Keep On Truckin

My truck got sick.

Really sick.

For those of you who do not know (and welcome, stranger) I have a unique, and possibly unhealthy, affection for my truck. In a season of my life where I've lost so many things that I used to help identify myself, my truck has been the one consistent material possession that always somehow made me feel a bit more like myself. It helped me get places I wanted to go, with the stuff that I wanted to have there, and did it, I might add, with style.

It's a great looking truck.

It has AC.

My boys fit.

It's carried people I love.

It's allowed me opportunities to help.

I think it's looking at me through the window of the coffee shop as I write this...I think.

Anyway, the point is, my truck, which I love, got sick.

I thought at first it was bad gas. I know, that sounds like I'm making a joke, but things started acting up after I opted for some discount fuel. I hoped that a good refill would get it back to normal, but things just seemed to get worse. It was coughing and misfiring something terrible. I thought it might be a clog in the fuel line from the aforementioned bad gas, but it happened irregularly. I did all of the things I knew how to do. Just the basics: new plugs, wires, and a new distributor. All needed to be changed and I hoped for the best. The engine ran great...but still had the same issue.  All that I could do was to take it to a friend who owed a shop who gave me the exciting news that my o2 censor had gone bad. Yes, that's good news considering what it could be. He changed out the o2 censor and all the wiring leading to the engine's computer.

It was still sick.

I drove it to work with all of the potential options in my brain of what to do next. A lot of money has been spent. There is very little left to work with.

I should pause here to make note of something. I am a man of faith and totally believe that God is present and able to do amazing things. But I also believe that I am responsible and have been given great tools to do things I need to do. For most of my decisions in life I have by hands firmly grasped around my own bootstraps.

This time, and there have been many times like this, my bootstraps are just out of my reach.

I got in my truck after my shift was done, knowing there was a long ride back and considered what this journey might entail when I felt my heart say: "Ask God to heal your truck."

Is this worth another pause? Maybe, just so you don't think I'm crazy. Is God in the business of healing machines? I know he heals bodies and hearts and minds and souls, but Dodge Dakotas? I can't really tell you how healing works to say for sure, but it seemed more foolish to not ask.

The truck worked.

All the way home.

And all night long.

I considered the concept of God faith healing my truck and the concept of faith in general.

Asking for things takes an extraordinary amount of faith...or use trust to make it less religious sounding. The sheer act of asking requires that I believe that I think someone is both able and willing to walk into my need.

Faith is the act of believing that once you have asked, your healing is coming.

I'm suspicions of faith healers and anyone that seems to treat God like some kind of butler. They give God their praise based on his performance. I've always felt like God is Who He Is regardless of His participation in the mess I've made of things.

But I digress.

I think God healed my truck.

Now, ask me if there has been any coughs of sputters.

Go ahead...ask.

Yes.

It still made me think about faith. I'm driving as if God has answered my prayer. The coughs are less frequent and the ride is stronger.  Maybe healing is coming slowly.

Healing is like that.

I have a friend recovering from knee surgery.  Surgery is done.  The knee is fixed.  However, look at the walking and you question the healing.

Maybe broken trucks are like that.

Maybe broken hearts are too.

All I know is, that I have a promise that as I walk, or drive, that I will have what I need to continue down the road. I'll get to my destination. I've got a truck full of broken bootstraps and angel feathers to prove that He heals.

Trust Fall

Have you ever done a trust fall? I did about 70 of them yesterday. I'm the "storyteller" at a church Vacation Bible School this week, meaning that I am the one responsible to tell the story of Jesus that is being reinforced by crafts, games, skits, and music all week long. It seems to me that I've always been a story teller for Him. I love to tell His story and, over the course of my years, people have told me that I do it in a way that helps them connect to the man who lives as the cornerstone of my life. Yesterday, the story was intended to project the theme of trust. "Why can I trust Jesus" was the question of the day and a story of a man who trusted Jesus to heal his son was used as the evidence of an affirmative answer.

I used trust falls to illustrate it.

Kids falling backwards into the arms of a teacher or helper.

Someone bigger

Someone they think they can trust.

Trust.

Hmmm.

