Being Knit

I came across an article entitled, "I was born in the wrong body" on an internet news site last week. I didn't read the article, but I think it was about people who are born, biologically, as one gender but feel, psychologically, that they are the other gender. My first response to that title was: "Well, who doesn't think that to some degree?" I mean, I have thought for a long time that I was, in fact, born in the wrong body. The body I was meant to have looked a lot more like Angelina Jolie's body than mine. I've thought about a lawsuit, trying to get my body back, but am doubtful that I would win.

I'm not trying to diminish the deep, internal pain that people with gender issues face. I'm just thinking that we all, to some degree, feel out of place in our bodies. Eating disorders are rampant in our culture. The cosmetics industry is a multi-billion dollar industry. Plastic surgery, hair implants, weight loss products and paraphernalia are all hallmarks of our intense dissatisfaction with our physical bodies.

The Bible refers to our mortal bodies as "tents"...giving the impression that this flesh is temporary, at least in the grand scheme of things. There is also mention of us having "resurrection bodies", which is an idea that brings me a particular joy. That doesn't mean our earthly bodies are of no value or that we shouldn't care for them as if they were a gift from God (which, in fact, they are). It's just good to keep in mind the temporary nature of this world. Meaning, even though I don't look like Angelina Jolie now (because, as I mentioned earlier, she stole my body in a top-secret sting operation), someday I will...

I wonder if our dissatisfaction with who we are as people is upsetting to God. He made us all extraordinary, different and beautiful in our own ways. Yet, we spend our lives trying to change who we are, deeply dissatisfied with God's creative genius in our unique situations and bodies.

God’s unique creative process has become a lot clearer to me as I've been learning how to knit in the past few months. Some of the ladies from church formed a group called the "Knit Wits", for knitters in all stages of expertise. I thought I'd give it a try and gracefully bow out if I knitted like a chicken (not sure how chickens knit, but probably better than me). I'm not the world's greatest knitter, but I am starting to get it. There are only two different stitches in knitting: the knit and the purl. Sounds pretty easy. It's not. That's what they told me to get me to start: "Oh Tina, there are only two stitches. You'll pick it up in no time at all". Well, there's a lot more to knitting than that, but I won't bore you. I am amazed at the myriad creations which are possible from the combination of some yarn, two needles, and two basic stitches (note to my family: prepare yourselves for a lifetime of knitted Christmas and birthday gifts!).

My knitting is still very flawed. I make mistakes and then have to backtrack just to figure out what I did...sometimes taking out several rows worth of work in the process. But a master knitter, she can look at what you did and tell you in an instant where it went wrong. Using the same two stitches, a master knitter can create works of beauty that I can't even imagine creating...even if I practiced for years.

And all this, of course, makes me think about God...who could be called the Master knitter of all master knitters. Psalm 139:13 says of God's creating us: "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb."

This makes me think a lot of things, but primarily that God intentionally and uniquely created each one of us. We are distinct, purposed creations. We are each meant to be here, as we are, looking how we do, being who we are, residing in the bodies in which we currently reside...God planned it all from the beginning. You don't accidentally knit something. It is intentional. It takes purpose and planning. We are not here by accident, or mistake. We are here because God chose to knit us into existence. I picture these big cosmic hands knitting me into being...and that makes me smile.

Another thing about knitting: it is very intimate. Both of your hands are involved. You have to hold the yarn and the needles close to your arms, your chest, your eyes. The more complex the pattern, the more detailed attention you have to give to your creation. What is more complex than a human being? I picture this knitting God focusing His whole attention on our creation, delighting in each completed "row" until the creation grows to its fullness. Then He must sit back proudly and say, "I made that. That's good stuff."

I felt pride at my first creation: a blue wash cloth that my mother received as a Mother's Day present. She appropriately gushed over my creation, the way only a mother could. I was amazed that I actually made something. It was so hard just to figure out what I was doing—taking hours and hours of practice before I could even begin to make something. But there I was, an imperfect creator making an imperfect creation--and still somehow, thinking it was wonderful. Imagine God, the Perfect Creator, making us...incapable of making anything but a perfect creation.

