Hope is in the Forecast

When she was just a girl

she expected the world

But it flew away from her reach

so she ran away in her sleep

and dreamed of paradise...

Every time she closed her eyes.

"Paradise" by Coldplay

I've been hearing that Coldplay song on the radio a lot lately. Like most of their songs, I like the sound and groove of it, but it took me some time to catch the meaning of the lyrics. It wasn't until recently that it hit me. The girl in the song isn't different than most of us. Throughout our lives we develop dreams and expectations. And inevitably, we experience disappointment. Usually that first taste of disappointment comes as a child when the gift you wanted wasn't under the tree for Christmas. Though we get accustomed to not having things our way all the time, that doesn't lessen the sting of unfulfilled expectations.

For some of us, we may not be living the lives we expected. We still don't have that dream job or that desired salary. Our marriage isn't as smooth as we expected it to be, or we didn't envision ourselves still being single. You may have lost your job, lost your house, gotten a divorce. Somehow, the storms of life crept up and they weren't in your forecast.

They weren't in the forecast because we feel as if we've done the proper things to avoid them. We follow Christ, we live by faith, we love our neighbor, and all that Christian stuff. We weren't expecting a perfect life, but maybe one better than what we have at the moment--and it doesn't help that there's no glimmer of sunshine on the radar either. In essence, we feel like we deserve better.

The truth is, we deserve what everyone else on this earth has gotten since Adam and Eve: The sun rises on the evil and the good, and it rains on the righteous and unrighteous (Matt. 5:45); it's not like God didn't warn us. This doesn't mean that there aren't benefits and rewards for trusting God, nor is having high expectations pointless. It just means we will experience conflict and discomfort along the way. A hell of a lot of it, too. The key to navigating the winds of disappointment is to not abandon hope. You may misplace it for a moment, as I have on many recent occasions, but don't abandon it.

The Bible says that hope is one of three virtues that will remain forever. I don't understand why hope is necessary in Heaven--what is there to hope for in paradise?--but I trust God knows what He's talking about. There must be something about it that has tremendous value, even beyond this temporary existence. One definition of hope gives some perspective on it:

hope - a person in which expectations are centered.

When our expectations are centered on God, we will truly never be disappointed. The conditions will change. Life will take unfavorable turns. But when our hope is in Him, we can trust that events will turn out for the best.

Even that girl in the Coldplay song eventually realized the power of hope: "So lying underneath those stormy skies, she'd say, 'oh, I know the sun must set to rise.' This could be Paradise.'"

"Anyone who trusts in Him will never be disappointed." Romans 10:11

Stop Waiting on God, He's Waiting On You

I'm not into reading instruction manuals. I'm sure companies put a lot of work into them, and they're helpful, but for most products, I like to tinker with the device myself in order to figure it out. It's more adventurous that way. Seriously, if you owned one smartphone, do you really need to read instructions on how to use your new one? Same thing with software, DVRs, TVs, tablets, and the like. Some things are best learned by trial and error.

Unfortunately, I haven't always applied that to my life. I've played it safe too often, especially when it comes to matters of faith. So often I'd say I'm waiting on God for something in my life, when I get the feeling God was actually waiting on me to move. Waiting for me to make a decision, and trust Him with the results. If you're like me, and you've made your fair share of bad decisions in life, particularly before you began following Jesus, you might be a bit cautious when it comes to doing things now, wanting to be sure God is cool with it. Likewise, if you've gone to church for sometime, you may have even developed this theology of waiting on God to "order your steps." While it's good to be circumspect in all we do, we shouldn't operate in extreme caution, because honestly, no one in the Bible lived that way. Granted, a lot of those guys heard from God through burning bushes, voices of thunder, angels and weird-looking prophets (John the Baptist probably wasn't as approachable as Joel Osteen)--so they may have had more certitude in their actions. But regardless, they were more often moving and doing, not waiting.

We see this particularly in the gospels. Though Jesus did a lot of teaching in the synagogues, His greatest sermons were object lessons. He healed people more than He taught about healing. He forgave people rather than just talking about it. He confronted injustice rather than protesting against it. And all the while, He included His disciples in these actions. The disciples bonded with Jesus in action, not in Bible studies. They learned on the go.

I believe Jesus desires to teach us the same way--in action. He doesn't want me to learn about prayer by reading the top 10 bestselling books on prayer at the Christian bookstore. He wants me to pray. If I'm doing it wrong, He'll correct me. Faith is more than just believing, it's doing. It requires action. Sometimes trusting God calls for us to wait, but more likely than not, it calls for us to move forward in uncertainty.

