Thinking Out Loud

I've been reading the book Thinking Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman. Mr. Kahneman describes our decision making as 2 systems - system 1 and system 2. It's a helpful metaphor. Oversimplifying, System 1 would be things like intuition, feelings, and instinct. System 2 is conscious thought, reasoning, and calculations.

I realize that I live most of my life in system 2. Something about system 1 is broken. Or maybe the connections between the two systems are broken. I don't really understand the mechanics.

For example, what comes to mind when you see the word peace? Now that you're back from your happy place, how were you feeling? Did you have an emotional reaction of peace?

In my brain, peace is not a feeling. It is the absence of chaos. It's nothingness. But that's not really what peace is, is it? I don't have a peaceful life. I have an empty life. Empty of the noise. System 1 doesn't register peace like it should.

Because of stuff like that, I go into all human interactions using system 2. Ponder that for a second. My brain thinks, calculates, reasons about every human interaction. That makes them very tiring, difficult. Worse, relationships are too complicated for system 2. People are too complicated. There are no rules that express their complexity. So I don't feel connected.

I apply some simple rules that get me through the day. It isn't a lack of caring. It isn't a dislike or desire to be alone. To me, this is normal.

Now having said all of that, I know that peace is more than the absence of chaos. I've felt peace, solely through God's grace. It came in a few brief moments when I needed Him the most. But without His constant presence, I don't feel peace. And that messes with my head. It gives a foot hold to doubt - is something wrong with me? Am I not doing enough, being enough?

The answer is no. God loves me, broken as I am. Someone once told me that I was very personable. They're right. I learned some easy rules for smooth interactions. But I have a an almost impossible time bridging that gap into something deeper - even with people I know and trust, it's still unsettling to interact.

In those moments of peace, God assures me that He loves me. Even though I can't feel it, I remember. And one day, when He walks with us again, His strength will be enough to overcome the noise and static in my brain. One day, I'll feel a whole range of emotions, just like He does. A life I've never known.

Those brief moments (I can count them on one hand) are hope. They are the promise of my future. He reaches us all in different ways. He knows our deepest longings. And He promises to fulfill them. This is what makes God personal. A person, who wants a relationship with me, with you. And that's the hope - He's personal. Jesus is the one who makes this relationship possible. He stands in the gap - speaking the words I don't have. Watching. Guiding. Holding. Asking - before I know to ask. Jesus is why God can come to me.

Plus Love

Can we revisit the discussion about obedience and compliance? I missed something important. The difference between obedience and compliance is love. In math terms (yes, I'm a nerd), Obedience = Compliance + Love.

This little revelation made me wonder about the other fruits of the spirit - joy, peace, faith, kindness. In 1 Corinthians 13, Paul says ...but do not have love, then I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. Imagine a loud, obnoxious noise. Cymbals are great - as part of an orchestra. But you don't find many solos. You can comply, not fight, smile a lot, and even hold the door for people. Without love, those acts have no meaning, no substance.

The cymbals enhance an orchestra. They bring something extra to the piece, at just the right moment, as part of a larger whole. Love is that whole. The acts, the things that you do, are crashing cymbals. As part of a symphony, they enhance and bring out the music that is there behind them. By themselves, well, it makes a noise and goes away.

Jesus always focused on our relationship with God. His death, His teaching, His life all centered on His and our relationship. Obedience isn't just doing what's asked - following the rules. It's doing what isn't asked. It's knowing another person so well that you can anticipate their wants and needs, and doing those even before they know it. Do you get that reading a rule book?

Rules are important. They are the starting point of a relationship. Rules set boundaries. And when you're starting a relationship, the rules provides points of discussion. As you bump into the boundaries, you get to know the other person and they get to know you. You work together adjusting boundaries, opening fences, and becoming of one mind.

We've talked before about thinking in pictures. I picture structures. When I learn your rules, I learn about you. As I picture the structure, I can feel like I know you more. The same is true of my relationship with God. He gave me rules in the Bible. And as I talk to Him about them, He teaches me new things about Himself. See, when I love Him, I look at Him, not the rules. The rules become a means to an end.

