Tag Archives: faith

September 19, 2015

Awkward…!

By pbstone

imageThe half dozen or so people were spread throughout the fitness center. Each one doing her, or his, own thing.  Most were on some sort of cardio machine and only one other was over by the free weights of this Houston area Planet Fitness.  I followed the unwritten rules of gym ettiquette (mostly because it wasn’t my regular gym) and worked out without engaging anybody in conversation.

It’s an interesting phenomenom, belonging to large nationwide gym.  And with Planet Fitness’ “no gymtimidation” policy, most people work out in silence, with headphones on and only on occassion even making eye contact.  Even then the eye contact is usually some sort of non-verbal communication around the use of a piece of equipment – not relationship…

Not here. Not Houston’s little PF on Fondren.  Not with LeRoy.

Let’s face it, public locker rooms are always a bit awkward; and when you are leaving the shower area with your towel wrapped around your waist, you feel particularly vulnerable!  Just saying… That’s how it was for me when I met LeRoy. Still sweating from my workout, but freshly showered before heading to the couple’s therapy training I’m in Houston for, I had my towel around my waist when I hear a southern accent say, “I don’ think I’ve seen you ‘roun’ here before?”

I look to my right and there before me is a tall, thin African American of about 60 years of age. He had a huge smile and held out his hand, “LeRoy.”

“Brian.”  And inside my head there is only one word sreaming loudly, AWKWARD!!!

LeRoy asks when I moved to the area and I explained to him that I was here on sabbatical getting some training on couple’s therapy. LeRoy’s smile immediately is replaced with a look of deep regret.

While we both got ready for the day before us, LeRoy told me about his failed marriage, that he moved to Houston to try and rebuild relationships with his kids and grandchildren, and how much he regretted not working hard to make his marriage work.  He was going to meet his two year old grandson for the first time later that day.

As I was getting ready to leave, he told me to learn a lot. Then he paused and asked, “Would you pray for me today? Maybe you have more pull with the Big Guy than I do.”

I’ve never prayed for anyone in a locker room before, at least I don’t think so, but I’m glad I did.  I will probably never see LeRoy again. But I think our world is full of LeRoy’s. People, like you and me, going through life with its struggles and joys, hurts and pleasures, successes and failures.

And all of us longing to connect more deeply with one another and with God.  Only very few of us will find the courage to step out of the unwritten rules of culture and become vulnerable enough to reach out and connect with others. 

I’m really glad LeRoy had the courage to start a conversation in a locker room – even if it was awkward.

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September 9, 2015

Who Goes First?

By pbstone

stop signAt 7:50pm 4 cars came to the intersection at roughly the same time.  I was second. The first driver was to my left and made a left hand turn.  As he cleared the intersection, I began to cross the intersection. I was second.  My daughter and I had just left the gym after working out, we were tired, thirsty and in desperate need of showers.  We were heading home when the lady from my right pulled out in front of me to cross the intersection.

At that moment you would have been hard pressed to find any love at the corner of Ravine and Nichols in the Kalamazoo area!  My windows were up and the air conditioning on so I don’t know what it was she was yelling out her window.  But as I uttered inside the confines of our 2001 Subaru Forester (180,000+), “Not your turn,” I could tell by the look on her face that she was maybe more angry than I was.

But, it was MY TURN! 

Have you ever noticed how often we think about it being “my turn?”

It’s my turn for a promotion at work. It’s my turn to go first. It’s my turn to be successful. It’s my turn to get the biggest piece. It’s my turn to use the car. It’s my turn to get… You get the picture right?

Ironically, just yesterday morning I had a conversation with some amazing people looking at how to live a more mission/other minded life and what it looks like to create more loving spaces in the mundane places of our lives.  It’s hard to live a life of love when we are focused on MY TURN.  In the book of Philippians, Paul reminds those of us who have been deeply impacted by Christ’s love to be more concerned with OTHERS than ourselves.  Here are the words he uses in chapter 2:3-4:

Don’t let selfishness and prideful agendas take over. Embrace true humility, and lift your heads to extend love to others. Get beyond yourselves and protecting your own interests; be sincere, and secure your neighbors’ interests first.

