*Side note: One of my favorite performances of hers (or anyone’s) is her singing “Someone Like You” at last year’s Brits. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yQIQ-1vpWfs) Listen to what host James Corden has to say about her and her music.

…and I like her for the same reason I love the blues: Soul. Music that is honest and visceral…you can’t fake the kind of stuff that gets deep down inside of you and just rattles you.

I was struck by something that she said in her speech when she won this year’s Grammy for Album of the Year:

“And this record is inspired by something that is really normal and everyone’s been through it, which is a rubbish relationship. And it’s gone on to do things that I can’t tell you how I feel about it, it’s been the most life-changing year.”

The deep pain of loneliness and broken relationships had led – somehow – to something very beautiful beyond her wildest dreams. And there it is…the pain of the human condition and the hope of the Good News of Jesus.

Read John 20:19-23. From his followers’ perspective, Jesus had just been crucified, suffering wildly in public humiliation, either a stubborn charlatan or a pitiful lunatic. Instead of saving them as he’d promised, he was extinguished by the very evil that would now oppress his friends. They had hoped in this man for salvation and freedom, but he had left them alone, afraid, directionless, and disillusioned – trying to put back the pieces by themselves, in a worse state than before he ever came and made all of those promises.

Feel familiar?

The pain and frustration of the disciples was real, but their understanding of reality that led to those feelings was really false. Jesus had made good on all of his claims and promises. He had saved them from their greatest enemies: sin, death, and their own flesh. But he did so in a way that they had never understood or expected: Jesus had to suffer and die in their place. And now, when things were the darkest, Jesus appeared to his friends speaking “peace.” Peace from torturous suffering. Peace from death. Peace with God. Jesus brings ultimate and lasting peace, but more than that: Jesus is himself ultimate and lasting peace.

Notice that Jesus did not take his friends out of their suffering, though. Quite the opposite, he sent them out into the world, with the Good News of eternal life through Him, to mimic his love and self-sacrifice so that others might experience real life. And He promised to never leave them or forsake them.

So to those in Christ, I say “peace.” Rest, knowing that you are not enough to save yourself. Rest, knowing that if you call on Jesus as your Savior, you will suffer…perhaps even as wildly as Jesus did. Rest, knowing that you will never experience perfect peace on this earth.

But, rest, also in the fact that the same God who loved you enough to send his only Son to die in your place is also powerful enough to raise him from the dead. Rest, knowing that you have been invited to work alongside of him in seeking and saving the lost in his great redemption story. Rest, knowing that you are forever a son or daughter of the King, and no one can wrest you from His love, favor, and protection. Rest, knowing that this world is not your home.

And laugh. Because this is funny: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c4ophh_uFGk

One purpose in so doing is to help the directors of various programs more effectively counsel program applicants on which local Fellows program might suit them best.

After taking stock, this is what we had to say about what God has built here in Charlotte over the last two years:

“Charlotte Fellows is an urban Fellows program designed to shepherd college graduates as they transition from students to marketplace ministers. They will leave here with a better handle on what it means to be ambassadors of the Kingdom of God in their workplace, church, community, and home.  Our program has more of a “real world” feel, where we engage the Fellows as the young professionals they are becoming, and not as the students they once were.

Although we have had, and will continue to have, all kinds of Fellows, we are more focused on those Fellows interested in business (marketing, NASCAR, public relations, sales, and insurance), non-profits, entrepreneurship, education, and counseling.

The Fellows live with host families and attend one of our four partner churches (PCA and Anglican churches), who are passionate about simultaneously cultivating a deeper understanding of the Gospel in Charlotte’s urban population and seeking the good of the city.

Instead of working with youth groups, the Fellows work very closely with Brookstone School, a K-5 private, Christian school for the urban poor. Fellows engage with the faculty, administration, and students of Brookstone as mentors, classroom aids, Bible study leaders, grant writers, secretaries, and newsletter editors…anything they need done.

