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I should really dislike Penn Jillette on principle.

He’s a committed atheist who says reading the Bible is the best way to become a committed atheist.

He’s a magician. Call it a personal shortcoming on my part, but I find magicians annoying, even though I appreciate illusion.

He has a propensity towards being quite the angry potty mouth.

Penn Jillette and I disagree on many things. I should dislike him on principle.

And I’ve tried. But I can’t.

Because he respects my right to believe that he has it all wrong, and he encourages me to do a better job of being a Christian:

And he’s proven to me that a person can be godless and still be moral and attempt to live right:

In short, Penn Jillette is a better person than me. And if everyone was, as he believes, basically good, then we would have no need for God or Jesus.

But that’s a HUGE if, because I believe that people are not basically good.

And I only need turn on the news to confirm this. Or better yet, simply look into my own heart.

Still, I cannot and will not dismiss him simply because he doesn’t believe as I do. While I may not appreciate his views, I greatly appreciate how well he articulates them.

I can’t help it. I like the guy…

Deep, breathy sigh…

I’m still trying to wrap my brain around all the information I heard at Exponential 2012–the largest annual gathering of church planters in the world.

Four years ago, the missional church movement was beginning to gain momentum. It was right about that time when I read The Tangible Kingdom: Creating Incarnational Community by Hugh Halter and Matt Smay and loved what they had to say about living out our faith through living in community with one another and serving the world. After all, the point and the process of my church, C3 (also known as the “mission statement”) is Love God and people, Live in community with one another and Serve the world, or more simply: Love, Live, Serve.

So I was very excited to see that Hugh and Matt would be conducting some workshops at Exponential this year. One of particular interest to me was Practical Tools for Moving Consumers to Missionaries and Small Groups to Missional Communities. (Consumers being people who typically attend “big church” on Sunday but don’t get involved in missions or small groups.) As it turned it, Matt Smay was not in the session. Brandon Hatmaker, pastor of Austin New Church and author of Barefoot Church tag teamed with Hugh Halter for this session. And while I greatly appreciated the point and their process for discipling people through missional living and serving the poor, at the end of the session, something was nagging at me.

Big time.

Because for me, the process was more about weeding out those people who just wanted Jesus on Sunday morning without delving into the bigger question of WHY that was okay to only want Jesus on their own terms. I left the session feeling like nominal Christians were someone else’s problem, not the problem of the missional church. I was in such a lather about the whole thing that I couldn’t focus on the main session which followed the workshop. Instead, I began to scribble madly in my notebook the following:

Rich Young Ruler

Process seems effective at weeding out those consumers who have no interest in becoming committed followers, but I don’t see much in the way of moving consumers into something more. I understand that it’s easy to label these people as Pharisees and wash our hands of them, but people who don’t think they need Jesus–or worse, those who think they have a saving knowledge and relationship with Jesus but don’t–are the ones who so desperately need Him!

Then there’s the resource issue. Had the rich young ruler said, “Yes, Jesus. I choose you and everything I own belongs to the kingdom”, how would that have played out?

How do we lead people with financial resources away from consumerism into discipleship? And if they’re stubborn and don’t want to move, do we let them go and just say, “Good luck with all of THAT?”

By giving up on them and calling them Pharisees, are we not doing some of the hard things that Jesus would have us do because they’re easy to demonize? What could God do with their resources if we somehow lead them to an understanding of what it is to give your life to Christ? Without telling them that God will bless them–because if we do that, we’re just selling them more consumerism. Maybe they won’t be blessed. Maybe they’ll be sifted. But because they have much they are expected to give much. Are they a lost cause? A nut too tough to crack and bring into the family of God?

Still feeling very unsettled (and needing to pee because I’d had about 2 gallons of coffee that morning), I excused myself from the worship center to find a bathroom. Guess who was manning a booth on the way to the bathroom? Give up? Hugh Halter, Matt Smay and Brandon Hatmaker. Lucky them.

On my way back from the bathroom, I stopped at the booth. It went something like this:

Hugh Halter: How are you doing?

Me: I’m very frustrated.

Hugh Halter: Well, bring it on.

