Good Siblings

Adelaide, Evie and Dad

My wife recently had a bout of mom-guilt due to what she thought was an overreaction to our eldest daughter's behavior, which had been quite trying one day recently. Adelaide is a sweet, compassionate little girl, but on this particular day, beginning shortly after her emergence from bed, her attitude went sour. She was repeatedly disobedient, especially in the way she was speaking to those around her. She had an episode with a neighbor girl where she said some hurtful things, a few cases of "talking back", and then, just as the day was ending, an outburst directed at her three year old sister, Evie. As the two were playing, Evie moved a book that Adelaide had directed one of her dolls to "read" and this unauthorized interruption of pretend education caused her to harshly blurt out, "Evie! You are such a pest!" My wife, hearing this from the neighboring bedroom, had enough.  She burst into the room, voice raised and finger wagging. Nothing cruel or diminutive was said to Adelaide, but Nikki made it abundantly clear that in the Douglass house, we love one another, we don't belittle with our words and comments like hers would not be tolerated. Adelaide got the message, as evidenced by tears, and obediently apologized to her sister.

Looking back on the situation, Nikki felt bad because she worried that her reaction was too strong. An older sister calling a younger sister a pest isn't that uncommon, and there are far worse interactions between siblings. But behind Nikki's anger was the awareness that words are powerful and can damage, resulting in empathy for a child whose feelings were hurt and disappointment in another for doing the hurting. In addition to frustration, there was a little meanness in the tone of Adelaide's statement, and Nikki rightly wanted to root even that small kernel of cruelty out for fear that it might take up more permanent residence in her heart. My counsel to my wife was that she had done nothing wrong and that strong reactions to sin are for our kids' benefit. This is in fact, the example we have from our heavenly Father, exemplified here in Jeremiah 5:23, 25-29 (HCSB, emphasis mine):

But these people have stubborn and rebellious hearts.
They have turned aside and have gone away...
Your sins have withheld My bounty from you,
for wicked men live among My people.
They watch like fowlers lying in wait.
They set a trap;
they catch men.
Like a cage full of birds,
so their houses are full of deceit.
Therefore they have grown powerful and rich.
They have become fat and sleek.
They have also excelled in evil matters.
They have not taken up cases,
such as the case of orphans, so they might prosper,
and they have not defended the rights of the needy.
Should I not punish them for these things?

God was tired of watching his own children treat each other cruelly, living selfishly and in disobedience and His tone is angry and exasperated. He is at His wit's end seeing those who are rich neglecting those who are poor, such as when an older sibling refuses to treat a younger, more vulnerable sibling with the care and respect of family. Through the prophet, He unleashes the chastisement of an indignant heavenly Father, warning that His wrath is not far behind if correction is not heeded.

Reading this passage, I can't help but reflect on my role as a "sibling" in the family of God. I know that I'm rich. I have a home, two cars and a motorcycle, a few investments, numerous modern conveniences and more techno toys than my time allows me to fully maximize. I have more food than is healthy for me on a daily basis and I'm highly educated with no fear of medical treatment, police protection or property rights being unaccessible. God calls that "fat and sleek" and though I honestly wouldn't count myself as a wicked man, "full of deceit and excelling in evil matters", I do wonder whether or not I've truly taken up the case of orphans, my little brothers and sisters in Christ, that they might prosper. My role as Executive Director of Orphan Justice Mission is no free pass; I must continually grow in my personal commitment to orphans in the family of God, not just in preventing myself from doing evil to them, but in learning to do good, so they might prosper (Isaiah 1:17-18).

Orphans in Africa can seem very far away from us here in America (and thus ignorable), but in today's world they aren't. It takes some effort, sure, but we are fully capable of assisting those in with dire need like never before, wherever they are found. If we don't, I worry that what God passed on through Jeremiah to Israel might be applied to us, that like my wife with our girls, His heart would be broken (and angered) to see His children behaving so poorly. I invite you, with me, to heed our Father's instruction, apologize for our negligence and start loving our little orphaned brothers and sisters as we ought. Supporting Orphan Justice Mission is a great place to start.

Encounter Retreat 2010 - What's My Prayer Life Like?