The Fellows’ classes are designed for men and women of the marketplace. In the fall, Fellows focus on God’s redemptive story found in his Word (acquiring a framework for all of Scripture) and will grow in their ability to enjoy sweeter personal devotions and more effectively lead Bible studies. In the spring, the Fellows will learn how the Gospel is woven throughout their professional lives, seeing their vocational gifts and passion for their communities through a Gospel lens and hearing – perhaps for the first time – that God values their work.

The Charlotte Fellows also have a unique relationship with an excellent Christian counseling center called the Barnabas Center. Fellows will sit under the teaching of various Barnabas counselors throughout the year to learn how to cultivate deeper and healthier marriages by understanding the differences in how men and women relate to one another, how to be better spiritual friends, and how your own dignity and depravity shape the way you relate to one another and to God.”

“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good…” – Paul

Do you believe these statements?

Don’t answer that question out of fear or duty, but be honest with yourself…no one can hear your thoughts. Are there times when you believe and other times when you don’t? Are there times when God’s promises spoken through Jesus and Paul seem like  empty, pithy sayings in the wake of a failed relationship, failed business, dead hopes, actualized fears, or utter confusion?

(The honest answer to that last question: “yes”)

I don’t know why things happen to us. But this is worth thinking about…

God loves his people deeply. God is intimately involved in the lives of his people. God desires the flourishing of his people. God offers real, abundant life to his people, and he is powerful enough to ensure that his desires are realized.

There is a great example of this in Deuteronomy 8:1-10. (Take some time to read it before you read any further here.)

God has befriended, blessed, and entered intimate relationship with a people of his own choosing. They were slaves in a foreign land: weak, few in number, and helpless. God saved them from slavery for freedom and flourishing by his awesome power displayed through great miracles. As He leads his people to freedom, to a land that is good – a place of abundance – the people respond as I often do: with arrogance, forgetfulness, and a readiness to worship myself and other lesser deities… like accomplishment, approval, position, and comfort. I need those things (I think), and God is not giving them to me. So I take matters into my own hands.

God knew that his people needed to experience 40 years of desert. They were hungry. Then they cried out to him, and he fed them well. They were thirsty for water. Then they cried out to him, and he satisfied their thirst. Do you see what is happening here?

More than food, water, direction, comfort…what his people needed was this process. He was training them to trust him, rely on him, understand his deep and perfect love for them, and feel their need of his goodness.

God knows that his people need disappointment. We need desert. We need to experience our inadequacy and the failure of all of our little gods. Abundant life is found in one place.

So please be honest… In fact, cry out to him with your need of provision: a house, job, admission to grad school, or spouse. Cry out to him with your need of love and acceptance. Cry out to him with your need for prestige, position, and popularity. Cry out with frustration over dead hopes and dead dreams. Cry out to him with all of your felt needs and receive the gift you need most but did not know to ask for.

Following Jesus can feel a lot like navigating with a compass. When you are orienteering, you are constantly looking for landmarks so you can see where you are on the map. (Why not just follow the trail, you ask? Well, my friend, in the wilderness there are no trails…just a lot of “wilder”.) You do your best to figure out where you are, line your map up with your compass, and start moving in the right direction. The catch is you do not always end up moving in the right direction. Many times you are without distinct landmarks when orienteering, so you are making your best guess as to where you are based on where you have been and what you see around you. In field sighting, if you are not precisely aimed up with your destination, you are aimed for massive failure and a much longer day in the field. The antidote to this scenario is frequent compass consultation. As you travel in a direction, the landscape unfolds before you, and you develop a more accurate idea of where you are on that map that you are holding. By sighting frequently, you eliminate the possibility of following an errant path for any significant distance.

At this point, let’s make sure one thing is abundantly clear: the compass is NEVER wrong. The issue is ALWAYS with the the person holding the compass.