So, if you ever feel like you were born in the wrong body--or dislike the particular way you were created--remember that you were knit together by God Himself...and He thinks what you are is good…amazing, even. Who are we to debate God’s opinion of us?

Ten Things I Think, Part Deux

Here are the rest of 10 things I think:

6) Boring Sermons
Even the best preacher has a "bad" Sunday once in a while. Maybe 'bad' isn't the best word choice. It's just that every sermon cannot be exceptional--that would defeat the purpose of exceptional, really. Sunday was such a Sunday for me. Sometimes you know it is going to be a weak sermon going into it: you don't really connect well with the Biblical text, you feel uninspired, you had a difficult week, you can't find the "so what?" factor (which is the part of the sermon that answers the question, "so what does this mean for me and my life?", which is the ultimate question people are asking), etc. There are a lot of reasons why every sermon is not a stellar sermon. Most times, you know it going in...but sometimes, like Sunday, you figure it out mid-sermon.

Any person who is a regular public speaker learns how to "read" an audience. You can tell when people are "with you", when their eyes are totally fixed on yours and it seems that everyone is waiting expectantly for the next word to come out of your mouth. You can also tell when people are doodling, thinking about their shopping lists, or staring at their watches. On those days, you sometimes want to stop, right in the middle, and say: "Would you like me to just stop now and we can all get to Bob Evan's a little bit sooner?"

I felt that "bad sermon" vibe this Sunday. Half the people were with me, but half the people looked fidgety and ready to go...almost before I started. There was one bright spot in the midst of the sermon, our sweet keyboardist, Marla. Every time I looked over at her, she smiled at me, nodded and looked like she was paying attention. On a bad sermon day, you need someone like that to cheer you on...and remind you that maybe someone is actually getting something out of the sermon.

The funny thing is, as I stood at the door after service (to shake hands and kiss babies) one man said to me: "Do you have a telescope straight into my soul?" I said, "Why yes, I do". And we laughed, but apparently, something in the sermon--which felt endless to me--spoke to him. The lesson I learned from this: maybe I am not the most objective critic of my own sermons!

Along those lines, I was in the church library this week with our librarian, Jane, and her husband, Tom. They were going through some books that were donated from another area church. Amidst the boxes of books was a book entitled, "Things to do during a dull sermon". We all laughed and laughed about that, and Tom put it in our stewardship chair's mailbox, since he seems like the kind of guy who would really get a kick out of that. I have a feeling that I will be seeing that book again and again. There must be a lot of dull sermons in order for a book like that to be written...and we have all, unfortunately, experienced them or else it wouldn't be so funny.

7) The Simpsons
I admit it, I am a Simpsons fan. I love the satire of it all. The show is intelligent and sarcastic and multi-faceted, plus most of the episodes are really funny. I realize it is a cartoon and that it is, at times, controversial. Multitudes of others must share my Simpsons affinity, because the show now has 400 episodes to its credit and is going on its 19th season in 2007-2008. One of the great woes of my life concerns the Simpsons movie which is coming out this summer, at the end of July, when I will be in Russia on a mission trip. I am hoping that Moscow might have a special Simpsons premier at the Kremlin or something (pretty positive that isn't an option).

The Simpsons were a big deal when I was in seminary. Every Sunday night was Simpsons night at our house. One time, for the Simpsons season premier, we had a huge party and were going to rent a big screen TV (but it was too expensive for our jobless budgets)...so we hooked up several TVs and turned them all to the same channel, while multitudes crowded into our small living room. It was like watching TV at Best Buy, but it is a beautiful and unfading memory. We even had a Simpsons-marathon sleepover one time, since one of my friends had taped virtually every episode of the Simpsons (this was before every season of every show was instantly released as a set on DVD). Most Seminary conversations contained some Simpsons quote or reference. It was like the Simpsons also attended Asbury Theological Seminary. So now, when I watch the Simpsons, it reminds of community, shared memories, and the closest relationships of my life. It is amazing how a group of little yellow cartoons reminds me of God's greatest blessings to me, but it does...and I love it!

8) Listening
People tell me all the time that I am a really good listener, which makes me laugh. I am very aware of the times I interrupt someone, simply because I want to say something. I am aware of the times my mind starts to wander when someone says things that aren't interesting or exciting. I am aware of times when I don't ask follow-up questions about something that someone obviously wants to talk about. I am not a "great listener".

