northpoint notes

The accident was Tuesday – rear-ended by another car – checked out (O.K.) at the hospital – phone calls to insurance adjusters, body shops and Sheriff’s department. Then there were phone calls from friends and opportunities to tell the story (and get sympathy) to people who care.

Today I received three envelopes – not bulk mail but envelopes with the full 41 cent stamp. These were personal letters. One was a large white packet. All of the envelopes were printed (no labels). These were personal.

I opened them one at a time. Each was from a different attorney. Each had a personal letter to me telling me that they had just learned of my accident; expressing concern for my physical and financial well-being and offering to help.

There were long lists (one with several pages and another with 10 questions I should ask any attorney) of qualifications, awards, promises (mostly about getting money for me) and warnings about the evils of the insurance companies; insisting that I not deal directly with them.

The problem with all of them was that they didn’t answer the questions I was asking. Most anyone who really wants to can earn a law degree and even earn awards and accolades for great settlements. What I want to know about an attorney is:

Is he honest? Does he have integrity? Is he about being fair to both parties or about getting as much from the insurance company as possible? The entire appeal was to greed not justice. The next question that came to mind is why would I trust someone who I don’t know who sends unsolicited mail more than I trust an insurance agent with whom I have done business for 20 years?

Perhaps before this is all over, I will need an attorney – I don’t see the need at this point – if I do, I want someone whose values rise above greed and getting as much as you can out of someone. I want someone who actually lives the values of Jesus in the legal profession. Perhaps that person doesn’t exist.

Three letters – all expressing a desire to come along side and be my friend. Really?

Several years ago I had the privilege of giving leadership to a funeral for a friend. He was a very generous man who had gone to high school with my father. His family was with him during the last hours of his life. The last thing he said was, “I have one more step to take.” A few moments later he was gone.

People speculate about what those last statements might mean. For people of faith, the natural question is, “did he have a glimpse of heaven? Was he telling his family that his next step would take him into the presence of the One he had worshiped for many years?

It was easy to build a message of comfort and hope around that thought. There is a great picture of taking one more step and leaving this world and entering into heaven.

That story is probably 20 years old and yet I have reflected on it many times. Even though I wasn’t in the room when he died the image is still comforting. As I thought about it today, it reminded me that discipleship is always about one more step.

One more step to deeper intimacy with Christ.

One more step to fuller obedience.

One more step to better understanding of His word.

One more step toward loving others as we should.

One more step toward completely forgiving hurts.

One more step toward fully blessing those who mistreat us.

Some give up on following Jesus because it seems too overwhelming – I can’t be good enough, kind enough, disciplined enough. They are right. But if we take one step of faith to trust Him and then ONE MORE STEP to follow. It isn’t long before we realize that while we aren’t perfect, we are indeed walking with Jesus. We look back at all the steps we have taken and we know we can take ONE MORE STEP.

I’m a planner and scheduler. I make plans and work the plans as best I can. I often am frustrated when my plans are interrupted.  Yesterday was one of those days – a MAJOR INTERRUPTION. I was involved in a car accident. I was sitting at an intersection waiting for traffic to pass so I could make a left turn when I heard a loud crash and felt a sudden, severe jolt.  I was hit from behind by a car traveling 35-40 miles per hour.

My original schedule was to stop at my office to pick up work for a later meeting, go to a pastors’ prayer retreat for most of the morning; have lunch with several pastors; spend the rest of the day studying and then go for a run in the evening before having dinner with Kim.

Instead:                                                                                                                                                                                    7:30 – 8:30 AM – Phone calls to 911, Kim, Insurance company, etc regarding the accident; sitting in police car (they didn’t want me walking around – fearing I might have more injuries than were apparent); answering questions from the police and paramedics; being fitted with a neck brace; placed on a board; loaded in an ambulance; transported to the hospital.

8:30 – 10:40 AM – Checked over by nurses and doctor; x-rays; pain medication; more questions about the accident, allergies to medications, etc.; and finally a release from the hospital.

10:40 – 1:00 PM – Trip to the church to pick up my original quest; trip to the towing company to retrieve personal items from the car (it was towed to the opposite side of town); lunch; a stop at the grocery (Kim is driving me around in her car) and finally home.

The rest of the afternoon was spent resting answering phone calls from a few well-wishers who heard about the accident and checking e-mails. It was not the day I had planned.

HOWEVER, the accident could have been much worse. I am doing O.K. and the driver that hit me is doing O.K. as well.  I have received numerous – genuine offers of assistance with transportation until a determination is made regarding my car.

There is a bit of paradox in all of this. On the one hand I am reminded of how fragile life is. It can be taken in an instant and all the planning and scheduling is void and life for others goes on (some will grieve but life goes on). On the other hand I am amazed at the resilience of life. The body can withstand an incredible impact and yet heal.

The pastors I planned to pray with, prayed for me instead of with me as I had planned. The pastors I planned to eat lunch with, ate lunch together (called me and wished me well and assured me of their prayers).

