Holy handbags, Robin!!!

Tonight I sang loud and off-key to God. There may have been some dancing around too. One of my children eyed me with a bit of alarm. Notable only because you would think they all would.

I also washed my purse today.

Not seeing the connection? Well, first let me explain that I am not a Gucci/baby Louie gal. My purses are cheap, washable, frequently seconded to me.

They are the receptacles of diapers (new), hair bands, gum (also new), keys, money, action figures, snacks, beverages, electronics, random papers.

Crumbs, a lot of crumbs…

I have been feeling itchy because I knew that my current purse avatar was the victim of a public bathroom floor incident that I will not shock you by explaining.

Just trust me: unhygienic.

So I feel good. Brownie crumbs evacuated, wallet transplanted. Purse clicking noisily in a midnight wash.

Cleaner.

I am aware that the God I trust and love is holy. Really clean.

I have a few kids who are well versed in superhero lore. So I was thinking about how a good comic book superhero needs an Achilles heel. And that led to thoughts of the only real superhero.

No Achilles heel–wait! There is a weakness. Not in him, us. We are his weakness. We are his mortal heel.

And he lets himself bleed out in holiness to bath us in his eternity.

That is clean. That is holy.

So I worship–messy and loud. Because he has rescued me. Once and for all eternity.

The closest you get to f…

Mark 5:9 (NIV)
Then Jesus asked him, “What is your name?” “My name is Legion,” he replied, “for we are many.”

Huh. Like Jesus didn’t already know his name.

Jesus knew his name.
Jesus still knows his name.
Jesus knew all of his names.
Jesus knew their names.
Jesus knew them before they were shadowy inhabitants of a man in a graveyard.
Jesus knew when they were light.
Jesus knows this story.
He knows it all.
He is the eternal God incarnate.

So why ask the guy’s name?

I read today that Nokia was going to begin selling 3D kits to customers to “print” phone cases.

I saw a picture today of a small USB drive with a TB memory.

This is a story about before and after.

This is when and how the world changes.

God, the Poet asks the question because he knows the answer but we don’t. The guy doesn’t. The Legion has an idea. They know they are dealing with Eternity, Fire, and Change.

They are about to be kicked out.

But the question to ponder before we look further is–how did they get in?

Who let them in to the man’s messed up heart?

He did. Once called different names–pride, lust, ambition, lies. They walked in through the door….

And gradually took over.

What do you want with me?

Mark 5:6-10 (NIV)
When he saw Jesus from a distance, he ran and fell on his knees in front of him. [7] He shouted at the top of his voice, “What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? Swear to God that you won’t torture me!” [8] For Jesus had said to him, “Come out of this man, you evil spirit!” [9] Then Jesus asked him, “What is your name?” “My name is Legion,” he replied, “for we are many.” [10] And he begged Jesus again and again not to send them out of the area.

The light is beginning to break through. I love this guy. I know he is a mess at the beginning of the story.

At the beginning of his story he was a beautiful baby. He was a cute toddler. Somewhere in his life things went horribly wrong and they stayed wrong probably for a long time.

By the time Jesus finds him among the dead he is dead himself–no one wants him.

But Jesus is all about resurrection. He changes everything and he does it in a way that no one else can.

Notice the man’s language is even possessed. He alternates between I and we because he is swarming with demons.

2000!?!

No match for God.
Light is coming…

Manti and Lance

Manti T’eo is spinning. So is Lance Armstrong. Of course they are at different levels. Armstrong has lied for years, drawing in his intimates to a destructive web of lying and doping. And we paid him for this.

Make no mistake, Manti is doing what he is doing because he does not want to lose his grip on years of money and fame. But when he “huddle” with advisers to decide what to say and do he is spinning.

I know this for one simple reason. No one needs to “spin” the truth. It is what it is and it is simple to tell it. Painful. Humiliating. Exposing. But very, very simple.

What Lance does not see is the ordinary people whose marriages and families he has harmed by setting himself up as a superman. There is only one superman and his name is Jesus. And Lance has conspicuously denied the healing existence and power of God.

Lance has let his son down. Imagine being a kid and defending your father against accusations that are in fact true. Heartbreaking.

The truth remains: integrity is more important than money, fame, power or winning.

To borrow a phrase from the world’s most famous loser–

what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his own soul?

Wake up boys, your souls are calling.

Father’s Day in the graveyard

This is one of my favorite stories.

I know too many people like this guy. In fact I know a couple who make him look like a boy scout.

