A-Rod and the Cross

I did something yesterday that I vowed I would never do.

I picked up Joe Torre's book "The Yankee Years."

For those of you who don't know, I love the Yankees. Probably one of my top five favorite things in the world (the other four being the members of my family). Baseball (softball too) has been threaded into our family since the day I was six and the Yankees are who we root for. We don't mind being proud followers of the evil empire.

And Joe Torre?

He was the manager in the glory days of the late 90's-early 2000's when the Yankees were so successful.. and then he bitterly left in '07 to coach the Dodgers.

Yes, I was one of those who took it to heart. Yes, I was that guy who wrote the meaningless angry editorial and had it printed in my small New England college's newspaper. Yes, I felt "betrayed" by his book and called it unnecessary.

Well, yesterday I picked it up (out of curiosity more than anything). I started skimming: and what I read blew me away.

He's human!

The players we watch and the players we cheer for and the players we boo: they're all human!

He wrote about certain players and their fear of failure and how that destroyed them mentally. He talked about the players he loved like sons. He talked about conversations, mistakes, personalities, his biggest regret.

And then he wrote about A-Rod.

Alex Rodriguez has got to be the most hated player in baseball.. history. If you don't love him, you really hate him. He's rich, he's good, he cheats on his wife: why wouldn't you hate him?

Except that he's human. He's just like me and you.

He obsessed with his stats because no one must have ever taught him that a team isn't about individual achievements. He worked the hardest because when he failed, there must have been something more he could have done. He had a hard time fitting in with his teammates because he compared himself to them and when he found his way of doing things wasn't working, he was stumped.

Reading Torre's words, all I can think about is that A-Rod just wants to be loved and accepted. He just wants to please everyone. He's always been praised and liked when he put up big numbers: so in his eyes, what happens when he fails? He's booed, he's disliked, and that's the way his life goes. His acceptance is performance based. His value is performance based. He's used to living a me-centered comparison game and it's given him incredible insecurities.

Don't we do the same things? Aren't we redeemed for the same things?

Because I read about A-Rod's life and I think: I've been there! I've done that! I live that! I've compared myself to others, I've made standards, I've racked myself with guilt when I thought I could have done more, when I feel like I've let people down, I've been nervous to come before God when I knew I hadn't been spending enough time with Him. It's exhausting. It's not the way the Cross tells us to live.

The Cross tells us to look around and compare ourselves and see there really is no one weaker.. and then to know that WE'RE LOVED AND VALUED ANYWAY. Life isn't about being good enough for the Cross. It tells us that we're loved despite what we do. It's recognizing that we're all A-Rods. We're worse than we think we are and Titus 3:3-7 has saved us.

I'm guilty of judging A-Rod. Of thinking his actions weren't a reflection of something deeper. Of gossiping about him. Of holding his flaws against him. I think it's a part of being a fan of a team but I question if it is. In those tumultuous months and during his continuous slumps, I wonder what I would have done if I had come face to face with him. Ridicule and question his ability? Or hug him and tell him he's loved and valued even if he never gets a hit the rest of his career?

In the end, I probably won't finish the book. I'm a nostalgic person and reading about the past and then watching the Yankees look awful against the Rangers makes me miss the old Yankees and the October nights staying up late watching World Series games with my family. It defined my childhood.

But the book was worth skimming in what it reminded me:

We're more like each other than we think. We're in this together.

The Cross frees us from performance, approval, and people pleasing.

Jesus died for you. He died for me. He died for A-Rod.

And the Red Sox: I guess He died for them too.

Motherhood: what a wonderful job.

I spend a lot of time with kids. Kids of all ages. I love them. And after getting a Guthe gift to spend four days with their three tinys, I've realized something that's been knocking on my heart for a while:

Motherhood is the best job. Ever.

The three I just finished watching are just so full of joy. They play, they laugh, they love each other: it's so infectious. They say hilarious things that make me laugh, they sing and dance to Fee's "Happy Day," and they think a fort in the living room is the coolest thing ever. Yes I was so thankful when naptime rolled around for a few moments of silence: but then I found myself counting down the minutes until the tinys woke up again.