In Luke 17:12-14, Jesus comes across 10 people suffering from leprosy. He tells them to go show themselves to the priests. According to Jewish custom, when people were healed of the leprosy, they first had to go to the priests to be declared cleansed. Jesus did not tell these guys they were healed, didn't pray for them, didn't lay his hands on them before He told them to go. They had to trust Him and act. There was some uncertainty there. They could have gotten to the priests and been exiled for coming near the religious leaders unclean. But they believed Jesus, and acted in faith. On their way to the priests, they were healed.

I heard a message about a month ago where Bob Goff shared the importance of getting to the do part of faith. He admonished the audience with this: "If you just read about things, you feel like you're doing something, because you've read, but that's what stalkers do. They read about things, they memorize all this stuff. I realized I was just stalking Jesus, and I was creeping both of us out." Well, I don't want to stalk Jesus, I want to follow Him. And I can't follow anyone by standing still.

Learn to Dream Again

I was reading a blog post by author Jon Acuff about dreams, and how we should ask other people about their dreams because we play a role in helping fulfill each others aspirations. I thought it was a cool idea... until I had to pause and think, "What are my dreams?"

It was an odd feeling because I have always been one with hopes and aspirations, always daydreaming about finally fulfilling my pursuits as I sit at a table in a studio being interviewed by Charlie Rose on PBS, because I'd obviously have plenty of wisdom to share on actualizing your dreams. But as I've gone through my life, dealing with my day-to-day duties at work and home, I wonder if I've been lulled into a mundane life void of big aspirations?

If money weren't an issue, and you couldn't fail, what would you be doing? That's a provocative, ice-breaker question I used to ask friends and new people I met. It's a good way to find out the inner passion and the heart of a person. At it's core, it eliminates the most common barriers I've found to pursing dreams: fear of being broke and fear of failure. It was always interesting to hear people's responses. There were some great dreams hidden deep within the hearts of people. It showed me the human desire to do great things, and good things--things that benefit others, not just the dreamer. My follow up question was always a bit tough: Why aren't you doing it? Alas, most people were putting off their dreams because of those aforementioned fears, or some other variable.

I'm not quite sure why my dreamy status has dwindled lately. Some dreams have been achieved, which suggests that I may need to up the challenge of my tasks. While others have been abandoned, and I must examine whether they are worthy of being rekindled. In either case, I need to do some self-examination, which is a healthy process. I think we all get to a point in life where we need to re-examine our pursuits, whether we've accomplished them, whether they are still worthy of being pursued, whether they are still realistic, and whether we need to be revived with new dreams.

This kick in the butt couldn't have come at a better time for me. My theme for this year is to live a better story. The concept comes from one of my favorite writers, Donald Miller, who has made living a better story a life pursuit--plus he has books, a conference, T-shirts, and coffee mugs about it, so it's too late to take credit for it. Part of living a better story, and ultimately a more meaningful one, is to want better things. And by better things, Don suggests we must desire things that are sacrificial, that will costs us something, that will challenge us, and that will scare us. So I want to dream again. I want to dream big. I don't want to rest on my laurels. I believe you feel the same way. So how do we do this:

• Let's get around dreamers. Hang out and converse with those who have big aspirations.
• Examine who you are and what makes you tick. What upsets you and what energizes you like nothing else?
• What brings you fulfillment, a sense of accomplishment?
• Let your imagination run wild. Daydream, ponder, envision.

This is our year to dream again. To take on challenges and to live a better story. The journey is what makes life interesting.

God Uses Sign Language

Prayer is a common practice among all religions and spiritual practices. I think most people, Christian or not, spiritual or not, have lobbed a prayer or two up to God at some point. Essentially, it's our means of communication with the Creator. Most people have no problem talking to God.

The difficulty, and mystery, arises when it comes to hearing from God. We have a little trouble understanding prayer as a two-way communication vehicle. And even if we do embrace the concept, hearing from God still remains a little cryptic.

As Christians, hearing from God is supposed to be a normal practice. But aside from those who hear the audible voice of God--which is the minority, since most of us would have an accident in our pants if we ever did--most have to use some sixth sense of discernment, conviction and/or confirmation to know God is communicating with us.

There have been times in my life when I've heard from God clearly, regularly, and confidently, and there have been times when the communication lines have been a bit murkier, as I struggle to discern between my thoughts and His will. During these times, it's important not to limit the ways you allow God to speak to you, nor assume everything (and everyone) is God speaking.

