Robin Williams, Sticker Shock and Hope

From the Instagram of
@TheRobinWilliams on the
set of "The Crazy Ones".

"Well, that's gotta be a social media hoax," I thought when I saw tweets regarding the passing of Robin Williams.  It just didn't seem plausible.  But a quick Google search revealed the headlines no one wanted to read and from which no one could seem to turn away.

And worse, he died at his own hand.

It was as if the whole world sighed a teary-eyed "no"  in defiance of the story.  Social media flooded with pictures, memes, quotes, memories, memorials.  A majority of Twitter trending topics for the next 2 days were his movie titles.  The top 5 out of 6 "watching" choices on Facebook's status options were his movies rather than anything current or recent.  I personally pulled out a VHS copy of Aladdin to watch. (Yes, VHS believe it or not.)  People normally unaffected by celebrity news seemed to be affected by this.  Someone who brought such joy, who filled our childhoods with pleasant memories, who always made you laugh even when he made you cringe at impropriety, was just gone.

And worse, he wanted to be.

I obviously never met the man.  I was certainly entertained by him.  He seemed nice and from all accounts, he genuinely was as kind and sweet as you could imagine.  Fellow comedian Dennis Miller said of him, "At the core, his default set was gentle and his unconscious was sweet."  Williams recently starred in the CBS comedy "The Crazy Ones", a comedy about an iconic advertising executive played by Williams and created by the quirky and wildly brilliant David E. Kelley.  I was a fan of the show and may never forgive CBS not only for not picking it up for another season, but also for removing the episodes from their app.  It was hilarious, and at the end when credits rolled they would play outtakes and riffs by Williams and the cast.  Ridiculously funny stuff.  Sarah Michelle Gellar played his on-screen daughter in the show, and in her tribute of him, said he was the dad she always dreamed of having.  That is quite a eulogy.

Everyone is talking about mental illness, depression, suicide.  All of which are invaluable discussions to have at any time for any reason.  As someone who wriggles from the clutches of an emotional pit from time to time, freedom to be honest is rare even among friends, but perhaps the ability to speak about it is the beginning of healing.  Bring it to the light and see if it still lives... it likely won't.  "Thoughts untangle themselves over the lips and through the fingertips." (Dr. Howard Hendricks, I believe, but correct me if I'm wrong.)

My lingering heaviness over losing someone I've never known is from a different place though.  I am trying to reconcile the gift with its cost.  I feel like for a long time we've been receiving from him countless laughs, levity, stress relief, entertainment, good will - all of that - and this week we saw the check he'd been writing for it all.  We discovered the bill, and we have sticker shock.  It cost him dearly.  It cost him everything.

And I feel guilty for taking it... now that I know how extravagant it was, how lavishly it was given.  I wanna throw my hand up at the end of a stiff arm and declare, "You can't do that... it's too much."  And not in one of those fake protests like when your BFF wants to spring for lunch or pay for your facial.  No, a real protest when you know they don't have it to spend - when you know it would cost too much and to take it would mean they would do without something they desperately needed.

I wouldn't reduce the issue of depression, anxiety or mental illness down to something as simple as the high cost of celebrity.  It's much more complicated than that.  However, all of this makes me wonder who it is in my circles that smiles on the outside, giving and helping, always sweet and kind, yet on the inside is dying a little every day deeply unhappy, who looks pretty and perfect on the outside and inside feels a gaping hole of sadness and loneliness and fear.

We live in a broken world with broken people - people looking not just for hope but for a reason to hope, for a reason to believe underneath all the chaos and pain is something worth sticking around for.  The more broken the world is, the more we need hope; and the more broken people are, the more we need kindness.  We need to come out from behind the emotional safety of our mini-blinds and not just see others for where they really are, but engage them with kindhearted hope.

People on social media have begun declaring whether or not Robin Williams is in heaven or hell.  I'm more concerned with where he was - in a hopeless place unable to find a kindness to make him want to stay alive.  I'm concerned with who else occupies such a space.  We need each other.  We need the best version of each other to show up in dark, hidden places.

I've been sitting staring at this screen for days trying to determine what ribbon to use to tie a bow on it.  I could make a hard right turn into what Jon Acuff calls a "Jesus Juke", or talk about evangelism and sharing the Good News of the Gospel.  Both are valid for a blog of this genre.