In reality, I am an average listener. The sad truth: most people are such bad listeners that my average listening skills appear exceptional. People don't listen well. They don't ask questions, they interrupt, they talk about themselves more than anything else, they don't watch for nonverbal cues that communicate more deeply than words, and they don't remember details of things people have shared. I will ask people, all the time, about things they tell me...and they say, "I'm so impressed that you remembered that". It is not hard to remember what people say if you are really paying attention. Most people are not really paying attention. So, when someone does remember things, it stands out. Most people would label themselves as good listeners, but it is kind of like driving. Pretty much everyone things they are a good driver, and yet look at all the accidents. We are not really honest with ourselves.

I have had so many encounters with people where they talk 90 percent of the time. I am not talking about professional counseling sessions, where it is my pastoral role to listen and ask questions. I am talking about normal interactions at meals and outings. One time, I was at a meal with someone who talked about themselves for an hour straight, literally. I really didn't mind, because I like learning about people and enjoy asking questions. The thing that struck me as odd was, after an hour, the person said to me, "All I have done is talk. Now I want to hear about you." And I said, "Well, what do you want to know?"...and within a minute, we were back to talking about her, for another hour. I wasn't bothered by the fact that she talked and I listened. I was bothered that she noticed what was going and then just continued to talk about herself--like it didn't really matter. Most people are unintentionally self-centered...but to intentionally be that way is not as acceptable to me.

Overall, I like listening to people. Listening is a way to show people that they matter and that you care about them. It is a simple way to put love into action. I find people fascinating. I like to hear stories. I like to understand where people are from and how they think. I like to ask questions. It saddens me that the majority of people don't seem to share my affinity for listening to others.

The times that non-listening bothers me most, really, is when I am in a group of people and someone is sharing something significant, and another person jumps in with some tangent that really has nothing to do with what is going on and is generally just about them. We are all so rude to one another. We talk a lot more than we listen. We interrupt, constantly. We talk over each other. We think our opinion is the most important opinion--and must be shared before someone else has the chance to speak. My latest prayer is: "God, when I talk too much, shut me up; teach me how to listen; give me a heart that really cares; make it my greatest desire to show You to others, instead of getting my own way, making my own point, or saying something really profound; Jesus, just get me out of the way until all people see is You".

9) Extreme Makeover: Home Edition
I like to watch "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition". It is nice to see a show that isn't sleazy. I have a little problem with the underlying premise that material things make up for horrible tragedy and pain. Yet, some of the conditions that people live in are just shocking. I'm not sure that flat screen tvs and computers in every room are necessary all the time...but safe, clean, pretty homes and financial help and college tuition...those things are good things. Most of all, people really need Jesus and the community of the church, but that wouldn't be a ratings hit for tv. To me, there should be no need for this show...the Church should step up and be the church. Every community that Extreme Makeover: Home Edition has gone to must have tons of churches within a mile of those homes. I remember hearing in seminary that there were only two counties in the entire USA that did not have at least one United Methodist Church. And that is just the United Methodists. Where are these churches and what are they doing? People are living in squalor and can't feed their families and what are we doing about it?

This past Sunday, the family receiving a home makeover was a single mom who, as a social worker, ended up adopting several kids with AIDS. She talked about the prejudice and hate that her family had experienced. In one scene, at a camp for children with AIDS, one girl (from another family) stood up and talked about getting kicked out of church on Easter Sunday by...get this...THE PASTOR. The pastor asked her and her family to leave, on Easter Sunday, because she had AIDS. This makes me livid! First, no one should EVER, EVER, EVER be asked to leave on a Sunday morning...even if they have leprosy. Jesus pretty much showed us how to treat all people, even people that are scary or may be contagious (which AIDS certainly isn't...not from sitting in the same room...and even if it were, Jesus didn't care about that kind of stuff and neither should His followers).

