Easter - I Have Risen Indeed!
Irenaeus, who was a disciple of the Apostle John, has a line that has been quoted over and over again, "The glory of God is the human being fully alive." However, this line is somewhat cherry-picked from the whole statement. The statement continues with, "and the life of the human consists in beholding God." Life, life and more life! That is the Easter story. Death has been swallowed up by life. Easter is an invitation to behold the mystery and participate in the reality of the resurrected, re-created and re-imagined life of God.
The Lent season of less has shown me that I need to let go of a lot of things to behold God. I need to let go of all my pursuits of more, find myself in a place of less and then open myself up. It is no wonder that God has such a preference for the spiritually impoverished, the meek, the mourning, the marginalized and the misunderstood. These are people that can more easily behold God. They have more room for trust, love and God-life. They aren't holding tightly to all the other forms of pseudo-living and their own bigness. They have room at the Inn of their hearts for a baby in a manger and the have room in their minds for an unbelievable experience of an empty tomb. They are constantly on the precipice of becoming fully alive!
I have found that there is a little more freedom in less of me. This Easter I sit with this strange and strong response to the traditional mantra, "He is risen." Instead of the typical response "He has risen indeed," I feel compelled to blurt out, "I have risen indeed!" Throughout the journey into heart of God in the person of Jesus, there are confounding paradoxes, ridiculous challenges, hopeful murmurings and courageous trust. Yet, the ending of it all is me... beholding Jesus... fully alive. Alive with the source of all Resurrection and Life. I have risen indeed!
Sunday, April 16, 2017
Saturday, April 15, 2017
Lent Day 31 - Sabbath Liberation Movement
At the time Jesus walked the earth Jewish tradition had two primary purposes for Sabbath keeping. Beyond merely keeping up with the local religious and societal obligations and law, the Sabbath was, first of all, observed to honor God's command to rest on the 7th day. This was a clear observance of the truth that "I"am not God and the world functions just fine without "me." It is an invitation into worshipful wonder and trust-filled connection and rest. It is a profound reminder that the world functions just fine without me. Secondly, the Sabbath was an observation of the Jews liberation from slavery. It was a reminder that God was a freedom-giver and a liberator. To put it simply, Sabbath was a return to two core truths about life in God; 1) I am cared for and 2) I am free. Typically, two candles were lit to commemorate each meaning or purpose of Sabbath.
I find that I when I'm in my own place of less or rest (Sabbath) I can see my oppressor much more clearly. The worst of my oppressors is "me." "I" am a terrible oppressor of "me." "I" can continually let myself know that I am not good enough, doing enough and falling short. "I" oppresses with great anxiety, guilt and shame. "I" secretly oppresses with doubt, comparison, discouragement and despair. "I" drives me to do more, be more, keep pushing and keep striving. "I", like an evil oppressor, gives little to no reward for all this torment and striving. It is no wonder why I avoid the less and rest of Sabbath. It is in that place I can see and hear my inner-oppresser so much more clearly. I'm also left with a sense of powerlessness to do anything about the oppressor since it dwells within me. So, "I" am in need of a much different "I am."
When Moses asks God (Yaweh) what to tell the Hebrews when he goes to rescue them, God answers, "Tell them 'I am' sent you" (Ex. 3:14). It was implicit that "I am" was the source of all life-giving power. "I am" was used by Pharaohs, Kings and Emperors as a statement of their power and their rule. So, when Moses tells his people that their "I am" has sent Moses to free them, they would understand its significance. As the liberation movement continues and the stakes get higher, Moses asks the great "I am" for reassurance. The answer Moses receives in the high stakes quest of liberating millions of people from the most powerful nation on earth is, "My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest" (Ex. 33:14). In the God life, rest and liberation go together. God's presence and call remains the same, liberation from the tyrants of life and restful peace in His goodness. May today I find the liberation from my internal tyrant through trusting resting the presence of God. I am deeply cared for and I am abundantly free!
At the time Jesus walked the earth Jewish tradition had two primary purposes for Sabbath keeping. Beyond merely keeping up with the local religious and societal obligations and law, the Sabbath was, first of all, observed to honor God's command to rest on the 7th day. This was a clear observance of the truth that "I"am not God and the world functions just fine without "me." It is an invitation into worshipful wonder and trust-filled connection and rest. It is a profound reminder that the world functions just fine without me. Secondly, the Sabbath was an observation of the Jews liberation from slavery. It was a reminder that God was a freedom-giver and a liberator. To put it simply, Sabbath was a return to two core truths about life in God; 1) I am cared for and 2) I am free. Typically, two candles were lit to commemorate each meaning or purpose of Sabbath.