This question (what's my prayer life like) doesn't surprise me. I think it's a part of a cadre of curiosities that crop up around anybody who takes the pulpit. Whenever I listen to a speaker or preacher who has the hubris to tell other people how to live their lives or seek God, I'm always thinking, "Is this dude legit? Does he practice what he's preaching?" I'm not saying that all preachers are arrogant, but we do need a certain confidence in ourselves that we have something to say and the righteousness to be qualified to teach others. In 1 Corinthians 9:27, Paul states, "Instead, I discipline my body and bring it under strict control, so that after preaching to others, I myself will not be disqualified." And we know that one of the big problems in the church today (well, okay, since always) is the hypocrisy of the priesthood. It's always been a challenge for men who are called to lead others by example in pursuit of God to stay on course, especially in a discipline like prayer, which is less open to public view. It's not hard for a preacher who is telling others to hit their knees and to find he hasn't been on his in awhile.

Every preacher has to wrestle with the difficulty of presenting God's instruction to others knowing full well that he falls short himself. I had to deal with it very early on. I don't deal well with hypocrisy, especially in my own life, which was one of the reasons I left the youth ministry several years ago. I had not yet matured to the point where I felt I could consistently tell my kids to read their Bible everyday, PRAY, serve, etc., because I didn't feel I was doing them well. And speaking about living for God is a lot different than actually doing the living, so my position as a youth pastor was little comfort. Now, a part of my scenario was my own idealistic (might we say legalistic?) view of a disciplined Christian life (up at 4:30am to pray for an hour, feed the chickens with the other monks at 5:30, read the LXX from 6 to 8, go to work, worship over lunch, make beeswax candles in the afternoon and chant yourself to sleep). I was told and shown over the years that Christians pray everyday and read their Bible constantly. Those were the biggies, but what was hard for me, and always left me feeling guilty, was that I wasn't that disciplined. I couldn't pray all day every day. I got bored. I eventually realized that my struggle with those things was that my primary motivation for doing them was a sense of obligation. It wasn't that I really wanted to know God, it was just what Christians, especially youth pastors, did. It was not until I started to let go of some of my legalistic inward motivations and let my Bible study and prayer disciplines be shaped by my actual life circumstances that they became truly meaningful excercises in my life.

A word of caution here. There's much to be said for discipline, which we all know isn't usually very fun. We may not feel like praying or reading our Bible every moment or even when we know it's what we ought to be doing, but maybe we should anyway. I'm not suggesting that we should be wholly driven by feelings. As my buddy Dietrich B. has said, it's often the faith that follows obedience, not the other way around. But you may need to step away from rigid empty habits for a time in order to rediscover the romantic, organic dependence on the Spirit of God that lets you have true moments of intimacy with Him through reading your Bible or praying.

So, all that to say that my prayer life, in one word, is "improving". Prayer for me, apart from a sometimes guilt-induced exercise, has just been hard even when I approach it with a sincere heart. I grew up hearing that prayer is "just like talking with a friend". Yeah, maybe a mute friend who you only get to talk with on the phone. God seemed strangely quiet to me most of the time and our "conversations" felt like one way affairs. If you're one of those people who "hear" from God, I'm skeptical/jealous. I've asked God many, many times since I was very young to speak to me. Not fuzzy feeling, wake-up-from-a-good-night's-rest-and-have-a-hunch kind of speak; not the conglomeration-of-all-my-godly-friends'-opinions kind of speak, but "Hi, Kyle, I'm Yahweh. Now, about that career path you were considering..." kind of speak. So far, He hasn't taken me out to coffee. This expectation, however, produced a lot of frustration and even doubt in my heart. Is God really there? Is He being rude? Say something, Lord!

