Priorities

Today in my quiet time, I was reading 1 Kings 3, the passage where King Solomon asks God for wisdom to govern his people. It's one of my favorite stories from the Old Testament. In it, Solomon was just crowned king of Israel, and he was concerned with the responsibility that he faced. Rather than pray for riches or death for his enemies, he asked God for wisdom to govern his people properly. God responded in force, making Solomon the wisest king of the Old Testament and increasing his wealth many times over.

So what does this mean to me? It's one of my favorite stories because it admonishes us to check our heart conditions. Often, we're praying for wealth, power or status with little concern for God's Kingdom. Jesus tells us to "Seek first the Kingdom of God ... ." So we see in scripture that God rewards those who keep their priorities in order.

Sadly, it can be tough to maintain. Later, we read that Solomon's heart eventually drifted from the Lord, and the Kingdom was torn in two after he died. It's a reminder that "seeking first the Kingdom of God ... " isn't a sprint, but a marathon.

Weary of worry

These days, there's no shortage of things to worry about. Since I've worked at a newspaper, I've been acutely aware of this. I don't have to remind you of the headlines that come across my desk every day. That's on top of the personal problems you might face on a daily basis. Worry is the one natural resource Americans won't run out of any time soon.

So when Jesus talked about worry, he chided followers for getting caught up in it. Perhaps the most famous admonition about worry is Matt. 6:34: "So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today." I'm reminded of how much I struggle with that scripture — especially when God requires a faith that's almost reckless by worldly standards.

God wants us to walk a tightrope of faith that stretches across the Grand Canyon of doubt. There's no safety net — just the reassurance of a Heavenly Father that he will catch us if we fall. He wants us to be 100 percent vulnerable and dependent on him. From an outsider's perspective, it's moronic. Some folks can trust God with a few prayers, but they're hedging their bets. They'll still continue to battle the problem from a carnal standpoint.

I continue to struggle in terms of tithing. God wants 10 percent, but I'm reluctant to give at all. This time, however, I realize that I can't let worry and fear stop me from living the life God wants me to. I'm worried and stressed, but I'm working on giving that up to Jesus. After all, one of the things that Jesus said to his disciples was, "Ye of little faith." I'm thinking it wasn't a term of endearment, but a sigh that grieved his spirit. I say it's time to keep pressing ahead.

A warm welcome back. Again.

After being a prodigal son several times over, I'm tempted to think that I've burned through my last chance. Humanly speaking, it's easy to get angry at someone who breaks off a relationship repeatedly. Divorce lawyers bank their careers on this practice. Yet when I come back to Jesus, I'm surprised at the warmth of the reception when I finally return. And that's just from the church.

The prodigal son parable is one of my favorites because of its redemptive message. The son steals off with half his fathers wealth, blows it all on prostitutes and booze and comes back stinking of pig feces. Instead of brow-beating the son, the father throws his arms around him and throws a huge party.

On one hand, I'm thankful for a God who's willing to show such mercy and forgiveness. On the other, I'm ashamed at my pride and ungratefulness. I'm grateful for God's mercy, but I can't get caught like a bridesmaid without enough oil for her lamp.

Back again

I haven't looked at my last post to see when I last wrote it, but it's been an embarrassingly long time. So what happened? Needless to say, I slipped off the spiritual wagon for a while. It's humbling to admit that I failed so quickly.

Let's rewind: About August 2010, Christ got a hold of my heart in a mighty way. It was like being born again — again! It was as if years of spiritual malaise had been erased, and I was finally making Kingdom headway again. I joined a home group, went to church weekly, did daily quiet time and devotionals, allowed God to change my attitude and speech — I was really gaining ground. Yet something happened during the winter. The spark got snuffed almost as quickly as it had ignited. I felt like Matt. 9:22 had happened in my life ("The seed that fell among the thorns represents those who hear God’s word, but all too quickly the message is crowded out by the worries of this life and the lure of wealth, so no fruit is produced.")

I spent the better part of that time since then living in a place of indifference and cynicism. Once you shut Christ out of your life, it's easy to ignore how he's blessed you. I wrote off a lot of blessings in my life as coincidence. I was wandering dangerously close to agnosticism or atheism. Of course, I don't mean to disrespect those who don't believe in God, but I know who I am, and that person is in Christ.

So what makes me think I believe in this "God stuff" anyway? Why bother running back into Jesus' arms? The answer is simple: Because I know he's real. I know the change that happens when I'm close to him. I know how I push people away when I turn from him. I know the mistakes that I make when I don't bother to pray, attend church or study scripture.

So I'm left with a harsh reality: I've failed. Consistently and totally. Willingly. Yet I'm reminded of Luke 17:4: "Even if that person wrongs you seven times a day and each time turns again and asks forgiveness, you must forgive.” God expects us to forgive each other, even if it's seven times a day. So how much more can we expect God to forgive us and take us back when we're willing to humble ourselves?