I find that I when I'm in my own place of less or rest (Sabbath) I can see my oppressor much more clearly. The worst of my oppressors is "me." "I" am a terrible oppressor of "me." "I" can continually let myself know that I am not good enough, doing enough and falling short. "I" oppresses with great anxiety, guilt and shame. "I" secretly oppresses with doubt, comparison, discouragement and despair. "I" drives me to do more, be more, keep pushing and keep striving. "I", like an evil oppressor, gives little to no reward for all this torment and striving. It is no wonder why I avoid the less and rest of Sabbath. It is in that place I can see and hear my inner-oppresser so much more clearly. I'm also left with a sense of powerlessness to do anything about the oppressor since it dwells within me. So, "I" am in need of a much different "I am."
When Moses asks God (Yaweh) what to tell the Hebrews when he goes to rescue them, God answers, "Tell them 'I am' sent you" (Ex. 3:14). It was implicit that "I am" was the source of all life-giving power. "I am" was used by Pharaohs, Kings and Emperors as a statement of their power and their rule. So, when Moses tells his people that their "I am" has sent Moses to free them, they would understand its significance. As the liberation movement continues and the stakes get higher, Moses asks the great "I am" for reassurance. The answer Moses receives in the high stakes quest of liberating millions of people from the most powerful nation on earth is, "My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest" (Ex. 33:14). In the God life, rest and liberation go together. God's presence and call remains the same, liberation from the tyrants of life and restful peace in His goodness. May today I find the liberation from my internal tyrant through trusting resting the presence of God. I am deeply cared for and I am abundantly free!
Friday, April 7, 2017
Lent Day 30 - Every Breaking Wave
There is a knowledge and wisdom that only art can speak into and teach us. I have a crucial need for the poets, painters, storytellers and singer/songwriters. They have a cunning way to drop below my mental/rational defenses and enter into the backdoor of my heart. Their wisdom is often disguised as an entertaining guest that ends up being a wise sage, speaking from the native tongue of the heart. For me, music has often introduced my to the native language of my heart.
I've found myself the last couple days singing "Every Breaking Wave" by U2. The song has seemed to come spontaneously and without permission. The chorus has really struck a deeper nerve in me that I couldn't quite place my finger on or understand. So, today I just tried to listen with my heart. It wrecked me. It snuck in the backdoor, dropped its wisdom and sat there.
"If you go,
If you go your way and I go mine.
Are we so,
Are we so helpless against the tide.
Baby, every dog on the street
Knows that we're in love with defeat.
Are we ready to be swept off our feet,
And stop chasing every breaking wave."
As I listened to the melodic groans of Bono tears started rolling down my cheeks. I felt something buried, something far beneath my systems of denial. I felt the painful invitation and eventual need to let go. The picture that led me was a heartbreaking view of the loss of my daily relationship with my dad at 8 years old. The picture showed that when he left he went his way to chase every breaking wave of his addiction. He was in love with defeat and never learned to let go and let himself be swept off his feet for the life he was supposed to live.
I realized I continue his wave-chasing process in my own life. My need for more is just chasing every breaking wave. In wave-chasing I end up being way too comfortable with defeat. I felt God asking me if I'm ready to stop chasing every breaking wave in my life and allow myself to be swept off of my feet into a life of deep faith, risk and reLENTless TRUST. Today, the Lighthouse's call to let go is terrifying, but I'm learning that chasing every breaking wave is too exhausting and I'm tired of being in love with the certainty of defeat. I'm moving towards a readiness to lose control and be swept off my feet.
Jesus, show me the way of "not my will, but your's be done!"
There is a knowledge and wisdom that only art can speak into and teach us. I have a crucial need for the poets, painters, storytellers and singer/songwriters. They have a cunning way to drop below my mental/rational defenses and enter into the backdoor of my heart. Their wisdom is often disguised as an entertaining guest that ends up being a wise sage, speaking from the native tongue of the heart. For me, music has often introduced my to the native language of my heart.
