Hidden in the Stuffing

We had a Thanksgiving luncheon yesterday for our Legacy Ministry at church. It was a joint venture. We provided the turkey and dressing and everyone else brought something to go with it. As usual, my plate was far too inadequate for the spread.

By tradition, I try a little bit of everything. So my portions end up one big pile of food.

When you eat from a pile, individual entrees lose their identity. Flavors mesh with very little distinction as to what you just forked into your mouth.

But somehow in that experience a unique flavor jumped out. It gave the wow moment. It was unique, unexpected and delightful. And I have no idea what it was and from what portion it came. All I knew was I wanted more.

Finding something you cannot define or explain makes seconds quite difficult. Grazing is forbidden at our potlucks. Nobody wants to see me going from bowl to bowl with my fork trying to find that magical dish of flavor.

But knowing it’s there, somewhere, on the table can drive you crazy. I wanted more but didn’t know how to get it.

Moments with the Lord come along like that. We’re feasting away at life when all of a sudden a flavor hits our senses. It so captivates the moment that all we can think about is how we desperately want more.

David said, “O taste and see that the LORD is good…” ^{PS 34:8}

Captured and captivated by God is more uncommon than it should be. But with an omnipresent God it shouldn’t be. He is present in all of the moments of our lives. Right now, regardless of what’s going on, He is present. Should that surprise us? Throughout the day, wherever we go, He will be present. Should that surprise us? In the evening when we close out this day and wake up to the morning, He is already there. Should that surprise us?

While we’re gulping down life, just know that there, hidden in that portion on our fork, God has placed a tasty morsel of His goodness. It is the spice of His presence in our lives. Savor it, delight in it, crave more.

It makes us realize we are hungry for something we didn't know was available.

^{JER 15:16} Your words were found and I ate them, and Your words became for me a joy and the

delight of my heart; for I have been called by Your name, O LORD God of hosts.

From a Larry Gatlin Fan

Larry Gatlin is a remarkable man. I saw him at a men’s power luncheon yesterday. The years have left their mark but the life lived shows evidence of God’s hand on his life.



He told stories of people and places, opportunities and failures, open and closed doors—all of which he believes, now, God directed. It was obvious during the experiences he missed seeing God but afterwards, when he was in his right mind, he saw how God had guided him.

The darkest days resulted from a cocaine habit that gripped him for nearly five years. In his final crash, when he came to himself, he cried out to God. He had known the Lord all along but now he needed Him. God got him into rehab and restored his life.

As he looks back, he is grateful for the people, places, opportunities, failures, open and closed doors, because he now sees how God was faithful to him in spite of his own lack of faithfulness.

And I said, “Amen.”

God’s faithfulness never changes. He continues to work out the details of our lives that help Him accomplish what concerns us.

Through a man who has now been on both sides of the spectrum, I am renewed. I will cling to the faithfulness of God in the land of the living. I will live expectantly, depending upon His grace and His mercy. I will deny the darkness’ attempt to define my life. I will announce the goodness of God in this day.

Thanks Larry Gatlin. You have encouraged me greatly!

Are you successful or not?

How do you measure success? I watched a football game last night in which the quarterback had a highly successful night but the team lost. Success or not? I’ve watched other games where the quarterback stunk and the team still won. Success or not?

It all depends upon the criteria. Take the quarterback by himself and evaluate his performance, he did his job and did it well. He was successful. But if you add to that criteria something for which he cannot be solely responsible, even in his success he can be declared a failure.

It doesn’t seem fair to be evaluated by something we ultimately have no control over. We do our job and do it well, but someone thinks we should have done more or done things differently so they rate us lower than our performance suggests.

Satan is the accuser of the brethren. He watches our lives and ignores the ninety-eight percent good going on and points out the two percent that we struggle with. He magnifies that two percent until it overshadows the ninety-eight. In fact, he makes such a big deal out of it we forget the ninety-eight even existed.

He can make the two percent seem so important that we feel like we have failed totally.

Years ago I wrote a little poem that reminds me not to look at what Satan points out.

            I’ve never been very good at the things of life.

            I’m not always best and I don’t always win.

            But I’m loved by the one who knows the real me,

            Who blesses who I am, not who I’ve been.

God doesn’t live in my past. He’s in my present. He is interested in now, not then.

Satan lives in yesterday. His accusations are always in what I did or didn’t do. He frustrates today by reminding me of other days.

The criteria God uses is: what am I doing now. I may have blown it five seconds ago, but now, does He have my heart and my focus? If so, I’m renewed and restored. Even though I failed I’m not a failure. Because success is determined by this moment and in this moment I choose to go with God’s opinion.

I'm Not ADD

I’m not ADD. Really, I’m not. I may occasionally find myself deficit in attention, but I wouldn’t call it a disorder. I think it’s the caffeine.



What I really struggle with is the ability to be still and wait. It’s more an PDD—Patience Deficit Disorder. I tend to want things to happen a bit more quickly than later.

Waiting has always seemed like wasting time. Having to wait for someone to get ready, or waiting for a red light, or waiting for the game to start, places me in a time bog. Everything slows down when I’m waiting. Like reigning in a race horse. I’m made to run, not stroll.

You know what you call a fly with no wings? A walk. He’s not made to walk. He’s made to buzz the atmosphere. He’ll die if he can’t fly. Or at least he’ll make it easier to get swatted.

I know the feeling. I want to go, to move forward, to gather no moss. I’m a rolling stone, not a rock in a terrarium.  