I've gotten past this expectation of prayer for various reasons, and it has greatly improved my prayer life. First, I've been helped by the fact that, when I look at the people God speaks to, I realize I don't hold a candle to them. Sure, they were all sinners like me, no one is righteous, not one, blah blah. But most of the folks that get to hear the voice of God were sold out mommas and papas who demonstrated crazy faithfulness and holiness. Not that they didn't mess up, but they purusued God hard. I confess I haven't put forth that kind of effort. Have I stayed up all night long, meditating on God's law and crying out to be saved from my enemies like David? Nope. Have I been exiled to Babylon and decided to eat brocoli the rest of my life and disobey a directive of the King to pray to him only at the risk of my life like Daniel? Nope. Have I wondered around Asia minor getting pummeled in every way imaginable just to share the Good News with pagans like Paul? Nope. So step one was realizing that I'm no spiritual giant and that if the fault is anyone's, it's mine. Yet, these scriptural examples of godly men of prayer inspire me and teach me and maybe someday I'll get there (God didn't speak to many young guys, btw). Secondly, human effort aside (and I would say that accounts for maybe 10% of the problem), God's will is mysterious and He shows mercy and favor to whom He will. He has not yet found it necessary to speak to me directly and He may never. I'm okay with that. My job then, is to try and overcome my spiritual laziness and pursue God through prayer in ever increasing measure. I don't expect God to speak to me anymore, I simply talk to Him and know He's listening and I'm okay with that. The other angle on this is that God sometimes speaks to those on whom He's about to put the smack down, so we ought to be careful what we wish for.

I haven't heard God speak much, but I've seen Him answer numerous prayers in my life. My wife, my kids, my job decisions are all things I've prayed over and He's blessed me. Some things I haven't gotten, but that's okay. I see in the overall framework of my life that God is guarding me, leading me, shaping me. I rejoice when my request lines up with what He knows is best for me and grants it. Many of the prayers He's answered have been weak ones, too. Ones I've just sort of thrown up, too weak to really put any umph behind them, which has reminded me that it's not by my effort but by His amazing power that His will is accomplished.

So, nuts and bolts: In reference to my description of "improving" above, I'm finding myself praying more and more and with more faith as I take more opportunities to voice my thoughts to God. I don't have specific prayer time in my day; I pray sporadically as things come to mind, in all sorts of places and at various times. Driving, mowing the lawn, reading the Bible, waiting for a download to complete or reading a friend's email are all times when I might feel the need to pray. My most thorough prayers are with friends, though. Whether at church or in a Bible study or sitting in the living room talking about life, I love those times of prayer most, when we together move some sound waves in God's direction. I pray with my kids at meals, bedtime and at other random times, too. I want them to know how to pray more than a bedtime Jesus poem. Nikki and I pray, but not as consistently as we'd like (that's definitely something to work on).

Another thing I've found really helpful is to pray scripture. If you're struggling to know how or what to pray, open your Bible to the Psalms (though many other passages work well, too) and read a couple verses and decide in your heart that the Psalmist's prayer or praise is yours, too. I've found that to be a great way to prime the pump.

That's my prayer life. I make no pretense that I'm a prayer warrior. I've often felt it was the weakest part of my spiritual walk. If I preach it hard, I'm likely telling myself to get with it as much as anybody else, trying not to get disqualified. But I can tell you from personal experience, without an ounce of hypocrisy, that if you give God an inch in your life through prayer, He'll take a mile. Imagine how far we would go if we truly learned to pray without ceasing.

Exciting News!! I changed my blog name

Taking a Walk...meh. Sounded kind of cheesy to me. So I changed it. Stuff Kyle Says. Also dumb, but more descriptive and less euphemistic. Maybe I'll get really popular and people will refer to my blog as SKS, like "Hey, did you see that sweet article on SKS?" That's awesome. And highly unlikely.

Response to "Then All H–ck Broke Loose"

Below is my reply to an article (Then All H–ck Broke Loose) that the founder of my organization Orphan Justice Mission Tim Stoner wrote recently. It's a great piece and adds to the discussion regarding Rob Bell's new book Love Wins.

************

Tim, well done. I always appreciate your sense of historical context and it's a reminder (which Rob mentions also in his piece on Good Morning America's website) that we are just another link in the long chain of sinners and saints who have for ages been wrestling with God over these big questions. Is there an older one than "Can a good God allow suffering?" (isn't Job the oldest book in the Bible?).