I've always been someone who leaned toward the practical side of the supernatural. I don't see everything as a "sign from God," and I don't know, nor care, about the spiritual significance of every number. But I have been open to whatever ways God would choose to talk to me. Well, until a few years ago. I was involved in a relationship where all "the signs"--both natural and spiritual--pointed to it being something that would last forever. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. And though my faith in God and His goodness never waned, I abandoned belief in "divine signs" as a practical means He would use to communicate to me.

But that started to change a few weeks ago. I was reading the account of John the Baptist's birth in Luke 1. His father, Zacharias, was mute throughout his wife's pregnancy. When the child was ready to be named before his circumcision, all his relatives assumed he would be named after his father, Zacharias. However, his mother, Elizabeth, said his name would be John. The family dismissed the notion, since no one in the family had that name. But Zacharias wrote on a tablet that his son's name would be John, and immediately Zacharias was able to speak. Everyone was pretty amazed by this, and thought in their hearts, "Wow, there must be something special about this child. God has His hand in this."

It's pretty evident that the Jews were into signs from God, and He did speak to them that way. There's no indication in the new covenant that God abandoned that tactic. If we're open to hearing from Him that way, He'll speak that way. Not too long after reading that scripture and reconsidering the significance of signs, I encountered a few signs that gave me some hope and direction. I may not have recognized them if I hadn't opened my mind and heart to that means of communication again.

I don't want to abandon the mysterious ways of God. I don't want to cut off a means of His communication. That's limiting God. And if there's anything I don't want to do, it's limit God in my life. I need to hear from Him, desperately. Why would I turn a deaf ear, or better yet, a blind eye, to what He's trying to say? The small, everyday coincidences may be something special. I may discover, like John the Baptist's elders, that somehow, "God has His hand in this."

My Story, Chapter 2012

I'm finally starting to develop into what one would call a reader. I'm not quite an avid reader yet, but this past year I was finally able to finish several books in a 12-month period. This is quite an accomplishment because I have a pretty impressive book shelf full of half-read books. There are plenty of books I purchase or are given to me, but whether it's because I lose interest or I find a more intriguing read, I tend to put them down before I get to the end.

I have few new books on my nightstand that I'm looking forward to diving into and finishing this year. But maybe the most intriguing read I'm anticipating this year is my own story, chapter 2012.

Like many people, I have goals to begin the New Year. I like to simplify my new start into one theme, one slogan, and one mind-set to live by. This year, I want to live a better story... a more interesting one... a more meaningful one. Essentially, our lives are a book. And each year we write a new chapter. However, I get the sense that my life is sometimes like those half-read books on my nightstand--for some reason, just not interesting enough to keep reading.

Like anyone, I have my share of happenings and events that highlight the year, as well as life-changing moments that impact me internally, or drama and conflict that come up from time to time. But for the most part, the past few chapters have been the same. It's time for a shake-up. It's time for change.

Of course that can mean a lot of different things, from a career change to relocation, but for me, this year, it means taking risks, exploring new areas, and stepping into adventure. Now, I'm not a thrill seeker, so I won't be jumping out of any planes, climbing any mountains, nor auditioning for The Voice--though that would be interesting to see if Cee-Lo would pick me for his team. For me, the best stories aren't necessarily the stuff of action flicks, but rather they are found in the beauty and complexity of human relationships. I want to take the risk of exploring that area.

I want to meet new people, people different than me. I want to be the guy who starts conversations with strangers in Starbucks. I want to deepen the shallow relationships in my life. I want to know, intimately, the stories of those around me, and reveal to them the story I'm living. I want to invite people to be characters in my book, and become an essential character in their stories.

I say this because my role model and closest friend, Jesus, lived this type of life. He invited 12 ragamuffin strangers to live with Him, and journey with Him. He spent the most meaningful and documented part of His life meeting new people, serving them, and loving them on a daily basis. He took the time and effort to seek out hurting people, those who simply needed a friend, needed someone to take an interest in them, and needed to know they were important and worth His time and attention.

So why is this risky? Because it's uncomfortable. It's not something I want to do, or even know how to do. And it's not something everyone will be receptive to. But it will make a more interesting story than one of mere personal goals and self development. It will bring new characters in my life. It will bring conflict and it will stretch me. It will make me care more than I do, notice those around me, and step outside my personal bubble. It will make a more interesting chapter than the previous ones. And it will make my life story a little more intriguing, and worth the read.