It's quite a thing to turn around, spread your arms wide, close your eyes, and just fall backward...trusting that there are arms to catch you.  Trust requires that two truths work in concert at the same moment in time: Love and Power.

See...love alone (crazy as this sounds) simply isn't enough for me to put my trust in someone. Love is not all I need (with apologies) when it comes to where I let myself fall. Love alone doesn't carry with it any sort of ability or strength. Love is an orientation toward the good of another...and is key, but not solitary.

Power can often be mistaken as well. Power is attractive because it communicates ability. Fast cars, fit frame, an extraordinary skill, or visible financial strength certainly communicates a power to move through the world at a different pace, but as love alone doesn't provide a safe place, neither does power alone. A malevolent dictator has all the power possible, but cannot be trusted any more than a kind King who lacks the courage to protect his people is worthy of his title.

When Power and Love live in the same heart - now you've got something, mister.

I'll admit it...or at least I'm starting to admit it...I struggle with Trust. I would describe myself as an "up by my bootstraps" kind of guy. In many ways, my fiercely independent spirit has served me well. I've gained an ability to navigate my world and build things that simply was not there before I arrived.  However, I am also aware that this independence also has protection within it's DNA. I've been injured. Trust, or faith, as a result, is not something that comes easy for me. This past season has seen that ability driven further and further below the surface of this man as I am working to heal from trusts that have been broken. I find myself cautious in relationships that I truly love, simply because I'm afraid to rest in them. I'm a man who has been hurt...and I don't want to fall again.

Of course, during our trust fall experiment, there were kids who could fall, many who would stumble backwards and fall with caution, and a few who were too afraid to try. I suppose that is a lot like who we are as a species. I know that at this point in my life there will be no falling without fear. I can do brave, but fearless is simply unwise. My heart longs for love and community too much to simply not try. I've hit the floor many times, but somewhere in my heart I know that being human is allowing yourself to be caught.

No kid fell blindly. Every kid made their choice with the evidence that was in front of them. They knew enough about the people doing the catching that freed them to risk. That's all we can do.  Like a breadcrumb trail leading us home, are path is one of walking through the dark and scary forest because we know that love is on the other side. We listen as we walk, picking up clues to find those worthy arms.

We look for Power...but not just

We look for Love...but not just.

We look for hearts that have demonstrated their ability to catch us time an time again. We might stumble into the fall...but letting ourselves be caught is the only way we will truly know what it means to be human.

My arms are out...I'm closing my eyes...I'm ready to fall again.

Plan B

When I began this week, I had a plan and that plan included a green 1999 Dodge Dakota. On Tuesday afternoon, that plan changed as I heard the snapping of my transmission and had to coast to the side of the road 1/4 mile from my home. 1/4 mile that was walkable, but still required a $75 tow (money that I had budgeted for another plan). My truck is in the transmission shop now, I'm grounded and dependent on rides, and not sure I will have the money I thought I would to get the repairs done.

Time for plan B

I've been thinking about the concept of plan B since a friend brought it to me a couple weeks ago. In the circles in which I run (I'm a pastor by trade) there is always talk of ideals. The world should be more loving, kind, and just because that is what God intended. No one would argue that the world has some jumping to do to get over the bar, but our fights come when our concept of ideal starts to stretch out to how people live their lives. Issues of divorce, remarriage, sexuality, etc enter into the dialogue; causing division in our own Christian faith and in the culture in which we live.

John Lennon said "life is what happens to you when are busy making other plans". I feel this phrase reflects the heart of God. Any good parent has a picture of what is desired for a child. One works hard at creating a world where those plans can be nurtured and grow. I would add that any good parent also gives room for a child to make decisions...or even mistakes. Sometimes those choices set the child on a course that the original plan just doesn't fit.

Time for plan B

Plan B isn't a lesser plan, it's just a different plan. Maybe Plan A was less complicated or easier, but it didn't work. See, life isn't about what the plan looks like, it's the goal. Are we getting where we want to go? Are we loving? Are we moving toward justice?

Plan A was tried. It didn't fit. It didn't reflect our heart. It didn't honor who we were made to be.

Plan B is all about it.

Jesus is a Plan B. No one needs a savior if Plan A is working.

I'm all about Plan B.

I'll let you know what happens to the truck.