I respect Rob. I spent time at Mars when I was in G.R. and I learned a lot from him. My main take away was the repetitive teaching that Christianity is not about tickets to heaven, but about God's transformative work in our lives now, that He's Lord now, not just someday but here, in this moment. This was a powerful motivation in my effort to get involved with Orphan Justice Mission (as we discussed at that first meeting in the M-6 Panera) and still informs my Christian worldview. I've also known he's been theologically controversial in the past, and I have given him grace, knowing that all of us, like it or not, get something wrong, possibly even our strongest convictions. Yet what I witnessed during my time at Mars was a sincere love of Christ, an appreciation for the scriptures and call for faith-based action (and some of the best worship I've ever been a part of).

That being said, this one has me worried. I think it's extremely difficult to argue that Hell is not Hell (even if you rely on the faulty assumption that God some how changed between the Old and New Testaments). God is not clear on everything, much to the surprise of my more fundamental friends. I have always appreciated Rob's emphasis on the discussion, or the "white space" surrounding the black characters on the pages of scripture, as he calls it. This is not saying there isn't truth or that somethings can't be known for sure, but the very fact that God has decided to entrust his record to stories, poetry and letters says that he's okay with us having questions, with having to dig and debate and wrestle to find truth. Hell is certainly one of those topics in which we are given only small snippets of and we ought to be careful not to claim we know all there is to know about it. What the scriptures do make clear, however, outside of hyperbole or metaphor, is that it exists, it will suck and is for those who have rejected Jesus Christ. Hard, yes, but that's the Bible, so I appreciate your point that God defines God, not man, and He has decided to show us all of his qualities, Love and all the other traits that help us understand what holy love is. I will read Rob's book and hold onto my hope that he's not going where everyone says he's going. I remain indebted to much of his teaching, but if he has become a universalist, well, that's lame and shows a blatant disregard for core teachings of scripture.

Just a few left over thoughts:

I think your position that Rob can't conceive of a God who causes, engages in, is present during suffering is faulty. I have not read his book Drops Like Stars, but I think that's the whole idea, that God actually uses suffering in our lives to create beauty. Mars Hill has also used Lent in a very orthodox sense as a time of reflection on human suffering and the Passion narrative.

Also, for those railing Rob and triumphantly, boldly, cockily celebrating the existence of Hell out of a sense of pious scriptural orthodoxy, I would say be careful (not talking about you here :) ). One of my greatest frustrations with Rob's opposition is their arrogance. For example, I once heard John MacAurther on the radio essentially insulting Rob, not just his theology or his teachings, but him personally. And the now famous tweet from John Piper "Farewell, Rob Bell." Rob's teaching may be dangerous, but the posture and behavior of some of our best evangelical theologians fits easily into the definition of hypocrite. The write well about the Spirit of Christ in our lives, but don't present it well in public. The one thing the universalists may have going for them is that they have a more complete understanding of the terribleness of Hell, and more love for those who would be/are doomed to such a fate than those of us who so boldly talk of the judgment of God because we believe we are protected from it. They simply can't hold the tension between love and holiness and so remove it rather than allowing God to remain above a perceived paradox. Evangelicals may have it right by acknowledging God's judgement, but I would love to see those who fight so vehemently for Hell's existence work just as hard keeping people out of it. And that takes way more than just clean cut doctrine.

Encounter Retreat 2010 - The Young Marriage Question

So...welcome back, myself. Haven't posted since 2009. Shame, shame. Got a good reason to get the gears turning again, however. I just spoke at Miracle Camp's 2010 Encounter Retreat for college folk. It was a good time studying Colossians (4 sessions, 4 chapters, right, ya'll?). During the third session, where we got into some of Paul's more practical day-to-day living suggestions, I opened things up for a question and answer free-for-all. We only got about half way through, but I promised to answer the rest somehow. Thus, my return to the Blogosphere. I won't do them all at once but will answer one to three questions per blog; not two, nor four shall I compose but two, yet sometimes three and at times one shall be my...I'm sorry–couldn't help the descent into a Monty Python reference.

So, to kick it off, an obviously hot topic:

Question 1: How the heck did you get married at 19? And how did you know?
Question 2: You were 19 when you got married, at such a young age how did you know she was the woman for you, a sign from God?

Thanks, person, for the almost-swear for emphasis! Yes, there were times I thought it was crazy, too.