Instead I leave you with this:  Love people deeply. Don't be afraid of their wounds or their dark spaces.  Be more afraid of the empty place they might create with an early exit.  The sticker shock is overwhelming.

I Can't Get No Satisfaction - Part Two

If you missed the Intro, you can read it here.

Keeping Bathsheba Out of Your Bed Part 1

Several years ago, a friend and I took a trip to Dallas for a church conference.  We never quite figured out the "Texas Way" of marking (or not marking) highway exits, ate too much Mexican food (if too much is even possible), took in a Stars vs. RedWings game, worshiped at the Potter's House and had a great time.  The conference itself was just ok, but had memorable moments about it.  My favorite was the session when Bill Hybels spoke.  Faithful readers will recognize the name from last week's Five for Friday the Podcast Version.  I listen weekly and the experience of hearing him in Dallas is why.  

At the end of his session, the conference host joined him on stage for an impromptu Q&A.  One question in particular stood out:  If you could describe your life in a song, what song would you be and why?  Hybels looked down taken a bit off-guard but eventually looked up at the crowd and said, "I Can't Get No Satisfaction?"  The place erupted in laughter, and Hybels was quick to explain that he never has a sense that he's done enough or that the global church has exhausted their resources for the sake of the Gospel.  When others are ok with their efforts to tell the world about Jesus, Hybels stated he is never satisfied. "Can't we do more? When a kid in Africa dies from a disease that would have been prevented by a fifty cent mosquito net, can't we do better?"  The unreached world is ever before him and it keeps him discontent.  

In his answer, Hybels identified one of the moorings that guard against spiritual drift.  While many believers and Christian leaders tend to be content to insulate their lives from the unbelieving outside world, those who refuse to drift from the calling to win the lost seem to rarely lose their moral compass.  Too much is at stake when you are constantly aware of a watching, unbelieving world.  Believers in Jesus have been entrusted with the Kingdom of God - not to merely manage it, but to expand it.  And this is where it would seem David lost his footing in our story of him and Bathsheba.  

2 Samuel 11

At a time when kings went off to war, David stayed home.  I've always heard it taught that he wasn't where he ought to be, or this sin with Bathsheba wouldn't have happened; but truthfully, if his heart had been where it ought to be, he would have been where he ought to be.  These were the glory days of Israel.  The Kingdom was in great shape.  The Spirit of God "rushed" on David and made everything he did successful.  He had God's favor, God's calling and God's Kingdom forces with him... and he stayed home.  Had he grown content with the "enough" he already attained for the Kingdom?  Was he content to just tell the troops on the ground what to do without being involved himself?  It seems he'd lost his sense of mission - a warring man who didn't go to war, a king who had all the kingdom he could handle. 

Who can fault him really when we often do the same?  Christianity is so comfy in our hemisphere that we call graffiti persecution.  We tend to insulate ourselves from the unbelieving world rather than find strategic places in it to be kingdom people.  Or we get so busy managing a church building that we forget to be light in dark places, hope in hopeless places, healers in broken places.  We really are ALL of those things... but we drift.  We forget we have God's favor, God's calling and God's Kingdom forces with us.  

I'm not sure the exact preventative measure to keep us from drifting, but a couple of things come to mind.  Stay close to the Father's heart - the lost are prominently positioned there.  His Son's primary mission was to seek and save those who were lost, and He did so at great expense.  Secondly, simply pray to be what my old-school-roots would call "soul conscious" - aware of the eternal state of those you encounter.   You don't need a sermon.  Just be ready to tell your story.  God loves answering the prayer asking for an opportunity to share Him with others.  Test Him on this, and be ready.  Go to war and build the kingdom in your corner of the world.  

You can read the final installment of this series here.  

Keeping Bathsheba Out of Your Bed - Part One

Daddy, Daughter & A Beautiful Day

Intro

Over the July 4th weekend this year, I was visited by my family.  We had the best time and spent a couple of afternoons at the beach.  It was perfect beach weather and having three adults to look after six kids under the age of ten was nearly ideal.  The waves weren't too overwhelming and the rip currents weren't too strong, but three sets of eyes stayed vigilant nonetheless.