I've found myself the last couple days singing "Every Breaking Wave" by U2. The song has seemed to come spontaneously and without permission. The chorus has really struck a deeper nerve in me that I couldn't quite place my finger on or understand. So, today I just tried to listen with my heart. It wrecked me. It snuck in the backdoor, dropped its wisdom and sat there.
"If you go,
If you go your way and I go mine.
Are we so,
Are we so helpless against the tide.
Baby, every dog on the street
Knows that we're in love with defeat.
Are we ready to be swept off our feet,
And stop chasing every breaking wave."
As I listened to the melodic groans of Bono tears started rolling down my cheeks. I felt something buried, something far beneath my systems of denial. I felt the painful invitation and eventual need to let go. The picture that led me was a heartbreaking view of the loss of my daily relationship with my dad at 8 years old. The picture showed that when he left he went his way to chase every breaking wave of his addiction. He was in love with defeat and never learned to let go and let himself be swept off his feet for the life he was supposed to live.
I realized I continue his wave-chasing process in my own life. My need for more is just chasing every breaking wave. In wave-chasing I end up being way too comfortable with defeat. I felt God asking me if I'm ready to stop chasing every breaking wave in my life and allow myself to be swept off of my feet into a life of deep faith, risk and reLENTless TRUST. Today, the Lighthouse's call to let go is terrifying, but I'm learning that chasing every breaking wave is too exhausting and I'm tired of being in love with the certainty of defeat. I'm moving towards a readiness to lose control and be swept off my feet.
Jesus, show me the way of "not my will, but your's be done!"
Wednesday, April 5, 2017
Lent Day 29 - Unforced Rhythms of Grace
When something shows up randomly, powerfully and spontaneously twice in the same day it's time to pay attention. This morning I enjoyed eggs, bacon, great coffee and a deep fried waffle over a deep fried conversation with Randal. Randal is one of my amazing friends. He does really cool things like speaks to a lot of folks, coaches remarkable people, and writes real good stuff. I get to be his friend. Our times together are deep fried rich! In the course of our conversation about life and burdens and stuff he shared this passage out of Eugene Peterson's Message translation of the Bible, "Jesus said, 'Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me - watch how I do it. Learned the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.'" (Matthew 11:28-30) The words were like the whipped cream on the waffle. I loved the line about learning the unforced rhythms of grace. I wasn't sure what that looked like, but I would love to learn how to do that.
Later this evening, in our weekly hosting of a group of people also trying to live out the God-life, our reading presented the exact same passage. It was the exact same translation. I payed really close attention. We let the words sit with us for a while and then talked about them and what those words meant to us. Coming to Jesus, who bears burdens, who gives rest, who shows grace, who gives life and lives it out freely and lightly! We had more deep fried conversations about the honesty of our heavy burdened lives and our need for more rest, more grace and more free and light living. We let ourselves take it in and then pray for its reality.
It struck me while we were praying that I was living in the very midst of the unforced rhythms of grace. My time with Randal, my time with my friends this evening, my time wrestling and playing with my boys, my time talking to my wife and seeing the God-life all around me were all moments of the unforced rhythms of grace. It's everywhere! I don't have to force it, achieve it or jump through any special spiritual hoops. I just have to see it for what it is, learn it and live in it. I will come to Jesus and learn the unforced rhythms of grace.
*Randal Smalls just released a new book, Builders and Blockers of Life: Overcoming Obstacles for a Better You
When something shows up randomly, powerfully and spontaneously twice in the same day it's time to pay attention. This morning I enjoyed eggs, bacon, great coffee and a deep fried waffle over a deep fried conversation with Randal. Randal is one of my amazing friends. He does really cool things like speaks to a lot of folks, coaches remarkable people, and writes real good stuff. I get to be his friend. Our times together are deep fried rich! In the course of our conversation about life and burdens and stuff he shared this passage out of Eugene Peterson's Message translation of the Bible, "Jesus said, 'Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me - watch how I do it. Learned the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.'" (Matthew 11:28-30) The words were like the whipped cream on the waffle. I loved the line about learning the unforced rhythms of grace. I wasn't sure what that looked like, but I would love to learn how to do that.