Now that the obvious parallels have been drawn (I hope), I want to draw your attention to a huge, gaping flaw in this comparison. And if you missed it, then you would find yourselves in the company of most of us on an average day. The flaw: unlike the compass, Jesus is not a tool to help imperfect people navigate their way to a particular destination, to be consulted at various points along the way. In American Christianity, we have been taught to think like this, though. We are “doers”, bootstrap puller-uppers, and – in the upper- and middle-classes – accomplishment hounds. We want a destination clearly marked out so that we can put our heads down, strive for it, and achieve it, joining a chorus of toddlers in the battle cry: “I can do it myself!”

But this begs the question: Do what ourselves, exactly?

Think about it: unlike the wilderness story, there is no physical destination for us to get to. We work and work, asking Jesus to guide, protect, and lead us along the way to some place that, apparently, we are in a hurry to reach.

So how would we tweak the Jesus/compass comparison so that it will hold weight? In the new scenario, you are still frequently consulting your Compass, but this time it is because the Compass is the destination. You are trying to know the Compass more intimately and become like the Compass. In doing so, the Compass will lead you all over the map to accomplish its purposes: to make you more like Him, bring life to sick travelers, cultivate the land, and destroy all false compasses. In following the Compass, you will move from one location to another, being tasked to lead people to particular places, cultivate particular areas of creation, heal fellow travelers, be healed by fellow travelers, and stop at shelters along the way, but those moves are only of any significance if they happen in the context of the Compass’s great purpose for you: knowing and responding to Him.

Matthew 7:21-23. Jesus is not at all concerned with activity, relationships, or achievements unless they are borne out of a relationship with Him. Not. The. Slightest. Bit. “But Lord, I started a company that treats its employees well!” “I read through the Bible in a year for the last 20 years!”  “I held my marriage together!” “I taught a Sunday school class for blind kids!” “I have people all the time tell me what a good guy I am!” “I made something of myself…and I mentioned you in the acknowledgements section of the book I wrote about my success!” The response?

I have heard you. Now, leave my presence.

The only people entering the kingdom of heaven, according to Jesus, are the people who do the will of his Father. On a macro level, we know from Paul that God’s will is for us to know Him intimately and become just like his Son (1 Thes. 4:3). How that works itself out in each of our lives, though, is something that only God can reveal to us through His Spirit. Other things that Jesus said are similar: “Abide in me.” (John 15:4) “Seek me.” (Luke 12:31) “Seek my Father to see what He desires of you.” (John 5:30) “Follow me.” (Matthew 9:9)

I struggle with putting my head down and blindly pursuing “good” uses of my time…without seeking Jesus. In my busyness, I have foregone the only thing. My hope is that this piece encourages you and me to consistently seek Jesus and reorient accordingly.

Click to Listen to the Graduation Address

]]> http://www.charlottefellows.org/?feed=rss2&p=953 0 http://www.charlottefellows.org/?p=906 http://www.charlottefellows.org/?p=906#comments Tue, 05 Apr 2011 20:54:34 +0000 Mavery http://www.charlottefellows.org/?p=906 Back in spring of 2008, I spent a weekend in Nashville, my hometown, and got coffee with my best friend. I’ve heard that people are supposed to outgrow having a “best friend,” but after going to school together from Kindergarten through our bachelor degrees, I’ve given up on trying to find another label for Hunter. Of all the people in my life, he had the perspective and authority to say, “Austin, you’ve changed, for the better.”

While I was in the pilot program of the Knoxville Fellows program, he had been living in Munich and working at a church with his wife. Though we had chatted over Skype several times, he had missed all the incremental changes that occurred in those eight or nine months, so he was taking in a new version of his old buddy all in one gulp.

We talked for hours about the Fellows—the program’s kinks and failures in its first year; its more quiet successes; my crush on one of the female Fellows—that was always fun to explain—which was painful because all five young men and six young women had agreed not to date each other while in the program. When the Fellows program began in August of 2007, those eleven people represented as many spiritual issues and emotional traumas. We were living our own episodes of MTV’s The Real World.