The author of Hebrews talks about faith - the faith of Abraham, Jacob. Moses, Sarah. Faith = Belief + Love. You can believe in God intellectually. But until you love Him, it's not faith. In Matthew 7, Jesus says not everyone who calls me Lord, Lord will enter the kingdom of heaven. How do you turn knowledge into faith? How do you add love to belief? I don't know.

For me, it took an example of love from people who aren't believers to understand God's love for me. That's the thing - we're all different. And God knows You in a way that is more personal than any human being can ever know You. What He promises is that if You look, He will be there. God doesn't hide Himself, playing hard to get. It just takes a lot for us to look past our own fears, our own wants, our own selves. We spend so much effort trying to be the center, that we instinctively pull away from Him as our center. This is the deepest feeling in human beings. The one thing that motivates all of the destructive and evil things we hate about ourselves. The real question is, where do you go from here?

The Nature of Things

So today's sermon at church came from Matthew 7:15-20. Batman (in Batman Begins) paraphrased this passage nicely when he said it's not who I am underneath, but what I do that defines me. Jesus used fruit, speaking to an agricultural audience. Same idea. What you do is a reflection of who you are.

So this is how these things go in my brain - something starts me down a path, such as thinking about our innate nature. And a few things happen that strengthen the idea. Then out of nowhere, it's front and center. I want to say that this train of thought started with some remarks by a radio DJ. And today was God re-emphasizing its importance.

God wants our obedience. Not so that we'll do what He says. But because the things that He asks us to do are good. When an artist paints, they put a bit of themselves into the painting. The paints, the canvas, none of that has any meaning or value. The person behind it, the painter who opened a bit of their heart, that gives a painting value.

Back to the fruit analogy. Jesus talked about good trees producing good fruit - you know, crunchy apples, juicy peaches. The kind of stuff you eat, enjoy, and it gives you energy to go do something else in return. The kind of fruit that has more of an impact than the space it occupies.

Why? Because that's its nature. When Jesus talks about our relationship with God, He always refers to our character, not our actions - "love me", "I and the Father are one", "if you love me, then you will obey", "believe". There was nothing magical or mystical about the animal sacrifices. God was teaching us about our relationship with Him. A broken relationship. They had to keep doing the sacrifices because they kept sinning.

The law only shows us what we can't do. God looks at what we can do. He sees you as the person He created you to be. A reflection of His glory. Majestic. Powerful. Good. And everything He has done, all of the trials in life, all of the crazy history of the church, was all about transforming you into the person He knows You to be. To change your nature.

Jesus wasn't telling the people to follow the rules. He was telling them that the rules aren't thing that matters. Who you are, the person you become, matters. And this is why Jesus Himself says that He came to save sinners. He knows perfectly well that I won't stop sinning just because. But He does know that one day, when it's all said and done, when He finally gathers everyone God placed in His care, the work will be done. And what God has started will finish.

When God can once again walk among us. And we reflect His nature. Then, and only then, can we live the life He has always seen for us. When our nature becomes like His nature. And who we are, what we do, will be who He is. That's my hope.

Running water

Revelation 3:15-17 paints a picture of stagnant water - warm, yucky, bad water.

¹⁵ ‘I know your deeds, that you are neither cold (invigorating, refreshing) nor hot (healing, therapeutic); I wish that you were cold or hot. ¹⁶ So because you are lukewarm (spiritually useless), and neither hot nor cold, I will vomit you out of My mouth [rejecting you with disgust]. 

I was thinking about change. Imagine your life as a running stream. The water in the stream today is not the same water that was there yesterday. It's always new, always fresh - clear, cold, and invigorating. Now compare that with a puddle, a pool, that's been sitting still for months - full of algae, rank, green. Both bodies of water changed. In the running stream, change brings life. Life for the water and for those touched by the water. In the standing pool, change means death. The stream changes for good. The pool, well, not so good.

Change is inevitable. I once read that relationships are always changing. Know why? Because people are always changing. Just like the water, you are always changing. The only control you have comes from choosing to be the pool or the stream. Will the change be good, or bad?