Later this evening, in our weekly hosting of a group of people also trying to live out the God-life, our reading presented the exact same passage. It was the exact same translation. I payed really close attention. We let the words sit with us for a while and then talked about them and what those words meant to us. Coming to Jesus, who bears burdens, who gives rest, who shows grace, who gives life and lives it out freely and lightly! We had more deep fried conversations about the honesty of our heavy burdened lives and our need for more rest, more grace and more free and light living. We let ourselves take it in and then pray for its reality.
It struck me while we were praying that I was living in the very midst of the unforced rhythms of grace. My time with Randal, my time with my friends this evening, my time wrestling and playing with my boys, my time talking to my wife and seeing the God-life all around me were all moments of the unforced rhythms of grace. It's everywhere! I don't have to force it, achieve it or jump through any special spiritual hoops. I just have to see it for what it is, learn it and live in it. I will come to Jesus and learn the unforced rhythms of grace.
*Randal Smalls just released a new book, Builders and Blockers of Life: Overcoming Obstacles for a Better You
Tuesday, April 4, 2017
Lent Day 28 - Just Receive
The anxiety of more has a profound way of being driven by not enough. Not enough is always looking for an excuse to prove its own point. It often does this by comparing to the more of others while highlighting the not enough of me. So, driven to be enough, I strategize, stretch, listen to podcasts, read books, get advice and obsess about how to get and be more. I can aimlessly scurry around chasing an arbitrary standard of more. Ironically, I'm not even sure what more actually is or what it looks like. More is always changing. Much like not enough is always looking for an excuse, more is always look for... more. Sounds crazy? IT IS!
One of the problems I encounter is I'm surrounded by high capacity friends who are constantly doing more and being a part of more. I want what they have. I believe I can have what they have and be a part of the more. This creates an utterly unholy discontent for where I am and what I'm a part of.
As this season has shown me, I have many different ailments of the curse of more. And, of course, it is born out of a belief of not enough. The spiritual leader known as John the Baptist was gaining incredible popularity and notoriety as a the leader of a powerful movement. At the peak of his success his followers started to follow a different spiritual leader. John's followers expressed this deep concern to John. His response, both humble and profound, "man can only receive what's been given to him from heaven" was both simple and profound. This truth is saving grace.
I know I'm to commit to the life in front me. I am not called to or responsible for anyone else's more. I'm called take what I have received in this life and doing something with it. Regardless of the high capacity and high impact of those around me, I am reminded today, that I can only receive what's been given to me from above. I'm not to handle more, and I'm not responsible for anything less. I have what I need and I have enough. Today I am committed to taking the incredible grace and resources I've been given and make something good of it.
John tells his followers that he must become less, so that Jesus can become more. When I endlessly pursue more from a place of not enough I make it all about me. When I just receive from above, it's all about God's creative and good movement in the world. I must become less, so He can become more.
The anxiety of more has a profound way of being driven by not enough. Not enough is always looking for an excuse to prove its own point. It often does this by comparing to the more of others while highlighting the not enough of me. So, driven to be enough, I strategize, stretch, listen to podcasts, read books, get advice and obsess about how to get and be more. I can aimlessly scurry around chasing an arbitrary standard of more. Ironically, I'm not even sure what more actually is or what it looks like. More is always changing. Much like not enough is always looking for an excuse, more is always look for... more. Sounds crazy? IT IS!
One of the problems I encounter is I'm surrounded by high capacity friends who are constantly doing more and being a part of more. I want what they have. I believe I can have what they have and be a part of the more. This creates an utterly unholy discontent for where I am and what I'm a part of.
As this season has shown me, I have many different ailments of the curse of more. And, of course, it is born out of a belief of not enough. The spiritual leader known as John the Baptist was gaining incredible popularity and notoriety as a the leader of a powerful movement. At the peak of his success his followers started to follow a different spiritual leader. John's followers expressed this deep concern to John. His response, both humble and profound, "man can only receive what's been given to him from heaven" was both simple and profound. This truth is saving grace.
I know I'm to commit to the life in front me. I am not called to or responsible for anyone else's more. I'm called take what I have received in this life and doing something with it. Regardless of the high capacity and high impact of those around me, I am reminded today, that I can only receive what's been given to me from above. I'm not to handle more, and I'm not responsible for anything less. I have what I need and I have enough. Today I am committed to taking the incredible grace and resources I've been given and make something good of it.