Wasn’t this supposed to be a “Christian” program? Yes. But when did Christians have all their stuff sorted out? When did the writers of scripture even use “Christian” as an adjective? Who had read and approved these people’s applications? Good people with good hearts, good intentions, and a good chance of making mistakes.

The Fellows Program ended, and though I should have been looking for a job, I spent a month in Montana and Colorado instead, partly because I didn’t need to be in the same city as that girl I had fallen for and partly because I needed to figure out how I had changed. What was God trying to teach me by allowing so much brokenness to force me to my knees?

The answer came with powerful clarity at Spring Canyon in Buena Vista. I had agreed to help my good friend Rick with some of the teaching at a father-son adventure camp, and the curriculum exposed me to Robert Lewis’s work for the first time. Though much of Lewis’s themes and subjects were familiar to me, one particular phrase, one specific path of masculinity, kept blinking like a stoplight: reject passivity.

In John Knowles’ novel A Separate Peace, Gene, the narrator, makes an observation about passivity: “It was only long after that I recognized sarcasm as the protest of people who are weak.” I know this type of sarcasm like I know the scars on my hands. Rather than start difficult conversations and press into the real issue, I had a habit of making snide remarks, speaking in poison-tipped code: “Hey, thanks for being on time, Jake!” I might say this to a friend who was habitually late.

But what if I had taken Jake aside and explained how his habit of showing up late and making the rest of us wait made us feel like we were unimportant? If we were all able to follow through on our agreement to meet at a certain time and place, why was he exempt? Saying “Sorry, I’m late” a couple dozen times began to look like his way of preempting and deflecting our disappointment rather than offering a sincere apology. We saw no respect or honor in his behavior. His ever-ready excuses to justify this behavior only added insult to injury.

That kind of honesty takes guts, and has inherent risk. What if Jake exploded in anger and worsens the situation? Speaking the truth doesn’t guarantee that the other person will accept it as truth and respond graciously.

Honesty requires vulnerability, and vulnerability is a gamble. Passive aggressive insincerity seems safer, but in the end, it is more dangerous. Passivity never relents. It is a tumor in our hearts that metastasizes and sends out tentacles into our relationships.

Here’s the good news: People really can change, or, I should say, God’s inexorable grace and His great power can make all things new. Grace isn’t some theological abstraction that helps pull us through the death of a parent, end of an intimate relationship, or disappointment in a spouse or friend.

Grace is more real than that scar on the inside of my right thumb from an accident with a Swiss Army knife. Grace can take a man and present him to his best friend of over twenty years and make him new.

In retrospect, I can see that those ten months of the Fellows Program were some of the best of my life. I learned how to reject passivity. I had to speak some hard truths: “I think you have a drinking problem.” “You don’t even know when you’re lying anymore.” “I’m uncomfortable with your girlfriend spending the night.”

“I think you need to go see a counselor.”

Inside of us dwells the power that raised Jesus from the tomb.  That Presence takes the clay of our lives, our hearts, our minds, and our characters into His hands and burns out the impurities. He cleanses us and forms us into the brothers and sisters of Christ. His face shining God smiles upon us and says, “Yes, you, my Beloved.”

When Jesus disrupts our pasteurized conceptions of him—fairy tale, remote comfort, or a man-shaped cutout on a Sunday school flannel board—we enter dangerous terrain. Jesus says to us, “I want you to learn how to offer my kind of love, a wounded love, a humble, quiet, bold love. I want your trust. I want your body, your intellect, your emotions, and your soul. I want your whole being. I won’t be satisfied until I sit at the head of your table as your Lord, your Savior, your friend, and your husband.”

During the Fellows program, this rhythm of sanctification became more real, more palpable, than it had ever been. Though growing and changing may never hurt less, rejecting passivity has begun to feel good. Boldness swells a man’s heart.

