’  At that time, Jesus went through the grainfields on the Sabbath.  His disciples were hungry, and they began to pluck heads of grain and to eat.  But when the Pharisees saw it, they said to Him, ‘Look, your disciples are doing what is not lawful to do on the Sabbath.’  He said to them, ‘Have you not read what David did when he was hungry, and those who were with him:  how he entered the house of God and ate the bread of the Presence, which it was not lawful for him to eat nor for those who were with him, but only for the priests?   . . . I tell you, something greater than the temple is here . . .For the Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath.’”  

Lengthy text I know, but within that text is where the answer is found.  Sabbath rest is simply entering into the presence of God and feasting on His presence.  Just as the disciples were hungry, and David’s men were hungry and exhausted after fleeing from Saul, we, too, find ourselves soul-hungry, depleted, exhausted, and in need of rest.  

We find it in daily meeting with God, entering into His presence, to taste the sweet intimacy of Christ.  It’s in those moments that we find a respite from the weariness of life.  And it should stir within us a longing for Sabbath; an extended period of “furious rest,” as Louie Giglio would say, and feasting on Christ.  

Much more to come.  In the meantime . . . enter and feast.

I’ve been described in many ways by a lot of people in my life. But perhaps the most unique description has been the comparison of my life to that of an “Electric Chihuahua on caffeine pills.” Very creative, and probably not far from the truth (although I’ve never seen such a messed up dog).

One thing that I’ve had to admit, as God has revealed to me the truth about me, is that I’ve completely ignored His command to observe Sabbath. Now, I know that some of you may be thinking, “How can you ignore Sabbath when you’re a pastor, and still keep your job?” That’s really a deeper question than you may realize.

Sabbath is more than going to church; so much more. It’s simply resting. For some, going to church is just the opposite of that. There’s not much rest in fulfilling the duty of going to church. It’s hard work enduring a sermon. It’s not easy giving up an hour or two a week for God. On the other hand, some rest so much at church that they find the pew or chairs great for napping. Both examples, I think, miss the point.

In reading a great book by Mark Buchanan called, The Rest of God, I discovered that God elaborated more on His command for Sabbath than any other of the 10 Commandments. Not only is it recorded in Exodus 20:8-11, and 31:12-17, but also in Deuteronomy 5. God takes rest seriously, and He commands us to do the same. But we don’t.

. . .more to come tomorrow

This week I’ve had the pleasure of meeting a lovely couple who are here the month of August as host and hostess for one of the hotel-like accommodations at Glorieta. From the moment I arrived, their hospitality has been refreshing, to say the least. As a matter of fact, after only talking with them but a couple of hours, they made this statement: “This week, we will be your parents.” What they were saying to me is not that they were instituting a curfew, or would make sure that I washed behind my ears before venturing out to dinner. No, they were offering listening ears, warm smiles, words of encouragement, and embracing hugs that might even rival that of the prodigal’s father.

It’s amazing, but not surprising, how God knows just the right people you need in your life, at any given moment, to bring exactly what is needed; even if it is through those you’ve never known.

Paul felt the same way about Philemon, and expressed his words this way . . . “For I have derived much joy and comfort from your love, my brother, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you.” Philemon 7

So, this week I have taken in the fragrance of Christ, and His aroma has soothed my weary soul; I’ve tasted Christ, and He has left me both satisfied, yet thirsting for more; I have seen Christ, beheld His glory, and wonder who am I that He would be mindful of me; I have touched Christ, and His embrace has been reassuring; I have heard Christ, and His words have been honey on my lips. I have been refreshed.

God, may the aroma of my life be CHRIST; may I lead others to feast from your table, and taste YOU; may others see CHRIST in me and behold HIS glory; may I be YOUR hands that others might experience the embrace of JESUS; may the words of my lips, and the meditations of my heart be of YOU, so that others may hear you and know TRUTH; and may others be REFRESHED.

As I entered the prayer garden this morning, I was greeted with the fragrant aroma of some incredibly beautiful flowers. Because I’m not a botanist I can’t tell you their name; I’m sure it’s something Latin, like lookatus smellofus.