I proceeded to unload on them what I had madly scribbled in my notebook. I shared with them that I live in a community where you can’t swing a bat without hitting ten or so churches. Churches filled with disciples but also with what they would classify as Consumer Christians. I expressed that I did believe in their process of making disciples through missional living, but wondered aloud about those who didn’t choose that path. Are they not worth the trouble? Do we have a process of reaching those who think they are found but are really lost? Does God value them less because they seem to value Him less? Brandon talked me down off the ledge a bit. He shared an email from a wealthy man whose life had been transformed by serving the poor, and I am grateful that people are being transformed by truly living out their faith. He also told me that we can’t change people’s hearts, only God can do that. In the end, Brandon gave me a free copy of his book. I’m sure it was only partly to get rid of this raving lunatic woman at their booth.

But I’m still feeling frustrated.

I still think we’re leaving folks behind. People who may be as close as a conversation over a cup of coffee.

And I suppose that’s gotta start with me.

What do you think? Are nominal Christians the burden of the “big church”?

Whenever someone asks me to review a book they’ve written, I approach the task with an equal mix of flattery and trepidation–flattered that my opinion of their work means something to them and wary that I won’t be able to write a glowing, positive AND honest review.

After receiving one book a year or so ago and realizing I couldn’t possibly in good conscious write a positive or even passing review, I made a personal decision that I would rather not write anything at all than write a bad review of something a person has devoted so much of their life to. (For the record, the author of this book is not anyone I’ve ever heard of or had any personal interaction with. It was sent to me by a well meaning publicist who probably assumed because I was a Christian I would give an automatic glowing review for a fellow Christian.)

When I received a request from Shawn Smucker to review his latest book, “Building a Life out of Words”, I was again flattered and wary. I’ve not read any of Shawn’s previous books, but based upon what I’ve read from him online, I know him to be a talented writer. But what gave me pause was the title of his book.

What I’m about to say will probably not win me any friends in the writing community, but here goes.

I’m not a big fan of writers writing about writing.

Unless they’re of the caliber of Stephen King, Steven Presswood or E. B. White, I consider (probably unfairly) whether they have the gravitas required to give advice about the craft of writing or a writer’s life. And yes, I know I’ve written several stories about writing, but I’m just a blogger. Furthermore, my writing posts are primarily from the viewpoint of the reader, not from that of someone who claims to be an expert in the field.

However, a few pages into Shawn’s book I realized that I had been wringing my hands for naught, because Building a Life out of Words succeeded in accomplishing one of the most important goals (for me, anyway) of compelling writing:

Show, don’t tell.

Shawn doesn’t tell you that you will fail and be rejected, he shows you his own failures and rejections with a raw honesty and humility that I rarely ever see in the written word.

He doesn’t tell you the importance of a supportive wife and family, he shows you how his wife Maile believed in what most spouses might consider a silly pipe dream with stories of sacrifice, loyalty, love and understanding that, even now as I think of them make me want to give that woman a giant hug.

But I don’t want to give the impressions that this book is just about the difficulties of life as a full time writer. Shawn also shares his victories–big and small–and reminds us that perseverance is every bit as important as passion, regardless of whether you aspire to write, paint, perform, run your own business or (insert dream job here).

Using first person narrative, personal journal entries and stories contributed by other writers and bloggers, Building a Life out of Words is less of a blueprint of how to write full time and more a reflective and encouraging handbook for anyone who feels like the life they long for is beyond their grasp.

The book is peppered with encouraging quotes from Shawn, all worthy of clipping and pasting onto your refrigerator, but it was his closing words that I found most encouraging:

This is what I hope for you. Not that you would be known as “that person who gave up their job to do what they loved to do.” As good as that sounds, and as exciting as that would be, that step is just the beginning of a wider, deeper, richer story.

I hope that you will be known as a person who lives. Really lives. Someone who makes decisions, not based on what’s expected, but on what’s possible. Someone who does things, not because everyone else is doing them, but because it’s what you want to do more than anything else in the world.

Now that would be a life worth living.

– Shawn Smucker

Got a dream life waiting?

I dare you to move.

