Archives For Beliefs of the Heart

My wife and I are celebrating our 30th anniversary in Italy. In my absence, I asked my friend Gary Barkalow to write a couple blogs.

Gary has spent his life studying Calling—you could call him a Calling Expert. I invite you to enjoy with me as he shares.

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“Ok, the idea that I possess a glory, splendor, strength, brilliance that is extraordinary seems a little farfetched.  It’s not my personal experience.  I think my effect is pretty small.  I can only do the best with what I’ve got and that ain’t much.”

I’ve heard this thought many times – within myself and from others.  The truth is that if it was YOU ALONE that might be Assistedtrue, but it isn’t to be YOU ALONE.

Dallas Willard wrote,

Now what we can do by our unassisted strength is very small. What we can do acting with mechanical, electrical, or atomic power is much greater.  Often it is so great that it is hard to believe or imagine without some experience of it.

But even that is still very small compared to what we could do acting in union with God himself, who created and controls all other forces (The Divine Conspiracy).

Our life was never designed to be “unassisted.”  And yet, that is how we live—okay, I live—most of the time.  Partly because I believe the lie that I’m on my own.  Partly because of my fear that God won’t come through.  Partly because “it’s hard to believe or imagine it without some experience of it.”

Jesus repeatedly said, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near.” Matt. 4:17

Dallas told the story of growing up on a farm in southern Missouri where electricity was not available.  Then, one day, it was announced that power lines would be brought in.  It was an opportunity for a different way of life if they if they chose to tap into them.  He writes,

The comparison, you may think, is rather crude, and in some respects it is.  But it will help us to understand Jesus’ basic message about the Kingdom of the Heaven if we pause to reflect on those farmers who, in effect, heard the message: ‘Repent, for electricity is at hand.’

How we live   
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I recently met with someone and—what can I say?—I I just didn’t like him very much. Oh, it wasn’t his bad breath (I didn’t get close enough to find out) and he wasn’t terribly obnoxious.

I just didn’t like him very much. And I felt bad about it.

And, no, he isn’t a reader of this blog. So if you’re a reader, it’s safe to meet with me. (Unless, perhaps, you just don’t like me very much.)

A week later I was sitting in a coffee shop and I overheard a loud no_like_button(obnoxious) neighbor talking about one of her friends. She said,

Well, I love her, but I don’t like her very much.”

I thought, “I know exactly what she means. I love this guy; it’s not my fault I don’t like him very much.” I felt much better about myself and thought,

Yes, that’s me. I’m a loving kind of guy. I obey Christ’s command to love my neighbor even though he’s a bit boring. I like me!”

And then, as these thoughts raced through my mind, I began to dislike myself. As you read my thoughts (above,) perhaps you began to think of me, “What a jerk!”.

Now I’m thinking, “I love me, but I don’t like me very much.”

Why don’t we like some people? Continue Reading…

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A friend once told me that some early Christians thought the story of the Prodigal Son was really the story of Mary and Martha with a gender change. She offered examples:

  • with_mary_and_martha006 r1Martha seems like the older brother, irritated and “slaving” away in duty.
  • Mary sits “inside” at the feet of Jesus while Martha is “outside” in the kitchen.
  • The house doesn’t belong to both of them. Martha owns it, and the Prodigal was penniless because he had spent his portion of the inheritance on wild living.

I wasn’t sold on the interpretation but it tickled my curiosity. In casual conversation I mentioned it to several friends. They were furious at the idea and furious with me.

They were furious, but not because it was idle speculation (which would have been a fair criticism); they were angry because it sullied Mary’s reputation.

  •  “I hate how the church belittles women. Here they strip Mary of her goodness and turn her into some kind of whore.”
  •  “How dare you think of Mary with such dishonor and impurity!

The new interpretation had mildly tickled my curiosity; the ensuing, bitter, indignant, antagonism fascinated me. Mary’s adoration at the feet of Jesus is beautiful.

Could anything she ever did (or didn’t do) in her former life diminish that beauty? Continue Reading…

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Many years ago a young man was transferred to my department. During his first annual review with me, he asked why his raises had been consistently lower than the company average. I answered,

“Well, you’re kind of a jerk.”

And he was. If a colleague asked how the software worked, he’d sigh with feigned Rude customer-service r2patience, look at his watch, and ask, “Don’t you know that by now?” If a client asked how the software worked, he’d huff, “Didn’t I explain that just last month?”

But he was smart. He sliced through client’s problems with scalpel-like sharpness. His technical keenness took the edge off his social rudeness, but just barely. His past annual raises reflected the mixed feelings his previous boss had toward him.

When I told him he is kind of a jerk, he seemed stunned and simply squeaked, “Really?” Then he read, How To Win Friends and Influence People, and began to change. Something really seemed different.

Different enough, that he got a huge raise the following year. He then asked his former boss (a Christian) why the boss hadn’t been honest and direct. The boss admitted, “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” My new employee retorted,

Damn it! Your cowardly Christian niceness cost me thousands of dollars. Thanks for nothing.” (Hey, he was a recovering jerk; I never said he was completely cured.)

Christian cowardice      Continue Reading…

I used to work for a company that created software for publishers. It handled mail orders that were accompanied by checks, cash, or credit card information.

We had a balancing tool that ensured all the money that came into the mailroom was entered into the Grandmother holdup r2system and deposited in the bank. It protected against embezzlement.

In 1988 we installed the software at a large Christian publisher. When management heard of our checks and balances, they were appalled. They felt it questioned the integrity of their employees. They asked us to turn off the balancing feature.

