Makeovers

The Today Show chooses a somewhat ordinary-looking woman who is sent off to another room and, a little later on the same two-hour show, is brought back with a whole new look: hairdo, makeup, clothes, and accessories.

Time magazine features an article describing the television show Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. It tells the story of Alive Harris of South Central Los Angeles.  She still remembers the day the good people from ABC volunteered to demolish her house.  In 2003, a flood had left the uninsured community activist and her family living in just one bedroom of their destroyed home.  Worst of all, the waters had ruined a stash of Christmas toys Harris had collected for underprivileged children.  Harris said, “I figured no one was going to come to Watts and help us.  No one had ever done that.”  But Extreme Makeover: Home Edition found her.  Its bullhorn-wielding host, Ty Pennington, shipped Harris and her family off for a week’s vacation in Carlsbad, California, while over 100 workers and neighbors tore their home down to the foundation and built a brand new and bigger one.  They replaced the Christmas toys and donated appliances, mattresses, and landscaping to her flood-stricken neighbors.  They even threw in a basketball court for the neighborhood kids.  Now that’s an extreme makeover.

So what does all this have to do with New Years?  Simply this—all of these extreme makeovers have something in common: an outsider comes in with a one-two-three program.  First, the outsider sees the possibilities the recipient couldn’t see.  Second, the outsider does what the recipient couldn’t possibly do. Third, the outsider pays for what the recipient could never afford to pay.

As you face 2015, remember that there’s an amazing God who is in the makeover business.  He’s in the business of transforming your life and mine.  He has a similar three-step program.  

One: He sees possibilities in you and me that we’re not apt to see in ourselves. 
Two: He is able to do for you and me what we simply cannot do for ourselves.  
Three: He’s able to pay the price for what He does.  We can’t afford the price so He paid it for us.  

However, God’s makeover is slightly different in one area.  The reality show makeover is an external job; God’s is an internal job.  He makes you and me a new person from the inside out.

As you face a new year, please, let Him do His work.  He’s really, really good at it.

Bill Crofton

Looking for Thomas Kinkade

I've always enjoyed the paintings of Thomas Kinkade.  Also called the Painter of Light, Kinkade is known for glowing warm light and idyllic picturesque settings.  Many of his paintings evoke in me a sense of cozy warmth and love, with family members gathered around a warm fire while the snow falls outside.  It’s an ideal Christmas setting, and one for which I find myself wishing at times.  

And yet, every year at Christmas, the reality is quite different.  Schedules are hectic, stores are crowded, and money is tight.  Family get-togethers are often busy and over too soon.  Even the music that I love so much can start to get old.

But before you label me a Scrooge, please understand that Christmas is actually my favorite time of the year.  I love the picturesque images from Thomas Kinkade and Norman Rockwell not because they are real, but because they are a glimpse of the ideal.  At Christmastime you can see acts of kindness towards strangers, gifts of love to family, and simple joy and wonderment in the eyes of a child.  You may have to look past the selfishness and greed that are also prevalent at this time of year, but it is there. 

Glimpses of divinity in the midst of human brokenness; a fitting description of what happened on the first Christmas 2000 years ago.

Chad Hess

Seeing People As God Sees Them

A few months back I was headed home and got a text from my wife, Jane, to stop and pick up some milk.  A convenience store was close by, so I pulled in.  To be honest, I don’t know if I would have noticed the guy behind the counter, but the Christian university where I serve as chaplain had recently done a service on the theme of “Seeing People as Jesus Sees Them.”  My first thought was to feel bad for anyone who had to work the night shift in a convenience store, stuck behind a counter by yourself all night with nothing to look at but lottery tickets, chewing tobacco, and beef jerky.  

He looked to be in his thirties, and that those years had been a little rough on him.  For some reason, his scanner wasn’t reading the barcode of the milk, and he was having a hard time ringing up the sale.  I asked if he wanted me to get another, but he rather harshly said “No!” even though he was getting more and more frustrated.  I tried to engage him in a bit of conversation just to “lighten” the mood, but he was not responding.  When the sale finally went through, I smiled and said, “Thanks!” but he never even looked at me.