Motherhood is so great.

Yes. I realize the longest consecutive stint I've had working that job is for eight days and so I have very little experience (actually I have none at all), but I'm gaining tremendous perspective.

I've been thinking a lot (and I have dear friends who remind me) that life is all about choices. You have a choice.. in everything. A choice in what to say, how to respond, how to react, if you want to act like Jesus or not. And more often than not, what happens when I lash out or the nastier sides of me show, it's because I made the wrong choice. The choice is there: it's just a matter of whether we choose to acknowledge it.

Parenting is all about choices. What to say when your child is making you want to scream. When you're exhausted. When you just want a second alone. There's a better way than your instinct.

It was 6:20 in the morning on Day 2 and one tiny wanted one thing and another tiny wanted another. And I wanted something completely different: time for a shower or time to just crawl back into bed for another three hours. And I remember getting to the point of frustration. And I remember feeling like my frustration was about to show and I remember noticing the choice. (That really never happens to me: I usually just make the wrong choice and deal with the consequences afterwards). But I noticed the choice this time and made the right one: I took a moment, hugged and kissed each tiny, and got them what they needed.

There's always a choice.

In "The Reason For God" (only halfway through but its easily climbing its way into my top five books), Tim Keller says that the "primary way to define sin is not just the doing of bad things, but the making of good things into ultimate things. It is seeking to establish a sense of self by making something more central to your significance, purpose, and happiness than your relationship with God."

And then he says this: "If you don't live for Jesus, you will live for something else. If you live for your children and they don't turn out all right, you could absolutely be in torment because you feel worthless as a person."

Having a family is good. It's great. God calls us to have families: it's in the Bible! We're supposed to love our children, care for them, teach them, guide them, lead them. But when we attempt to live for them and make them into ultimate things, that's when we lose sight of our higher dependency.

Being a parent is a call to higher dependency.

I read what Tim Keller writes and I think about my brief "parenting" stint and I think about how hard that is. Every single second is spent pouring into your kids. Pretty much everything you do affects them in one way or another. You can forget about everything else.. and the only reasons could just be that you're busy and you're tired.

So how do you do it? How do you stay dependent and humble? How do you not make the caring of these awesome, beautiful, God given creatures your identity? How do you remember in the chaos that you're ultimately not in control?

And my good friend Todd says this:

Walk with God and love your kids and God will make it happen.

It's as simple as that, isn't it?

God chasers

Do you ever wonder what heaven will be like?

I think about it all the time. I wonder if we'll know each other, be able to have conversations. I imagine angels and thrones and lights that blind us and millions and millions of worshippers. I imagine BEING WITH GOD.

It'll be new. Perfection. Peace. Beauty. Serenity. Worship. Glory. Divine Contentment.

God's Word says this:

"Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride, adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be His people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away." (Rev. 21:1-4)

Doesn't that sound like the most amazing place you've ever heard of?

I'm tired of this Earth. I'm tired of this sin. I'm tired of these distractions. I'm so tired. I just want to worship the One who became my sin, who showed me grace, who saved me, who made me an example of transformation, but so many things get in the way. I get in the way. Does that ever get easier? Do the distractions ever go away?

In heaven, there won't be any distractions. There won't be any more sin. No more pain. Or divorce. Misunderstandings and miscommunication will be gone. No more insecurities, uncertainty, division, pride, jealousy, greed, anxiety, temptation. No more lying, no more thoughts to control. There won't be any more desire to fit in, to be popular, to be cool, to have the latest trends. Sex won't be an object of fulfillment. No more disease, murder, suicide, rape, sexual exploitation, kidnapping, molestation, pornography. The need to speak truth will be gone because we'll be surrounded by Truth.

We'll be completely satisfied.

Doesn't that all sound... heavenly?

