Check out the Myrtle spurge beautifying an Easter dinner napkin

It looked harmless enough. In fact, if truth be told, it was beautifying. Sitting ever so delicately on our Easter lunch place mats were little flowers from a Myrtle spurge.

Myrtle spurge doesn’t sound so bad. But try “creeping spurge” or “donkey tail”. When you find out the real names of these flowers, you probably wouldn’t invite them to your celebration of Jesus’ resurrection either. But that’s exactly what we did–and we soon learned a valuable lesson.

A few days after Easter, our daughter Julia toddled into the garden bed near our house and slathered her legs in the Myrtle spurge’s milky sap. It wasn’t long before we were headed to the doctor’s office to figure out what caused a rash outbreak all over her legs. The doctors assured us she would be fine and said it was probably some plant she was allergic to. But Julia’s legs weren’t nearly as dismissive.

My wife Janel played her hunch on which plant she thought wreaked all this havoc, taking a piece of it down to our local county extension office to find out the truth. And she was right: Myrtle spurge was the culprit. (She then elicited a few guffaws from the county extension agents when she revealed she used the plant for her Easter decorations.)

Upon deeper reflection, I wonder how much “Myrtle spurge” is surrounding my heart, just waiting for a moment to get inside and begin to undo me. These noxious weeds of the soul weave their way in through pretty lies–and I fall prey to their beauty. I want to believe what they’re peddling, even though I know it to be in contrast to God’s Word. And then before I know it, I’ve got an infection–a nasty rash that is breaking out and causing severe pain.

When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; but each one is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.  Don’t be deceived, my dear brothers. – James 1:13-16 (NIV)

We must always remain on guard against such temptations veiled in beauty. Sin always looks luscious for a moment but it won’t be long before it’s rotting you from the inside out.

It’s called temptation for a reason–it’s tempting. I’m easily tempted by a plate of piping hot brownies; not so much by day-old refrigerated egg plant casserole. If we recognized sin for what it truly was–a nasty plate of rottenness–we could easily turn it down. That’s why Jesus was able to withstanding temptation from the enemy: He knew what was beneath the surface and what it would do to Him.

Let us walk in that knowledge today, refusing to see how things appear in the flesh and taking the time to ponder an important question: Is this temptation a creeping spurge of sin about to derail me from God’s best for my life? When we analyze things in such light, it’s easier to stay focused on the path God has laid out for us.

While most of us will probably never reach Michael Jackson’s iconic status, we do wonder about what’s going to be said about us at the end of our lives. But sometimes, that can distract us from what our focus should be. We must ask ourselves if we are we trying to build a legacy or nurture authentic relationships, the kind of relationships that make an impact on others long after they are gone?

I once had a conversation with a friend who told me that he was concerned about the legacy he was leaving behind. However, the reason he admitted he was ultimately concerned with his legacy was because many of his relationships were deteriorating. However, my friend is not alone. Many people focus on what they’re going to leave behind as opposed to fostering deep and meaningful relationships. But is that what we’re called to do as followers of Jesus?

Jesus knew what His legacy would be if He remained obedient to the call on His life. But it wasn’t about that for Jesus. It was about being present with people whenever He came face to face with others. Instead of seeing His life as a mission of get in, get on and get out, Jesus nurtured relationships with depth, relationships that resulted in a group of followers giving their very lives to see Jesus’ teaching and message advanced throughout the world.

Love ruled Jesus’ relationships—not favor or affirmation or works:

[Jesus said]: “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father’s commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” – John 15:9-13

We, too, must let love rule our relationships. All the personal empires that we try to build are eventually just as shattered and broken as we are if we don’t allow the love of Christ to penetrate our hearts in such a way that we truly begin to love others, especially those we’re in relationship with.

Act. Take time to call a few friends for no other purpose than to find out how they’re doing by asking them questions about their lives.

Pray. Father, help me to have a heart like Christ when it comes to relationships with others. Give me a heart of love for others. Amen.

