I Don’t Pray for Patience
I don’t pray for patience, because I’m afraid I’ll get it.
I’m OK being impatient.
You know I’m kidding.
(Or am I?)
I’ve been up since 3:30 a.m.
My flight was supposed to leave at 5 a.m.
I travel 42 weeks/weekends a year, and I’m learning to discern what some of the pilot’s announcements actually mean.
“Delayed due to mechanical difficulties” really means we forgot to gas up.
“Delayed due to unforeseen problems,” means we can’t find the keys.
Pilot: Got the keys?
Co-Pilot: No. I don’t have the keys. I thought you had them.
Pilot: I don’t have the keys. Where are the keys?
And during the actual flight . . .
“We’re experiencing some unexpected turbulence,” really means the pilot’s son who’s traveling shotgum, got bored doing his homework and pulled a lever, turned a knob or pressed a button.
Pilot to son: “Don’t make me stop this plane. Cuz I’ll do it. I told you to concentrate on your homework!”
So I was supposed to depart at 5 a.m.
3:30 came way too early. I’m thinking on these early flights, maybe I should start calling the airline about an hour ahead of time and just check in with them:
ME: “Did someone gas up the plane? Got the keys? No children in the cockpit for this flight? Are the windshield wipers working OK? Gas pedal and brakes good? Toilet paper in the dollhouse bathroom?”
I finally leave the OKC airport at 8:45 a.m., and of course I’ve missed my connection from Chicago to Flint, MI. Now I’m enjoying a five-and-a-half layover in Chicago. That’s how long it takes to fly from OKC to London. As in England.
London, England!
I could be touring Madam Tussad’s wax museum right now!
Or the Doc Martin four-story headquarters.
Or taking pix with William and Kate and the babies.
Or being issued a restraining order from William and Kate and the babies.
Instead I’m eating an Auntie Ann’s pretzel and picking off the salt.
Almost as good being in London.
I finally arrive in Flint, Mich., at 8 p.m.
The service I was scheduled to speak at started at 7.
It’s over. I totally missed it.
They turned it into a prayer meeting instead.
And God moved.
Without me.
What a great reminder.
He so does NOT need me.
I’m extremely grateful He has chosen to use me.
But He doesn’t need me.
He could make the rocks cry out, or the podium speak His Word,
or have the carpet sing His praises.
Father, I’m frustrated.
Exhausted.
But thankful for the lesson You’ve taught me today.
It’s not about my schedule, is it?
It’s not about my speaking, is it?
IT. IS. ALWAYS. ABOUT. YOU.
All the time.
Every day.
In every way.
Yes, Lord.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on what God uses to get YOUR attention to remind you of this truth.
Never the Same
I’m in Quito, Ecuador.
For the past 17 years I’ve taken students (and adults to help me) on two-week international mission trips.
My friend Steve Goley, with Big World Ventures out of Tulsa, Okla., actually puts the details together for me (flights, ministries, hotel, translators, etc.) so I can simply concentrate on loving and ministering.
My main job is to speak each evening. When everyone comes back to the hotel, we have a hot meal and then an evening service we call FUAGNEM: Fired Up And Going Nuts Every Minute!
Each summer we see more than a thousand people give their lives to Christ through this ministry. We collect their information and give that to local pastors who want to disciple them and get them involved in their churches.
May I confess something?
I’m exhausted. Just finished speaking at a camp in VA
and barely had time to repack and do laundry before flying overnight to Quito. Part of me is longing to be home.
In my own bed.
With my two dogs, Obie and Amos.
But I’m here because it’s right.
For the past 17 years it’s been right.
It’s my chance to see God move in big ways.
And more than making an impact in another country . . .
the real reason I do a missions trip each year is for our students.
Most teens view their relationship with Christ as a feeling—
and it’s usually how they feel when their hands are in the air
and they’re swaying to praise and worship music.
This is Christianity, they think.
This is what it means to love God.
Sometimes I wish we’d just stop all the music and teach students there are other ways to worship.
Before you condemn me, please hear me out.
When we enter a relationship with God,
It’s something that’s so sacred
so huge
so holy
it transcends our understanding.
It’s BIG.
It can’t be contained in how I feel when my hands are in the air
And I feel the beat of drums swelling in my head.
In fact, it has nothing to do with this.
It’s beyond that!
It’s saying, “I won’t renounce” when the machete is at the throat of an Iraqi Christian.
It’s making time to read the Bible . . . daily . . .
no matter how tired we are or how much we have to do.