You may have heard the old saying people never change. It's actually true. I can hear the quizzical look on your face. I just said people are always changing and that they never change. It's perfectly true, people never change. They are changed. On my own, under my control, I cannot change. But I can be changed. The water in the stream doesn't change itself. Gravity and pressure make the water flow. Some force outside of the water changes it. Left on its own, the water becomes a pool.

Why am I writing this? Because one of the biggest ways we change is through obedience. Remember the last letter talked about compliance and obedience? Rules can only tell you what you've done wrong. Think about the driver's manual, when it discusses the right of way. The law never gives one vehicle or person the right of way. The motor vehicle laws only tell you who has to give up the right of way. Rules never make anything you do right. They can only make some of the things you do wrong.

That's why compliance fails. Compliance gives power to the rules. Obedience gives power to a person - especially when that person is God. God gave us rules for the sole purpose of showing us that we can't keep them. Not to frustrate us, but to drive us to Him. Jesus says "I didn't come to abolish the law, I came to fulfill it." Obedience over compliance. When we obey, there is no need for rules.

One day, you will find someone to marry. You will stand in front of a whole lot of people and repeat words like love, honor, and obey (or submit if you're more modern). I want you to understand that promise. I don't care about chores. I care about you. I care about all of the lives you will touch. And I want you to be cold, refreshing water. Leaving strength and life everywhere you go. This is only the beginning.

To obey or not?

I want to talk to you about the chores. Yes, again - I see you rolling those eyes, missy :)

In all seriousness, though, I do want to talk. We have three rules - put things where they belong, open the blinds, and empty the trash when the lid doesn't close anymore. The truth is, those rules are arbitrary. The rules themselves are, well, minor and unimportant in the grand scheme of things. What is important is obedience.

Rhetorical question - what's the difference between compliance and obedience? Think about that for just a minute. I'll wait. La-la-la-ta-da-la-ta-da. Okay, this is what I think...

Compliance is the act of doing what is requested. Obedience is giving the other person something that they desire, spiritually. Compliance is physical, Obedience is spiritual. What's the difference?

We obey out of love. We obey because our relationship with someone else matters more to us than our own selfish desires. Obedience always involves death. Every time you obey, you die to your flesh. That's why it is so hard. Because our flesh fights tooth and nail for its life. It does not want to submit to the spirit.

In John 14:15, Jesus tells Phillip "if you love Me, you will keep and obey my commandments". Jesus wasn't commanding Phillip to comply. Jesus was stating a fact. When we love Him, we behave like Him. When we love Him, we submit our will to His. We do what He wants instead of just what we want.

Now don't hear me wrong. There are plenty of times when He wants us to enjoy something that we want. I am not saying that you never get your way. Just the opposite - you get your way by giving Him His. Because He wants for you more than you can ever imagine. The things you want aren't big enough. You think too small. Ponder that for a second. Because I have a pretty vivid and expansive imagination. God wants more.

The consequence of submission is transformation. When you submit to someone, you become more like them. When I submit to God, He changes me. As I become more like Him, of course I would behave more like Him. That's obedience - when it is totally natural for me to do what God would do because I am of the same mind. Obedience focuses on the person that you obey.

Compliance focuses on you. I remember hearing about a bus drivers strike in France. The bus drivers did not picket or anything we would normally picture. They complied. They followed every rule in the handbook. And nothing got done. They complied with the rules in order to get their own way. Compliance comes from resentment and rebellion.

When you comply instead of obey, it sends the message that you do not love me. That what I do, who I am, is unimportant to you. And that hurts. A lot. Compliance is part of obedience. But obedience is so much more. And that's what God wants for us. It's what I want for you - more.

This is my two cents worth, anyway.

Trust and Respect

I'm picturing our visits with the behavioral therapist for Vania. Vania's mother talks about how Vania is defiant, yells at her, and won't do as she's told. A child who just ignores her mom and does what she wants anyway. Disrespect. Vania's mom talks about disrespect.

The therapist asks what I think. What do I think? I think emotions are like radar signals. Radar sends out this radio wave. When the wave hits something - like an airplane, it bounces back. The dishes you think of are just the receivers. The dish hears this radio wave bouncing back. And that's how they see things far away.

