Nothing But The Blood

As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, 2 in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. 3 All of us also lived among them at one time,gratifying the cravings of our flesh and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. 4 But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, 5 made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. 6 And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, 7 in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace,expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. 8 For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— 9 not by works, so that no one can boast. 10 For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Ephesians 2:1-10

Wow, it has been a while since I have written anything let alone in this devotional blog. Three years to be exact. I have been exceedingly busy these last three years. I left a job in retail to pursue a Job in health care. I them left health care to start my own landscaping company. It has been a busy three years. I am glad to be able to step back and write a little bit.

I tend to think I know something about grace. I have taken the time to read about grace and study it and try to make sense of it. The problem is that while we can have a rational knowledge and understand of grace we are often caught off guard by actual grace. I sure know that I am.

I was 11 years old when I decided to follow Jesus Christ at camp. Though I had grown up in church and was a pastor's kid I didn't really, truly know what salvation was. Maybe the grown ups didn't think I could fully understand it or what forgiveness really is like when eternity is on the line. They were probably right, but in just a few days I would be in more need of grace and forgiveness than anyone could have ever imagined.

The day I came home from camp I was pretty happy even though on my way home I had told my mom that I gave my heart to Jesus and all she said was “that's nice”. I'm not sure what I expected her to say, but I thought it was a bigger deal than a “that's nice”.

At home I did a few things in the house and then headed out to play with the neighbor boy who was a few years older than me. Little did I know that evil would assault my heart that day for the very first time in a devastating, life altering way.

Our neighbor's lived on land that used to be an apple orchard. All the trees were gone now but the barns still stood, or half stood, and one still had the old steam engine powered apple press in it. The neighbor boy and I would play in this barn for hours. Playing cops chasing bad guys or marines in a fierce battle. We were always the victors, of course there wasn't anyone truly fighting back, but that is what imagination is all about.

On this fine sunny, summer day the neighbor kid and I were playing in the barn and for some reason I got the idea that I would play a girl character. I don't remember why I would ever come up with such an idea, but I did. As we played one of us said we should have a play kiss, because that is what boys and girls do, right? The neighbor boy took his hand and put it up to his mouth to cover his lips so that our mouths wouldn't really touch, because after all kissing was gross. We did this several times on this day.

I am not sure when it exactly happened, but I will never forget the moment when we were play kissing and my neighbor pulled his hand away like pulling a table cloth out from under all the dinner wear. It was fast, very fast. “What are you doing!” I said. “Maybe we should try it for real.” was the response. I'm not sure what I was thinking. Maybe it was the prepubescent nature of my hormones, but I remember actually trying it for real.

As far as I remember that was it for that day. I don't remember anything else from that day. I do know that I felt weird and pretty dirty. I had heard my father talk about homosexuality from the pulpit and I knew anything close to that was wrong. I knew that I was in need of forgiveness. I knew I was not suppose to do anything like that. The kissing incident happened a few more time after that. Each time feeling dirty and sick, but at the same time it had awakened something in me that enjoyed it.

I'm not sure when it happened exactly but the neighbor kid eventually introduced me to box full of his brother's pornographic magazines in one of the other barns. It wasn't too long after this that we were no longer wasting our time with play kissing. We had awakened sexuality before its time and it was a downhill spiral into homosexuality that was as dark as the darkest night.

This went on for years. While I knew it was wrong and disgusting I continued to go back to it. Every time I would cry out to God for forgiveness but I would continue in the sin. Every time I would say I will never do it again, but I always would. It became a dark hole from which I couldn't find a way out.

I used to blame the neighbor kid for abusing me, as if I didn't have a choice. Maybe he opened the door, but I chose to walk through it. I no longer blame him for any of it. I place much of the blame on myself. Yes, I have been through the whole, “he sexually abused me” thought process, but really it wasn't. I was just as much of an abuser as he was. I would actually encourage it. Not so much because I liked it, but because I was happy that someone was spending time with me. Someone was there giving me their undivided attention. That is what felt good.

Eventually, I got to a place with God that I knew this could never happen again and I stopped it. I no longer went over to the neighbor's house. I wouldn't even talk to the neighbor kid anymore. For many years after this I felt alone and forgotten. Because of the pain of what I had done I contemplated suicide. Going so far as to take my shot gun off the wall in my bedroom, load it, and hold it pointing the barrel at my face thinking that this would be easier than living with myself being such a disgusting human being. The only thing that stopped me was the thought of what people would think of my parents if I took my own life.