Shawn Smucker is the author of several books, and is currently living out of a forty-five foot trailer, traveling the countryside with his wife Maile and their four children. You can catch up with his comings and going at ShaunSmucker.com

You can order Building a Life out of Words here.

It’s true what they say, that a picture is worth a thousand words.

The penguin exhibit from whence I snapped the above photo immediately planted a seed of a story in my head. Notice the penguin on the left? The one facing the rock? That wasn’t just a serendipitous shot where he momentarily faced away from the rest of his penguin friends. He was standing like that for as long as I observed the exhibit and as far as I know, long after I walked away.

We’ll call him George.

Just below the surface of the water is another penguin.

That’s Daphne. Here she is again, swimming happily around. Entertaining us onlookers to their tiny little world.

Did you know that there are 17 different species of penguins? Yeah, me neither.

George is a Gentoo penguin, Daphne an Adelie. And while certain species can be found in places like New Zealand, Africa, South America and the Galapagos Islands, George and Daphne originally hail from right where you would expect them to: Antarctica. The South Pole.

Both George and Daphne were born in the wild and experienced all the freedom and danger a life in the wild entails. If given a choice, both would have escaped being captured and shipped off to what equates to a giant fish tank many thousands of miles away from their home. They are both victims of their circumstances, with no chance of life outside captivity.

Both are well fed and cared for. Both have the companionship of other penguins just like them.

It is how they view their circumstances that shapes their lives.

George is angry. With his whole life ahead of him–a mate chosen and dreams of raising a little penguin family–that life was stripped away forever. Where he once had miles of open ocean to swim in and the freedom to dine on fish or krill whenever he chose, he is now trapped in a comparatively small, man-made world and fed on someone else’s schedule. His life is now a paid attraction. Watched by strange creatures whose knuckles tap on the glass that separates their freedom from his captivity, he will not be a willing participant in this sideshow. They may have stripped him of a dignified life of freedom, but his dignity is the one thing they will not take from him. He will not choose a new mate. His mate has been chosen thousands of miles away in a life he’ll never know again. George’s dignity comes at a high price: loneliness.

Daphne is resigned to her life in captivity. It’s not her first preference, but she knows this is the only life she’ll ever know. She realizes there is no escape. She was as stubborn as George when she first arrived in this well appointed prison. But after some time, she’s come to understand that these strange creatures looking at her from the other side of the glass are mesmerized by her. Whereas life in the wild meant she was nothing special–just one of thousands of other penguins like her–here she has an audience. They delight at her as she swims by the glass. Her friendliness affords her special private opportunities where she is fed extra fish and receives gentle strokes by grateful onlookers. She has a mate. Perhaps not one she would have chosen for herself, but a mate nonetheless. Happiness is a relative term, really. She is making the best of this strange place she now calls home.

Which penguin is better off? George the rugged realist or Daphne the fun-loving, adaptable one? I can understand and sympathize with both. George may see Daphne as a fool looking at life through rose-colored glasses, whereas Daphne may view George as a bitter, stubborn grump. Not only does how we perceive our own circumstances affect our outlook on life, but so, too does how we view the perceptions others have.

Ah, but we’re not penguins living in captivity.

We may not always choose our circumstances, but we can choose to change them or make the best of them.

That’s not to say changing them is ever easy or that change doesn’t come without cost and consequence to ourselves and others.

But we do have a choice.

George finally takes a plunge.

From USA Today:

STATE COLLEGE, Pa. – They gathered around the bronze statue of their former football coach shortly after the news spread Sunday morning. Less than a mile away from Beaver Stadium, Joe Paterno died at Mount Nittany Medical Center at the age of 85.

I went back and forth about whether to write about the passing of Penn State coach and football legend Joe Paterno. In an era of pay for play college football scandals, Joe Paterno demanded and received more from his players. There is no shortage of praise and admiration for this man who loved the game and loved his players. He did so many things right.