I think Vania has an emotional radar jammer. Radar jammers do not, as the name implies, stop the radio waves. Just the opposite, they send out more. Radar jammers transmit the same radio waves back at the receiver. The idea is to overwhelm the receiver with so many waves that it can't tell the real ones from the fake ones. Radar jamming doesn't produce a blank screen. It produces a full screen, pure white.

Vania has an emotional jammer. It sends out so many signals that obscure the real things. Vania feels intense white noise. Her emotions are always running full blast - like a completely white radar screen. A radar jammer only works over a certain distance. Eventually, the plane hiding in the jamming gets close enough that the signal bouncing back is stronger than the noise. Jamming doesn't stop radar from working. It reduces the effectiveness of the radar. Eventually, the radar signal is stronger than the interference.

When the danger or source of Vania's emotions gets bad enough, close enough, then she can see it. But farther away, it's all part of the noise. It has to be right on top of her. So what does this have to do with trust & respect?

I used to think that were the same things. But that's not true. They are very, very close. They work together. They overlap. They are very, very similar. And from a distance, with lots of noise, they look the same on an emotional radar screen. Vania's disrespect comes from a lack of trust. In her heart, in her emotions, they are the same. Because she isn't close enough to them yet to tell them apart.

Submission

Parenting isn't about obedience. It's not about compliance. It's about relationships. Relationships are built on trust. Because with trust comes respect. Yes, Vania needs to learn how behave respectfully. As her father, it is my responsibility to teach her what that looks like. What I can't teach her is how to respect. Respect is a condition of our heart. It is given as we submit and live in relationship with other people. Respect is earned. It is earned when someone else invites us to respond to something they have done for us. I have to sacrifice for Vania first. And she chooses to accept or reject the invitation.

I do this through trust. As Vania trusts, she and I build a relationship. As our relationship grows, other virtues come out - respect, mercy, love. The pastor pointed out one Sunday that virtues are reciprocal. They must be given in order to be received (Matthew 5:7).

This is the give and take of a relationship. I don't want compliance from Vania. I want her to freely give. I want Vania to want me. And in order for that to happen, she must have the power to reject me. All I can do is invite. I do that by showing Vania the person God created.

This is how God loves us. Believe me, I didn't come up with this on my own. I learned it from a Father who lived it first - just like Vania learns from me. Funny how it all works together.

One Lousy Month

I'm watching this vine crawl up the railing on the porch. It climbed the bush in front. Then stretched over to the railing. It's curling around the front. I'm reminded of Jesus' story about wheat and tares.

I looked up tares once. I believe it said that they are a crop grown for livestock feed. Kind of like a vine. Tares have a weak stalk. They will intertwine with another plant and use it for support. Tares don't kill the other plant. But they will stunt it. 

In the story, a landowner has his hired hands plant wheat. The guy's neighbor comes with a gang of miscreants and throws out tare seeds in the same field. Tares aren't weeds. They had real use as fodder. It just wasn't what this guy wanted in that field.

Farmers are pretty picky about what they plant where. You rotate crops to keep the soil from depleting. Those tares messed up this guys rotation and made a lot of extra work for harvesting. Instead of grabbing huge handfuls, knowing it was all wheat. He would now need to individually sift each every plant. Very time consuming, I imagine.

So a few weeks pass. As the plants start to grow, the hired hands notice that some of them don't look like wheat. A little more time passes, and these guys are definitely sure some of that stuff isn't wheat. So the foreman goes to the landowner. 

"Didn't we plant wheat in the south field?" he asks. "Yes," says the owner. The foreman continues, "Well, there are tares mixed in with the wheat. Someone sabotaged us. What do we do?"

The owner looks over the field. He can see the tares and the wheat. The men sigh, realizing that they're going to be pulling tares out of the ground for the next few days. "Want us to pull them up?" asks the foreman.

"No", says the owner. "If you pull up the tares, you'll also damage some of the wheat. I'm not willing to lose any of the wheat. Not one grain. Wait until they both finish growing. When we harvest, we'll pull them apart. The wheat goes to the sellers. The tares you can burn for a bonfire."

"The tares make good feed for the livestock," says the foreman. The owner looks at him and says, "Yes, but it's not what I wanted. And I'm ticked off. Burn it. Burn it all."