John tells his followers that he must become less, so that Jesus can become more. When I endlessly pursue more from a place of not enough I make it all about me. When I just receive from above, it's all about God's creative and good movement in the world. I must become less, so He can become more.
Lent Day 27 - Pain Beyond Expertise
Today was a tough day in the office. Again, as a therapist I'm invited into the most intimate and painful places of people's experiences. Some of the experiences far exceed my own which can create a fear of inadequacy in my ability to guide well. It is a very difficult place for me to know I'm in-over-my-head as a professional. One of those experiences is the deep pain of grief due to the unexpected loss of a loved one, especially the loss of a child. There has been loses in my life, but not one of them has been incredibly close or incredibly unexpected. I certainly can't even bear to think of losing my wife or one of my boys. It is a taboo thought and even worse to mention.
In my work, I have had the opportunity and privilege to guide people through the grief and loss process. Yet, there is a gnawing doubt inside of me as I guide the process knowing that those I work with are journeying a painful country I've never been to. Today was one of those days. I sat with an unspeakably broken-hearted soul who lost a child. I sat and cried alongside and mostly just listened with the best empathy and care I could muster. I had no expertise advice or personal experience to draw upon. I just had a listening ear, tuned into the excruciating pain.
Today, the pain showed up as intense and understandable anger over the loss. There was no present comfort to be found. To try to rescue or explain the anger only seemed trivial and disrespectful. The anger was honest, real and powerful, so I simply gave permission for it. Eventually, I asked her, "In the midst of what your experiencing today, what do you know, that you know?" She replied, "I know that eventually I will be fine." I followed up with, "how do you know that?" She quickly replied, "I know that it will work out in the end because we will be together again." She was deeply hurting, incredibly angry and solidly hopeful.
Today, I will not take for granted that I know, that I know that life lives on after this life. There is an ultimate reality that extends far beyond the baffling pain of this life.There is a life that ends all death and Jesus shows the way. We all know that there is an inevitable death. My faith rests upon an inevitable life that extends beyond death. This is no small belief. This is hope itself. The resurrection of Jesus is a reality that defines all other realities. If it is not true, I join the Apostle Paul in declaring that, "we are to be pitied more than all men." As I believe that it is true, as the powerful people who have journeyed deeply painful loss before me have shown, I need to be continually reminded that death is not final chapter, resurrection is.
Today was a tough day in the office. Again, as a therapist I'm invited into the most intimate and painful places of people's experiences. Some of the experiences far exceed my own which can create a fear of inadequacy in my ability to guide well. It is a very difficult place for me to know I'm in-over-my-head as a professional. One of those experiences is the deep pain of grief due to the unexpected loss of a loved one, especially the loss of a child. There has been loses in my life, but not one of them has been incredibly close or incredibly unexpected. I certainly can't even bear to think of losing my wife or one of my boys. It is a taboo thought and even worse to mention.
In my work, I have had the opportunity and privilege to guide people through the grief and loss process. Yet, there is a gnawing doubt inside of me as I guide the process knowing that those I work with are journeying a painful country I've never been to. Today was one of those days. I sat with an unspeakably broken-hearted soul who lost a child. I sat and cried alongside and mostly just listened with the best empathy and care I could muster. I had no expertise advice or personal experience to draw upon. I just had a listening ear, tuned into the excruciating pain.
Today, the pain showed up as intense and understandable anger over the loss. There was no present comfort to be found. To try to rescue or explain the anger only seemed trivial and disrespectful. The anger was honest, real and powerful, so I simply gave permission for it. Eventually, I asked her, "In the midst of what your experiencing today, what do you know, that you know?" She replied, "I know that eventually I will be fine." I followed up with, "how do you know that?" She quickly replied, "I know that it will work out in the end because we will be together again." She was deeply hurting, incredibly angry and solidly hopeful.
Today, I will not take for granted that I know, that I know that life lives on after this life. There is an ultimate reality that extends far beyond the baffling pain of this life.There is a life that ends all death and Jesus shows the way. We all know that there is an inevitable death. My faith rests upon an inevitable life that extends beyond death. This is no small belief. This is hope itself. The resurrection of Jesus is a reality that defines all other realities. If it is not true, I join the Apostle Paul in declaring that, "we are to be pitied more than all men." As I believe that it is true, as the powerful people who have journeyed deeply painful loss before me have shown, I need to be continually reminded that death is not final chapter, resurrection is.