“I wish I had done more.”
– Joe Paterno (in the aftermath of the Jerry Sandusky scandal)

“This is a sad day! Our family, Dottie and I would like to convey our deepest sympathy to Sue and her family. Nobody did more for the academic reputation of Penn State than Joe Paterno. He maintained a high standard in a very difficult profession. Joe preached toughness, hard work and clean competition. Most importantly, he had the courage to practice what he preached. Nobody will be able to take away the memories we all shared of a great man, his family, and all the wonderful people who were a part of his life.”
– Jerry Sandusky (in a statement released by his lawyer)

A bitterly ironic statement coming from the man whose actions and Paterno’s subsequent inaction lead to a sizable black mark on a bigger than life legacy.

In State College, PA football is a religion and Joe Paterno was their god.

But the problem with ordinary gods is that they are fallible. Ordinary gods must make difficult decisions. And sometimes they choose badly.

After 62 years of coaching, serving as a much beloved, respected role model, the last 11 weeks of Paterno’s life were filled with physical and emotional challenges.

“I just can’t help but think he died of a broken heart.”
– Mike Millen, former Penn State player

Many will say that nothing will take away from Paterno’s legacy. But for me, some mistakes are bigger than others. Much bigger. I mourn the loss of a great coach, and my heart aches when I think about the shame and regret that must have shadowed his final days.

If Joe Paterno was the man that his legions of fans believed him to be, I can’t help but wonder if the cancer that ate away at his lungs was miniscule in comparison to the one which crept into his heart on that fateful day in 2002 when he chose not stand up for the least of these.

We fight for those who can’t fight for themselves.

Beyond reputation, beyond glory, there is great honor in doing what is right.

We serve a just and merciful God. I pray for Coach Paterno’s family. May he finally rest in peace.

image courtesy of photobucket.com

This wonderful advancement in technology known as the DVR has distinct advantages over regular television viewing. Chief among them is the ability to fast forward through commercials. I find most commercials annoying, but every now and then one comes along that really gets under my skin. It’s silly, I know. There’s plenty in this world to be concerned about without wasting my energy being bothered by a commercial, but still…it bugs me:

“You value your friends. So does Directv. Meg’s worth a hundred…”

Maybe what really bothers me is the sense that it doesn’t really bother anyone else.

That people are commodities.

That relationships are categorized into “those who can do something for me” and “those who can’t”.

That it’s getting harder to trust that anyone’s motives are unselfish in nature.

Or maybe I’m just grumpy…

image courtesy of photobucket.com

In the first post of this series, The proper care and feeding of elephants, Part one, I promised to present a few examples of these fabled beasts and show how to ensure your elephants continue to thrive and live indefinitely.

I also mentioned that while there are a myriad of conditions which result in the creation of an elephant in the room, there is typically commonality to the environments in which they thrive.

• The owner of the elephant is rarely its master.
• The elephant cannot survive in an environment of open, honest communication where there are no secrets.
• “Shoulds” and “ought to haves” are an elephant’s favorite treats.
• These beasts feed and thrive on guilt, fear, pride and shame.
• Ancient elephants still exist today; many producing offspring through several generations.
• The ideal environment for a large, virile elephant is one where secrets are never openly confessed but are known by both the elephant’s owner and its master.
• Several elephants can co-exist under one roof. The come in many shapes and sizes, as do their masters.

At this point, many who have been living with these elephants in the room may be thinking that it’s high time to face the beasts and get them out of your lives forever. Having some experience in this endeavor, I feel it’s only fair to warn you that the task is not an easy one. Both owners and masters hold strong beliefs that the survival of these elephants is vital to their own survival. The longer these beasts are fed on a steady diet of things left unsaid; of feelings held but not expressed, the stronger they grow:

You must approach the beast with caution, but with strength.

Do not attempt to maneuver around the elephant. It will see this as an act of weakness on your part. Be as direct as possible when addressing an issue.

Try and talk around an issue, and you'll be in trouble. As soon as the beast senses any timidness in your approach to it, it will typically push back immediately.

You must not come to the battle ill prepared. As the saying goes, "Don't send a boy to do a man's job." If you sense your defense is too weak to fight on this particular day, retreat. Live to fight another battle when you're better prepared.

As I said before, they do not go quietly and they will put up a good fight.

Do not underestimate the elephant in the room.

Underestimate it, and your battle is lost before you begin.

But don't give up the fight. You may lose the battle, but the war continues. Maybe you need to bring in the big guns next time.