Slowly but surely God began drawing me out of my deep depression and worked in my heart enough to the point where I could function as a human again. But I was different. When I was a kid I was out going and had allot of friends. Now, and to this day, I struggle to make and keep friends, especially male friends. I am afraid they can see me for who I really am, what I did back those many years ago. I found solace in making music, or noise, whatever you want to call it. I purchased a drum set and a big stereo system. I was home schooled so I would sit in my room and blast the music when my mother left to go run errands and beat the hell out of those drums. It was the only thing that helped in those dark days. I would turn on DC Talk or Five Iron Frenzy (both Christian Bands) and would beat those drums until either they broke or I got so winded I couldn't play any more (and yes, I broke my fair share of drum heads).

I am so grateful to my conservative parents that let me work out my depression to loud rock music. I'm not sure why they permitted it, but I am glad they did. There were times when I would be playing and just begin to weep. Either it was something in the song that spoke to my heart or I just found myself in a very broken place. Either way, it was good for my soul.

Without music I would have never come to the place I am at today. For a few years I was a worship leader. One of my friends who was playing drums came over to my house just to hang out. I started playing guitar and singing (as I often did) and just started worshiping. My friend said, “I love watching you just sit here and worship, just you and the guitar.” My friend had no idea the depths I had had to endure to get to that place. My worship comes out of the deep down, dark places of my heart. The places that no average person would care to go, and in fact most people who turn to suicide, I believe are in those depths. Think Lord of The Rings when the fellowship's journey takes them into the Mines of Moria, only darker. That is where my worship flows from.

Not only does my worship flow from there but God's grace also flow to that deep, dark place. That is why I can worship from that place, why I can see light down in those depths. God's light has shined into the darkness in my soul and has dispersed the darkness. Do I know something about the deepest and darkest parts of a mans soul? Yes, I think so. But I know more of the grace that surpasses all understanding. Jesus Christ went to the cross and endured the murderous rage of a world with unexplored deep, dark places in their hearts who would rather kill Him than let Him shine his light in those deep down evil places in our hearts. Yet, “God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions – it is by grace you have been saved.”

God's grace goes deeper than anyone can know. Deeper than the deepest ocean. Jesus is willing to go to the depths of hell for you and I, wrestle the keys of death and destruction from Satan so that we might have life everlasting. Now that is a God who loves more than anyone could ever know. His grace is boundless, his mercy limitless, and his love bigger than all the galaxies combined.

Power of Music

Today I'm sitting at home on my last day off for recovery from a very minor surgery listening to Pandora. I am suddenly hit with the realization that music has a power that I hadn't given much thought to.

A song would come on and my mind would immediately transport me to another time and place in my life. It most often transports me to a time early in my life before I was married, before I had any children. I heard a song from the late 90s and I was transported back to high school when some of the guys from the basketball team I was on would get together early on Saturday mornings and play some pick games.

My brother and I would some times stay the night at one our friends house from the team and then head out to this church with a basketball court at about 8 am. We would listen to rock n' roll on the way there. Rock n' roll music was not allowed in my parents house so we found other means of listening to it. I don't even remember the name of the song, but I get transported back to the first (or one of the first) times I heard it. It was in the parking lot of that Baptist church with a basketball court.

I sometimes will hear an old hymn that has been reworked to be more contemporary. Hearing that tune transports me back to the second pew on the right side of the church that I grew up in. Again, my brother and I would be singing the songs and making up our own words or trying to sing way too low for our vocal ranges.

Just now a song came on called Remedy by The David Crowder Band. It takes me right back to a day when I was super nervous because I was interviewing for a worship leader position at a church in Belding, MI. I was super excited, and super unsure of what I was doing. Renee and I were thinking of up rooting where we were and moving to a small town to lead music at a small church. It didn't work out, but I can relive the whole event just by hearing that one song.

Music has a way of getting us through tough times. I will hear a song that helped me through a very depressing time as a teenager and it will take me right back there and I can see how God used that one song to bring me through that awful time.

One of my favorite songs by a fairly unknown Christian punk band got me through a time when I felt completely alone. I hung out with my friends almost every night, but it didn't matter, I felt like they didn't want me there or care about me. The song is called Every New Day by Five Iron Frenzy. I remember one time when I was feeling so alone and unwanted and I was listening to this song super loud and I was singing at the top of my lungs in my car as I pulled into a friends driveway. When I finally got into his house he said, “man, you were really jammin out for a minute there”.