As I drove home in the dark, I couldn’t get him out of my mind.  I know that man is loved and valued by God, but does he know that?  I know there’s a community of believers right down the street at 2800 North Orange Avenue that would warmly welcome and love him, but does he know that?  I know that God has important work for him to do, that he was put on this earth for a reason, that he could glorify God in a way no other human being can, but does he know that?  I don’t think so.

But what am I supposed to do? Reach over the counter, grab him by the collar, make him look me in the eye, and tell him that God loves him and has a wonderful plan for his life?  Would he hear me?  Would he believe me?  Personally, I think doing something like that would be as scary for him as it would be for me!

So what do I do?  How do I love?  I’m discovering that “seeing” what Jesus sees and “feeling” what Jesus feels can really mess up your drive home at night! And that was just one person.  What about the sarcastic co-worker?  The rebellious teenager?  The elderly neighbor?  The millions who go to bed hungry every night?  What about the orphans and widows, and sick, and in prison?  What can one person do?  What can one community do?  It’s easy to get a little overwhelmed by people’s needs—to be paralyzed by the magnitude of the world’s problems, right?  Ever felt like that before?  Seems to happen to me more and more.

Bill Crofton

Did I Just Butt Dial God?

We’ve all done it.  We have no intention of actually making the call, but somehow we lean against something with our phone in our pocket, and someone in our contacts list receives our unintentional call.  Sometimes we realize it while the call is still going on, but most of the time you don’t know you did it until the person you called calls you back. 

“Hey!  Did you know your butt just called me?”

“You’re kidding me!”

“Nope.  Sounded like you were checking out at Publix.”

“Weird.”

“I tried calling your name to get your attention, but I guess you didn’t hear me.  So I just hung up and called you back.”

You feel pretty silly afterward.  And you wonder what you might have said that the person on the other end of the phone may have heard.  Most likely, the voices were pretty muffled, but if it was a private conversation, it may be a bit unnerving.

I’m reading Richard Foster’s book, Celebration of Discipline, because our church is doing a series on the 12 spiritual disciplines outlined in Foster’s book.  The chapter on Prayer seems a bit too formulaic.  I strongly believe in prayer and am committed to it as a practice necessary for Christians.  However, I have no idea how it works.  One thing I’m certain of, however, is that it doesn’t work or not work dependent on the “formula” you use.

If I’m being totally honest, I’ll tell you that most of my prayers do not get answered in the way I would most like.  I believe God’s answers to prayer are “Yes,” “Not Now,” and “Not in That Way.”  So, it’s not that I don’t believe God is listening and answering my prayers.  I just think, for the most part, He and I disagree on how they should be answered.

In his chapter on prayer, Foster talks about using imagination.  He suggests praying in a way that visualizes the answer actually happening.  For example, let’s say you know of a child who is ill.  Your prayer imagines the child’s body being healed and them rising from bed to run and play.  This was another example of the type of praying I find disingenuous – more manipulation and less “thy will be done.”  However, in an effort to fully immerse myself in the process, I decided to give it a try.

I had a friend in a personal crisis for which I had been praying.  As I closed Foster’s book and picked up my computer to check my email, I half-heartedly imagined what a solution to my friend’s problem would look like.  Without any intention of it actually being a prayer, I played it through in my mind – step by step – imagining how each person in the situation would make changes to bring about healing and restoration to my friend’s world.  Okay, I gave it a shot.  On with my day.

I have always viewed cynically the prayer stories of miraculous answers, so I wasn’t prepared for the message I received the next day from my friend.  In one of the longest texts I’ve ever received, she explained how her situation had been changed in what could only be understood as a God-provided miracle.  The details she provided were an exact reenactment of my imagination prayer from the previous day.

I was overjoyed and speechless.  What an amazing coincidence!!

My pastor chuckled when I told him the story, gently trying to help me accept this miraculous “coincidence” as an answer to my prayer.  But . . . my prayers don’t get answered like that.  Besides, it wasn’t really an “official” prayer – it was unintentional.  I never meant to “call” God.  There was no “Dear God” in the beginning or “In Christ’s name, Amen” at the end.  It was really more of a “butt dial.”