Editor’s Note: Many thanks to my friend Darlene of Simply Darlene for sending me these photos which inspired this post.

image courtesy of photobucket.com

I’m a big fan of words. Not individual words per se, but when words are strung together in such a way as to affect us deeply. Whether the results manifests themselves in a good laugh, a good cry, a call to action, or some combination of all of the above. Words are powerful.

Two forms of word play I have particular affection for are quotes and song lyrics. I don’t know why. I’ve just always admired a good quote. A small collection of words that conveys a powerful concept. As for lyrics, I think there’s something magical about combining thoughtful words and music, especially when it seems as though the songwriter has somehow peeked into your heart and found a piece of your own story.

Yesterday, with a song that’s been playing in my head for the past several days, I came across a quote that was in opposition with said song. It left me feeling conflicted, because I tend to agree that the words in the song and the words in the quote were both true, even though they were at odds with one another. Here’s the quote:

“It’s better to keep grief inside. Grief inside works like bees or ants, building curious and perfect structures, complicating you. Grief outside means you want something from someone, and chances are good you won’t get it.”
~ Hilary Thayer Hamann (Anthropology of an American Girl)

As I spoke these words aloud though, they felt bitter in my mouth. Grief outside often does indeed mean you want something from someone, and the stiff upper lip side of me tends to agree. “Stop whining,” it says. “Don’t burden someone else with your problems.There are certain things that must remain unsaid. Bury them deep and no one gets hurt,” and on and on.

But those aren’t the words I want to believe. The words I want to believe are these:

Say (by John Mayer)

Take all of your wasted honor
Every little past frustration
Take all of your so-called problems,
Better put ’em in quotations

Say what you need to say [x8]

Walking like a one man army
Fighting with the shadows in your head
Living out the same old moment
Knowing you’d be better off instead,
If you could only . . .

Say what you need to say [x8]

Have no fear for giving in
Have no fear for giving over
You’d better know that in the end
Its better to say too much
Then never say what you need to say again

Even if your hands are shaking
And your faith is broken
Even as the eyes are closing
Do it with a heart wide open

Say what you need to say [x24]

I’ve thought about both the quote and the song quite a bit. Maybe it’s just me, but I think the quote comes from someone who builds walls around herself. Walls built in an effort to insulate her from getting hurt again. I understand that. But I also think those walls don’t really insulate you from pain. They just keep others out, and by doing so, allow you to focus on yourself almost exclusively. (A sure recipe for misery.) They’re also pretty painful for those who are trying to get through them to reach you. And sometimes words left unsaid are every bit as painful as the ones that are. Sometimes moreso.

Are you holding back words you need to share?
“I’m proud of you.”
“I believe in you.”
“You make me smile.”
“Thank you for being there for me.”
“I know this is difficult, but I’m here for you.”
“I wish things could be different.”
“Things are going to be okay.”
“I love you.”
“Hang on.”

I think I’ll vote for reaching out and saying what needs saying. It just might be exactly what someone needs to hear today…

Hey there, people! I’m still vacationing and spending time with family, so I thought I would repost some of my favorite posts from this year this week. If you haven’t read this one, I hope you’ll enjoy it. If you have, maybe you’ll enjoy it again!

image courtesy of photobucket.com

Do you remember the movie “The Truman Show”? It was a story about a man (played by Jim Carrey) whose entire life was a 24 hour a day reality show. Everyone in his life was in on the plot. Everyone, that is, except for Truman. Even though everyone goes to great lengths to conceal from him what’s really going on, he begins to suspect that he is playing a part. A part that he would have not scripted for himself.

Does your life feel like this sometimes? Do you feel like you’re playing a part for everyone else? Does it leave you feeling empty inside? Did you ever stop to consider that even though you’re doing everything everyone else is expecting of you, perhaps God had something else in mind for you? Something that goes against what you’ve always been lead to believe? Can you move beyond religion and move towards faith? Can you imagine beyond the constraints of your current situation? Can you trust that God can make sense of something you can’t seem to envision? I can. Because God can see far beyond what makes sense from our limited perspective.

