The coffee maker’s alarm awakened Simon, who stretched and rolled out of bed. In the kitchen, he grabbed his coffee mug with one hand and the pot’s handle with the other. He reflexively listened to the rising pitch of the pouring liquid as it filled his cup. He walked to his favorite chair, settled into the embracing cushions, breathed in the steamy aroma, and enjoyed his first, hot sip of the day.
He picked up his daily devotional and read through the familiar verses looking for fresh insights. He reflected quietly for a few moments, thinking about how this could affect him and his friends, then picked up his phone.
Simon posted the day’s comfort verse and an accompanying thought before looking back at his last message. Two thumbs up, one heart, and no comments. He wondered if anyone had even paid attention, or if they had just clicked and scrolled.
The chirp of an incoming message shook him from his thoughts, and he opened his email. It was from his serving team leader, reminding him that he had signed up to serve this weekend.
Simon loved to serve with his team. He believed in their ministry and enjoyed the time spent with the friends he had made there. His leader did a great job, and he looked forward to joining them.
At the same time, he wondered about the impact he was having there. He never heard much feedback from the people they served. Were his efforts affecting a long-term change? Were lives being changed through his sacrifice?
Simon set his phone down and sighed. For all of his efforts, what impact was he having?
“It’s tough, isn’t it?”
Startled, Simon looked up to see Jesus sitting in the chair next to him. Not knowing how to respond, he nodded his head. Jesus continued.
“I left paradise to become a carpenter in a dusty, small village. Then I left the meager comforts of that life to wander from place to place, teaching whatever God asked me to share. I was effectively homeless.
“I performed miracles greater than any ever seen before crowds that grew increasingly larger. Instead of understanding who I was, many were coming to see a show. Some just wanted a free sandwich. I had to send away some of the very people I wanted to reach.
“I poured wisdom, truth, and life into the twelve disciples who traveled with me while they argued about seat assignments. Often as I was making a key point, they weren’t fully focused. There were times when I wanted to say ‘You guys think you ought to be writing some of this down?’
“Still, I loved every one of them, including those of you who weren’t even born yet.
“When the time came for me to pay for your sins, I pleaded with the Father to find another way. The physical pain would exceed comprehension, but worse, it would mean being separated from my Father for the first time in all of time. I didn’t want to do it and asked for any way out.
“But when there was no other way, I chose all of you. I endured the worst so that you could have the best.
“That selfless act of perfect love was the key that unlocked the meaning of every miracle and every spoken truth. As that love was recognized, gospels were written, churches were built, and lives were transformed. My earlier actions had laid the foundation, but their full impact wasn’t realized until the magnitude of my love was revealed.
“Which brings me back to you. The same key will unlock the impact you are hoping for.
“Simon, do you love them?”
Simon answered quickly. “Jesus, you know that I do.”
Jesus paused for a long moment and said “Do you visit them when they are sick or buy them presents for their birthdays? Do you send them simple notes explaining why they are special to you? Have you made a major sacrifice or taken their punishment hoping only for their happiness? Do you ache to know them better?
“Simon, do you love them?”
Simon sat silently, staring at the floor. He was ashamed.
Jesus spoke again. “Look at me. I love you and am proud of you. Receive my love and share it.
“Simon, do you love them?”
Simon closed his eyes to process the question and when he opened them the next chair was empty again. His thoughts drifted to the individuals he had shared verses with and to the people he had served. He wanted the best for each of them, but had he loved them?
It was so many people. How could any answer address all those individuals, each with their own stories? Was there some approach he should be using? Each person was so unique that he couldn’t think of any common way to connect with them all.
His phone shook him from his thoughts as it announced another incoming notification. It was a new thumbs-up on his post from a few minutes ago. He looked closely at the man’s name who had responded. He thought carefully about that one person. Did he love him?
Before putting his phone down, Simon replied back, inviting his social-media friend over for dinner. He would find the answer to Jesus’ question.
One person at a time.
Frequently, I reflect on those simple words. Love your neighbor as yourself. Sometimes I do well, and other times I don’t. Occasionally, I wrestle to understand what it means to love them. May God continue to reveal to me his perfect love, so that it can flow through me into the lives of others. And with you. – Jimmy
Do you harbor an ambition that you protect from the scrutiny of the outside world, afraid that others wouldn’t understand or worse, may laugh if they knew? Are you afraid that if you did speak it out loud that it may seem ridiculous even to you?
I have a dream like that.
In my mind, I can see it clearly and it all seems very reasonable. But dreams are like a candle in the wind, so I have protected my flame from careless extinction, entrusting God with this hidden desire of my heart.
Two years ago, someone called me to discuss an opportunity that could have made my dream become real. Over the course of a few weeks, we had several conversations. My heart and mind raced as I imagined my fantasy becoming reality. What I desired was finally within my grasp.
I prayed about it, asking God for his blessing, pleading that he would grant my wish. When no clear approval came, I felt like he was answering me with a question: What do you really want?
It seemed like a strange thing to ask. I knew what I wanted. I had a future mapped out that gave me exactly what I wanted. Why ask me something so obvious?
Then it started to sink in. God had set me aside to lead community ministry. For years, I had been anointed by him to do more than just lead work days for the First Fruits team. I was a local missionary. God had promised to be with me as I pursued his calling on my life.