Austin L. Church is a vocational storyteller with a passion for personal transformation. He pays the bills by helping businesses and organizations with marketing, branding, copywriting, and social media and currently lives in Knoxville, Tennessee, with his wife Megan, a beautiful and very patient woman. You can read more of his writing on his blog, gu.e: what’s left out: http://www.whatsleftout.com.

My sister is a sophomore at Samford, and I spent this past weekend visiting her there. Saturday night we saw The Adjustment Bureau, starring Matt Damon as a man who encounters people he is never supposed to meet: the adjusters. These “people” are actually another species altogether, akin to angels in some ways, whose sole duty it is to intervene in specific people’s lives to make sure that events transpire in accordance with the Chairman’s plan. Since the movie is still in theaters, I won’t take us any further into the plot, but as the story unfolds, Matt Damon’s character asks intelligent questions that everyone asks: Is there a Chairman who orchestrates our lives according to a plan? What motivates the Chairman – is He good? Is his plan for my life good? Is He powerful enough to assure that the plan is fulfilled? Oddly enough, there is a demon mentioned in Acts who can help us with those questions…

In Acts 19:11-20, an itinerant posse of Jewish exorcists (no doubt a colorful collection of persons) is roaming the countryside earning a living by attempting to heal people of demon possession. Things are not going well for them. They have no power to actually do this, so they would be akin to the snake oil salesmen of the Old West (hence the picture to the left of the text) or travelling revival preachers of unsavory character. These men hear of the Apostle Paul’s success in healing people of physical ailments and casting out demons, and they hear that he is having success by evoking the name “Jesus.” To them, this word appears to be a magic word with incredible power. In an effort to increase their profit margin, they decide that they are going to give this little incantation a whirl themselves. They encounter someone possessed by a demon, and then…things go very poorly for them…

Probably inspired by some combination of morbid curiosity, financial gain, and dreams of wielding great power over people, these men evoke the name of Jesus, whom Paul preaches, and the demon responds. The demon sees welcomes this attempt, knowing full well that he is about to fulfill his own desire for destruction.  It is also a wonderful teaching moment for those men and for us never intended by that demon. The demon looks them over with an eerie calm and confidence and says, “Jesus I have heard of. I have also heard of Paul. But who are you?” Immediately thereafter the demon rips into them (literally) like a wild animal, leaving them bruised, bloody, and naked (yes, also literally), fleeing for their lives. I imagine this was quite a scene to behold.

At this point in our story, you may be wondering “Where is the lesson?” or “How are we helping Matt Damon?” Here is your answer: The demon knew something that these men did not know, and he taught it to them in a very real way. That truth is this: this demon, as well as all other demons, all people, and the whole of creation are subject to the ultimate authority of Jesus Christ. The Spirit of Christ was in Paul, working for God’s good purposes, and the demons that Paul cast out of people were powerless against the Spirit of Christ. This demon understood that, and he knew that the Spirit of Christ was not in these men who attempted to constrain him. Although it sounds odd to say, the Spirit of Christ left this demon unrestrained to wreak havoc on these men. Not a thing is accomplished on earth, whether it be birth, death, the rise and fall of world powers, or events in our daily lives, that is not known and allowed by the God of Jesus Christ for his good purposes. (Important note: There is a HUGE difference between allowing and affirming, and further discussion on this is beyond the scope of this entry).

It is the Spirit of Christ who has the power to cast out demons, bind evil, heal the sick, and give life to those who are dead in their own sin. Paul is not a magician. Apart from the Spirit of Christ working in accordance with the will of God, he is equally as impotent as the Jewish quacks even though he knew and believed and followed Christ. The power does not rest in the ideas or the persons claiming to represent God, but always only in the Spirit of God alone. There is no “finessing it.” Christ will not be a tool for personal gain.

A lesson for us: We are more like the itinerant Jews than we care to admit. We seek Christ for personal gain and blessing. We seek our kingdom. We seek our own honor and success and comfort. In our personal relationships, our businesses, and our communities, we will do well to seek the Kingdom of God. Seek Jesus. Seek love what He loves and do what He does. Use your influence to add value, beauty, and good to the world, as you obediently seek to usher in the Kingdom of God…a Kingdom more eternal, powerful, and beneficial to you than your own.