One recent afternoon I could see the question beginning to form in Faith’s mind as her eyes fell fixated on the pens atop the desk in my newly organized office. And I knew what she was thinking: “Neon pink and yellow pens? I want them!” As the question began rolling off her tongue, I was reaching for them and showing her what a highlighter was. She proceeded to ignore my explanation about how they mark important things and expressed herself as artistically as any toddler can.

Moments later, Faith and I were off on an errand … with her picture in tow. Our quick trip to Staples to grab a few supplies turned into an opportunity for my vociferous daughter to explain to the cashier the intricacies of shading and color palates in her freshly minted masterpiece. The cashier, a grandmotherly type who undoubtedly had engaged in this type of conversation in the past, showed a keen interest in what Faith had to say, which was the only excuse Faith needed to continue practice her ever-growing vocabulary with stories about baby strollers and pretend kitchen dinners. Faith was determined to share everything new and exciting about life that she could communicate to the cashier as long as she would listen.

“I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” – Matthew 18:3-4

There’s nothing like watching a little child to remind you just how mundane adulthood can be. Life was like this endless rollercoaster of good and better, sandwiched between a few spankings for insatiable curiosity about what would happen if you put a stick up your sister’s nose or cut your brother’s hair. But somewhere along the way, we grow up and become aware of the burden of responsibility and less aware of the joy of childhood.

While I can never return to being a little child, Jesus’ words serve as a stark reminder that I must not let the child-like element of my faith disappear to time’s endless marching beat.

In The Ragamuffin Gospel, Brennan Manning explains what happens when we stray for the child-like faith we once had:

“When our inner child is not nurtured and nourished, our minds gradually close to new ideas, unprofitable commitments, and the surprises of the Spirit. Evangelical faith is bartered for cozy, comfortable piety. A failure of nerve and an unwillingness to risk distorts God into a Bookkeeper, and a gospel of grace is swapped for the security of religious bondage. … Heaven will be filled with five-year-olds.”

Whatever the cost, I must stunt my faith’s growth and drink coffee’s spiritual equivalent. I want my faith to be great, but I want it to come in a small child-like package.

Think. Has your faith grown up or do you still remain child-like in your approach to God? If you’ve departed from your once child-like faith, how can you return?

Pray. Father, thank You so much for the way You love us. Help me to grow in You as I remain child-like in the way I approach Your throne.

If only life were that easy to fix. The truth of the matter is that we make life complicated through our choices—or life becomes complicated due to the choices (and oftentimes dysfunction) of others. Sometimes, I feel like Annie and just want to throw in the towel. But like Annie, I can’t just check out.

Life may never get easy for us, but we have to keep pressing forward. Recently while visiting with one of my friends, she shared about how her life may never be one that’s settled in the traditional sense—and that’s OK because that’s the life God has called her to. And even if our lives seem settled, they never really are. The unexpected should be expected. We have no idea what challenges await us around the next bend.

The apostle Paul lived this life of uncertainty, never being settled. It was all for the sake of advancing the Kingdom of God through dealing difficulty as if it was to be expected.

Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger; in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love; in truthful speech and in the power of God; with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left; through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report; genuine, yet regarded as impostors; known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything. – 2 Corinthians 6:4-10

Paul obviously wasn’t concerned with trying to make being a follow of Christ seem better than it was. If anything, he was into underselling it rather than overselling it. His ability to adroitly present the reality of following Christ is tightly summed up in this passage. And it’s truth cannot be understated.

Life just keeps coming at you—and there’s no time to take a break and regroup. Instead of wishing for some day when things are different, we must embrace Paul’s attitude and realize that we can address the harsh realities of life while still enjoying life itself. For every trial and tribulation, there are corresponding periods of transformation and blessing. Without each other, our faith would flatline and never lead us to the place God wants us to be.

This spirit of discontent sometimes boils over into my faith, resulting in me uttering this harrowing phrase: “If I were God …” Thank God, I am not. I tend to lean more heavily on the rod of discipline than on the garland of grace.

Though I understand a loving God must be just, I forget that justice has both already come and not yet been administered. This time warp messes with my “God of the now” strongly influenced by the “gotta have it now” American culture. And it sometimes leads me to think I can do a better job of handling the delivery of justice on a broken and fallen world than God does.