Jesus finishes the story saying, "This is what it will be like at the end of the age." 

The point?

After a month like this, I start to question where God is. How can evil always seem to win out? Bad things happen, and there is no choice but to accept it. The voice inside says that there is no hope. There is no salvation. It is this way, just live with it. 

I feel naive, Pollyanna if you will, But I can't. I can't accept that. I may endure it. I may have to go through it. But I cannot believe that this how it's supposed to be.

Why is there evil? Because someone planted something He never intended. God looked over the world, time, and space. He saw what the landowner saw. If He pulls up the tares now, He'll lose some of the wheat too. It's just too intertwined.

Evil is ingrained in us. It's in our histories, our upbringing, our past, our future - like tares climbing wheat stalks. It wraps around and uses the good to spread, grow, and even flourish. 

But God decided that He isn't willing to lose any of the wheat. He isn't willing to accept any losses. Every last grain, every last person that He planted, will be His. No one will be lost. Not one. And He will wait. He will wait until He knows that He can gather them, pull them apart, and burn the rest of it.

That doesn't make the evil any easier to endure. Well, not for me anyway. It doesn't take away the hurt. And it doesn't bring back what was lost. But I still believe. It's all I have left. 

Promises, promises

I wish I had answers for you - how to forgive, what to do with the anger. I understand how it feels. Maybe that’s why we get along so well. For all our differences, we are a lot alike.

What I do know, what I cling to with nothing but faith, is that God gives peace. One day, when the world has spent itself, when He has found every person He calls His own, He will finish what He started. We live right now with only a promise. The promise that through Christ’s death we are righteous. No shame, no judgement, no more little voice that says “if only”. He will open our eyes. We will see ourselves - and those around us - as He sees us. Washed clean and set apart, on display as the crowning jewels of His achievement. Like a painting that holds a special place in your heart. We hold that place in His.

I was reading a passage in Galatians over lunch. The author tells them “you were set free by Jesus. Don’t put the chains back on.” We no longer live by the law, the expectations that other people impose on us. God offers grace. And His only term is that we love Him. All God asked, all Jesus preached, was believe. And it doesn’t matter who you are, what you do, or have done. Because He makes us new. He makes us as we were always intended to be - in His image. Full of peace, love, and joy.

The Bible describes it as fruit of the Spirit. Fruit grows. Fruit is the natural by product of the tree. The tree’s entire existence hinges on the fruit. The tree doesn’t create the fruit. It doesn’t make the fruit grow. The fruit just does because, well, that’s what it is. Peace, joy, love, those all come because, well, that’s who He is. It can’t be any other way. And as we become like Him, then we become that tree too. We grow that fruit too.

The world is still broken. And in this life, we will never fully realize this hope. The passage in Galatians talked about that too. We have the promise of righteousness. We have the promise of one day bearing that fruit without all of the painful labor it takes now. And for now, in the gap, we have Jesus’ blood. It is the vehicle through which God forgives.

I mentioned before how God let out all of His anger on this one man. The really cool part is what happened next. With the anger gone, God was empty. And the only thing left to fill that void was His love. So when it was all said and done, when He had finished letting Jesus have it with all the power and fury He could muster, God looked down on His Son who endured it all without a single protest and felt a love even bigger than His anger. That anger was intended for every person who ever lived. It covered everything we’ve ever done. And His love is even bigger. Imagine what it will be like when He lets that loose on us!

I don’t have any answers. I don’t know how you forgive someone who hurts you every day, over and over, without any remorse. I don’t know how to forgive something I can’t see. I do know that God loves you. God loves me. And for right now, it’s enough that I believe.

The Golden Rule's Silver Lining

I was thinking about giving and receiving. I read that when you want to connect with someone, you look into their left eye. That's the receiving eye. So as you're talking, you look in their left eye. It made me think about relationships in general, and my relationship with God specifically.

I suck at relationships. No, that's not quite right. It's more like stumbling around in the dark. Somewhere there is a light switch. I just haven't found it yet. The pastor is working his way through the book of Matthew. A couple of weeks ago, he went over the beatitudes. The one that came to mind tonight was "blessed are the merciful because they will receive mercy". The pastor said that is how virtues work - give and receive. 