A year later, a timid, gray-haired, rooster-pecked grandmother—a long-term employee of the publisher—stole fifteen thousand dollars.

Afterward I asked her, “Why?” She shyly stammered, “It was so easy. The money was just sitting there. It was just so darn easy.” She added,

I’d heard of embezzlers before. I always said, ‘I’d never do that.And then I did.”

Her simple path to self-destruction    …      Continue Reading…

A few years ago a client came into town for a series of meetings. He asked for a restaurant recommendation, and I suggested my favorite restaurant, The Gandy Dancer. The next day he came to my office Menuand raved about the restaurant. He was going to recommend it to every one of his colleagues.

I asked him what he’d ordered. “Nothing,” he said, he’d been too busy. But he had “stopped by and studied the menu, and everything looked incredible.”

I thought he was nuts.

But I’m beginning to think that most of us believers are equally “nuts.” We read the menu and miss the meal. We nourish our Christian lives by feasting on a cardboard menu of untasted truths.

The cardboard menu is a link to a spiritually nourishing banquet, but too often we simply chew on the cardboard. Is it any wonder our lives look like cardboard-cutouts?

Frankly, cardboard is neither life-giving nor nourishing. Even with a dash of salt.

The Christian life is more than the menu         Continue Reading…

Sinvitation: Ask Why

April 2, 2013 — 21 Comments

A man I know refuses to ask himself, “Why?” When sexual temptations entice, he grits hisarrogant-man r1 teeth and orders himself, “Resist!” When other people irritate him, he furrows his brow and wills himself, “Be nice.” When anxious feelings rear their heads, he decapitates them with a hearty, “Be gone!”

But the thing is—and I’m not sure how to phrase this—he seems a bit arrogant. He handles life so very well; what’s wrong with the rest of us? His advice to sufferers is, “Don’t do it,”  “Be happy,” “Suck it up,” or “Just stop!”

If I’m ever hurting … well … his number is not on my speed-dial.

Another man I know came to me a year ago because someone told him he complains too much. He asked me what I thought.

The truth was he did complain a lot. Grumbling seemed the bass-drum beat of his conversational style: “My wife is a slob,” “My boss it too demanding,” “My colleagues are unappreciative,” and “No one wants to talk with me.”

Yikes! I wasn’t sure how to answer him, but I uneasily admitted that he might grumble more than most. I asked him “Why?” He left in a huff, determined never to complain again (though I’ve wondered since if he complained to his wife about me).

A few months later he was no longer complaining. He was angry; livid with his wife for her housekeeping; angry at his boss for an assignment, and furious with co-workers for their ingratitude. He had exchanged self-pitying complaints for an other-blaming fury.

It was not an improvement.

We need to recognize a spiritual principle            Continue Reading…

When I was thirteen years old, I had an “experience” of God. It happened in a small, circular prayer meeting with about twenty other teenagers.

I began to shake. Every nerve waiting and prayingseemed electrified, hyper alert, or aware. I felt alive and bubbling over, a kind of euphoria. I sat, I shook, and then I prayed, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” The experience lasted for close to an hour.

I wasn’t sure what had happened. But I liked it. I asked God for more of it. In prayer times and prayer meetings I’d pray, “Anoint me again; let me soak in that some more.” But that exhilaration didn’t come back very often.

Let’s skip ahead forty years to last week. I had just returned from a retreat. I was tired and perhaps a bit crabby. The next morning something happened again. I felt stirred and moved. I somehow sensed the reality of God.

My prayer time lasted four hours.

But this experience was different     Continue Reading…

A few weeks ago I had lunch with a friend who has five terrific kids and a great—almost fairy tale—family life. His kids seem to smile while they obey.snoopy writing a book

I admired his parenting skills and asked him his secret. He admitted his desire to write a parenting book. It would address issues like:

  • Kids, cell phones, and when
  • Television, video games, and limits
  • Daily chores, responsibility, and allowance
  • Older kids, younger kids, care, and leadership

My friend is bright, articulate, and humorous. I said his book would sell hundreds of thousands of copies. And then I added … it just slipped out:

“And you’ll doom millions of kids and their parents to hell.”        Continue Reading…

The movie The King’s Speech tells the true tale of a shy prince who becomes a King. “Bertie”—as only his family can call him—is the frog who becomes a prince who is crowned the King of England and who will lead the nation through World War II.

Bertie’s road to the throne is filled with potholes. It is his older brother who is the heir, not Bertie; the scars of his past create fear in this future king of a scared nation; and he stutters in an age Speech at Wembley 2when live speeches are the new way to lead.

At one point he mourns, “I am the seat of all authority because they think that when I speak, I speak for them. But I can’t speak.”

The movie opens as Bertie stammers through a speech at Wembley Stadium, a speech broadcast to the world. We share the prince’s anguish in his painful pauses and repeating c-c-c-consonants, every stutter amplified for the listening ears of the world.

Bertie reluctantly turns to Lionel Logue, an uncertified speech therapist. Lionel sees in Bertie a vein of gold. Lionel unearths this gold by teaching, cajoling, and even provoking the shy prince, until Bertie finally shouts:

Bertie: L-L-L-listen to me

Lionel: Why should I waste my time listening to you?

Bertie: Because I have a right to be heard! I have a voice!

Lionel: [pause] Yes, you do. [stands] … You’re the bravest man I know. You’ll make a bloody good king.

In the movie, a commoner helps the king find his voice. And that is the way it works in the world, underlings give overlings a platform to be heard. Christ turned worldly wisdom upside down. Now it’s the leaders who help others find their voice.

The thing is, few Christian leaders know how to do it.            Continue Reading…