I have heard of ushers at churches telling people they weren't dressed correctly for church (seriously, not making it up) and have heard other ridiculous things said by people who go to church but obviously don't get Jesus AT ALL...but a PASTOR...a PASTOR...a pastor should know better...a pastor will be judged more harshly for something like that (check the Bible), probably because he/she is supposed to teach/show people what God is like...what a bad example. The girl and her mother still cried as she talked about not being able to go to church on Easter. I am sure that Jesus cried too. If I could find out who that pastor was, they would be hearing from me.

10) Dogs
A day would not be complete without a story about my dogs. I give my dogs these treats called "bully sticks". The lady that I got Pepper from introduced me to them. The dogs love them, they last a long time, and they never choke on them. They are a bit expensive, but if you buy them in bulk (from ebay, nonetheless!) you can get a pretty good deal. When I researched what a bully stick really is, it turns out they are sometimes tendons from bulls, but mostly bull penises (that's right, I said "penis" on my blog).

The whole thing disgusts me to no end, but the dogs are crazy about them. So, I try to make minimal contact with these things...and usually, both the dogs grab them out of my hand faster than the speed of light...and then run away from me like I am going to take the treat back or something. Every once in a while, Pepper kind of looks at the bully stick I am trying to hand her, like she is figuring out if I am giving her something good or bad. You can tell she wants it but she is a little apprehensive. Since I refuse to hold onto those gross, smelly things any longer than I have to, I just drop hers on the floor. The minute the bully stick hits the floor, she snatches it up and runs away, usually to bury it. Sometimes, Pepper forgets where she buried her treat and stares at Ariel eating her treat and then comes to me, whining and looking pitiful, until I go searching for her treat and find it for her. I love Pepper, but she is not the sharpest tool in the shed, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, this whole treat process makes me think about God and the good gifts He tries to give us. I have never once given Pepper a bad treat or something that would hurt her. Everything I give her is either a toy or a treat or some people food. Most times, she freely and eagerly takes what I give. But every once in a while, she looks perplexed, like I am trying to trick her. This frustrates me endlessly because I have never done anything but love and pamper her. And I wonder how many good and wonderful gifts God offers to me--is even offering to me right now--and I refuse because I am scared or because I doubt His goodness. How many times do I hide and hoard the gifts I have been given, "burying" them, scared that it may be the last gift, scared that God will forget about me from now on.

I know how much I love my dogs (it is pitiful, really) and I know that I would never hurt them, intentionally. I occasionally step on one of them because they insist on being within an inch of me at all times...and I feel horrible when it happens. But I am imperfect. God is perfect. He never steps on us, unintentionally or intentionally. He chooses to bless us and form us and lead us and change us...and sometimes refine us...but always with His best for us in mind. I wonder why we are so distrusting at times. Why do we expect God to be anything but overwhelmingly good to us?

10 things I think, Part One

I have a friend named Bryan Bucher, who has a blog (http://www.bryansoffice.blogspot.com). His blog inspired me to start blogging, though he is much more committed to consistent blogging than I am. (What can I say? I am a work in progress). Bryan has a feature on his blog called "Ten Things I Think I Think". I am blatantly stealing his idea, but I am calling mine "Ten Things I Think" so as to not totally plagiarize and because I am pretty sure that I do, in fact, think these things. I've contemplated the "10 Things" idea before, but was never certain I actually thought about 10 things all at the same time--at least not 10 things anyone would want to read about...but I'm stepping out on a limb, thinking that my blogging silence has stirred up a longing in my faithful readers for any kind of entry, even one filled with ten random brain trails. Here's hoping I'm right!!!

1) My dependence on computers

My computer was broken recently, for almost a week. It was torture. I had no access to the internet, other than the occasional trip to the library or via my cell phone (where I can check email but can't send it without taking an hour to type one sentence). The amazing thing: I got a lot more accomplished. I cleaned my house (not completely, but more than I have in a while). My dogs and I took longer walks. I actually made some phone calls (those who know me well realize I am not much of a phone person...that passed with the pre-teen years). I read some of the gazillion books I own and some magazines that I subscribe to. It was a great week. But then the broken computer part came in, and I have yet again become a slave to my computer. It is amazing how much time I can waste looking things up on the internet, as if I need to know all the details about any subject I see on tv or hear in conversation. For instance, the movie "Erin Brockovich" was on TV recently and I caught the last few minutes of it. Suddenly, I needed to know more about this Erin Brockovich and what she was doing now. I watched a movie about Linda McCartney a couple of weeks ago...same thing...I needed to know more details. So off to the internet I went. I now know a lot of useless details about both women that really profit me nothing, but it was interesting.