Nonetheless, my ignorance of their kind didn’t prevent me from recognizing their splendor, and how each flower seemed to reach to heaven with petals open wide, soaking in the radiance of their Creator. That, in and of itself, spoke deeply to me. The flowers declare the glory of God Almighty; they are clothed in the majesty of His creative genius, and without fail display His unmatched greatness. How much more should my life make such a loud declaration of His worthiness?

This Scripture came to mind . . .“But thanks be to God who always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of Him everywhere. For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing, to one a fragrance from death to death, to the other a fragrance from life to life. Who is sufficient for these things? For we are not, like so many peddlers of God’s word, but as men of sincerity, as commissioned by God, in the sight of God we speak in Christ.” 2 Corinthians 2:14-17

Even though none of us is sufficient, competent, capable, worthy of declaring the wonder of such a Glorious King, we have been created, even commissioned by God, not to be just peddlers of the Word, but sincere in what we speak in Christ. And perhaps that is the essence of this passage . . . the aroma of our fragrance is proportional to the sincerity of our life.

I don’t know about you, but the question that resonates within my heart is, “God, is the fragrance of my life pleasing to you, and does it spread the knowledge of you everywhere? Does it saturate the very places I leave footprints?”

May our lives be fragrant with the aroma of Christ; pleasing to God, soothing to those being saved, and inviting to those who desperately need the life-giving fragrance of Jesus.

This morning I spent some time in the prayer garden. There really is something special about this place. It’s nothing mystical, or odd like the trees of Oz that talk to you or throw apples at you. There is a sense of presence here; very serene and peaceful.

As God and I were conversing, and I began journaling what God was bringing to mind, I hear this: “Hey, Hey! . . . I’m just up here workin’ . . .” and the conversation went on, and on, and on. I thought about throwing a rock at the guy, but that wouldn’t have been Christ-like, so I decided to throw my Bible instead. This guy apparently had no clue as to how distracting his cell-phone conversation was. And what made it even more distracting was that this guy was talking LOUDLY! Are you kidding me?

A couple of thoughts were running through my mind as I was journaling . . .I know God communicates to us in different ways, but I’m not certain it’s through a cell phone in a quiet prayer garden. And, if by chance He does, I’m certain He is not deaf that we should speak so LOUDLY!

The other thought . . .I’m a lot like the guy with the cell phone. Too many times I am easily distracted in moments when God really desires to speak to me, and I end up leaving an opportune environment and moment having heard nothing from the lips of God because my heart, and mind, and ears were distracted by the unimportant. It’s in those moments that our true affections are exposed, and what is laid bare looks a lot like what happened in the garden of Eden. Misplaced affections lead to missed moments, and misguided decisions. It is crucial that we guard our hearts and minds and ears from the distractions that cause us to miss eternally significant words from eternally divine lips.

“Be still and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10

It’s hard to believe, I know, but Jesus didn’t have Twitter. If, perhaps, you are Twitter-deficient, like myself, let me explain. This tech-tool, basically, allows you to let your friends, or anyone else for that matter, know where you are and what you are doing at all times if you so choose to tell them via Twitter.

For those who have Twitter, happy twittering. But don’t be surprised when people show up at your table on date night with your spouse because you went to the bathroom to Twitter about it. “Sure, Bob, pull up a chair. Honey, you remember Bob don’t you?”

Personally, I don’t want Twitter. I spend too much time, as it is, trying to get away from people. Sometimes you just want to go where everybody doesn’t know your name, and they’re not always glad you came. I want to be where people don’t see that my troubles are the same. I just want to go where everyone doesn’t know my name. (My appreciation to the fine folks who wrote the theme song for “Cheers,” which inspired this adapted version in the previous paragraph)

Seriously though, I do think it is important for us to disengage at times. In our overly-connected world, it seems the paradox is that we tend to be too connected, but not connected enough. In other words, we long for connection with other people, but we miss connecting with God in those intimate, and quiet moments. Perhaps the best role model is Jesus Himself.  The Scriptures say that Jesus withdrew. He left the crowds. He disconnected so that He could connect with His Father.  And if Jesus needed those times, even longed for those moments, then we should do the same.

So my challenge to us all who have a hard time disconnecting from the tyranny of the tech world, be twitter-less and know that He is God. Read the rest of this entry »