So, how I got married at 19: Step 1 - found a woman, Step 2 - made her like me, Step 4 - refused to be reasonable and asked her to marry me, Step 5 - smiled and nodded as she planned the wedding. Easy as that. Maybe, however that leaves a few important things out, like asking her dad for permission (which I did).

Cuteness aside, I got married at 19 because I felt I found a woman that I could commit to for the rest of my life. No, I didn't get a message from God about Nikki and standing in Zales looking at rings and deciding if I was really going to go through with it was a totally freaky decision, but a decision made on good evidence. We shared the same values, we loved being in each other's company, we were both athletes, enjoyed each other's families, lived in the same area, etc. Nikki actually had a list of 40 some qualities in a husband and I met them all except two: good singer and handles money well. I'm happy to say I'm growing in both, but the idea is that a lot of things lined up. I still had to make a leap, though. It's like sky-diving. You check and double-check your 'chute, but at some point you just have to jump.

When I talked about the idea of marrying Nikki with people I respected, they all thought it was a little soon but didn't think it was necessarily a bad idea. We didn't have much money, but we both "worked" (Nikki had school paid for through a scholarship at Western) and I was a part-time youth director. We also had very supportive family, which made it a lot easier early on and took some of the pressure off of us financially. And personality-wise, we were both mature enough to take the marriage step. Not that we were totally prepared for all that marriage entailed, but the foundation was there. I can't say that's true for everybody (and that's not a slam - it's just reality). So for us, it worked.

That's not to say that part of it wasn't youthful zeal and impatience. I'm not good at waiting, and in this case that's mildly Biblical. It's not Biblical to be stupid, but Paul says in 1 Corinthians 7:9 that even though it's better to remain unmarried (for unhindered service to God), if they don't have self-control (which I didn't have much of at 19), let the couple be married so they don't burn with passion. Thank you, Jesus.

A few thoughts for those thinking about young marriage:

• Marriage doesn't make a relationship better - it puts it through the fire to see if it can last.
• Marriage makes life easier in some respects (you don't have to drive home every night at 1 A.M.)
• You will both have a lot of growing up to do (you will change as people and will have to deal with the "you're not the same person I married" scenario, which everyone deals with but more so when you marry young).
• Money will make life hard (not having it or having it).
• Not being established in careers will mean big compromises. Be ready to potentially give up some big dreams to stay together.

Overall, I'll say that marrying Nikki was absolutely the right choice. Marriage is one of God's greatest tools for shaping someone's life and character, and if you're going to jump in, just be ready for the chiseling process. The result, if you're up to it, is a thing of matchless beauty.

Praying in McDonalds

I got done with my Tuesday morning Bible study with my two little brothers this morning and decided to set up camp and work for awhile. It had all the fixin's for moderate productivity: a big table, annoying pay-as-you-go AT&T wifi (e.g. no internet distraction), and the cooling half of a medium mocha.

As I'm crunching away on a policy document, my iPhone gently turns down the music to inform me of an incoming call. My sister Kelli is on the phone. Slightly panicked and near tears, she tells me that a friend of hers, who I also happen to know through church, has been in a motorcycle accident. She just received the news from a second hand source who had little information but told her, "it doesn't look good."

A sinking feeling came over me. This acquaintance of ours lost his sixteen year old son in a terrible car accident not two years ago and he has surviving twin sons. I got the tingly sensation in my jaw and finger tips that accompanies the possibility of crushing tragedy. Not another member of that family, not so soon, not in such a similar way. Kelli, who is currently re-exploring the Faith right now, asked me pointedly, "Will you pray, Kyle?" I said I would and hung up the phone.