I don't care what kind of music you listen to, there is something about notes put together to form a song that causes healing in the human soul. I am so thankful for music. 

If you need to reminisce about your life just turn on some music. You will be transported to times you may have forgotten that you lived through.

8 Points for the Fat Kid

 By this point in the week we are heading straight into the mid-week hump and I have to say, I wish we were already at the weeks end. Since my son was born my wife and I rarely do anything outside of the home. Marcus (our son) heads to bed around seven o'clock and Renee and I get to work doing dishes, cleaning the house, and watching “Biggest Loser” while eating popcorn. I know, eating while watching a weight loss show seems pretty cliche, but that is exactly what we do almost every week.

I have recently been reading a book which talks about viewing life as a story and I have to say it is hard to do. I was thinking about the story I have been living thus far in my life. I came to the realization that I have been living a small story. A boring story. A story that would put people to sleep if it were ever to be put into film or book.

I struggle with an immense fear of people, conversation, and failure. Once when I was ten years old I started my own lawn mowing service called “Sutter's Lawn Service”. I hung fliers around a few towns in our area with the little pull off tabs with my phone number on them and waited for someone to call. It took a few weeks but I finally got a call back. I remember that phone call like it was yesterday. My mom answered and called me to the phone and whispered to me that it was someone wanting me to mow their lawn. I took the phone into my shaking hands and put it up to my ear and said, “hellee, Helli, uh!, Hello?” I felt like the stupidest kid in the neighborhood. From that point on I hated talking on the phone and still do to this day.

There were a few years in there where I actually lived in fear of having to answer the telephone and speak with the person on the other end. My fear of phone calls translated and shifted into a fear of people. I wouldn't look people in the eye when in a conversation and rarely started one.

Looking back I can see that my fear kept me from living a larger story. My fear held me captive for far too long. Now, ironically I work in customer service at a retail store. Let's just say I had to face my fear of people head on.

Before reading this book I had not given much thought to what kind of story I was living. I was just living life, or so I thought. I'm the type of person who tries to live in the here and now, not the future. However, I do sometimes find myself living in the past. When I was in high school I played basketball on a home school team. I wasn't very good and spent most of my short lived career sitting on the bench. I was heavy set and short in stature, not a good combination for the sport of basketball, but I loved to play the game. It seems strange, but sometimes I find myself thinking back to a basketball tournament where I I scored eight point in the matter of five minutes. A career first (and last).. When I think about that time in my life I have to smile because I was such a dork.

My story at this point does have all the elements it needs to be a great story according to Donald Miller author of “A Millions Miles in a Thousand Years”. He says the best stories involve “a character who wants something and overcomes conflict to get it”. It is true isn't it? All the great epics portray someone overcoming immense odds to, like Frodo in the epic book and movie trilogy Lord of the Rings, getting the ring to the Mountain of Doom or like Rudy getting the hell beaten outta him by college football players.

I haven't ever faced Orcs or gotten my back side handed to me by a seven foot tall human battering ram, but I have been through my share of life conflict. I don't want to go into my past here but if you read some of my previous blogs you will discover some of the “poo” I have been through.

I'm still not quite sure what I am trying to “get” yet, but I know that it involves my family. My family is my world. I get up everyday, go to work, come back home, and do it all over again the next day for my family.

I used to think that the one thing I was trying to become was a world famous worship leader who would lead thousands of people in worship in stadiums across the country. I would travel all around the world on tour with Chris Tomlin and Louie Giglio. However, as I said in one of my recent posts I got wrapped up in leading worship at my church and kind of forgot about my family. I spent way too much time working and much too little time with my wife and son.

Stepping down as worship leader was one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make. It wasn't just because I love music or that I loved the people that I was leading, but more because I had to let go of the dream. I had to lay down what I thought was important to be a better father, husband, and servant. I got distracted by a smaller side story. I took my eyes off of the real story, which I'm still not clear on, and began to focus on the side plot. Being a world famous worship leader is a smaller story. Being a good father and husband, now that is a story that I want to get wrapped up in.

So what kind of story are you living? Are you lost in the side story, back story, or the special affects? They are all things to distract us from the real story. I can't tell you what your story is, nor can you tell me mine. God has a story for each of us to live, we just have to hit the play button. So... what are you waiting for? To quote from the movie “Narnia: Voyage of the Dawn Treader”, “Your journey begins now!”