Thinking about John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, I realize why he was such a prolific author, social activist, tireless preacher, etc. He didn't have a computer or internet or a tv. If I lived 100 years ago, I would be a lot more productive. But I guess I'm willing to trade a little productivity for electricity and indoor plumbing.

2) shaving??? what is that about?

We went to an indoor water park today with our church youth group. It was a long winter and this was my first official "summer" event...meaning it was time to shave the legs. Being in hibernation mode this winter, I'd really packed on the hair. In addition, my grandma used to tell me I looked like a "hairy Jewish man" if I went too long without shaving. She was always one to tell it like it is! Needless to say, this whole de-shedding process took a good 45-50 minutes...during which, I thought, "Whose idea was this shaving thing? Who decided that bare skin is better than furry skin? Why wasn't I born in Eastern Europe?". The internet probably has answers to some of these questions. Another thought I had was about shaving as an Olympic event. I mean, you have to be incredibly coordinated and able to stand on one leg for significant amounts of time without falling over. You have to contort your body into odd position and configurations just to reach all the hair that can be seen when wearing a bathing suit. I was so tired afterwards I wanted to take a nap, yet I felt like I had accomplished something significant...and that is why I am sharing it publically.

3) Why I will never be bishop, D.S., or in any official leadership role in the United Methodist Church...

Today, we had our District's "Spring Conference". This is a time for all the people attending annual conference--and any other interested parties--to gather together for worship, information, some business, and to get all the materials you need for annual conference. Due to our youth water park trip, I had a limited window of time this afternoon to attend the conference (let me point out that I had this water park trip planned before I knew the date for district conference). . If everything went according to plan, I could be at the conference for half an hour, at the most--and they never start on time, so I would have been there for 20 minutes of actual meeting. The only reason I was planning on attending for such a short time was to get my annual conference materials--a purely utilitarian purpose; I may not be a perfect person, but I am an honest one! With the shaving extravaganza that took place, I was running late. When all was said and done, I would have been at the conference for 15 minutes...and I would have been wearing sport pants, a t-shirt, and flip flops (which I'm sure the district superintendent would find very noteworthy). So, I decided not to go and called some of my wonderful lay people to have them pick up my coveted annual conference materials...and I just went straight to the water park, where people were already arriving half an hour before our designated meeting time. There were a lot of precipitating factors for my lateness and consequent absence from the district conference, but ultimately, I missed it because I was shaving. One of the many reasons I will never be bishop.

4) Kissing pigs...some things are more exciting in theory than in actuality

To raise money for Relay for Life, our church had a "kiss the pig" competition. Whoever had the most money donated to them would kiss a pig after church (today). This is not the first "kiss a pig" fundraiser that I have brainstormed. It is a sure sign that I grew up in the city and not the country--and a sign that I am obsessed with pigs. I asked a farmer today, after church, if he was going to stay and watch the pig kissing. He said, "I've kissed so many pigs in my life time, it's no big deal to me". An interesting sentiment.

Our Pastor Emeritus, Pastor Chuck, raised the most money...and for his efforts, he was forced to kiss a pig on the church lawn after service today. I was so excited about the pig kissing, and especially excited that, in this fundraiser, I was not the one kissing the pig (though I have done it before). There were a lot of people and I couldn't really see the "kiss" very well. The pig wasn't really into the whole thing and looked rather traumatized afterwards. I talked to the poor pig and said, "You know, in the grand scheme of your life, this is definitely not the worst thing that is going to happen to you". Poor gal...she's going to the fair in June. It's really sad, especially considering that I just watched the movie "Charlotte's Web" and apparently, there are happy endings available for pigs...at least in the movies. All in all, pig kissing seems to be more exciting in anticipation than in actuality. That's probably true of many things in life.