In spite of all the rhetoric about love wins, our culture is making it increasingly more difficult to live a life that is other focused and rooted in love. In fact, today Tim Cook and Apple will tell me that the new iPhone 6 I got two months ago is now obsolete, that my iPad is too small and that AppleTV is a real necessity!  Technology isn’t bad. That’s not what I am saying.  Our culture, however, continues to disciple us into thinking and behaving more and more individually and in self-centered ways.

But I am responsible for how I live and love – not culture.  I can make choices about who I want to be and the way I want people to experience me.  And last night there was a stranger who didn’t experience love while crossing an intersection.  Last night, without thinking, I also discipled my daughter teaching her to be as self-centered and unloving as I was.

I don’t have to be selfish.  I don’t have to be self-centered.  Because of Christ’s work in me I can choose to be different.  I can be transformed by the renewing of my mind. I have this amazing partner, the Holy Spirit, who helps me learn to lead myself.

Who will you be today? Will you choose with me to love someone you otherwise might not want to?

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August 31, 2015

My Prayers Grew With Him

By pbstone

michael

October 31, 1996 (Halloween), two days after his birth, I drove him and his mother home from the hospital.  During that drive I prayed.  And I prayed what I thought to be the most profound prayer ever prayed by a new father.  I prayed, God, don’t let me get in an accident and kill him on our way home!  I don’t know how many times I prayed that prayer during the 15 minute drive from the hospital to our home, but it is a short prayer and I am sure I prayed it hundreds of times before pulling into the driveway while the neighborhood was filling with costumed children out trick or treating.

Married for almost 8 years, I barely knew how to be a husband (still…?) much less a dad, and the profundity of my prayer life continued.  When he would be awake at night my prayer was, Lord, help him fall asleep already! I can’t keep my eyes open any longer! Then, after he fell asleep and I would be gently – oh so gently – placing him into his crib my prayers would deepen further into, Ok God, I putting him down now, keep him sleeping…

And, when his eyes would sometimes open after I laid him down I would have two very different, almost conflicting 3:00am thoughts/prayers that went something like this, God, I love this kid! God, do you hate me?!?!

As exhausting as those first years were, especially as sister and brother came along, they didn’t last long. And as Michael grew and developed, so did I.  I grew up as a dad.  Well, somewhat anyway.  What I do know is this, my prayers grew.  My prayers grew with him.

I prayed for his first day of school.  I prayed for tests.  I prayed for him when he got injured.  I prayed for forgiveness when I blew it.  I prayed he would forgive me when I blew it.  I prayed for his friends.  I prayed as the years went by.

My prayers grew from a starting place of praying for the immediacy of having his needs met (food, sleep, safety, love & shelter) in order that I might have some short term peace, to a place of learning to pray more deeply, for things of more significance and for the longview of his life.

My prayers grew in substance.  Today Michael is an amazing young man enrolled as a freshman in college and my prayers for him are much different.  I do pray for the immediate things still – that he would study hard, learn well, make incredible friends, be exposed to all sorts of great challenges that shape him, etc… But more than that, I pray for longterm fruit of the spirit in his life, for him to give himself to something significant, life giving and helps better the world God so loves.  I pray for lasting joy that overcomes in hardship and trial.  I pray that he would live in, and be a sharer, of the Shalom of God.

My prayers, they grew with him.

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August 13, 2015

Learning Leadership From Horses…?

By pbstone

Craig & Demo2Demo was one of the seven horses we would take out on our ride that day. None of the horses, mind you, were your standard “trail ride” horses that just follow nose to tail while your butt gets sore for an hour. A mustang caught from the wild in Utah, Demo was different. Head strong, independent and a leader in the herd, Demo used to be called Demolition Man – you can figure out why. And I was about to ride him!

But before I could ride him, Craig (our host at Shiloh Ranch – a ministry to ministry families) needed to bring him in. But Demo wasn’t about to let a lead rope be put around his neck and head. He wasn’t about to submit to Craig. Craig wasn’t the leader, wasn’t in charge – Demo was. It took some time for Craig to get Demo separated from the rest of the horses into the smaller corral.

And there I saw a lesson for how God leads us.