Two booths down from me sat another acquaintance of mine, talking with his wife. He had said hello to me on his way to his seat. He used to serve in a local church; they are Christians. I needed to pray, but for some reason, I didn't want to pray alone. Though I was mildly embarrassed to interrupt their conversation to ask them to pray for a situation that was unconfirmed but potentially devastating, I took off my head phones and walked over to their booth. They looked up politely and I told them the story, closing with, "Would you guys mind praying with me?" My friend said, "sure," slid over and let me sit down. We each prayed, not long, but enough. Part of my prayer, besides surrendering to the will of God, was that this information would be incorrect, that Kelli would have gotten an exaggerated version or a false report. In my heart, I was asking God to roll back time, to undo the deed–the same prayer I had prayed as a little boy after the reality of my mom's death sank in. Not knowing our friend's actual situation gave me ridiculous hope that maybe it wasn't too late yet, the nonsensical faith that wondered if things that may have already been done could be changed. We got to the amens, I thanked them and returned to my seat.

I then called Dave, our friend's pastor. I told him I didn't know much of the story or the actual severity of the accident, but that he should probably check it out. Though we didn't speak it, I could tell from his voice that we both understood what the worst case could mean for this family. He thanked me and hung up. I tried to go back to typing, wondering whether there was more I should do.

About ten minutes later, Dave called. What would be the news? He sounded happy. "He's alright," he reported. "He was in an accident, but besides a few stitches and possible surgery on his thumb, he's fine. He's headed home right now." Thank God.

Did God answer MY prayer? Did He answer ours? Did He really roll back time, undo the deed, bring our friend back from the dead? To say yes would be pretty self-centric of me; God is not rearranging fate on my behalf. The trouble with expecting God to answer a prayer is that there are many more vantage points than that of single petitioner; giving one person what he or she wants may mess up what God wants for everybody else. And yet, as I just read the other day, Jesus tells us that if we believe, we can cast mountains into the sea (heal bodies, steer motorcycles, ripple time?). I don't know what God was doing this morning in McDonald's, if anything. I could not disagree with someone who would say, "Your prayer just happened to line up with what had already happened." But, whatever the case, we prayed for something and it came true. Again, thank God.

Key to the Cuboard

I found this sermon excerpt by F. B. Meyer profoundly impacting. I came across it in Dave Browning's book Deliberate Simplicity. He pulled it from www.sermonindex.net on August 8, 2008, from Meyer's sermon entitled "What Is It?". I have nearly nothing to add to it; it speaks for itself. My only question to you is the question I had to ask myself: have you let Christ take your last key?

Sixteen years ago I was a minister in a Midland town in England, not at all happy, doing my work for the pay I got, but holding a good position amongst my fellows. Hudson Taylor and two young students came into my life. I watched them. They had something I had not. Those young men stood there in all their strength and joy. I said to Charles Studd:
"What is the difference between you and me? You seem so happy, and I somehow am in the trough of the wave."
He replied: "There is nothing that I have got which you may not have, Mr. Meyer."
But I asked: "How am I to get it?"
"Well," he said, "have you given yourself right up to God?"
I winced. I knew that if it came to that, there was a point where I had been fighting my deepest convictions for months. I had lived away from it, but when I came to the Lord's table and handed out the bread and wine, then it met me; or when I came to a convention or meeting of holy people, something stopped me as I remembered this. It was the one point where my will was entrenched. I thought I would do something with Christ that night which would settle it one way or the other, and I met Christ. You will forgive a man who owes everything to one night in his life if to help other men he opens his heart for a moment. I knelt in my room and gave Christ the ring of my will with the keys on it, but kept one little key back, the key of a closet in my heart, in one back story in my heart. He said to me, "Are they all here?" And I said: "All but one." "What is that?" said He.
"It is the key of a little cupboard," said I, "in which I have got something which Thou needest not interfere with, but it is mine."
Then, as He put the keys back into my hand, and seemed to be gliding away to the door, He said:
"My child, if you cannot trust Me with all, you do not trust Me at all."
I cried: " Stop," and He seemed to come back; and holding the little key in my hand, in thought I said:
"I cannot give it, but if Thou wilt take it Thou shalt have it."
He took it, and within a month from that time He had cleared out that little cupboard of things which had been there for months. I knew He would.
May I add one word more? Three years ago I met the thing I gave up that night, and as I met it I could not imagine myself being such a fool as nearly to have sold my birthright for that mess of pottage.
I looked up into the face of Christ and said: "Now I am thine." It seemed as if that was the beginning of a new ministry. The Lord got me on His wheel again, and He made me again, and He has been making me again ever since.