He was clear that it isn't give to get. We give them freely - love, thanksgiving, happiness, mercy, generosity, integrity - knowing that we receive them back. Maybe not from the same person. That would be give to get. But in the end, when we need them most, God provides. We show mercy knowing that when we need it, mercy will be given to us. We receive.

And that led to the golden rule - do unto others as you would have them do unto you. It's not a command. I believed my whole life this was a command, something to obey, to do. It's not. The golden rule is the same principle, different words. Give unconditional love, forgiveness, mercy, generosity, integrity, joy and you will receive them. Because deep down, those are the things that we want from the people around us. 

Give and receive. Relationships are all about give and receive. One sided relationship simply do not work. Someone always feels unfulfilled. Why? Because that's why God created us. He wanted relationship. The give and take fuel a positive feedback loop. That's a death spiral in reverse. Instead of crashing and burning, it grows and soars. Think about all of the things God gives us: life, food, purpose, salvation, etc. 

But relationships also receive. What does God receive from us? Thanksgiving, gratitude, love, creativity, pleasure. And when He receives those, He wants to give us more. And that drives even greater gratitude, love, etc. It's a cycle that constantly builds on itself. Now imagine that happening every minute of every day for a billion years. Every hour, every day is more than the one before. It's compound interest gone wild!

God told us what He receives all through the Bible. Those aren't commands to be thankful. They aren't commands to obey. Those are statements of fact. When we love Him, when we live in relationship with Him, He will receive those things just because that's the very nature of the relationship. These aren't laws for judgement. They are signposts so that we can see progress!

Sin broke the relationship. Instead of receiving, we take. Instead of giving, we withhold. And it is an unfortunate fact of life that our sin nature is still in us. No matter how hard we try, in this life, we will always break the connection at different points. But God didn't accept that as final. He made a way of restoring what was lost. Redeeming what was broken. And He promises that one day, when it's all said and done, He will finish the transformation. We will be like His Son - always connected. And right now, those things He told us about - thanksgiving, obedience - they mark our ongoing transformation. It is His assurance to us that we are not lost. God wasn't passing judgement, He was giving us hope. Because that is His nature.

Trust

I wanted to talk about trust. Oh no - another letter from Dad. God puts these things on my heart and I want to share them with you. Writing is the way that I know how. God has given each of us our own way of communicating, of reflecting His glory. Some people sing, others play instruments, paint, poetry, make statues. I write. It's my way of saying I love you.

Trust is a precarious and precious thing. I've been thinking a lot about Vania lately - eating hot dogs, sleeping in my room. Vania is searching. She has this emptiness in her heart, a divine need. She feels something missing. We all feel this way. We all come across moments in our lives when we realize that we need something outside of ourselves. And we instinctively look for it from the people around us: friends, parents, siblings.

Eventually, the people around us fail to meet these needs. Even when they give us what we think we want, it doesn't meet the need. And we turn inside of ourselves. We begin to look for our own ways to meet those needs. If I can't trust you to meet my need, then I will find something that I can control.

For me, broken trust is very hard to rebuild. You and I see the world very differently. There are things that we don't understand. Huge blind spots full of pitfalls and obstacles. And we naturally know that we have to trust other people to help us through them. When those people let us down - when I let you down, that trust is broken. And our heart says that we can never trust them again.

You might like this personality test: 16 Personalities. It's kind of fun. And they make the results more understandable than what the typical test giver does reading from an instruction booklet. I came up as the Architect. I suspect that Vania would too.

Vania is searching. She can feel that something is happening. And she doesn't know what. It's something that she can't see. Something beyond her experience. So she instinctively looks for assurance, security, and love. I give her hot dogs to build trust. I let her sleep in my room to build trust. There will come a day soon when I ask Vania to do something very hard for her. And I want her to take strength and courage from her trust in me. Because I am just a poor reflection of God. Right now, Vania may be trusting me, but I am trusting God. And one day I hope to hand off Vania's relationship with me to God. One day she will trust Him too. And my responsibility is teaching her how.