Monday, April 3, 2017
Lent Day 26 - Love is No Disability
This is Autism awareness week. People are bringing awareness to Autism by wearing blue. I unintentionally show support since blue is my favorite color. There are a couple of families in our life that have an Autistic child. These families have been a significant part of our lives. They have experienced some unimaginable challenges as a result of the condition of their child. Life for these families can be both subtly and profoundly different and difficult. There is not a day that goes by when the condition doesn't determine a response. Most would say that these families, and the millions who live with this condition, have to daily confront a disability.
Certainly these families have to deal with a reality much different than I do. However, I would hardly call it a disability. These families have a way of life marked with great compassion, superhero-like patience, persevering service and sacrifice, and incredibly resilient love. They are both contagiously grateful and unflinchingly generous. They are families of deep faith. The last thing I would consider them to be is disabled. It is their challenges and the incredible love they have for their Autistic child that has helped them shape a life of remarkable and rare character. If we could all only be so lucky. Again, please do not get me wrong here. I have sat and listened to the heart-wrenching challenges and seemingly endless struggles. They are real and not to be taken lightly or even slightly dismissed. Yet, it is because they have worked tirelessly to love in the midst of these challenges and struggles that they have formed a God-shaped life.
I also know that I walk around with some fairly profound personal and spiritual disabilities. Because I can hide them so well with me perceived strengths, I suffer greatly. I can hide my needs and my profound limitation from the world and those around me. As a result, I suffer more and those around cannot experience more growth in love and life because I hide my needs. My Autistic friends cannot hide their needs. Their needs and limitations are much more obvious. Yet, their strength is their need. They have overcome some unbelievable odds and obstacles. They make the people around them better. They live inspiring lives. The irony is their limitations and needs create the perfect conditions for love and life to flourish.
Paul tells a story in II Corinthians 12 about having a painful disability and need. He prays and begs for it to go away. He said that Jesus answered his prayer. "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Paul goes on to say that he ends up boasting in his weakness because of the amazing God-life it produces. Oh, to stop relying on my strengths and gifting, to stop using my "togetherness" as a shield against the love of others! Today, I will own my disabilities as a pathway to greater love and the greater God-life. Love is no disability!
This is Autism awareness week. People are bringing awareness to Autism by wearing blue. I unintentionally show support since blue is my favorite color. There are a couple of families in our life that have an Autistic child. These families have been a significant part of our lives. They have experienced some unimaginable challenges as a result of the condition of their child. Life for these families can be both subtly and profoundly different and difficult. There is not a day that goes by when the condition doesn't determine a response. Most would say that these families, and the millions who live with this condition, have to daily confront a disability.
Certainly these families have to deal with a reality much different than I do. However, I would hardly call it a disability. These families have a way of life marked with great compassion, superhero-like patience, persevering service and sacrifice, and incredibly resilient love. They are both contagiously grateful and unflinchingly generous. They are families of deep faith. The last thing I would consider them to be is disabled. It is their challenges and the incredible love they have for their Autistic child that has helped them shape a life of remarkable and rare character. If we could all only be so lucky. Again, please do not get me wrong here. I have sat and listened to the heart-wrenching challenges and seemingly endless struggles. They are real and not to be taken lightly or even slightly dismissed. Yet, it is because they have worked tirelessly to love in the midst of these challenges and struggles that they have formed a God-shaped life.
I also know that I walk around with some fairly profound personal and spiritual disabilities. Because I can hide them so well with me perceived strengths, I suffer greatly. I can hide my needs and my profound limitation from the world and those around me. As a result, I suffer more and those around cannot experience more growth in love and life because I hide my needs. My Autistic friends cannot hide their needs. Their needs and limitations are much more obvious. Yet, their strength is their need. They have overcome some unbelievable odds and obstacles. They make the people around them better. They live inspiring lives. The irony is their limitations and needs create the perfect conditions for love and life to flourish.
Paul tells a story in II Corinthians 12 about having a painful disability and need. He prays and begs for it to go away. He said that Jesus answered his prayer. "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Paul goes on to say that he ends up boasting in his weakness because of the amazing God-life it produces. Oh, to stop relying on my strengths and gifting, to stop using my "togetherness" as a shield against the love of others! Today, I will own my disabilities as a pathway to greater love and the greater God-life. Love is no disability!
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