Slow Down

I have a Kenyan family. We’re not biologically related but they are family.

I knew Marwa’s name long before we met. We had corresponded for years before I first touched down in Nairobi and got to hug him for the first time. Then I met his wife – and in her found one of the sweetest of friends I’ve ever known.

We spent little time together the first time I visited – and I left wishing we’d gotten more time together.

I came back the next year and Maggie asked me to go on a walk. We had nowhere to be. We were in no rush to get back.

But I’m used to being hurried. I’m used to moving quickly. So, not five minutes into our walk I was several paces ahead of her – and I didn’t even know where I was going.

“Why are you walking so fast,” she asked me. “Slow down. We are spending time together. There is no rush.”

She was right.

I wanted to spend time with Maggie. I wanted to talk with her and get to know her. But I was rushing our time because I am so accustomed to having another place to be.

There was nowhere else for me to be. I was in Kenya. I had no cellphone service and virtually no internet access. I literally had nothing to do but be present with those I was there to love and serve and enjoy.

But hurry is a habit. Hurry is a disordering of priorities.

I loved the time I got with Maggie. I love how that long, unhurried walk deepened our friendship.

But I really love how it changed me.

Since that walk, I try not to schedule anything after I schedule time with a friend. It doesn’t always work out. But I try to be as available as I can be for as long as I can be to relationship.

I’m learning to slow down. I’m learning to be there for relationship. I’m learning to prioritize the people I love.

Tasks lists matter. I know they do. We’re called to productive lives. We’re called to make a difference.

But when I die, I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine with all that didn’t get done.

I’m pretty sure I’ll remember walks with Maggie and coffee with friends and dinner with my parents and playing with nieces and nephews.

I’m pretty sure I’ll be glad I slowed down.

Hey Patrick, It's Grandpa...

I don’t answer phone calls from numbers I don’t recognize. I figure if it’s important they’ll leave a message, and I can return it as soon as I’m able.

The last couple of weeks I’ve gotten a series of calls from Branson, Missouri. I don’t know anyone in Branson, so I didn’t answer. I assumed it was a telemarketer.

But the other night, the caller left a message.

“Hey Patrick. It’s Grandpa. I just wanted to see how you were doing. I miss you. Call me when you can. I love you. Bye.”

 I called back.

The same sweet voice that left the message on my phone answered my call.

I explained who I was and told him that, unfortunately, this was not Patrick’s number.

“Oh, thank you so much for calling, sweetie,” he said. “I was so worried that he was just too busy to talk to me anymore.”

That broke my heart.

And it convicted me.

I’ve lost most of my grandparents. But I still have parents. Siblings. Nieces and nephews. Aunts and uncles. Cousins. Friends.

I’m ashamed to admit I’ve often been “too busy” for the relationships that I say matter most to me.

I don’t want the people I love to ever feel like I’m too busy to talk to them.

No, I won’t always be able to shoot the breeze. No, I can’t always interrupt my day just to chat.

I have to have boundaries in order to do what God has called me to do. I’m not suggesting you welcome every interruption to your day. I know I can’t.

But I want to be available for relationship. I want to know how the people I love are doing. I want to be there when they need me.

Patrick didn’t know his Grandpa was trying to call.

But don’t be too busy to take that call when you get it.

And - I’m speaking more to myself than anyone here - don’t be too busy to pick up the phone and call the people you love.

Forgive Us

Forgiveness was central to Jesus’ mission and message.

It comes as no surprise, then, that He included forgiveness in the prayer He taught us.

We begin by seeking and receiving forgiveness and then, in turn, extend forgiveness to others.

The order matters.

We can’t give what we don’t have.

We’ll talk about extending forgiveness later, but we must start with receiving forgiveness.

Theologians speak of two types of forgiveness.

Positional forgiveness is the forgiveness we receive when we trust in the death of Jesus to cover our sin. In other words, our sin no longer keeps us in a position of separation from God.

Our status before God has changed from enemy to child, from hopeless to assured, from condemned to forgiven.

If you’ve never experienced positional forgiveness before God, that is where you start. We can’t move onto the second type of forgiveness until we’ve settled this one.

Relational forgiveness is the forgiveness God extends in the context of your relationship with Him.

The Bible tells us that when we received positional forgiveness, we were adopted as children of God. We can call Him Father.

I have often failed my earthly father. I have often hurt him with my words and with my actions. I have often had to seek his forgiveness.

Despite those failures, I never stopped being his child. My position before him hadn’t changed.

The forgiveness I seek, then, is relational forgiveness. I don’t seek forgiveness because I’m no longer his child. I seek forgiveness because I am his child. I don’t want there to be any barriers to the closeness of our relationship.