What will your Chapter 2012 look like? What type of story will you live? Feel free to share your goals and your theme.

It's Really Not About You

People are fickle. If you live long enough, you learn that. Sometimes we learn it the hard way, as so-called friends turn their back on us, and other times we realize that same flaw dwells within ourselves.

Jesus experienced fickle friendship in the worst way, and at the worst time. At His most vulnerable moment, when He was weighed down with stress and anxiety knowing He was about to be abused and murdered, the Bible documents the seven most miserable words of scripture: "Then they all forsook Him and fled" (Mark 14:50). The "they" there refers to the 12 disciples who for three years lived with Him, followed Him, and received life-giving words from Him. But when the chips were down, none of that mattered. Their behavior was in stark contrast to the beginning of their journey with Him. When Jesus started the ministry, the disciples "forsook all" to follow Him. Yet three years later, they "all forsook" Him. They fled in order to save themselves.

The more I read the Word of God, the more I believe that the core evil, the most carnal characteristic, and greatest offense to God is selfishness. It's when our lives and actions are tilted toward what benefits ourselves. And honestly, it's embedded in our flesh from birth, that's why it's so hard to shake. Don't believe me? Just watch a few toddlers interact with each other. They are the most selfish creatures on the planet. Getting them to share a toy is harder than potty training. They have to be instructed, and forced, to be selfless. We have the same problem as adults. Though we may have no problem sharing, we tend to focus on ourselves, which drives our decisions, habits, and lifestyle. That's why almost every lesson in the Gospel points to being selfless, and sacrificing for others. Jesus taught that those who are greatest in the Kingdom of God are servants, and He left an example Himself that "the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and give His life a ransom for many" (Mark 10:45).

I've always said that Jesus didn't just sacrifice His life on the cross, but rather His entire life was a sacrifice. It wasn't centered on Himself, but rather on serving and rescuing others. For us, that's a tough act to follow. But we are called to follow His example.

In some way, we have all been fickle followers of Jesus. We may not have abandoned Him like the disciples, but we do abandon His principles when we ignore the needs of others around us in order to satisfy our own interests. In every area of our lives--home, career, community--we must demonstrate an others-first, servant's attitude. It must become part of our character just as selfishness has been part of our nature. My prayer, my hope and desire, is that I never forsake Him by choosing to serve myself. Difficult? Yes. Impossible? "With men it is impossible, but not with God; for with God all things are possible" (Mark 10:27).

Advent: Finding Joy in Waiting

In recent years, I began to participate in Advent. I haven't been to any Advent services, but I've embraced the practice on a personal level. Not coming from a Catholic or orthodox tradition of faith, Advent was pretty foreign to me. However, the more I learned about it, the more intrigued I became about it.

In essence, Advent is about waiting. And waiting isn't something we usually celebrate, which makes this an odd holiday ritual. Seriously, waiting sucks. Waiting in traffic, waiting in line while Christmas shopping, waiting for a slow internet connection, waiting for a washer at the laundry mat, waiting for your cell phone contract to expire so you can finally switch wireless carriers--waiting is not something we like to embrace.

But in Advent, we realize the excitement of waiting. We relive the experience of the Hebrews anticipating the birth of the Messiah, and we're reminded of the waiting period we are in presently, awaiting the return of Christ. And that's part of what makes Advent beautiful. We're caught between two of the most significant events of human history. And though we wait, not knowing when our Lord will return, we do so knowing that, in a previous time, the waiting paid off. He showed up as promised, not as everyone expected, but better than they could have anticipated. That gives us hope. Hope that our waiting for His return will, too, pay off.

Advent also reminds us that though waiting is done on our end, the appearing is His part. Many of us are waiting on God in different areas of our lives. Advent reminds us that He has a history of appearing. Yes, He appeared in Bethlehem more than 2,000 years ago, but He also appeared in your life and mine when we were in need. My favorite Christmas song is "O Come, O Come Emmanuel." It's a reminder that He is Emmanuel--God with us. He has come, and He is here... with you... with me. And no matter what we are waiting on--employment, healing, direction, money, a spouse, or your first child--He will surely come and deliver the need. He will advent. In the meantime, we wait in peace, because peace isn't the absence of trouble, but rather the presence of God. We wait in faith. We wait in joyful expectation of Him.

O Come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer

Our spirits by Thine advent here

Disperse the gloomy clouds of night

And death's dark shadows put to flight.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee, O Israel.

- O Come, O Come Emmanuel