I’ve grabbed hold of a truth lately, which I dare not receive, nor carry, lightly, as it potentials grave misunderstanding. Thus, I’m delicately handing this “explanation” over to the elegance of our Lord.

He has made everything beautiful in its time. Ecclesiastes 3:11

There seems a grave difference between "seeing the beauty of God," versus "seeing the God of beauty." That says nothing of inherent wrongness in seeing the richness of a flower, or ascribing splendor to sheer appearance. The tragedy, however, is commending such beauty as beauty itself—as nothing more than a realized appearance. It’s the danger of confining beauty to the task of its object. A flower may well be beautiful, and your naked eye rightly touched by its marvel. But such beauty can only span so far—such touching can only press so deep.

Ample measures in beauty’s depth, and adequate meanings in her height, require ardent discovery of her Maker. Beauty can only reach full beautification under the sensitive hands of her Designer. No element of beauty—no essence of being beautiful—finds existence apart from God. So to finalize a grasp of beauty, by terminating at perceived beauty alone, we've robbed ourselves of the greater beauty—Beauty herself. All beauty flows from God, so that in tasting a delicacy, or detailing an aroma, we must learn to ascribe the Creator, at the hand of the creation.

Father, may we never acknowledge beauty apart from You, or know Beauty as anything but You. With Gratitude, Your children.

I was challenged by these high school seniors standing up for what they believe:

LifeWay Article: Students, at Graduation, Pray to Protest Judge's Ruling

In conversations of tough times in life, a girl I mentor wrote a challenging word this morning: "Considering what we don't deserve (outside the grace of Jesus) seems like it helps to squash expectations that often lead to a hugely dissapointing views of the world. Rather than asking the question, "Why all this bad stuff?" perhaps we should try asking, "Why anything good?"  Under this mindset, life looks pretty different......the fact that God can, let alone chooses to, resurrect any bit of good from an earth where everyone rebels is such a miracle."

Grace. Amazing, amazing grace. It's why we live and should be what we live for. Be thankful today that we've been called into another series of breaths.

And pray for Indonesia.

Taylor Hicks has been named 2006’s American Idol after viewers of the talent show cast nearly 64 million votes in one night — more votes than any US president has received."

Enough Said.

Using God—a concept foreign to me, until last week. Well, foreign in the sense of never having recognized it. In short, it was the first time I realized how often my encounters with God assume an end, or result, if you will. Whether it’s an answer, direction, or even new composition, seldom do I find myself spending time with God just to spend time with Him. And don’t get me wrong, blatantly bad motives haven’t been exempt from our relationship, but at least they’re disguised as “need-based” rendezvous, or seasons of God in the Santa Claus costume. Never though, had I found myself in this ‘using God’ mentality, where His means simply assumed my desired end.

Last week was different though. My time with God somehow began necessitating (often unintentionally) an “end” different from what I’d started with. In other words, there was a presupposition that after spending time with Him, there would rest a stained advancement of our meeting—a tangible evidence of my gain. And in some ways, you’re probably saying, “That’s good, isn’t it…it means you’re constantly learning and growing in your relationship?” And to a certain extent, I agree. No man stands a chance of spending time with God and not experiencing change, but these changes are unpredictable graces and thus, should not and cannot be assumed! Miraculous changes accompany God’s presence, but woe is me to expect, let alone attempt, predicting such changes. For in doing so, I forfeit my ability to enjoy God—to be in His presence. Furthermore, there rises an exhausting intensity and intense suppression of the cultivated quiet God desires for my heart. Finally, I lose sight of the joys of being with God and finding absolution in that posture.

God, I want to enjoy You today. I want to experience and encounter You in a one-sided way—in a way that YOU serve as the sole means and end to our relationship. Father, I know You well enough to realize change and changing ends automatically spill from Your presence. But Father, I also know me well enough to realize my assumed role in that changing, or sought after end in Your changes. Guide me to a place of being with you today. Being still and knowing You without a pretense, or expected destination. And in doing so, remembering the joy therein and the purity from there out.

Driving home tonight, the world isn't right. My stomach hurts. His high beams are glaring at me. Her singleness tears deep. His buddy is dying of a brain tumor. It's dark and cold. I'm tired.

Optimism is telling me, "Snap out of it and look on the bright side."

But Truth is saying, "Stay where you are tonight and let Me hold you. This side isn't meant to be the bright one."

Upcoming Radio Interviews:

May 16th, 12:35pm, WCRF's "The Morning Program" (Cleveland and surrounding areas)
May 18th, 7:30am, Family Net Radio, "Live with Scott and Lori" (www.familynetradio.com/mornings)
May 23rd, 11:05am, KBJS's "Take 5" (Texas)
May 31st, 11:30am, KNEO (Neosho, MO), "Author's Corner" with Chad Jones

Listen-in if you're nearby!

Jesus told me to love my neighbor. Is that telling so hard? Is the walk too far, or the love too interfering?

Jesus also told me to core my life with compassion. Not comparison. Compassion. Not competence, or composure.

Each of my neighbors is gay. The house beside me, the couple behind me and the partners diagonal. Gay. All gay. Yet I had a most enchanting evening with two of them this weekend. It began with gardening banter, but tilled itself into genuine dialogue ranging from deep-seeded fears, to parties themed by Brokeback Mountain. What started on a driveway with two men I barely knew, ended with tears and laughter that barely knew me.

Why am so tempted to judge my neighbors? To avoid their driveway lest they change their ways? To hate.

Jesus told me to love my neighbors. Jesus also told me to core my life with compassion.

If I believed dark, furry creatures swayed the destiny of my luck, you mine as well call the morgue. Two black cats crossed my path today. Luckily though, pun completely intended, I don’t believe in superstition.

The concept of “belief” has lingered with me lately. We throw the word around freely, but its considerations are really quite daunting. If I really believed that path could hurt me, would I take it? Or if I really believed that processing could give me cancer, would I eat it? And I guess most importantly, if I really believed God came, cared, or planned as He says, would I do things differently?

A friend of mine got baptized last week. Not a sprinkle baptism, or one of those tank immersions like they do at my church, but a full-on, “down to the river” baptism. A crew of us gathered at a lake nearby Auburn University to celebrate the occasion. Cold and rainy from a weatherman’s perspective, but undeniably radiant for all in attendance. Just short of overwriting the Gospel of John, Mary Elizabeth’s washing was beautiful.

Her story included a tough upbringing, ranging from addiction, to severe depression and illness. In a Damascus-like sophomore year, however, the Lord intersected her troubled days and has literally transformed her life. Without being too dramatic, but also avoiding too much minimizing, experiencing ME’s baptism was a miracle. As her spiky, short hair collided with the rain-struck water, the calm beams of Jesus couldn’t help but pour down.

Soaking my ride home were reflections on belief. Processing remains immature, so I’ll leave it at this: The ability to believe—anything—is a really, really amazing measure of the will. And to Mary Elizabeth, I’ll leave this: “I’m thanking God for you, a sister loved by the Lord, because from the beginning God chose you to be saved through the sanctifying work of the Spirit and through belief in the truth. He called you to this through our gospel, that you might share in the glory of Jesus Christ.” (2 Thessalonians 2:13-14).

Have a great weekend. I’m laying low, attempting to avoid all meandering black cats.