Nothing. I did not hear God speak to me that morning. I read over some of Isaiah’s writings, and my heart was not moved. I asked God again to meet with me. And this time…

Silence.

As the sun’s light covered the earth, and time marched on, I had to leave my place of meeting to get dressed and ready for the day’s work. I left my desk unsatisfied. And I thought about that morning’s events throughout the day (which may sound funny, seeing as how there were really no events to speak of). This is not my first encounter with God’s silence, but for some reason this was the most memorable.

Here is something that James writes:  ”Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.” (4:8) Should I then doubt this implied promise based on my morning experience? Consider other things true of God…He says himself: “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” (Isaiah 55:9). He alone is good, working also for the good of those who love him. (Rom. 8:28) Wrapped up in his working is also discipline…He is surgically removing the sin that is cancerous to our souls and making us more like him in his holiness. (Hebrews 12:5-11) In short, God is good. His ways are beyond my comprehension. He is working within me for my good and the good of all creation.

Now back to the morning that God was silent. Later that day, God spoke to me through the morning’s silence in three very important ways. First, my arrogance was exposed and I was more rightly oriented to my heavenly Father. I was reminded that I am not God’s master, and He is not my servant. He does not operate on my timing. He is the author of time. Second, when I did not hear from God I longed to hear from him. I pressed further into him. My heart’s desire to be in his presence swelled. I was aware of his (seeming) absence, and my heart was not at rest. Third, when I pressed in further, He was faithful to answer. You see, in the silence, He was speaking to me. He was with me the whole time. His care for me did not wane, nor did his vigilance waver. His love endures forever and He never closes an eye in watching over his children. (Ps. 100:5 and 121:4) My faith grew as a result.

To wait well is a very real expression of faith in God. Belief that God is who He says He is, that He loves us like He says He does, and that He is our very present help in time of need like He promises to be.

“Who has purposed this against Tyre, the bestower of crowns, whose merchants were princes, whose traders were the honored of the earth? The LORD of hosts has purposed it, to defile the pompous pride of all glory, to dishonor all the honored of the earth.” – Isaiah 23:8-9

It is no accident that I write this only hours after descending the steps to my parking garage to swing back the large metal door and find a giant gaping hole where my front passenger window used to be on my car - and glass everywhere. Being the wee hours of the morning, it took me a few minutes to really comprehend that I no longer had all of my car windows or a computer (as I write from a friend’s computer).

The emotions accompanying this discovery are windows into the way I understand the world and my place in it. I was angry, confused, put out with the extra effort required in taking care of all these things, and surprised that property belonging to me had not been left alone until I returned to do with it what I would. As I prayed to the Father, I eventually felt him molding my prayer into the following: “Father, I just ask that this entire situation is resolved well.” I didn’t know what “well” meant really…still don’t.

But I know that as I continued to pour my thoughts and feelings out to God that He was revealing that I was not at the center of this entire experience. I am frequently involved in self-focused thought and activity, but God is always calling me instead to see, hear, and follow Him. What if all of my ”why” questions pertaining to this loss are not answered? What if I never recover my possessions? What if the offender is not brought to justice? What if this happens again? What if something more offensive, damaging, or devastating happens to me?

What if answers to questions like these are not the most pressing issues?

When my world is rattled, a really valuable thing occurs: I remember that I am limited. I cannot force a particular resolution, I cannot ensure personal security or wellness, I will not live long on this earth, I am needy, and life is found outside of myself.

In the above passage from Isaiah, God is making several things clear. First, He is all of the things that I am not. He can raise kings and countries to world superpowers, and He can smash them beyond recognition. He is capable of horrendous devastation! Second, the world’s events unfold the way they do for the advancing of his purposes. There is purpose in all things, but just because this is true does not mean that we will always see and understand it as such (we’re limited, after all). Third, the great purpose in his moving is to rescue his sons and daughters from themselves and other lesser gods. He is good. He does not orchestrate evil. We were created by him and for him…and that is for our good. Because He is good, He refuses to allow us to live a life apart from him…being satisfied with lesser affections.