When we see injustice in the world, our hearts demand that justice be administered. The scales of justice seem unfairly imbalanced, and they needed to be trued. However, we forget how grace adjusts those scales and how God’s justice is not the same as our own. Though God uses his people to bring justice for the voiceless and helpless, what this looks like is often entirely different than what we think. Standing up for justice can sometimes be raw and requires getting in squalor with those who need help. But at other times, it’s being a harbinger of grace, demonstrating love to those who from a human perspective deserve it the least.

Too often our idea of grace is skewed by the way we try to make God in our image instead of trying to conform to his. In our utter arrogance, we believe we deserve grace because we’re good; but the fact remains that grace cannot be earned any more than love can be demanded.

The apostle Paul illustrates this point in his letter to the Galatians:

You who are trying to be justified by law have been alienated from Christ; you have fallen away from grace. But by faith we eagerly await through the Spirit the righteousness for which we hope. For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision has any value. The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love. – Galatians 5:4-6

A God made in my image only doles out “grace” to those who deserve it; the real God delivers grace freely and radically. It’s scandalous and disturbs our sensibility. But God isn’t interested in a popularity contest—he’s interested in an unbridled relationship and demonstrating just how deep his love for us runs. His mercy triumphs over justice—something I must remember as I seek godly justice in a broken world.

Act. Discuss with those you know about the balance of justice and grace from a godly perspective. Think about what that balance looks like in your own life and how it also looks in the way you interact with others.

Pray. Father, help me to live a life full of grace, one that extends it freely to others. Show me grace and teach me about Your justice.

When it comes to abdicating responsibility, there is one phrase that makes my skin crawl: “I’m only human.” I just think, Oh, well, in that case, why should I ever expect anything extraordinary out of you. Obviously, being human to you means being ordinary and living with the expectation of failure.

In my efforts to follow Jesus, I know I don’t always get it right. In fact, I get it wrong quite often. But the “human” excuse falls flat as a Christian. When I try to do things on my own power, I can expect to fail. The life Christ calls us to live cannot be lived on our own strength. And that’s the beauty of truly following Jesus—we can’t lose sight of Him lest we fall … and fall hard.

“I can do everything through him who gives me strength.” – Philippians 4:13

Jesus does not call us to the impossible—He calls us to the extraordinary through His strength. But the extraordinary looks impossible when we’re trying to do it on our own strength. Why would we look to our own source of power when we know it’s insufficient? Pride? Ego?

The real disappointment comes when we fail to live the way Jesus calls us to live and we dismiss our shortcoming because “we’re only human.” If we’re determined to live in such a cycle of raised expectations to “human” failure, why are we “following” Jesus at all? What difference is the presence of the Holy Spirit making in our lives?

Oswald Chambers addresses this question as well quite poignantly:

“For you to say, ‘Oh, I’m no saint,’ is acceptable by human standards of pride, but it is unconscious blasphemy against God. You defy God to make you a saint, as if to say, ‘I am too weak and hopeless and outside the reach of the atonement by the Cross of Christ.’ Why aren’t you a saint? It is either that you do not want to be a saint, or that you do not believe that God can make you into one.”

The real question we must answer is this: What are we going to do with ourselves? Are we going to continue dismissing our shortcomings as merely the result of us being only human? Or are we going to allow the Holy Spirit to continue the transformation process in our hearts to the point that those shortcomings and failures become less frequent—and happen without excuse?

When our lives fall short of what God wants for us, the reason is simple: We have turned to our own power and neglected to rely upon God. The sooner we stop making excuses, the sooner we can begin experiencing more life-changing transformation.

Act. Think about areas of your life that seem to be a constant struggle for you. Make a list of the opposite character traits from those sins and struggles and ask God to give you that kind of heart.

Pray. Father, I need You. Help me to walk in the power of Your Holy Spirit for my life today and not in my own strength.

But rules do not replace relationship.

When it comes to following Jesus, rules tend to distort our reality. For example, I might feel like my relationship with Jesus is great because I’m keeping all the rules. However, the truth of the matter may be that I haven’t spoken with Him in a week and have no idea where He wants me to go or what He wants me to do. Opportunities to see the Kingdom of God personified may be vanishing in a quagmire of rules.