Satan does his best to distract us from bringing heaven to Earth. He discourages us, frustrates us, fills our heads with lies. It's so hard to focus on heaven when this Earth is filled with such hell. It's so hard to think about this place where God will dwell with us, where the greatest blessing will be unhindered fellowship with our Creator.

But my good friend Mark tells me there's hope. There's hope for that Kingdom and I know he's right. Yes there's hell on Earth, we help bring it too, but we as Christians have an understanding and a hope in this Divine Other World.

2 Peter 3:13 says this:

"But according to his promise, we are waiting for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells."

Our hope ultimately depends not on our works, but on God's promise. On new life. So when I feel impatient and sad and sick and tired, I remember that hope. Amen.

My Werewolf Jesus friend blogs this about heaven:

and we'll all be up there together, God chasers, awake and giddy with that specific combination of excitement and relief that comes from waking up from a dream - no matter how good or bad. and like all dreams do, maybe our times on this version of earth will fade from memory and all that will be left is the lessons we took away. the lessons in love and mercy, kindness and joy. forgiveness and patience. the kind of lessons that cs lewis says will make us "more solid, more suitable for heaven".

(God chasers: I love that. Be a God chaser with me).

All of this is making us more suitable for heaven.

I just can't wait to get there.

The Cross

Who believes what we've heard and seen? Who would have thought God's saving power would look like this?

The servant grew up before God—a scrawny seedling, a scrubby plant in a parched field. There was nothing attractive about him, nothing to cause us to take a second look. He was looked down on and passed over, a man who suffered, who knew pain firsthand. One look at him and people turned away. We looked down on him, thought he was scum. But the fact is, it was our pains he carried—our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us. We thought he brought it on himself, that God was punishing him for his own failures.

But it was our sins that did that to him, that ripped and tore and crushed him—our sins! He took the punishment, and that made us whole.

Through his bruises we get healed. We're all like sheep who've wandered off and gotten lost. We've all done our own thing, gone our own way. And God has piled all our sins, everything we've done wrong, on him, on him.

He was beaten, he was tortured, but he didn't say a word. Like a lamb taken to be slaughtered and like a sheep being sheared, he took it all in silence. Justice miscarried, and he was led off—and did anyone really know what was happening? He died without a thought for his own welfare, beaten bloody for the sins of my people. They buried him with the wicked, threw him in a grave with a rich man, Even though he'd never hurt a soul or said one word that wasn't true.

Still, it's what God had in mind all along, to crush him with pain. The plan was that he give himself as an offering for sin so that he'd see life come from it—life, life, and more life. And God's plan will deeply prosper through him.

Out of that terrible travail of soul, he'll see that it's worth it and be glad he did it. Through what he experienced, my righteous one, my servant, will make many "righteous ones,” as he himself carries the burden of their sins.

Therefore I'll reward him extravagantly—the best of everything, the highest honors—
Because he looked death in the face and didn't flinch, because he embraced the company of the lowest. He took on his own shoulders the sin of the many, he took up the cause of all the black sheep.

Isaiah 53

Living Disciplined for Christ (without Taco Bell)

I recently spent a few days fasting, which, to me, is an intense form of discipline. Discipline is not my strong suit, whereas food is, so to say I was nervous would be putting it lightly. I was prepped and warned that every time I got hungry or my stomach growled, to pray or read the Bible. Easy enough.

I was hungry EVERY SECOND. It sounds obvious now that the hunger would be constant, but I had never experienced that before. I stay pretty consistently satisfied on my diet of Taco Bell and pita chips and hummus.

The hunger dominates you.

But that’s when the most is revealed. When I was the hungriest and the most uncomfortable and without what I needed, I saw how spiritually undisciplined I am, how little consistent time I make for God, how often I go to my friends for my spiritual needs before I go to my knees, how little I serve. I found myself with plenty of time to clearly answer the questions of what being spiritually disciplined looks like to me and how to apply these things once I brought food back into my life.

The only thing that took my mind off the hunger was thinking about God. Praying. Knowing other people were praying. Reading His Word. Reading other people’s words. When something essential was taken away from me, the only way to survive was on a higher dependency.