Craig would get Demo moving in one direction around the corral by applying pressure. He did this by pointing, using his voice and waving the rope. He never hit Demo, didn’t abuse Demo and never became aggressive with Demo. After he would make several loops in one direction, applying pressure Craig would steer him in the opposite direction. Craig would do this with Demo several times and then he would suddenly stop and lower the rope, his arm and his face so he wasn’t looking at Demo at all.

He waited.

And when Demo didn’t respond, the whole exercise took place again. Sometimes the rhythm was different. The amount of time spent in one direction over another would change. And when it wasn’t expected, Craig would stop – and wait – until Demo moved.

Toward Craig.

Not immediately taking control by slipping the lead rope around the horses neck and head, Craig did something that made me curious. He wrapped his arms around Demo’s neck, nuzzled his cheek against the horse and gently loved on the beautiful mustang. Only then did Craig slip Demo’s lead rope on.

In those ten minutes I saw in Craig and Demo how God has time and time again been at work in my life.

Directing Demo in the corral was consistently done with deep respect for Demo: looking at him the right way, keep a proper distance, using his voice gently and firmly and never frightening or demeaning the horse. And then, when Craig would stop and lower his head, it was an invitation for Demo to draw near. And, when he was ready, he did.

God will often, with amazing love and respect, direct our lives by his Voice, with his hand or with circumstances. But God never forces himself upon us. And, when it is time, God invites us, again, to draw close to him – toward intimacy and purpose.

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. Mt 11:28-30

I wonder how God is inviting you to draw near to him today? And for what purpose?

Demo’s purpose that day was to give me a ride through some of the most beautiful countryside. And we had fun!

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July 16, 2015

To the woman who had an abortion… and to the church

By pbstone

image

I was sitting at lunch yesterday, on the first day of a retreat, when my friend Nate told me Twitter was blowing up over Planned Parenthood. I didn’t think about it much at the time.

Then last night I began reading the stories. I had a lot of feelings: Anger, disappointment, disgust… Then Messenger buzzed.

It was a young mom I know really well.

She’s a great mom. And I will never forget the incredible courage it took for her to share with me that she had had an abortion, the circumstances surrounding it and the shame-filled self loathing guilt she felt everyday:

Would she ever stop grieving? Could Jesus ever really love her? Forgive her? Could she ever forgive herself? Would I think differently of her and push her away? Would the church?

That was several years ago. And in a moment it seems like all the healing, discipleship and faith building has been undone.

She had gone to a Planned Parenthood clinic to have the abortion performed.

Every angry post on Facebook, every Tweet of disgust, each news article are experienced as deep cuts of a knife to her soul. They remind her to keep believing the lies she has been working so hard with God to overcome.

She wants to hide in her shame, disconnect from others & God and not be known. Like the Samaritan woman at the well in John 4, she “knows” she is unloveable, unforgivable, and undesirable. 

She isn’t alone. I know several women who constantly battle with the ongoing shame of their abortions. I also know there are many more who suffer in their shame in silence. That is what shame does, after all.

To every woman who suffers in this shame, even more so in the wake of Planned Parenthood, I want to hold both of your hands gently in mine and look you in the eye:

You are created in the image of God. You are beautiful. Jesus loves you. In fact, Jesus couldn’t possibly love you more than he does right now. His grace is yours and I offer you mine. I do not condem or judge you. I want to know and love you, the real you – in the midst of the mess.

And others want to as well. You don’t always have to hide. You have something incredible to offer all of us – your self. I know it feels impossible, but reach out. Find someone safe to reach out to. Tell your story to someone who will listen and love. Be reminded of the incredible gift you are. 

I know it’s risky and scares you to pieces; but you don’t have to walk alone.

Church – may we remember that our anger and outrage often has the unintended consequences of pushing others away from Christ’s love and grace rather than inviting them toward it. If you know someone struggling in all this, would you share this with them? Remind them you love them?

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May 21, 2015

When Love Comes To Town…

By pbstone

katuba hands

Love comes to town, I’m gonna jump that train
When love comes to town, I’m gonna catch that flame

This is one of my favorite pictures I took while in Uganda.  It’s an expression of love.  In Uganda it is not uncommon for men to hold hands with other men or for women to hold hands with other women.  It says something loudly, boldly.  There’s nothing sexual about it, but it is a proclamation.