As this new year unfolds swiftly before us…pause. Seek to abide in the One in whom you will find purpose. Take a step beyond resolutions to use your Thigh Master and push into the eternal…in light of who you are and who God is, seek to live all of life with purpose… the way you rest, raise your children, earn a living, involve yourself in relationships, take time off from work, volunteer, exercise, explore, invest, worship, etc.

I am still staring at a pile of broken glass, still very frustrated, but I am now also thinking about who I am and who God is, and that is a wonderful thing.

So, it is not uncommon for counselors of young fellas to catch a whiff of a deeply-offensive odor in the cabin. In fact, the possibilities are near-endless when it comes to the source of a foul odor in a guys’ cabin. What I am talking about here, though, is the mother of all foul stenches. It may, at first, haunt only a small corner of the cabin. The counselor hopes that it is merely something on the wind, blowing through from somewhere else on its way to elsewhere. As time goes on, though, that putrid smell does not move along, much to the counselor’s dismay. No sir. It sits. It grows. It fills every single inch of airspace…lying in wait for all who enter that room. I won’t tell you what that smell is, but I will tell you that it rides along on Superman underoos buried deep in the bottom of the laundry bag of a very embarrassed and tight-lipped 7-year-old.

As the counselor, you think to yourself, “Why?!…Why would anyone do this?” Perhaps the initial incident could not have been avoided, but surely there are many plans of action in the mind of a little guy that would trump this one?! Throw Superman in the bathroom garbage can, bury him in the dirt, throw him on the roof of another cabin, but why, why, why would you ever think that the solution lies in the depths of a laundry bag that hangs like a proud potpourri bag over your own home?! The solution has to be: Get. It. Out.

If you are a parent, an older sibling, or you have spent any time caring for young children, then you know why a little person would choose to bury the evidence: embarrassment, fear, shame, guilt, and panic…these things do not combine for rational decision-making. As the counselor, though, you are thinking, “If you had just swallowed your pride, trusted me, and let me know this early on, then so much nasal torture…and deeper embarrassment…could have been avoided.” As a counselor, I do not love the little guy any less because of this type of behavior. He is 7. I am there to help him when it happens and work toward his growth as a young man and for his good. It is Christ’s love that compels me to extend grace to him because He has extended such deep grace to me.

You and I are much more like the 7-year-old mess than we care to remember. We are constantly burying our messes in hopes that no one will know. Think about it…at home, at work, in relationships. But, alas, it is impossible to hide that stench. 1 John 1:8-10 reminds us that if we say that we have no foul stench in our lives, then we are liars. When we do take the time to unplug we know it. We don’t need anyone to tell us. We just don’t like to remember. We don’t like to feel needy. We don’t like to feel dependent. But, very simply stated: we are dependent.

As you and your family begin celebrating Christmas, know that you are needy. Know that when you are hanging your ornaments and attending dinner parties that you are celebrating the coming of the Wonderful Counselor (Isaiah 9:6)…your Counselor. Do not miss him my friends, for He is your only hope. Know that if you confess your sin, your Counselor is faithful and just to forgive you and to clean you up. Always. His deepest joy is loving his sons and daughters. He also gave us one another to bear the burdens of our brothers and sisters…to serve as counselors under Him for one another.

You have a lot to celebrate this Christmas. Celebrate your Wonderful Counselor, your loving Father, your friends and family who love you with the Father’s love, your freedom from sin, and a clean pair of underoos!

Merry Christmas from the Charlotte Fellows!

*A special thanks to my friend Mark Melvin for jogging my memory and taking time to laugh hysterically at stories like these. And if your sensibilities have been offended, please direct all complaints his way!