But God says wait. He says so not as a punishment, but as a means by which I can move cautiously toward His will. Those who wait upon the Lord will gain new strength. There is purpose in waiting. There is reward in waiting. There are provisions that only come from waiting.

What if I get to the airport too early? Do I rush into any plane fixing to take off just because my plane isn’t ready to leave? There is a destination to which I’m heading. Getting to it requires waiting until my plane is loading. I can still get someplace on another plane but who knows where that place will be.

Waiting allows for God to align the factors that make for the greater blessing. It says, “I’m trusting God, not rushing into the wind asking Him to bless me.” Waiting says, “I want what God wants.”

As a goal, we need to be where God wants us to be, when God wants us to be there, doing what God wants us to be doing, the way God wants it done. Ain’t gonna happen unless we learn to wait upon the Lord.

Trusting God is Always a Choice

I took a group of students to a wilderness camp a few weeks ago. Great trip!

Part of the experience at the camp was learning to trust. Each activity required special equipment—typically harnesses—that kept you from falling if something went wrong. Whether it was standing on top of a telephone pole and diving out to a trapeze swing fifty feet off the ground, or rappelling down the side of a sheer cliff, or climbing the face of a mountain, or zip-lining from about three thousand feet up…each person would be strapped into a harness and attached to a safety line.

It’s amazing how our self-preservation instincts kick in to tell us not to do such frightening things. That’s where the test part comes in—to see if we can overcome instinct and trust the equipment. It is quite the struggle for some.

You see, we have a list of expectations that form our comfort zone—things like: height, visibility, temperature, objects, control, people. It’s our space. Anything that threatens our space challenges our comfort. Falling probably scares us more than most other threats.

To fight the fear of falling, when in reality we cannot fall because of a harness, we have to rely on trust. I have to convince myself that the harness is trustworthy. I may slip some but I will not be hurled headlong onto the jagged rocks of a rugged ravine. The fight is in my mind. The moment says, “Jump.” My mind says, “You’re crazy.” The harness says, “I’m here.” Imagination says, “You’re gonna die.” Reality says, “You’re safe.” The person waiting behind me says, “Just do it.” Who do I trust?

When it comes to faith, both our spirit and our mind are engaged. Of the two, our mind is the hardest to convince that God can be trusted. It is so polluted by suggestions of His inadequacies that fear makes us doubt. Trusting becomes a battle. The battle is for submission of my mind. My spirit agrees but my mind controls the body. The body hears the spirit but obeys the mind.

When the mind trusts, the body will jump. When the body jumps the whole life is filled with an exhilaration reserved only for those who act upon their faith.

 ^{PS 37:23} The steps of a man are established by the LORD, and He delights in his way. When he falls, he will not be hurled headlong, because the LORD is the One who holds his hand. I have been young and now I am old, yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken or his descendants begging bread.

Ever Broken God's Heart?

I’ve disappointed myself. Here, I thought I was mature enough to handle most stuff, I have been taken down by the rebellion of one person. After many words, threats and consequences, the decision is as firm now as when it was made five months ago.

Here’s my lesson: it hurts like heck when someone deliberately turns their back on your counsel. In a very miniscule way, I sensed what God must feel when we do the same to Him.

Most of our sin is casual, something we do without giving it much thought. We say something hurtful, we punch somebody’s lights out, we yell at the driver who just cut us off. Stuff that just comes out of an uncontrolled life. But there are other things we do by not doing what is right. We turn our heads from the need of the hurting, we refuse the opportunity to share a life-changing message to a friend, we withhold our smile from someone needing to feel wanted. Stuff that comes out of an insensitive life.

 But the most serious sin is the one we plan out. The one we commit after being told how wrong it is. The one we have decided to commit all costs. The one we have sold out to. That is the most grievous sin God has to deal with. He warns, He confronts, He redirects and we go on anyway. How that must break His heart!

God, I am at a loss as to how to go on. I know how easy it is to judge others and accuse them of the very things I’ve done against You. Thank You for the mercy You gave and the love by which You restored me. May you apply the same in this case.

Biting the Hand that Feeds You

I feed two cats each day. Dippy and Buddy. Buddy likes to be scratched before he eats. I usually oblige. But when he’s done being scratched, he bites me—not hard, but just enough that I try to avoid it. Why? Because I don’t like getting bit.

Often we try to do good things for people, only to get bit in return. It’s not like we saw it coming and could have avoided it. We just get caught up in their problems, think we’re helping make a difference and they bite us. For most biters, we’re dealing with a character flaw. Somewhere in their development they found it appropriate to bite people who are trying to help them. Probably some deep hurt drives that.

Years ago, I saw a kitten crawling down our street toward the woods. He was hurt and couldn’t walk. He was going there to die. Caring me, I wanted to help, so I rushed out to pick him up. Out of his pain, he latched onto my finger and wouldn’t let go. He literally sunk his teeth into my flesh. My lesson: hurting things hurt others. Or to translate it to people: hurting people hurt people.

I don’t want to think it’s intentional, but it is a reaction I see all the time. And one I wish to avoid.

Now with Buddy, I don’t think he bites because he’s hurt. I think he just does it out of habit—something in his Siamese DNA. But if I picked up another hurting kitten, I’m pretty sure it would happen again.

Knowing that doesn’t stop us from helping, it just makes us treat them differently, often by putting on gloves. Gloves protect you but make you insensitive to them. It’s kinda hard to treat someone gently while wearing gloves.

Oh, how I wish they would just deal with the hurt and not take it out on others.