My plans for yesterday and for today and perhaps for the week have been altered because of a rather major interruption.

Some interruptions are just annoying. Others are opportunities to bless other people. This interruption has provided opportunity to reflect – to be reminded not to take myself and my plans too seriously; to be thankful for all God has given and that “down time” is not a bad thing but can actually be healthy.

Our church hosted a block party yesterday – moon walk, dunk tank, clown, face painting, sack races, balloon toss, free food and ice cream. This is our fourth annual event. We do it simply to provide a fun day for the neighbors around the church.

I was asked once, “how many people have come to the church because of the block party?” My response is that it doesn’t matter. This is an opportunity for the church to do something for others without expecting anything in return. It provides an opportunity for the church to serve and to work together.

Sometimes the most important acts are the ones with no visible return. It’s those times when we are simply thinking about others and how we can bless them that we are most blessed and most like Jesus.

Discipleship is about two relationships – our relationship with God and our relationship with our neighbor. Hence Jesus’ command to love God with our whole being and our neighbor as ourselves. “Neighbor” is the broad term to describe people in my life. 

All relationships require attention. In order to grow in my relationship with God, I need time with Him – time to pray, read His Word, time to listen. There are also times of confession and seeking forgiveness for the times I do or say things that are offensive to Him.

Relationships with “neighbors” also require attention. We are prone to discard relationships when tensions exist or wounds occur but it is God’s design for us to work to restore those relationships. He gave specific instructions about confessing our faults to one another and about seeking forgiveness from those we have wounded.

Disciples care enough about both relationships to work at them. Maintaining and restoring those human relationships is not all about personal effort. Our horizontal relationships work best when our virtical relationship is at its best. In other words, there is a God component even in the relationships we have with others. He delights in helping us mend relationships.

THE DIVINE CONNECTION:

Last Sunday a man came to me after the worship service to declare what a great day it was. I first assumed he was about to compliment the morning message. He proceeded to tell me that during the worship time he felt prompted to go to a lady and apologize for things he had said to her a couple of years ago. (Sunday was the first she had been in church for a couple of years). When he went to her, she handed him a note. It was a note of apology from her. She, too felt prompted during the time of worship to apologize to him.

He was ecstatic and told me of the great burden that had been lifted. He had been carrying resentment and hurt and guilt and now it was gone. A relationship had been restored.

There is more to the story – we always have a team of people praying during the worship service. This team felt prompted during the service to pray specifically that relationships would be healed. They knew nothing of the strain between the two people mentioned above. God was speaking to two people in the worship service as well as a team in the prayer room.

The message for the day had nothing to do with restoring relationships and the prayer guides provided to the prayer team didn’t mention anything about relationships.

It was a God thing!!

I once read that the difference between a runner and a jogger is a “race number.” For some the difference between a runner and a jogger is the length of time it takes to run a mile. I call myself a runner not because of a race number (although I have a few) or because of my speed (there isn’t much of that) but because it feels good to say, “I’m a runner.”

That’s mainly what running is about – feeling good – feeling healthy.

It isn’t just about feeling good physically – all that cardiovascular stuff. It’s about time to be alone, to reflect, to work out a day’s frustrations, to rid the mind of clutter and allow creative juices to flow. There may be other ways of accomplishing all of that but for me running has been a great blessing.

Sometimes, on my morning run, I have my own private conversations with people who frustrate me. There are times when I simply enjoy my surroundings (a bright moon on a fresh dusting of snow or a 1/2 dozen deer crossing the road at dawn). Some times I pray.

This is my time – away from phone and computer and people. It’s just me and God and a small piece of the world He created.

A friend of mine has been writing about signs and I was reminded of a sign from my childhood. It was in front of a small “mom and pop” store. It was before there were convenience stores and gas stations that sold groceries. It was a cluttered store that sold “essentials” – a few canned goods, bread, milk, a few selections of cereal, charcoal (and lighter fluid), matches, lunch meats, hot dogs and buns, small boxes of soap and candy bars. I think there was one gas pump (manned by the owner) in front of the store that sat on a very pointed, triangular lot.

The sign out front: LAST CHANCE

It was the store that remained open when all other stores were closed. It was for those people who forgot to pack something for their camping trip or who ran out of milk or who just wanted a late-nite snack. I remember a late night run to LAST CHANCE with my dad. It was closed. We had missed our last chance. There were no other stores in town that would be open and the nearest town with the possibility of having something open was 40 miles away. We truly had missed our last chance.

Today info-mercials urge us to buy because this is the “last chance.” This product will never be offered again at this price. Then a few months later they are making the same pitch. We have come to not believe in last chances. There is always one more opportunity. If we saw the sign – LAST CHANCE – today we would likely keep driving assuming there would be another “last chance” down the road.

The problem is that we really don’t know when our last chance is until the opportunity has passed. If we seized the “last chance,” we sigh in relief, “I made it” or “I did it” or “I got it.” If we miss it, we are filled with regret and grief and may actually suffer because we missed it.