There’s something about the dependency during a fast that we don’t get everyday. It’s incredible. We go through life comfortable and satisfied, getting what we want and calling on God when we need it. When we’re consumed with worldly things, we push God a little further away.. whether we mean to or not. Being uncomfortable is when I think we learn the most. Becoming desperate to live by God’s Word is when we grow the most.

I'll be honest: fasting was one of the hardest things I've ever done. It was so challenging. The days felt like 80 hours instead of 24 and Big Macs looked like heaven on a plate (yes frenchpressedfridays). I was close to passing out during a mandatory intern luncheon: Jersey Mike's never looked so good.

But what's growth without a challenge?

And the coolest part of my fast? The things that were revealed to me were not the reasons I began my fast in the first place. They were just an added bonus! The fear over my future that I was letting consume my life was replaced with peace AND I was given the opportunity to see and pray over these new realizations that were revealed. I love the way God works.

I was watching the movie "The Book of Eli" last night and I couldn't help but think about my fast. I’m still wading through my thoughts from this movie and the verdict is still out on whether I liked it or not, but this part I love:

Denzel is in possession and is the protector of the last remaining Bible on Earth. He reads it every day and won’t let anyone else touch it. He’s got the whole thing memorized. People thirst for it and hunt him down just to get their hands on it. Food and water are precious commodities. Lives are dismal and dark and evil and there's a desperation for truth. There are people who would do anything to get their hands on that Bible. They’re desperate.

That kind of desperation reminded me of my fast. Knowing that drawing close to Christ was my only option made me practically not do anything else but read the Bible. I wasn't content doing anything else. I couldn't wait. That kind of desperation didn't exist when I was full and satisfied. That kind of desperation made me disciplined.

I pray to always be that desperate for the Bible, for truth to be revealed, even when my stomach is filled with chalupas. I pray to be disciplined for dependency.. because what’s the point of living for Christ if we’re not going to recognize our need for that higher dependency? I pray to not sink back into my undisciplined, do-it-myself ways. I pray that comfort will no longer satisfy me. I pray to want more than my complacency and to never come to a conclusion on seeking and desiring Christ.

I'm back cruising the T.B. drive thru, but I feel a little more disciplined this time. To leave my fears behind, to seek Christ first before I seek my corner, to selflessly serve, and to realize that a #6 is not the real food of life.

What wonderful disciplines.

Drops like Stars

i just spent the past three hours at barnes and noble by myself: reading, writing, and people watching. mm that's what i love the most.

i was thinking about picking up a trashy People magazine with elin nordegren on the cover after about two and a half hours.. but i wandered over to the christian inspiration section instead and picked up rob bell's 'drops like stars.' it's the only rob book i haven't read and it's short enough.. so i found a comfy chair and started reading.

it's a weird little book, pretty unconventional. he writes a lot about suffering and references art quite a bit. but one section he writes about stripping away things in life.. and he quotes mark twain as saying,

if i'd had more time, i would have said less.

that blew me away.

because for me, it's just the opposite. if i could do things over again, i would have said more. if i'd had more time, i wouldn't stop talking.

that's when it hit me.

it's not about what we say. it's never about what we say.

IT'S ABOUT CHRIST.

it seems so obvious now. why would i ever think it was about what i say?? what i do?? of course i can't be a good anything.. duh. everything i do is inadequate if it is done without Christ.

i keep forgetting that and over and over again i'm reminded of how thankful i am for His grace.

and then rob bell writes about going to a counselor and how every time he mentions the word 'mistake' or 'failure' or 'sin,' his counselor says:

the God who wastes nothing.

He wastes nothing! nothing is failure! even the failed pieces are essential. rob bell writes that it isn't just a failure, it's an opportunity.

to be bitter or better.

closed or open.

more ignorant or more aware.

more or less tuned in to what God is doing.

we have a CHOICE to make, a CHOICE on how to react when we mess up. there are two ways to see things, two ways to respond, and we have a choice on how we are going to let things unfold from this point on. will we humbly admit where we've wanted control, where things have veered, where we can learn and grow? will we become more aware of God's presence and be open to how He's shaping us? will we rebuke satan by the fact that we're loved and secure in Christ's blood? will we accept the reality that we're forgiven?

there's a choice.