5) Water parks and Jesus

Being at the indoor water park all afternoon/evening, I got the chance to see a lot of little kids playing in water. The place we were at (Ft. Rapids, right here in Columbus) has this huge water container that periodically dumps tons (maybe not actual tons, but A LOT) of water--from about 50 feet up--onto the kids waiting eagerly below. When it is about to tip over, the kids (of all ages and sizes) come running. The funniest part was the screaming...childlike, excited, anticipatory screaming. As I watched the kids, I noticed that the screaming always occurred just before the water hit them, not when it actually hit them. Every time, without fail, the giggly screaming would occur just before the water hit. They were so excited. You couldn't help but smile.

One of the little boys from church, named Hamilton, was there with his mom and older siblings. I don't think he'd ever been to a place like that. His eyes were the size of pizzas as he looked at all the slides and things to do. When his mom agreed to go down one of the slides with Hamilton, he looked so giddy, it seemed he might explode. He bounced up and down with excitement...and that was his reaction to just about everything, the whole time.

All those kids, and especially Hamilton, made me think about Jesus and what he says about little children...how we are supposed to become like them in order to understand what Jesus is all about. I am sure Jesus meant a lot of things, on a lot of different levels, when He said that. But today makes me think that part of what Jesus meant has to do with excitement and expectancy...about facing life knowing that God is good and expecting that God will be good to you...free to love, laugh, dance, and play in the water...to look foolish and funny and wet and not care what anyone thinks...to jump up and down with joy and anticipation at what is coming next, around the bend...completely trusting that the One who holds the future knows what He is doing. Mostly, today made me want to laugh more and play more...and not take myself as seriously as I do sometimes...to learn how to live in lavish expectance of continuous grace.

Stay tuned for "Ten Things I Think, Part Deux"...where I will share thoughts 6-10…hopefully coming tomorrow to a blog near you!

3 Prayers

I offer 3 prayers to bless your night:

A Prayer by Mother Teresa
Dear Jesus, Help me to spread Thy fragrance everywhere I go. Flood my soul with Thy spirit and love. Penetrate and possess my whole being so utterly that all my life may only be a radiance of Thine. Shine through me and be so in me that every soul I come in contact with may feel Thy presence in my soul. Let them look up and see no longer me but only Jesus. Stay with me and then I shall begin to shine as you shine, so to shine as to be a light to others.

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Another prayer by Mother Teresa

Lord, help us to see in your crucifixion and resurrection an example of how to endure and seemingly to die in the agony and conflict of daily life, so that we may live more fully and creatively. You accepted patiently and humbly the rebuffs of human life, as well as the tortures of your crucifixion and passion. Help us to accept the pains and conflicts that come to us each day as opportunities to grow as people and become more like you. Enable us to go through them patiently and bravely, trusting that you will support us. Make us realize that it is only by frequent deaths of ourselves and our self-centered desires that we can come to live more fully; for it is only by dying with you that we can rise with you.

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A prayer by Thomas A Kempis
Give us, O Lord, steadfast hearts that cannot be dragged down by false loves; give us courageous hearts that cannot be worn down by trouble; give us righteous hearts that cannot be sidetracked by unholy or unworthy goals. Give to us also, our Lord and God, understanding to know you, diligence to look for you, wisdom to recognize you, and a faithfulness that will bring us to see you face to face.

Facing Giants

I attended the Women of Faith (www.womenoffaith.com) conference last weekend in downtown Columbus. It was a wonderfully refreshing time for me, as I seldom get to just sit back and be a recipient of great Biblical teaching. Each person that attends such a conference could probably choose one speaker who stood out the most to her…the one who spoke mostly deeply into her particular situation and soul. For me, that person was different than I expected. The speakers were announced ahead of time, as was their theme: amazing freedom. I didn’t expect Max Lucado to be the one who spoke to me most profoundly, but he was. (Though Max Lucado is not a “woman” of faith, he was—for some reason—a speaker at the all-female conference).

I have to confess, I am a bit of a Christian literature snob. I like to critique Christian books, because many of them seem so superficial to me. What they say is not bad, it just doesn’t go deep enough for my taste. (In reality, I’m probably not as deep as I imagine myself to be!) My need to look disdainfully down my nose at some of the Christian sub-culture’s writings is changing, especially after last weekend. You see, Max Lucado has not escaped my critiques in the past.