On Sunday at Canaveral Seashore, the waves were at an odd angle.  Rather than coming straight onshore, the pulled to the north.  Not a problem necessarily, except that it caused you to drift north - away from the adults, a little farther from earshot, a little farther than a rescuing hand could get to quickly.  We were constantly calling the kids back closer to us for their own safety and for our peace of mind.

How easily we tend to drift in life and spirituality.  We get caught up in the waves crashing over us and before we know it we are soundly out of earshot of God - not beyond His care or reach, but beyond our own grasp.  I wondered if this was how David found himself in the self-created soap opera of his moral failure with Bathsheba.  (The story is found in 2 Samuel 11.)

I was in ministry for 20 years, and honestly don't think I believe that moral failure "just happens".  It's often has a drift from some very important foundational principles of leadership and faith in general; and let's face it - we're all susceptible to the drift that leads to moral failure.

In this series, we'll discuss two important questions to check ourselves - to measure the drift, and prayerfully to either get back to or to remain near the hand of the One who rescues us from our self-destructive ways.  For now precious reader, take a few minutes to read the passage and we'll dive into it in our next post.

Keeping Bathsheba Out of Your Bed Part 1
Keeping Bathsheba Out of Your Bed Part 2

Surviving Max Q

My Sweet Family Just Outside the Astronaut Hall of Fame

Living on the Space Coast of Florida for more than a decade, you come to appreciate the space program and space exploration more than most.  This community loves their astronauts and the adventure of sending someone or something to space.  It grips everyone's attention and well it should.  It's not unusual back in the day of the space shuttle missions, to find that the world would seemingly take a back seat to launches.  Cars pull over to the side of the highway, people come out of their offices to stand in the parking lot, die hard fans would camp out along the waterways and highways - all for a glimpse of the flame of the afterburners streaking through the sky propelling man and machine into orbit.  It is awe-inspiring!

While thousands of people look on in wonder and cheer for their sons and daughters of exploration, the spacecraft itself is enduring nearly impossible conditions.  In every launch, there is a moment when the conditions are the most critical - a point known as Max Q.  Max Q is a point in the launch when the vehicle endures the maximum mechanical stress.  Max Q will make or break a launch, and how it is navigated is all the difference between a landing site and a debris field.

This term came to mind today as I talked myself down from an anxious moment contemplating my future - what it will be, where it will be and when it will begin.  With hands still shaking and taking in long breathes, I couldn't help but think, "This is my Max Q.  Things are about to either take off or fall completely apart." (At that heart-racing moment, I was having a hard time coming up with any option in between.)

I think a lot of people go through times like that when they feel like they're enduring as much as they can endure and life is about to get infinitely better or shatter into a million pieces.  In the midst of the uncertainty though, I think the reality of Max Q gives us three things to help us navigate major changes in our life, so here they are.

Max Q is determined by two factors, velocity (speed and direction) and air pressure.  So what is your velocity in this moment of change or launch?  Are you moving too fast?  Do you need to put on the brakes somewhere in this decision-making process?  Throttle back and consider some godly counsel?  I have had to!  I was racing toward a mountain of debt that would have been paralyzing in my future.  I had to pull back and reconsider how quickly I was moving in that direction.

Velocity, however, is not just speed - it's direction as well.  A change in direction, decreases velocity.  So in Max Q, are you headed where you really need to go?  "Direction not intention determines destination."  Will the path your feet are on take you where you need to be?  I'm having to course-correct in a couple of areas of my life.  In some areas, I was way off course.  In some, I just needed just a tweak, a matter of mere degrees to optimize for the long road ahead.

The other component of Max Q is air density.  What is the atmosphere like in the midst of this stress point?  This part of the equation is the easiest to correct.  What control do we have over the conditions of the actual atmosphere?  None.  What control do we have over the condition of the spiritual atmosphere?  A lot.  In my Max Q, I needed to create an atmosphere of Word and Worship to center my mind on the goodness and faithfulness of God.  An atmosphere of divine expectation instead of dread can be created with what we choose as our meditation, and an atmosphere of worship will also be peace and grace to our hearts.