It’s the same with God.

If you’re a Christian, God calls you to seek His forgiveness – not because your position before Him has changed. You seek forgiveness not because you are no longer His child, but because you are His child. He doesn’t want there to be any barriers to the closeness of your relationship.

If you’ve never received God’s positional forgiveness, what is holding you back? Don’t wait. Don’t put it off. He is there, holding it out, extending the offer. Take it.

If you’re already a Christian, are you in the habit of confessing your sin to God and seeking His forgiveness? Are there any barriers getting in the way of the closeness of your relationship? Don’t let there be.

Wherever you are, there is good news. God is ready and willing to forgive all those who come to Him.

The Middle of Stories

When Steve Jobs passed away a few years ago, his sister, Mona Simpson, gave his eulogy. I remember reading it in the New York Times the next day and something she said leapt off the page at me. "We all — in the end — die in medias res. In the middle of a story. Of many stories."

She's right.

But life, as well as death, happens in the middle of many stories.

People have moved in and out of mine. Some stepped out of my story far too soon and others overstayed their welcome. Some have been a source of great joy and others have left pain and hurt in their wake. Some have changed me in ways I can hardly explain and others I can barely remember. But all have left their mark.

We live and die, work and play, laugh and grow, in the middle of stories, of many stories.

We shape each other's plots.

We impact each other's stories.

We change each other's lives.

What an incredible responsibility it is to know that, for better or worse, we leave a mark.

What mark will you leave?

Hot Pockets

I love stand-up comedy.

Of all my (many) quirks, this is the one my family teases me about most often, probably because I think that because I listen to a lot of comedy I, too, must be hilarious. Apparently, it does not work that way.  But, I digress.

The reason I love stand-up comedy is that it exposes ridiculous human behaviors through the lens of the mundane. We are bizarre creatures and don’t even know it.

The other night, I went to see one of my favorite comedians – Jim Gaffigan. He is known for his bits on food and is best known for his piece on Hot Pockets.

If you’ve never had a Hot Pocket, congratulations. You are in an elite club  that comprises seven other Americans.

Hot Pockets, as described by Gaffigan, are a Pop-Tart crust filled with nasty meat. There is also a vegetarian version for “people who don’t want to eat meat, but still want diarrhea.”

I don’t think anyone is under any illusion that Hot Pockets are healthy. No one thinks they are doing their body any good by consuming a Hot Pocket. Yet, millions are sold every year.

“I’ve never eaten a Hot Pocket and afterwards thought ‘I’m glad I ate that,’” Gaffigan observes.

I listened (and laughed) as he talked about Hot Pockets, and thought about how I have made a lot of choices I know aren’t good for me, exposing me as the ridiculous person I am.

I've chosen to cling to jealousy and watched my gratitude erode.

I've chosen to be dishonest and watched trust deteriorate.

I've chosen selfishness and watched relationships break down.

I've never given into greed, arrogance, impatience, anger, disloyalty, or cowardice, and afterwards thought, "I'm glad I did that."

There's just nothing funny about self-destruction.

I'm going to be more careful about what I let into my heart. There is too much at stake.

Good Over Fast

A couple nights ago, a friend and I met at a local coffee shop to catch up. Our conversation turned to traveling and she began telling me about the time she and her husband spent in Europe. 

She said that they quickly noticed that the Europeans seemed, on the whole, to be more fit that most Americans, even though local businesses would close down in the middle of the day to enjoy a long meal and it wasn’t uncommon for dinner to stretch late into the night. My friends couldn’t understand how these people, who seemed to spend so much of their time eating, managed to stay so lean.

Finally, her husband decided to ask a waitress to explain it to him. Her response was profound.

“You eat food fast,” she said. “We eat good food.”

She’s right, I think.

We often opt for fast over good. We choose convenience over quality. We think more about efficiency than we do enjoyment.

And we are paying a price for those choices. Our health is suffering. Cancer and heart disease are prevalent. More than half of all Americans are on medication – many on more than one.

Certainly, food is not the only factor. That’s not really the point, though.

The point is our tendency for fast over good – a mentality that spills into other parts of our lives.

Particularly, our relationships.

It is often how we approach our friendships, our marriages, our children and even God.

Relationships take work. They take investment. They take time. They are meant to be savored, cherished, enjoyed. When we prioritize convenience over community, we miss out on the goodness of relationships. 

And we pay a price for that choice.

I’m going to choose to prioritize the good - the better. I hope you do too.  Slow down. Savor the people in your life. Take time to enjoy your relationships - including (and especially) with God.