I have read many of Lucado’s books and, while they have a nice devotional feel, they don’t plunge the depths like C.S. Lewis, A.W. Tozer, and Francis Schaeffer (just to name a few of the great authors who brilliantly unravel and proclaim the mysteries of the Christian life and experience). I will publicly admit, however, that I once received a “Max Lucado Award” from the Women’s Chorale, during my freshman year at Wheaton College. This was precipitated by my frequent use of Max’s books as material for devotions before choir practice. Like I said earlier, I’ve always admired his work for its devotional appeal, but that is where my admiration stopped…until last weekend.

Max was the keynote speaker on Friday night of the conference. I was instantly struck by his warmth and authenticity. If I had to give the same talk/sermon over and over again, all across the country, I wouldn’t have appeared so gracious and kind! You can’t fake caring. Somehow, Max seemed genuinely concerned for the souls of each of the 20,000 women present that night. He smiled a lot, but didn’t come across as cheesy. I have seen so many smiley, plastic-like mass communicators who want to seem authentic, but the harder they try, the more of a caricature they become. That was not the case with Max. He meant what he said. I liked that about him. As he spoke, I thought, “That’s the kind of guy I would want as my pastor”. Somehow, all of his fame has not gone to his head; he has remained a faithful servant of Jesus. There are some Christian speakers I hear and think, “They say pretty words, but I wouldn’t want to share my darkest wounds and fears with them; in fact, I’d be scared to talk to them”. With Max Lucado, I felt he was someone I could go to coffee with and it would be like talking with an average, every-day, normal person who passionately loves Jesus. I liked that about him.

Max spoke about the “giants” in our lives. He has a book out called “Facing Your Giants”. The talk probably came from there. I like his stuff better as a sermon. You can tell God made Max to be a pastor. His pastor’s heart shined through the whole time. Maybe that’s why he was instantly trustable in my eyes…why his words got past the barriers I often place around my heart.

You see, I’ve been going through a season of giants, myself. Max’s words spoke straight into my situation. Now I get why people often say to me on a Sunday: “Did you give that sermon just for me?” There are some messages that seem tailor-made for our unique situations. So it was with the idea of giants.

Max talked about David and his battle with Goliath, the giant. David, apparently, picked up 5 stones from a stream as part of his arsenal against the giant (a detail mentioned in Scripture that I somehow passed over). I think Max made 5 points, one for each of the stones (very clever, I thought), but that is not what spoke to me. The idea of having 5 stones stuck with me. At some point, Max read Scripture concerning Goliath’s siblings. The Bible lists at least 4 brothers that Goliath had, but there may have been more (and what if Goliath was the runt of the family?). Max said David had no way of knowing it would end with Goliath. For all David knew, the minute he slew Goliath, 4 more giants could have come up over the mountain, looking to avenge their slain brother. David would have had the ammunition to face them, with his 5 stones. It made me think of all the times in life when you are facing something that feels insurmountable, and then even more overwhelming things happen on top of it. Somehow, just naming that reality helped me (the reality that we might have more than one giant in our lives; or the reality that, the minute we conquer one problem, several more may rise up in place of the slain one). It is nice to be reminded that other people have faced giants…and that they have won the battle! But more importantly, Max kept reiterating the idea of letting God fight your battles and standing firm in the Lord—that we can only slay the giants through God’s power, never through our own. I often try to do it all in my own strength—and always get pummeled by the giants. That reminds me of the title of a book by Ellsworth Kalas: “If Experience is Such a Good Teacher, Why Do I Keep Repeating the Course?”. You’d think I’d know better by now that I can “do all things through Christ who strengthens me”, not through my own efforts. But I forget!

So, blogging friends, in my giant-fighting absence from my blog in recent weeks, I pray that you have experienced more and more of God’s presence. May you find Him more than capable of handling anything that comes your way, even the giants that seem so big. They ARE big, but not from God’s vantage point. He has a different definition of what “big” is. I pray for me, and for you, for new eyes, to see God’s perspective on the situations of our lives. May we stand firm in God’s strength and find that He never fails us.