We have friends who will soon be leaving for a work in Southeast Asia. I don’t want to wait until our “last chance” to tell them how proud we are of them and how important they have been in our lives. I don’t want to wait for last chances in relationships. Last chances seem so desperate. I want to encourage, challenge, and bless people regularly so I don’t have to worry about some “last chance” that I may already have missed.

The father of one of my friends died recently.  He was 98 years old.  I can only imagine the changes he saw in the span of those 98 years. As I thought about his life (I have known him casually for 40 years)  I was impressed with his ability to command the respect of people of various generations. 

Perhaps it was his deep voice or the confidence he exuded when he talked. Actually, I think it came from the interest he showed in people – people of all ages. He had outlived most of his contemporaries. Yet he still had friends.

In contrast, I have conducted funerals for others who had outlived their contemporaries and there were only a handful of people who came to remember and show their respect. I remember feeling sad – not that there weren’t more to pay their respects but that this person must have been lonely in his senior years.

Last year a friend of mine died. I had known him for 40 years. He had been one of my college professors. A few years later we were actually colleagues – serving in similar capacities in different parts of the country. When he retired, we simply became friends – actually I think we became friends a long time ago. He was the same age as my own father but he was one of those men who always took an interest in the next generation. He knew my children and always asked about them and they were sad when he died.

These men remind me of the value of making friends with young people:

To listen instead of insisting on telling “my stories.”

To learn instead of insisting on the “way it used to be” or the “way we did it.”

To ask how they are doing instead of telling of my woes.

To be genuinely interested in their lives instead of being consumed with my own busy-ness.

To be available when my counsel is desired and to not be offended if it is ignored.

To have time for them instead of having a schedule so full they always need an appointment.

I want to be their cheerleader rather than their critic.

What defines a good day?

Is it a great deal on a purchase? Unexpected income? A raise (which could be unexpected income)?

Is it a day with family – especially grandchildren? A cup of coffee with friends? A vacation day that was truly a day of rest?

Is it the completion of long project? Perhaps a good grade in a class? A day without conflict with someone?

Is it a day when you receive affirmations for a job well done or for being the person you are? Is it a day when someone recognizes and affirms an area of growth in your life?

For some, perhaps a good day is simply being able to get out of bed. In some parts of the world, a good day might be sleeping through the night without being awakened by gunshots or bombs.

Usually, if I think about a good day, it has to do with my personal comfort, emotions, accomplishments, affirmations or other form of blessing.

Sunday was one of those good days. Five people gave a public expression of their faith in Jesus as savior. They were baptized, and in doing so, affirmed a death to their old life and and resurrection to a new life in Christ and affirmed that their sins have been forgiven – washed away. It was a good day that saw five people express that incredible blessing of knowing they are forgiven.

A good day for me is any day there are people who are set free from the bondage to sin. These 5 were simply giving a public statement to a step of faith they had taken previously to trust Jesus as the One who paid for their sins.

Good days like this can occur in any neighborhood; any culture; even in the midst of a war zone.

My first car was a 1958 Chevy BelAir, 4-door, hardtop. It had a small V-8 engine (283 CID engine with a 2-barrel carberator). Though it wasn’t a big engine, it was plenty fast enough for me. Now and then there would be some carbon build-up in the engine and I had learned from my dad that a good way to care for that would be to take it out on the highway and open it up (go fast). I’m not sure my dad would claim responsibility for teaching me that but it gave me an excuse to see how fast it would go (reached 105) and at the same time blow the carbon out so that it would run better.

I was reminiscing about my 1958 Chevy while preparing for a sermon on Matthew 5:8 – blessed are the pure in heart for they will see God.  The Greek word for “pure” is “katharos” from which we get the word “catharsis.”

Definition of catharsis: The purging of the emotions or relieving of emotional tensions; discharge of pent-up emotions so as to result in the alleviatioin of symptoms or the permanent relief of the condition.

Origin: Greek – Katharsis – cleansing – (blowing out the carbon in my ‘58 Chevy).

 There are other words Jesus could have used for “pure,” but he chose this one.

Just considering the definitions above, “catharsis,” is a process. The process of ridding oneself of junk in ones life that causes us to function at a level less than our potential.

There is another place where this same word is used to desribe a “pure body.” In that context it meant unadorned – no jewels or creams but “pure.”

So what is Jesus saying to us about the “pure” heart and what does it have to do with seeing God?

Could it be that a “pure heart” is one that has been cleansed of those things that blur our vision of God? Things like: wounds – those cruel words or deeds that have left scars

Things like: bitterness, anger, rage that creep in because of wounds or disappointments

Things like: sinful behavior or sinful thoughts

Things like: Personal ambition that puts my desires ahead of God.

Seeing God is not just about someday meeting Him (can be a scary thought) but of having all the emotional scars, the sinful behaviors, the selfish ambitions removed so that we can see Him everyday.

Like my ‘58 Chevy, I need help with all of that. First God is the only one who can do the cleansing. I also need fellow disciples who help me see the barriers that are blocking my vision of Him.