(and when i read rob bell, i start to write in sentences instead of paragraphs).

and then it reminds me of francis chan and forgotten god and this big lesson of discipline i've been learning in this season of my life.

it all comes down to discipline.

if i'm not disciplined in seeking God first, then none of my life makes sense. if i'm not disciplined in getting on my knees and asking for help, then i invite God to take part in my life, to see and approve of what i'm doing, instead of willingly asking to be a part of what He's doing.

sometimes i get on these 'freedom highs' and feel so pumped to be free.. but what kind of freedom am i living if i'm not being disciplined? a lazy, unorganized, unmotivated, me-seeking kind of freedom. a freedom that fits God in.

and i'm left with realizing that it's not all about what i do or say, but about what Christ does or says through me. i can't be a good anything if i'm not actively pursuing the Spirit and if i'm not humbly abandoning myself.

there are a lot more thoughts still brewing on francis and discipline..

(read what my friends are writing: when hell comes to town and inception).

An Ultimate Story of Grace

i've been thinking about c.s lewis and narnia and "the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe" alot lately i just recently watched the movie and (thanks to my friend erin's recent blog post: hello, my name is edmund) i can't stop thinking about edmund.

because i am him.

his story is most like mine, his redemption is most like mine.

i love edmund. he's my absolute favorite.

i see underneath that desire for turkish delights and i see a desire to be loved, to be accepted. he gets picked on all the time by his family, why wouldn't the white witch's antics seduce him?

edmund does awful, selfish things. he falls into the traps of the white witch and betrays his family on several occasions. he wants what he wants and he'll do whatever it takes to get it. he's used to a me-centered life and i think it's safe to say that, so far, living that way has been frustrating for him. he lives in the shadow of his older brother, his father isn't at home, his country is in the middle of a war-- the witch offers stability that he hasn't seen in a long time.

i'm not trying to make excuses for edmund or his actions, but i am saying he's human. aren't you edmund too?

besides aslan (of course), edmund's our hero. he has to be our hero.

look at what he did..

yet he's invited back.

he turned his back on everyone who loved him..

yet he is INVITED BACK.

edmund's story is the ultimate example of redemption. isn't that encouraging!?

the lion, witch, and the wardrobe is the ultimate story of grace.

because no matter how much i'm like edmund, i know i'm not like peter and susan and lucy.

they fully understand grace. because grace is not only about forgiving and loving:

it's about FORGETTING, it's about INVITING people back, it's about WELCOMING them in, it's about giving them more than they deserve. it's about CELEBRATING them, cheering them on, seeing them do good, recognizing their humanness.

they welcome their brother back, joke with him, feed him, clothe him, hug him. they give him armor, suit him up to fight, celebrate when he's spared. he's one of them again, no questions asked. no making him feel bad, no making him pay.

and edmund: he doesn't remind his siblings of how much they ridiculed him. how little love they showed him. how they drove him away. he doesn't say remember this? he understands what's been done for him, he accepts it, and he runs back into their arms: no exceptions.

that's grace.

and when aslan is on the stone table and he is being mocked and jeered and his fur is being shaven and his body is being tied, aren't you yelling, "that should be edmund!! that SHOULD BE ME!! aslan did nothing, he doesn't deserve this, is this reallyyy the only option!??"

because if the cost of betrayal is turning the betrayer over to the white witch, then serve edmund up! hand him over: he deserves it! hand me over: i deserve it!

having the king die and pay the ultimate price for mine and edmund's stupidity and moronic behavior?

that's inconceivable grace.

with that kind of sacrifice, knowing that someone took your place on the stone table, wouldn't you live differently? like edmund, wouldn't you fight differently? knowing the kind of price that was paid to save you, wouldn't you show love to save others?

i'm so thankful to be edmund.