But what if I could have both? What if I chased my dream and still did what God had called me to?
That is when the full weight of his question fell on me. I couldn’t pursue two different things at the same time. I knew they were in conflict with each other. I had to choose either the achievement of my dream or a journey with my Father.
I knew the answer. I called my friend and declined, stating that the timing was wrong. In a moment of surrender, it seemed like my candle had blown out.
I didn’t talk much about it to anyone. How could I? Virtually no one would have understood what it meant to me. I was afraid that my pain would be met with mere platitudes. Mourning is made worse by overused clichés that don’t acknowledge what you are going through.
I dealt with my grief by pouring myself into my work. I was in the middle of writing a book that would take all of my faith and courage to publish. I was leading a team that needed me. I was bringing hope to families who were crying out for it. It was all very time-consuming and took my mind away from my loss.
All of these tasks required me to surrender totally to God. I had never written anything and had no other guide than Him to follow. The team I led had nowhere to serve if He didn’t send someone. The only hope I could offer to a neighbor in pain was the same love I was receiving from Him.
It has been almost two years since I made my choice. I have enjoyed every step of the journey that I chose and have been rewarded beyond my imagination.
My book, Build Neighbors, resonated with my sister, Kelly. We had drifted out of touch so many years earlier that neither of us knew how to bridge the chasm between us. Through God’s grace, I got my big sister back. In a season where the pain of losing my mother to dementia can be overwhelming, I am comforted by the same light shining brilliantly in her eyes that is becoming dim in my mom’s. She is awesome and I love her.
When God sent us into fewer work days, my friends Pam and Steve took on leadership roles within our church’s local missions. Through them, the spirit of First Fruits is replicating in a way I could never have imagined. Our connection is stronger than ever as we share an understanding of the total surrender required to lead. They are my friends and I love them.
In a time of transition and uncertain future, Kim and I began to search for answers together. While I wrote, she edited. As I struggled with loss, she comforted. We are stronger together. More than my wife, she is my other half, and I love her.
I found my voice not in front of the audiences I had imagined but in front of a keyboard. The comfort I found writing led to the blog, Making Waves, that allows me to process through my feelings and share the light and hope of Jesus.
There are so many other examples that I cannot list them all. I am blessed beyond measure.
So my secret dream will have to wait a little longer. I will still hold onto it and protect that flame, but I know where hope lives.
Jesus was all I ever really wanted. He just helped me to see that more clearly.
A storm is coming into my life. I can feel it. Just like you can smell the rain that is about to fall, I can sense the change that is about to happen.
When I was a sophomore in college, I lived in North Carrick dormitory. My fifth-floor room faced due west and had an unimpeded view of the campus, the downtown and the horizon of the sky behind them. When a weather front blew in, you could see the storm coming.
Anxiety would immediately begin to set in. I had a 15-minute walk to class and no umbrella. How would I keep from becoming soaking wet? I was pretty sure my canvas backpack wasn’t waterproof either. Would my class notes be safe? How could I protect them?
As I gazed out the window at the gathering clouds and darkening sky, the beauty of the storm would seize control of my thoughts. I would watch the brilliance of the landmark Sunsphere contrast with the fury forming around it.
My habit became cranking up my roommate’s oversized 1980s stereo system and listening to “Riders on the Storm” by The Doors. The hypnotic sounds of rainfall and thunder would mix with the dancing keyboard notes before Jim Morrison hauntingly sang the last song he ever recorded.
While I sat there and enjoyed the beauty of the music and the coming storm, my anxieties faded away. I didn’t care that I would arrive at my next class dripping wet. My plans for the night would inevitably change, but it was OK. As the first drops of rain began to fall, a spirit of peace settled over the moment.
If you have never tried, take a couple minutes to click on the picture and listen to the song with your eyes closed and imagine the storm rolling in (the lyrics are just plain weird, but ignore that part). If you let your soul be calm, you can feel it, too.
My first reaction to approaching storms is to bring everything inside for protection from the strong Texas winds. I am tempted to run around making sure that after the storm everything will be the same as it was before.
But that isn’t the nature of a storm. When a season in life ends, a storm precedes the next season. As a new front brings change, it clashes violently with everything it is pushing away. It is pointless to guard against all damage. The storm only represents the larger change that comes behind it.
Christ followers should have hope that better things will come. A magnificent change requires a very great storm. We should embrace the storm, not merely seek shelter from it. We are not victims of the chaos. We should ride on the wave of change.
Like I said earlier, a storm is coming into my life. The undeniable signs are all in place. With no idea what lies ahead, it can be scary. But instead of worrying about the damage, I am trying to prepare for what is being ushered in.
In a city marked by violent hailstorms, I am not looking for shelter for the oversized truck that won’t fit into my garage. Instead, I sold it on Saturday. I don’t believe it has a place in the season that is coming.
I have released the ministry events that God faithfully sent to me every month over the past years. As they are blown away, something new will arrive. While I wait, I am sharing these messages of hope with everyone who finds them.
I am rediscovering the same peace that settled over my soul so many years ago as I listened to music and watched the storm clouds gather. My soul has a tranquility that only God can bring.
As winds howl and lightning streaks across the sky, may I not hide from what comes. May God make me fearless. May he strengthen my faith as the old season is pushed out and days of glory stretch in front of me.