“Then he said to them all, ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it.’” – Luke 9: 23-25

Following Jesus isn’t rocket science, brain surgery or balancing the U.S. government’s budget—but it is relational and it demands a certain level of commitment to pursuing Him. Passively following Jesus is a man waiting on a bench for a bus that isn’t coming. If I’m not close enough to hear what He is saying, how will I ever know where He wants me to go next?

God gave His people laws because they didn’t have Jesus. We have Jesus—and the bar has been raised. If we’re following Jesus, we won’t be breaking any rules set up by God because Jesus doesn’t lead people down those treacherous trails. But those rules aren’t personified. They are a poor replacement for sitting with Jesus and hearing what it is that He has next for us on this incredible journey of faith.

If I am going to become more Christ-like, I need to spend time with the object of my imitation, which begs this important question: Do I want to look like a rule-keeper or Jesus?

Act. Throughout the day, write down how often you think of praying (and actually do it) versus how many times you think of rules. What is driving your thinking in both of those areas.

Pray. Father, help me to value relationship with You over rules through the way I live my life. Give me the discipline to create more time with You so that my relationship with You will be deeper.

While I think most of us can relate to a similar tension in our lives, there are moments when that mental philosophy becomes a reality that goes too far. We want justice for that person, not mercy.

This past weekend while playing in a soccer team against a team that was severely sportsmanship challenged, I was faced with this tension. These guys played dirty—a knee in your thigh here, an “unintentional” swing and a miss at your ankle there. I honestly can’t believe my shorts didn’t get yanked down at some point.

During the tournament, we played this certain team twice. In our first meeting, they played so dirty that some of our players were in serious danger of getting hurt. That’s why in our second meeting for the championship, my heart didn’t exactly go out to one of the worst perpetrators on the other team when he went down with an injury. Serves him right, I thought.

As I later reflected on my thoughts and feelings, I realized just how misaligned my heart was with Christ’s. Sure, God is just, but He’s also merciful. And at that moment, it was all about justice, choosing to ignore the fact that the poor guy wrenched his knee and would probably be in rehab for the next nine months on a play where he actually wasn’t playing dirty. I didn’t want mercy; I wanted retribution.

What was really going on here?

So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God’s law, but in the sinful nature a slave to the law of sin. – Romans 7:21-25

Though I wanted to have compassion on the guy, I didn’t allow Christ in me to emerge. Instead, it was much more comfortable for me to remain in a place where I wanted to see him get what he “deserved.” But what was the right heart for me to have in that situation?

We need to respond to Jesus, not react to the world. Unfortunately, in this situation, I decided it was easier to react. I thought the guy was a punk and if his injury forced him to take nine months off from playing soccer, opposing teams’ knees and ankles would be the wondrous beneficiaries. But that’s sinful nature, not the heart of Christ.

My desire is to see God’s transform my heart to the point that my second nature is a Christ-like nature. I want to have a healthy (godly) balance of mercy and justice. God is slow to anger and rich in love—I want to be, too.

Act. Think about some situations where you react to the world instead of respond to Jesus. Ask a friend to pray for you to do more responding to Jesus rather than reacting.

Pray. Father, thank You for Your mercy in my life. Help me to respond to You and not react to the world around me.

Cheri poses after graduating to get her GED.

I don’t know if there’s anything more beautiful to me than a life redeemed—a purpose restored to a person who has reversed the drive to live for him or herself and turned that into love for God … and others.

When I meet these people in the aftermath of their redemption process, I can’t help but be amazed at the deep work of God in their lives. It’s not that they’re suddenly a Bible-toting goody two shoes; in fact, far from it in many cases. But it’s just hard to image how God captured their heart from a place that seemed so far gone. Cheri is one such person.

Cheri works on our church’s janitorial staff, cleaning up after people and polishing up our facility. Yet, the work she does is nothing compared to the work God has done in and through her. And the work God is still doing. And the work she’s cheerfully joined.