I dare you to follow your passions

I dare you to lead with your heart

I dare you to believe that dreams can come true

I dare you to move

“Dare You To Move” by Switchfoot

Welcome to the planet
Welcome to existence
Everyone’s here
Everyone’s here
Everybody’s watching you now
Everybody waits for you now
What happens next
What happens next

[Chorus]
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened before

Welcome to the fallout
Welcome to resistance
The tension is here
Tension is here
Between who you are and who you could be
Between how it is and how it should be

[Chorus]

Maybe redemption has stories to tell
Maybe forgiveness is right where you fell
Where can you run to escape from yourself?
Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna go?
Salvation is here

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened
Today never happened
Today never happened before

(This post was orginally run in June, 2008. Funny how I still struggle with some of the same stuff I did back then. Guess I’m pretty thick-headed.)

 Awhile back, my husband bought a tuffshed to store our lawn equipment. But before we’re able to put anything in it, it needs to be painted. I started with the basecoat, but I’ve been putting off the completion of the job. The main reason is that it’s so stinkin’ hot outside. But the other reason is that I knew I would be doing it by myself. Get my husband within 10 feet of a can of paint and he breaks into a cold sweat. There’s an unwritten rule in our home: painting anythingis my department. I’m usually fine with this. When I’m inside, my kids are here to keep me company, or at the very least, I can turn on the radio. In the tuffshed, I stand alone.

The basecoat is finished. I completed it yesterday. And yes, I spend most of the day without any human company. But sometimes, forced seclusion is the only way I get some really good face time with God. Such was the case yesterday. As I was painting, my mind began to wander. For some inexplicable reason, I started to think about the victims of Hurricane Katrina. I remember watching the television in horror as the drama in New Orleans played out, thinking to myself, “How could this happen? Why are these people stranded and dying in the streets of New Orleans?, where is the government?” This post is not about whose to blame. I think there’s plenty of blame to go around. This is about the thousands of refugees who came pouring into Houston in the days and weeks to follow, and the ones I came face to face with right here in my little town just west of Houston.

Like most churches in the area, mine held a meeting to discuss how we could help. Among other things, we set up a clothing and basic toiletries donation center in our church. We also signed up to feed the Katrina survivors who were staying at another local church. A group of volunteers from our church went over once a week and cooked and served lunch for approximately 100 people. It made me feel good that I was able to help out. I came in with such a great attitude, ready to bless the socks off those poor people. Many of the survivors were truly grateful, and again, that made me feel good. But others were not as forthcoming with the thanks yous. They were downright nasty. They complained about what type of food we served and how much they were given. Many just glared at me and others from our church. I’d like to say I didn’t take it personally, but I would be lying. I got pretty indignant about the whole process: “Who do they think they are? Don’t they know we’re trying to help them? They should be grateful they got out of New Orleans alive and have a roof over their heads!” I don’t regret what we did, and I’d do again in a heartbeat. But after my conversation with God yesterday, I think if there’s a next time, my attitude will be different.

While I was painting in the tuffshed, God said to me, “It’s not about you.” Now, I realize that that’s Rick Warren’s line – but hey, He is God after all, so I guess they’re all His lines. I’m pretty hard on Christians who sport the Jesus fish on their car, never miss a Sunday in church, let everyone know that they’re going to heaven, but don’t strive to live a life abiding in Jesus. And then I realized that’s exactly what I am. The fact that I expected some gratitude from those people exposed my heart to me for the first time since it happened. My motives were completely wrong. I wasn’t trying to be the hands and feet of Jesus, I was expecting payment in the form of gratefulness. So, I’m laying this at the foot of the cross, asking God to forgive me for selfish motives and seeking His help to become a true follower of Jesus, and I am convicted by these words:

Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:

Who, being in very nature God,

did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,

but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of servant,

being made in human likeness.

And being found in appearance as a man,

he humbled himself and became obedient to death —

even death on the cross!

Therefore God exalted him to the highest place

and gave him the name that above every name,

that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,

in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,

to the glory of God the Father.

Philippians 2:5-11

Do everything without complaining or arguing,

so that you may become blameless and pure,

children of God without fault

in a crooked and depraved generation,

in which you shine like stars in the universe

Philippians 2:14-15

I want to be shiny…