I’m still grappling with this.  I don’t understand prayer, and I’m not sure if I ever will.  But I know I need it, and God knows I need it.  Maybe I'm not meant to understand it all.  Maybe all I really need to know is, even when I’m oblivious that I make the call, God’s still calling my name and trying to get my attention.

Tami Cinquemani

Ruts—Risk or Reward?

I’ve been on some really muddy roads in some very deep ruts.  In those slippery, muddy situations the ruts can be helpful. When your wheels are tracking in the rut, they protect you from slipping into a ditch—just follow the rut, and eventually you are led to a more drivable section of road.

However, by and large, I’m not a big rut fan.  It seems all of us can fall prey to life ruts.  Some might call them routines, and there is a similarity, but I imagine routines easier to break than escaping from deep ruts.  Life ruts aren’t normally something we chose but something that just happened while we were living life.

It might be the rut of a nice family tradition. That special place the family rendezvous annually. Could be a holiday rut. Or maybe one Sunday morning years ago one of the men in the family was up early and decided to make pancakes for the family.  It was a hit, so a few weeks later it happened again, and then again.  Before anyone realized it, there was this pancakes-fixed-by-one-of-the-guys-on-Sunday rut.  And over time when someone in the family wants something else for Sunday breakfast, or to go out, there is resistance because we find comfort in the rut. After all, it is “our” rut.

Whether we call them ruts or habits, routines or traditions, we’ve all got them.  Even the most avant-garde family member has them, even if they are simply the arguments against having them!

I’m not suggesting we shouldn’t have them, but I am suggesting that we could be healthier, freer, and more engaged with people in our communities if we would intentionally consider our ruts.  Since so many of them just happen while we are doing life, it is probable that some are really worth continuing, even fostering, while we would do well to jump from the deep track of many of our not-so-helpful ruts.

So I suggest that maybe you make list of your routines, habits, traditions, or ruts.  Then, as you have them in front of you, ask yourself these seven questions:

1.     If this wasn’t a rut, would I choose to spend my life this way?

2.     How does this rut make my life more difficult?

3.     And conversely, how does this rut make my life easier, better, richer?

4.     Would I have trouble defending this rut to a close friend or total stranger?

5.     Is this rut so important and valuable that I would invite others to join my rut?

6.     What might be a better option than this rut?

7.     Thinking wisely with good counsel in line with scripture, do I now consciously choose this “rut”—habit, routine, or tradition—as a valuable rut for me?

Since so many of our ruts “just happened” from living life, we have the freedom, the power, and maybe even the responsibility to think about life’s ruts.

A verse comes to mind with which I’ve taken a little liberty in the translation:

“There is rut that seems like the right rut but in the end it leads to death.” Proverbs 14:12

Just seems like a word of advice to all of us whose ruts may have become just a bit too comfortable.

Andy McDonald

Greater Than What Divides

This week I hosted a get together for a bunch of church AV techs in the area.  We are all part of a big Facebook group for church sound and media techs around the world, but we get together occasionally at a local church to have fun and get to know each other.  We have people from mega-churches and from small churches, volunteers and paid professionals.  Our backgrounds are different, our churches are different, and our opinions are different, but I've discovered that our similarities are far greater than our differences.

As we get to know one another, we discover that the issues we face are all the same.  We all have failing equipment and diminishing budgets.  We all have grand visions and less-than-grand resources.  We all have a heart that strives to give excellence to our God who is worthy of the best. 

When we really get to know each other, we often discover that we are more alike than we are different.  That doesn't mean the differences don't matter, but it does mean that our differences don't have to divide us.  When we choose to build on our similarities and see issues from a different perspective, we can discover new ideas and new relationships.

I have gained support and encouragement from others who understand the struggle.  I have learned from others’ mistakes and have shared my own.  I have learned more about my faith by talking with others who believe differently.

There is much to be gained from others if we will take the time to get to know them.  There is a real beauty in our diversity.  God never intended for His church to be all hands or all arms; we are a diverse body of different parts that all work together for a common goal.

Chad Hess