Without any words at all, while walking along at the care point, a little hand reached in and entertwined fingers with mine. I looked down.  He looked up.  We didn’t say a word but just kept walking. Together.  Hand in hand.  When Noah took my hand he was saying something.  He was telling me he wanted to be WITH me, that BEING together was important.  We didn’t have to do anything.  We walked and held hands.

In Uganda I learned that touch and presence are important.  That just being with is more than doing for.

Jesus commands us to love one another.  He prayed that we would be one.  In fact, Jesus sums up ALL of the law and the prophets with these words in Matthew 22:

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.

It’s pretty easy to love Noah.  Look at him. Right. That’s a face that just screams “squeeze me!”  Katuba noahThose are eyes that let him get away with all kinds of mischief.  He has a heart that is tender and precious.  It’s easy to love Noah.

It isn’t always easy to love our neighbor.  Our neighbor isn’t always cute.  Our neighbor isn’t always who we choose to be friends with. Our neighbor isn’t always gentle and kind. But then, neither are we.

And yet, there is the clarion call of the Gospel.  Love your neighbor.  Who will you love with your presence?  Who will you go out of your way to just be with?  Who will you love – just because?

Jesus was accused of being a friend of sinners.  And in his process of discipleship, Jesus taught the twelve, and us, that we are to be friends – with people like us and people not like us.

Will you catch that train with me?

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November 4, 2014

when integrity is GRITY

By pbstone

integrity or ethics concept

So, I had one of those that moment when moments…  Yep.  It was AWESOME!

Here at Haven we have been engaged in a teaching series about loving one another well.  It has been a really fun and, at times, very powerful teaching series for us.  This past Sunday it was again my turn to teach.  I was geeked.  I love teaching.  I love this community of faith I am part of!  I love Jesus and I love what Jesus says about how we love one another.  Sunday I taught on how we love one another by having integrity with one another.

We talk about integrity often in our context – it’s one of our core values.  One way we define it is like this, “doing what I said I would do, when I said I would do it and in the manner in which it is meant to be done.”  We have integrity when we give our word and we keep our word.  We also believe we are to give our word to BIG things – like restoration, redemption and stuff like that.  We also talk about HONORING our word when we can’t or don’t keep our word.  We talk about honoring our word in the same way we talk about cleaning up a mess.  In fact, when we honor our word, that’s what we are doing. We are cleaning up a mess…

Of course, it was a ground shaking, moving teaching time that deeply impacted people who weren’t even there 🙂  That was Sunday.  On Monday evening, at 7:15, I have a coaching call every week with two amazing men who are pursuing deep levels of transformation in their lives through a process called Faithwalking (part of our discipleship process). We aren’t far into the process, but our calls have been rich and provocative as we pursue a deeper walk with Christ together.  Coaching is one of my favorite privileges!

I missed the call.  One day after teaching the congregation to love one another by keeping their word with one another, I freakin’ missed the call!  I know.  It isn’t life shattering – it was just one of many calls.  No biggie, right?  So, because I am the expert on integrity ( I’m the pastor so I must be right? ) I immediately cleaned up the mess.

Nope.  I didn’t.  When I realized I missed the call the shame voice in my head kicked in.  We all have a shame voice.  It’s the committee that meets in our heads to remind us of all our deficiencies and how bad we are.  My shame voice reminded me that if I can’t make a simple phone call not only am I not qualified to be a coach but I am certainly not qualified to be a pastor!  So in the space of nano-seconds I shifted gears to divert the blame.  I spent the next 15 to 20 minutes rehearsing in my head all the excuses I could make in order to look good and still be qualified.  I don’t get to have those 15 – 20 minutes back…

After telling the shame committee that I deeply appreciate all their hard work and insight, I also told them they could sit down in the corner and be quiet for a bit.  In the moment of silence that followed, I quickly sent a text to both of the guys I had blown off.  I owned the mess – yep, the milk all over the table and floor is mine! I also asked for a time within the next day when I could talk to them individually to clean it up.

In cleaning up the mess I asked what impact my not showing up had on them. After listening actively to each, I asked forgiveness and have recommitted myself to be fully present as their coach.