Finally, be encouraged by that term maximum mechanical stress.  In Psalm 139 the psalmist was encouraged to know that God knew His "frame". God knows how you're built, what kind of payload you can carry and what your maximum mechanical stress is.  You have been designed according to His specs and the circumstances of your launch or breakthrough are not a surprise to Him.  He created you for this.

I don't know if you find yourself at Max Q along with me.  If not now, maybe you've been there or will be someday.  Watch your speed, adjust your direction and create the right atmosphere and you can endure the maximum mechanical stress.  You will more than survive Max Q.  You will go where you're meant to go, do what God designed you to do.  And there's a whole community of people lumbering out of their offices, pulling over on the highway, watching and cheering you on.  I'm there with them.  You're going to make it, and it will be awe-inspiring!

TBT #2 - The Litmus Test of Stewardship (or Confessions of a Packrat)

Attending the Springs this weekend and hearing the teaching on Being Rich and recognizing how rich I really am as an American (even an unemployed American), I was reminded of this post from 4 years ago. We have so much.  Honestly, I've lost or squandered more than some people will ever have.  I am blessed and yes, I am rich!

-  -  -  -  -  -  -

The Litmust Test of Stewardship

(or Confessions of a Packrat)

I have in my car this little placard that sits on my dashboard.  It's backward, so if you look at it or try to read it, it makes no sense. However, if you're seated in the car looking out the windshield, its reflection reads perfectly.  It has a verse on it to help me meditate on the goodness of God.  The verse right now is 1Timothy 6:17 -

"Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment."

Being an average American (maybe being an American at all) qualifies you and I as being rich.  Let's face it, unless you earn less than $62/month, you are wealthier than 51% of the world.  If you earn $63/month or more, you're doing very well.  :)  But wealth is not only a subjective concept, it's also uncertain.  Whoever said "easy come, easy go" was only half right.  Here today and gone tomorrow unless you plan well, so wherever you are on the wealth continuum, you'd better have your hope and trust in the Lord Who is our ultimate Source.  He provides, not just the money, but the job, the ability, the time, the talent required to perform your duty for profit.  As the Psalm says, "all my fountains are in You."  Every source for every thing (physical, spiritual, emotional, etc.) is found in Christ alone, for in Him we live and move and have our being, for from Him and through Him and to Him are all things.  God provides everything, and His purpose for doing so is also the litmus test of our stewardship. 

Staring back at me from my windshield on that crazy placard are the words "He richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment."

Enjoyment?  I had to ask myself, "Self, do you enjoy everything you have?  Is it bringing you joy and pleasure?"  If God gave me all things to enjoy, am I enjoying all things I have?  and if not, why?"  The answers were troubling.  Every time I could think of something in my life that I did not enjoy, it came down to the fact that I hadn't managed it well, it was in disrepair or was neglected.  Every unenjoyable part of my life (past and present) was an area where I had struggled with the principle of stewardship. 

There have been periods of my life when I didn't enjoy tithing.  Why?  Because I was managing money so poorly I was anxious all the time.  There have been jobs I did not enjoy.  Why?  Because I lost sight of the fact that God had me there for a reason and I was ultimately working for Him.  I've had relationships I didn't enjoy because I had either neglected them or neglected the necessary maintenance of forgiveness and honesty.  I've had cars I didn't enjoy and places to live I hated either because they were so broken down and neglected that no one could enjoy them or because I just failed to remember that God gave them to me.  I was ungrateful!

And it's not just the neglected things.  It was also the things I had too much of that I couldn't enjoy.  I have an entire closet in my house of storage that I haven't unpacked in 2 years.  Am I enjoying all those possessions?  No, because I have too much stuff.  It's just as egregiously poor stewardship as not tithing.  I've tied up God's money in things that have no value or use to me.  I couldn't possibly enjoy everything I have, because I have too much!  Wouldn't it be better stewardship to give those things to someone who would actually use them and enjoy them?  I have some serious de-cluttering of my life to do!  I have more than I could possibly enjoy. 

Look around at the richness of your life and ask the following questions: 

• Am I enjoying everything God gave me as He intended me to?
• Has poor stewardship robbed me of the enjoyment He intended for me?  
• Has an ungrateful heart kept me from enjoying what He's given me?
• Do I have more stuff than I could possibly enjoy and therefore need to simplify my possessions?   