The same goes for you. You were always meant to leave me. You were always meant to become an independent young woman and leave home. And my responsibility was teaching you how to trust God. I made a lot of mistakes. Instead I taught you how to withdraw into yourself. For that, I'm very sorry. I passed on my own weakness. It will take time to restore the trust that was lost. And at the same time, the nature of our relationship is changing. You can't depend on me. You were never meant to. You can depend on God. You were always meant to depend on God.

In the quiet, in the times that you're alone, practice listening. God always speaks with a calm, peaceful voice. No TV, no books, no noise, just listen. He knows what your heart needs and desires. He gave you those desires. And He has the power to make them come true. All He asks of us is to believe. This is my prayer for you. I love you.

My hope

Where do I start? I want to tell you all about Jesus. About how He died on a cross and why. That we're broken people. That we do self-destructive things because it's our nature. The law of entropy - any system left to itself breaks down. And we're in ourselves.

But we're that way only because we turned away from God. You see, nature was never intended to be a closed system. God always meant to infuse Himself into His creation. Every second of every day, He would feed some of Himself into the universe. Almost like electricity powers our homes. Constant regeneration. Because that's God's nature. He loves, with great generosity. He redeems because He loves. He creates. He builds.

We were always meant to reflect God. We are His image in this universe - like our own image in the mirror. So we feel like He feels. God feels joy, sadness, anger. The entire emotional spectrum. What happens when someone hurts us? We get angry. When someone violates the boundaries that we raised? We get angry. God does too. And I know that I violate those boundaries every day in a million different ways. From wanting to scream at my wife, to impatience with my autistic daughter, to just plain old wishing I had more. And many other ways that I don't even know. All the little slights or things I don't do of which I'm never even aware.

Even when our spouse doesn't realize they hurt us, it still makes us angry. Because we're like God. Even though I don't know, He's still feeling anger. Anger has to be spent. It can't be bottled, because that eats us from the inside out. God spends His anger. He has to let it out. Imagine what the God who created everything with mere words can do. The soul crushing anger that He would let loose. We couldn't take it. We would disintegrate - mind, body, and spirit.

The Bible describes it as "the mountains melting like wax". The mountains! I'm not that tough. And God knows all of this. He knows that we can't bear His wrath. He knows that it would completely destroy us to see all that we've done. To know all of the ways that we failed. All of the others that we've hurt. Shoot, knowing our own pain is hard enough.

And God came up with a solution. The only person who could ever endure His anger and survive is Him. So God gave up a part of Himself. That part of Him lived in a physical body, in a mud house. Ate food, drank water and wine, slept, pooped, everything we do. And lived a perfect life. Not a dream, not pampered, a life without ever hurting anyone else. A life that was like the one we were supposed to have. Complete and total obedience. No rebellion, no fear, no hopelessness.

And God let Him die. Hung Him on a cross. And completely let Him have it. God let loose all the anger, all of the wrath, everything He could dish out. The granddaddy of all hissy fits on a cosmic scale. God let go and He threw everything He could dish out at this one person - who stood there and took it. Without ever flinching, without ever protesting. God accused Him of every wrong I've ever done in my life. Of every stray thought, every desire for revenge, every time I failed. God just stuck it on that Guy and blew all of that rage in His face. And that Man took it. That Man said "You're right, I'm guilty of all of those things". God went through every person who ever lived. He called my name, your name, everyone. And when He was done, after all of the anger had come pouring out, all the yelling ended, all of the beating stopped, and His rage was spent, God saw love.

When we let our anger out, it leaves us empty. Spent is the word I think of. Drained. A vacuum never stays empty. Something else comes in to fill it. Since God is love, He only had love to fill that space.

And He saw Himself, that part of Him that did nothing and still took it. He felt pride. The kind of pride you feel when your kid does something amazing. That deep feeling of love and you just want to give them everything. This is what God sees when He looks at me. He sees Jesus, His Son, that Man, with eyes of love and pride. And every time He looks at me, all He can remember is how much His Son means to Him.

This is my hope. This is the only thing that I have left. Through all of this divorce, through all of the doubt, all of the times I wonder if it's me, am I doing the right thing? I remember, I know, I believe, that He sees Jesus - not my sin, not my brokenness, not the hardness of my heart that contributed to a broken marriage. He sees the Christ. He sees the anger already spent. And I survived - Jesus survived. All He knows for me is love.