We all have areas in our lives where integrity is lacking.  Places and relationships that aren’t working to the degree they could.  We also have these shame voices that work really hard to keep us from cleaning up our messes in a way that is healthy and restorative.  It takes a lot of courage to honor our word rather than to offer up excuses.

One of the biggest gateways to my own transformation has been a willingness to quiet the shame voices enough to clean up my messes.  I haven’t gotten it right 100%.  I still blow it.  But I keep pressing forward toward the goal to which Christ calls me.

Will you clean up a mess this week?

btw, both Don and Larrie are rockstars and our conversations were filled with grace!

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September 29, 2014

Going Postal

By pbstone

racism-2014

She tilted her head and looked over the top of her glasses and said, “You know I’m joking right?”

Mary (not her real name) is a bright 27 year old follower of Jesus. I know Mary through Jesus Loves Kalamazoo and those are the last words she heard as she left the post office last week deeply embarrassed and offended. Mary is African American and those last words came from the lips of the Caucasian postal clerk at the end of a transaction filled with judgment and racism.

Because I know Mary a bit, when I heard about her experience in the post office, I asked her to share the experience with me. I wanted to know what the impact of that experience was like on her. So today she sat down with me and shared her story. I’m sharing it with you, not because it is the most horrific event known to man, but because I believe it tells the story of so many and highlights what is still so in our culture today.

At this point, many of you are going to be tempted to quit reading. I get that. There’s also a part of me that doesn’t want to know this goes on still.

It is September of 2014 and Mary goes into the post office to pick up a package, from the VA, for her mom. Her mom has all the proper paper work filled out so Mary can pick it up on her behalf. But as she engages the postal worker at the window Mary is harassed, belittled, profiled, accused of being a junkie and a drug dealer by the clerk.

 Loudly, so loud every one in the room can hear, the clerk tells her that often the VA will send narcotics through the mail and that she is wondering if Mary is going to go sell them.   Mary, of course, is horrified and offended. She is embarrassed. “You just don’t talk to people that way,” Mary tells me.

After proclaiming she needs her supervisor’s approval, the worker leaves Mary standing at the window feeling just slightly awkward. When she returns with the package, it is with an equally as loud, “I guess you can go get high now” that she hands it to Mary.

Maybe it’s because of the color of Mary’s skin? Maybe it’s because Mary is young (a whole two decades younger than me!)? Maybe it’s the combination of the two? I think we all know there are white folks selling drugs and doing drugs. I think we also know there are old peeps who also sell and do drugs. And if we all know that, then why profile Mary?

I don’t know if it was the look on her face as Mary turned to leave, but the clerk – probably realizing she has crossed a line, finishes their interaction with “you know I’m joking, right?” What I can say is this, the only time I have ever said that is when I KNOW I have crossed the line, said something unacceptable, and want to cover it up and make sure I don’t get into trouble.

When I asked Mary what the impact of that exchange was on her, I could tell it was difficult for her to identify it. She felt humiliated and embarrassed – like her dignity was being stripped away. She didn’t make eye contact with anyone else in the crowded lobby as she got out of there as fast as she could.  At the same time, however, she also said it is what she has always experienced.

Mary went on to tell me about being ignored by white teachers when asking for help, of being snubbed by white students at school and how even being on the same sports teams didn’t make the playing field level.

In Galatians 3:8 Paul tells us, “there is no longer Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male and female. For you are all one…” If that is our spiritual reality, I wonder how long it will be before we live that way?

I don’t know how many times I have been to the post office – often looking like I have been dragged through the gutter. Never has anyone assumed I was doing drugs or selling drugs. And, if they did, nobody has ever said as much out loud to me. And certainly not in a public space like the post office.

Because of the way I look, speak and dress, nobody has ever profiled me for anything except for being the amazing upstanding citizen I am! (ok, I see that look!)  Whether you want to believe it or not, because of the way I look, because I was born to white parents, I live in a position of white, male privilege. And in order for me to live in privilege, that means somebody doesn’t get to – that’s the nature of privilege, some get to have it and others don’t.