There's a saying that always helps keep me going, even though it's cliche: A failure isn't someone who falls down, but someone who refuses to get back up. I may have failed in the past, but I refuse to be a failure.

My Christmas conundrum

For the past 10 years or so, I've struggled to enjoy Christmas. From a child's perspective, it's great: You get nearly two weeks off from school, a mythical fat guy brings you free stuff and your biggest responsibility is to keep your snowman from melting. As an adult, however, the holidays are far different. In the past seven years, I've only had a few Christmases off, and holidays usually mean picking up the slack from vacationing co-workers. Not only that, but the typical holiday fare about commercialization and the "war on Christmas" pops up in the stories I help publish. Legalistic Christians say "merry Christmas" simply to be spiteful. The holidays also bring up unpleasant memories of the last couple of months of my father's life. I had to watch him battle cancer, one of the most painful illnesses one can get. So you'll forgive me when I say that I haven't looked forward to Christmas since I was in high school.

My spiritual life has grown and changed significantly since then, and, accordingly, I view Christmas through a different pair of eyes. I saw a holiday crafted by the Catholic Church in order to accommodate former pagans. They didn't have an exact date of Christ's birthday, so they took a pagan god's and gave it to Jesus. Today, most mainstream Christians still celebrate Dec. 25 for Jesus, in spite of its pagan origins. Hopefully you knew most of that anyway.

Let's get this straight: I still don't think packing malls and spending tons of money we don't have to buy Chinese-made crap for people we don't like honors Christ. I don't care how many retailers try to wrap their agenda in a sparkly package and sell it the day after Thanksgiving to a crowd ready to trample each other to death. But I'm learning that a lot of things are a matter of attitude. We teach in the church that love is a choice. So is having a good mindset. In Romans 14, Paul says, "For the Kingdom of God is ... living a life of goodness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. If you serve Christ with this attitude, you will please God, and others will approve of you, too." Attitude is everything.

So I've taken it upon myself to look at the Christmas holiday not with ridicule, but with acceptance and joy. In the same chapter of Romans, Paul says, "So let’s stop condemning each other." In other words, if someone genuinely enjoys Christmas as a day to honor Christ's birth, I'm not acting in love if I bust out my ol' Ebeneezer routine. Who am I to say that person is wrong?

However, we're not to conform to the customs of this world. That means analyzing every tradition and seeing if it lines up with Christ's commands. If downing a couple bottles of Jim Beam and dancing naked in a lampshade at the company Christmas party is part of your tradition, perhaps it's time to amend that. If slugging soccer moms in Target on Black Friday while clawing for an iPod is your idea of Christmas cheer, perhaps you should re-evaluate your priorities. And Santa Claus? Well, I hate to break it to you folks, but he's about as close to a modern-day pagan god as we're going to get.

I think if you embrace the good and toss away the rubbish, you'll be able to make it through Christmas without being hauled away to the nuthouse. At least that's how I was able to survive.

Stuck like glue

I'm constantly reminded of the need to stick to Christ. John 15:5 ("Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing.") is one of the most relevant scriptures in my life right now.

Since most of us don't live an agrarian lifestyle, I like to use the analogy of a light bulb. By itself, it really doesn't serve a purpose. It's not until it's connected to a live light socket does it become useful. It's a lot like my life. When I remove myself from the Source, aka Christ, my life doesn't shine like it should. I don't have the power to maintain the level of holiness in my life that I need. I don't feel the drive or conviction to push myself to do what should be done.

I think what's dogged much of my 11-year walk with Christ is the feeling that my salvation depends on how little I swear or look at porn or how much I pray or read scripture. I don't think, until recently, my heart attitude has been addressed, and my walk has suffered accordingly. This is why staying close to the Source is important.

What me worry?

I'm ashamed to say how often I worry. You're probably ashamed to admit it, too. Why? Worry seems like a natural part of life — like smelling the flowers or laughing at a joke. For a Christ follower, however, it's never considered a virtue. In Matthew 6:19-34, Jesus unloads perhaps the most profound statements about worry in the entire Bible.

Often, I worry about money and finances. It's not easy to admit, but it's true. I believe money is one of the biggest battlegrounds in our hearts — it's why Jesus mentioned it so often. Greed is a powerful force. It destroys lives, starts wars, corrupts good men and can eventually bring entire nations to ruin. If we can turn away from greed's influence in our lives, I believe God can do incredible things through us.

Turning my finances over to Christ is one of the most difficult things I've done as a believer. It's where the rubber meets the road. It separates the real followers from the fakers. It's a matter of me saying, "I really believe in this Jesus stuff." Of course, it's not going to save anyone, and you can never buy your salvation. But it's a matter of giving back to Christ in an attitude of thanksgiving and obedience.