Mark 5:1-5 (NIV)
They went across the lake to the region of the Gerasenes. [2] When Jesus got out of the boat, a man with an evil spirit came from the tombs to meet him. [3] This man lived in the tombs, and no one could bind him any more, not even with a chain. [4] For he had often been chained hand and foot, but he tore the chains apart and broke the irons on his feet. No one was strong enough to subdue him. [5] Night and day among the tombs and in the hills he would cry out and cut himself with stones.

Read his symptoms carefully–loud, violent, scary, self-harming. Just like the rest of us, this man has a story, and not a fun one. Abused and neglected? Maybe? Into violent games? Maybe? Dangerous to others? Definitely.

No hope. No national mental health initiatives to save him.

There are 2000 reasons why he has chains and lives in the graveyard.

Now imagine you find out he has a little baby with him out there…

Would you worry? Would you call for help? Send him cloth diapers? Try to intervene?

What would you do for the child?

Dipped in what?!

Imagine an eccentric old woman had written a book about how you could sacrifice a couple of niggling character elements (pride, lust, gluttony..) for endless wealth.

And she decided as a public service to leave these unassuming books on car windows at truck stops, parking lots, parks.

Then imagine you found one on your windshield.. Would you open it? Read the back cover? Or would you do this—

Pick it up like it was covered in bat guano. Wrinkle your nose. Exclaim with distaste–what is this? And leave it on the sidewalk.

That’s my parable’s parable. Jesus doesn’t have to tell his stories. And he doesn’t have to make stuff up.

We are the ones who need ears to hear–

Mark 4:9-20 (NIV)
Then Jesus said, “Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear.” [10] When he was alone, the Twelve and the others around him asked him about the parables. [11] He told them, “The secret of the kingdom of God has been given to you. But to those on the outside everything is said in parables [12] so that, “ ‘they may be ever seeing but never perceiving, and ever hearing but never understanding; otherwise they might turn and be forgiven!’ ” [13] Then Jesus said to them, “Don’t you understand this parable? How then will you understand any parable? [14] The farmer sows the word. [15] Some people are like seed along the path, where the word is sown. As soon as they hear it, Satan comes and takes away the word that was sown in them. [16] Others, like seed sown on rocky places, hear the word and at once receive it with joy. [17] But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away. [18] Still others, like seed sown among thorns, hear the word; [19] but the worries of this life, the deceitfulness of wealth and the desires for other things come in and choke the word, making it unfruitful. [20] Others, like seed sown on good soil, hear the word, accept it, and produce a crop—some thirty, some sixty, some a hundred times what was sown.”

Dear Sunshine,

I went walking today. It reminded me of the years I spent in the woods with your mama. She howled and then your uncle howled. Then she howled again. Fun times…

They just cried a lot. Now I understand it better. Then I just aimed to outlive it. Now there is you. Your Daddy looks so happy, so proud and a bit disheveled but I hope he is crazy about you. I hope the whole world is crazy about you all the time.

I have been praying for you. That won’t stop. Nor will it be the first time I have prayed desperately for a baby I love.

Hold tight to God’s hand.

Gladiator Sport

I am not a football fan and I truly dislike the NFL, it’s sex-driven advertising and superfluous cheerleaders, but I watched today’s game between the Baltimore Ravens and the Denver Broncos with interest. They are both good teams. The Broncos were the clear favorite–playing at their home stadium at their native altitude in bone-chilling snow flurries.

It was a good game. By the middle of the first overtime I was convinced that both teams could walk away with a sense of victory. They played well.

As a mother I watch these highly trained, gifted athletes pound each other and I worry about the damage they are doing, especially to their heads. I worry also about their hearts. It can be tough on one’s soul to be rich and famous. When you watch a game like the one played tonight in Denver you must respect the power and skill of the men on the field. But I want more than that. I would trade NFL gladiator football for a professional flag league, if I knew that what each man did off the field was as brave and as sold-out as what they do on the field.

Lately with scandals ranging from Notre Dame to Penn State and individual players facing charges of recklessness, violence or worse, we all need to examine our allegiances. We cheer for teams, we will them to win, and sometimes we look the other way when they use their fame and talent as an excuse for terrible things.

The NFL is quick to admonish that the use of their game footage is for the private use of their viewers, however this is a public, national past time. We need to applaud the skill and talent of brave men, and make no excuses for our athletes when they fail at things much more important than carrying a ball across a very long field.