This world has so many problems. But one day He promised a new world. A world where He gives me my name - the name He created me to have. All because one Man took it for me. This is my faith. This is the God who waits for me. This is the God who waits for you.

Wait, weight, and wait

I'd like to tell you my story - about how I ate as a way of covering up unease. I went from 190+ pounds down to 140 over 18 months. I hope to tell you why.

We all live with a level of discomfort, unease. It's a longing for something we can't see or put into words. A need so deep that we will do anything and everything to find fulfillment. We spend our entire lives pursuing the peace that comes from filling that need. Alcohol, cigarettes, drugs, TV, web sites, you name it. We use all of these things and more in a vain attempt to find something that meets this need.

God created us for relationship with Him. The longing you feel, I feel, is for a connection with Him. God gave us all of those things - alcohol, TV, candy, friends, etc. - to bring enjoyment. Enjoyment, but not joy. Joy comes through our spirit, our heart, from God. When we connect with Him, we are at peace. When He leads us, all of the other stuff follows naturally.

What do I mean? The formula for losing weight is simple - eat less, do more. Consume fewer calories while burning more of them. Your body will convert fat into calories. It literally burns off the weight. The hard part of losing weight wasn't knowing how. The hard part (for me) was actually doing it.

So what changed? I got sick and tired of being sick and tired. Like every other change in my life, the moment comes when I stop taking control. I stopped fixing the discomfort, stopped trying to cover over the longing, and gave it over to God. I yelled, pleaded, begged, and screamed. He let me be angry and sad. Through it all, He was faithful. He is still faithful.

That moment came in an OCD fit. Medication, overeating, and stress brought on the desire for strength and power so strong that I could not control it. And I just grabbed onto something, a phrase, where I had to be right. It had to be exactly my way or nothing at all. I remember stepping back outside myself at the time, thinking how dumb it all was. But I couldn't stop. It's like when Vania goes nuts - because I have to.

An amazing thing happened, though. The person on the receiving end forgave me. Not with a fight. Not after making me feel bad. I felt plenty bad on my own. I had hurt a friend, probably one of the closest friends I had. But willingly, before I even asked. And I felt such gratitude that I chose to change. This is the forgiveness that God offers. It took another person for me to see what He always provided.

God changed me. All I had to do was allow Him. So what does that have to do with losing weight? Because it was easier to eat less when I trusted Him. When I listened, when I connected with Him, He filled that longing. Not completely. But enough. And all of a sudden I didn't want to scarf down a pizza in a fit of depression. The temptation is still there. But it lost its power. It's weak. Weaker than the Spirit that says wait.

It was hard, what God asked me to do. This is no cake walk. But once I listened, once I submitted myself to His will, God led me into behaviors that resulted in losing weight. Because I asked. I asked Him to fix the mess I had made of myself. And He answered.

Now this is the part that you probably expected - what did I actually do...

• Track calories
• Replaced carbs with proteins
• Walking for 30 minutes a day

It wasn't all at once. Those 3 bullet points happened over 6 months. They came about in gradual steps. For example, I had to replace bread and candy in order to stay in my calorie limit. Lunchables were great. Then Slim Jims and tuna fish. Slowly, steadily, God would open my eyes with a new idea. Pickles, pretzels, popcorn. Over the course of a year my diet changed. One step at a time.

I learned that it was okay to eat a little more once in a while. I learned that I didn't have to keep a calendar of my walking. I learned that God can provide lunch every day, day after day, of just what I needed. And most of all, I learned that He could tell me when to stop. I followed no plan. I had no set date in mind. Even the weight I wanted isn't the weight I'm at. But I am where God wants me to be.

The longing never goes away, not in this life or in this world. At the end of Revelations, we learn that God creates a new earth. The apostle John says He will wipe away all of their tears. And He sends out His Son, who hands each and every person a little white stone. On the stone is written your name. The name that God knows you by. The name that explains who you are, who He always saw you to be. In that moment, in that one second, God finishes the work that He began in us. That is when the longing is filled. He restores the connection. And this all becomes just another memory.