In this instance, Mary doesn’t. Mary doesn’t get to go to the post office and assume it is a safe place for her to do business. Mary doesn’t get to believe that others will just assume the best of her. Mary doesn’t get to have the privilege of being able to go in and out of places, like the post office, without wondering if she will once again be harassed, belittled, profiled and accused.

Not unless something deep changes in our nation. My hope is that the church will lead the way and that we will learn to love the way Jesus loved.

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October 1, 2013

Blame: from Government Shut Down to Life…

By pbstone

Image

It’s automatic isn’t it?  There is this feeling we have.  Deep.  Inside us.  Powerful emotions get triggered and we feel threatened, angry, afraid.  

Somewhere along the way in life, we don’t get what we want.  Our children don’t behave the way we want. We don’t get the promotion we want. The driver in front goes slower than we want. The train comes at a time we don’t want. We are later to a meeting than we want. The girl we want to date says “no” (not in my case, of course, she said “yes” even after praying I wouldn’t ask her out…). Somewhere along the way in life we don’t get what we want and deep emotions are stirred.  The Senate and the President won’t budge on healthcare and the House won’t budge on not funding it.  The government shuts down.  We don’t get what we want.

So – what do we do with those deep feelings?

Let’s be honest, we don’t like feeling those deep negative emotions.  I know people deeply passionate on both sides of the whole budget/obamacare issue.  They are feeling deep negative emotions.  And I know if I ask them, they will tell me they don’t like feeling the way they do.  

When we feel deep negative emotions about people or circumstances we want to do something with those feelings.  We feel like a 2 liter bottle of Diet Coke that has been shaken for hours and has also had a roll of Mentos dropped in (try it, it’s fun!).  We feel so deeply and powerfully that we find we need to off load those feelings.

Blaming is how we often deal with our negative emotions

Our children don’t do what we want, others see it, we are embarrassed (because they behaved like children?) and so we blame. The traffic runs slow or the train stops us in our tracks and we are late for work – in order not to look bad, we blame the drivers and train.  We are late for the meeting because the elevator stopped on every floor.  

We blame.  We blame our children, the people around us and the circumstances around us. We off load our negative feelings by pushing the responsibility away from ourselves.

Politicians blame too!

The House is blaming the Senate. The Senate is blaming the House. The President is blaming the House.  The Republicans blame the Democrats and the Democrats blame the Republicans.  

There is an interesting phenomenon taking place in our brains when we feel strong negative feelings.  Chemicals are released that help us become more reactive and less responsive.  In other words, we don’t think very well when we are engulfed in negative feelings.  I have a friend who says we become stupid.  I think I agree.

Blaming keeps us stuck in a pattern of compromised thinking.  Blaming keeps us in a cycle of feeling negative emotions toward others or the circumstances we are faced with because we continue to highlight the negative role they are playing, which keeps us trapped in thinking about how miserable they are making us feel, etc…

We blame too!  We are doing it today.  Depending on what you want, you are blaming somebody for the government shut-down.  You either blame the House for trying to defund Obamacare, or you blame the Senate & the President for not being willing to budge. 

When I am blaming others for the circumstances I don’t like, I am not thinking….very well. When I am stuck not thinking very well, I am not taking responsibility.  

Our elected officials carry a lot of responsibility but are not living into that responsibility when they are playing the Blame Game.

We carry a lot of responsibility too.  And we are not living into that responsibility when we play the Blame Game.  

Interestingly, I think we carry as much, or maybe even more, responsibility for where we are as a country than those in Washington.  We not only live within a system, but are deeply part of that system.  And as part of that system, we have elected Senators, Representatives and Presidents.  We have placed them in office and then blamed them when “Washington doesn’t work the way we want.”  

We put the Representatives into the House, we put the Senators into the Senate and we put the President into the White House; and yet we expect a different result than the one we are currently getting? I am part of that “we.” 

The kind of people we elect to office matters!

I am a part of this world and I deeply believe that how I live either helps bring the Kingdom of God, or the Shalom of God, to bear in a way that restores and reconciles places of brokenness; or I am contributing to that brokenness.

I can contribute to the brokenness of a dysfunctional government by letting my anger or fear drive me to blame; or I can take responsibility.

I wonder what it looks like to take responsibility for big things when I don’t feel I have the capacity?

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