Last night, at the age of 40-something (I won’t rat out her age), Cheri finally got her GED in a graduation ceremony at Boise State. Moving from meth to math wasn’t easy for her, but she did it. Now, it might not seem like a big deal to many people, but to a gal who started skipping school in the third grade to smoke before traveling down a road of destruction and near death, this was a significant moment.

Cheri was a regular in local bars by age 14, hung out with rough Harley bike riders, and was an accomplished cook … of meth. With no father figure in her life and a mother who died when she was 2, Cheri wasn’t exactly set up to succeed. She admits that her grandmother did a great job of doing what she could to raise her, but Cheri’s rebellious spirit was too much for her grandmother to handle. Yet, Cheri wasn’t destined to that way of living forever.

The Apostle Paul explains God’s redemptive nature:

For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men. It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope—the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good. – Titus 2:11-14 (emphasis mine)

Eager to do what is good. That would explain Cheri’s life now. It’s been well over three years since she last partook of any mind-altering substance, so it’s clear that the work in Cheri’s life is real. “I just look at my life and I know that this is God,” she told me. “There’s no way this could have happened without Him.”

It’s never too late to start doing the right thing—and Cheri is living proof. Now that she earned her GED (something she had to do or suffer the consequences under a court mandated order), she’s looking forward to tackling a four-year degree so she can be a drug and addiction counselor. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’ll be great at it, too, all the while pointing those she counsels to awesome One who brought grace and redemption to her life.

Act. Think about the “good” things you are doing in your life. Consider how your story of redemption is being carried on through the way that you’re now serving God.

Pray. Father, thank You for your redemptive work in my life—both now and in the past. Continue to work in me so that I may glorify You.

I recently heard a pastor share one of his biggest mistakes in his early ministry regarding money that illustrates this point. Before asking the ushers to pass the collection plate, this pastor proclaimed, “The Bible says that God loves a cheerful giver. So, if you’re not cheerful about giving this morning, don’t give.” The inference that God loathes an uncheerful giver is where his train went off track. And it resulted in such a low offering that his senior pastor called him in for a discussion about appropriate ways to discuss money and offerings in church.

The Apostle Paul writes this famous passage in Galatians:

“The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things. And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. If we live by the Spirit, let us also be guided by the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, competing against one another, envying one another.” — Galatians 5:22-26

Earlier this week, I was confronted with the reality of the fruit in my life. Fruit is not something we have to work for — it is what blossoms and blooms as a result of tending to the issues deep beneath the surface. And “fruit” can be deceiving.

So, there I was standing in line behind the slowest Redbox patron on the planet. I’ve always viewed the Redbox DVD vending machine as something like a softdrink vending machine. You usually have a good idea of what you want before you get there and the only reason for pause is due to your favorite drink being out. Some people have written about Redbox ettiquette, but it’s still up for debate. However, the guy I was standing behind this week took the perspective that a trip to Redbox was like a trip to Blockbuster — take your time to browse and read every available title before choosing the one you originally came to rent.

I politely and “patiently” awaited my turn. Finally after 15 minutes — 15 minutes! — he selected the movie he first put in his checkout cart and nothing else. Then he turns to me as the DVD is being vended and says, “Thanks for being so patient.”

Little did he know, I was acting like a two year old throwing a temper tantrum on the inside. And his words were cutting. Was I really patient? Or did I merely appear patient?

When I shared this story with my wife, she told me that it was better to act patient than impatient. It momentarily relieved my guilt but underscored the fact that I have a long way to go in being shaped into the person God wants me to be.

There are still things in my life that aren’t exactly fruit but merely behavior modifications. I want God to do His deep work in my life, the kind of work that when the next time I’m stuck behind Indecisive Ivan at the Redbox machine and he tells me, “Thanks for being patient”, I can thank God that what’s happening on the inside matches what people see on the outside.

Act. Think about what fruits of the Spirit aren’t exactly fruit in your life. Ask a friend to alert you when they see the opposite of these fruits being acted out in your life.

Pray. Father, thank You for the way You desire to mold and shape me more into Your image. Do your deep work in my life that results not only my behavior but also my heart. Amen.