Not all fun questions, but the more often I ask these questions of myself, the more likely I am to realize how rich I am, to be grateful, to look up at the needs of others rather than me, and to live a simplified life that finds sufficiency in Him rather than in pursuing more stuff.  

If You've Seen Me, You've Seen My Father

Last night at dinner I was telling stories on my parents when out of my mouth came the voice of my Dad - his words, his tone, his attitude.  It stunned me for a moment, and with  my hand over my mouth I looked at my friend and confessed, "I am so much like my Dad, I'm buying myself a Father's Day card this year."

I'm not sure I want make an official confession of all the ways we are alike, but here's a short list.  He's a poet, a writer, a wordsmith, a thinker, loves to unfold truth in the Bible, a book collector, a collector of interesting things.  He's funny, he's snide, the life of the party if you can get him to go to one, but he's happy to be at home most of the time.  If I am any of those things, I promise you I am a lesser, unrefined version by comparison.  There's much of that list I have yet to perfect to the degree my Dad has, but he's got 30 years more practice than I do.

If you're still not sure you know my Dad, I can only say, "if you've seen me, you've seen my father."  If you know me at all, you have a pretty good idea what he's like.  Pull all of me in the body of a handsome older man, and you have my dad.  As much as it takes me off guard sometimes, I'm pretty happy about that.

Happy Father's Day, Dad!

A Sign, A Promise and An Aunt Tavis - Oh Ge Yishe!

My maternal grandmother and her twin had a baby sister named Tavis.  Today she would have been 91 years old, and I miss her all the time.  She is the one who inspires me to be a well-loved aunt and truth by told,  much of how I interact with my 12 nieces and nephews is based on how she made me feel as her great niece.  She was always so kind, so genuinely interested in how you were doing, engaged with every person in the room regardless of their age or significance, the most likely to throw her head back in shear delight of the presence of little people, the most enthusiastic hello coming through the door.  I miss the sound of her nasally "oh Ge yishe" - her unique and delightful way of saying "gosh".  My cousin Jenny does a spot-on impersonation of her, but it's just not the same.

I'm not nearly as classy as she was, but I like to think we have other things in common.  Some are obvious.  We are both the baby girl of the family.  We neither have had our own kids though we both love them dearly.  I've been single my whole life, and Aunt Tavis spent the last decades of her life single as well after Uncle Jack passed away.  She always made it look easy though I'm sure it wasn't.  She always had nice things, a job, good friends, fierce loyalty to her family; and though I think she struggled at times, she had a air about her that her life was enough.  She was sufficient.  (This list may or may not have digressed into ways we were dissimilar.)

I often look to her and wonder how she made it all those years by herself.  When I'm stressed and wondering what to do, I wonder what she'd do.  Those are usually times when I'm struggling or feel like less than enough, and sometimes God graciously sends me a sign that everything will be ok.

One of Aunt Tavis's favorite things was cardinals.  You would find them everywhere around her house and if you wanted to send the perfect gift or card, you needed only look as far as the one with a red bird on it.  So when I see a cardinal, I think of her and when it's a particularly stressful time, I consider it a sign, a message from her that I'll be alright.

A couple of weeks after I left my job, I had one of these experiences where I was sure she was sending me a message.  It was a day when I was wrestling with what the future would look like and what I ought to do.  Outside my living room window, flew the most beautiful cardinal.

"Oh it's a sign!  Everything will be ok."  I thought with relief.  Just then the cardinal took a dive straight into the window, and proceeded to do so several more times.

Definitely, definitely not the sign I was looking for!  Though less than comforting, it was amusing.

And then I thought, why do I need a sign?  I have a leather-bound letter from my Father full of expressions of His heart for me.  It doesn't say that everything will be ok, but it does say that as my Dad He's not going to give me a stone when I need and ask for bread, nor will He serve snake when I'm hoping for fish.  He knows how to give good gifts to His children.  And more importantly, He's promised to be with us... the greatest gift of all, His presence.

In rare and beautiful moments, He gives you an Aunt Tavis as proof that you are enough, that you can survive and thrive, and life can be full even alone.  Most often He gives us a promise. Sometimes He gives you a sign... or just a stupid kamakaze bird to make you laugh.

Happy birthday, Aunt Tavis!