And it’s praying constantly.
It’s trusting God for what we can’t see.
It’s weeping before Him and yearning until our hearts feel raw from praying for genuine intimacy with Him.
It has nothing to do with my favorite chorus.
And on these trips . . . I see our students go beyond the music.
I watch them push deeper than the excitement of an overseas trip.
I see the light go on in their eyes as I speak to the group about living in radical obedience to the Lordship of Jesus Christ.
And I hear their confession. I see their growth.
And we have revival.
Revival. Not a word we hear much anymore.
Most teens have never heard the word.
And when they experience it, they don’t know how to label it.
They come to me with tears running down their cheeks saying,
“I’m a Christian, but I’ve never been challenged like this.”
“I don’t hear stuff like this in my church back home.”
“I’ve never been challenged like this before.”
And I wonder what IS being preached in many of our churches.
Or if many are simply places to feel good.
And I question if most teens who think they have a relationship with Christ really do have a genuine relationship with Him.
So I do this trip every year.
Because I love revival. And I love introducing teens to revival.
And I love hearing them testify. Many don’t even know what a testimony is. They learn quickly.
And when I watch a teen lead someone to Christ . . . it’s amazing how his confidence soars! Nothing is impossible, if one can lead someone to God! Sharing our faith is a definite confidence booster.
And by the end of the trip, to see how worship has completely changed from feel-good music to truly being in awe of our Creator God . . . to being speechless before Him . . . to grasping even a bit of His power . . .
Well, that’s why I’m here.
And missing my own bed is a very small price to pay.
Share with me your thoughts on how YOU experience genuine revival. And why do you think many churches no longer have revival?
Masterpiece
The paint is still wet on the canvas.
The colors glisten in the sun.
Texture and technique equal vibrancy extraordinaire.
The Artist has created brilliance.
But instead of putting down His brush, He waves it over His creation and breathes directly into the painting. The colors receive His breath and begin to move. Rhythm gives birth to shape. Silhouettes become personalities. Life explodes through the canvas.
It’s a masterpiece. What the Artist has captured is beyond your imagination. You don’t want to blink for fear of missing something.
As your focus intensifies . . . you’re able to see beyond the kaleidoscope of vivacity . . . and you’re stunned.
You’re looking at you.
The Artist has included you in His painting.
It’s hard to swallow.
Your heart is racing.
How is this possible?
It may be hard to believe . . .
but breathe a sigh of relief, because it’s true.
YOU are inside the greatest painting in the world.
In fact, even before the Artist picked up His brush,
you were on His mind.
He knew the color of your hair before He painted it.
He saw your laugh lines before sketching them.
He places so much value in who you are, that He never thought twice about placing you in His creation. In fact, if you look a little closer, you’ll see a resemblance between you and the Artist . . . for He fashioned everything in this masterpiece after His own image.
YOU are in the painting.
YOU are part of the masterpiece.
YOU have reason to rejoice.
As you study the work before you,
it begins to move . . . and you realize this is not a still painting.
It’s a moving piece of art.
Let’s not simply look at the painting or admire it from a distance.
Transformation never comes from simply viewing.
The Artist has extended His hand.
He has issued the invitation.
Will you join Him?
He invites you inside the masterpiece.
Go ahead.
Step inside.
Look around. Characters are moving swiftly now.
The Artist Himself is quickening. He’s engaged. He, too, is inside the painting. And He’s moving more rapidly than anything else on the canvas.
What’s He doing?
Look around.
Notice every detail.
This is all about you.
Soak it in.
The Artist is shifting everything in the painting to get to you.
From His vantage point, it’s you on center stage.
The painting revolves around you.
He’s literally moving heaven and earth to get to you.
He’s chasing you.
He wants you.
He’s calling you by name.
Allow yourself to be captured
and
captivated by Him.
It’s all about you.
If you were the only one in all the world to paint . . .
He’d still use the richest, most vibrant, all-expensive colors
on you.
It’s all about you.
You’re the one for whom He died.
You’re the one for whom He refused to stay in the tomb.
You’re the one for whom He has purchased the new canvas.
You’ll meet some fascinating personalities affected by the Artist.
You’ll become part of the story inside the stories the Artist has breathed onto the canvas.
Go ahead.
Accept His invitation inside the painting.
Discover your story by learning His.
Along the way, you’ll engage in 18 encounters that prove
it really is
all about
you.
(The above is the introduction to my new book Masterpiece: 18 Encounters With Jesus That Prove It’s All About You)