Why me Lord? I suspect that most of us have cried out to God with that question. I would also guess that approximately ninety-nine percent of the time we are asking God why some trial has come our way that we feel is undeserved. The same question has been asked throughout history. “Why me Lord? Why me?” A song by Kris Kristofferson cycled up on on my satellite radio today and reminded me of a better perspective. I have loved Kristofferson’s song “Why Me?” since I was a young believer and, if you do the math, you realize that I am not so young a believer anymore. The truth is I am still trying to apply the wisdom of these lyrics. Why me Lord, what have I ever doneTo deserve even oneOf the pleasures I’ve knownTell me Lord, what did I ever doneThat was worth loving youOr the kindness you’ve shown So true. What have I done to deserve even one of His blessings? I
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I have written tributes over the years to men and women who have significantly influenced my spiritual journey. Too often those tributes come after those inspiring followers of Jesus went home to Heaven. I have another spiritual hero who will soon be united with Jesus. My friend and my pastor Jeff Denton is near the end of his cancer journey. I wanted to write this while he is still able to hear what his testimony has meant to me because too often we save those words for memorial services. Waterbrook Bible Fellowship Lead Pastor Jeff Denton has been one of the most amazing leaders I have ever had the opportunity to serve under. His skill set would make me jealous if he wasn’t such a kind and grace filled friend. Jeff is a talented preacher, visionary director, administrator, counselor, creative writer, and inspirational leader. I know! How does a medium size church in Wylie, Texas find a leader like that?
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This week we finished one of my least favorite tasks of the year. Taking down the Christmas decorations always fills me with melancholy. I love Christmas and the message of hope and joy it brings. That God entered human form and gave us hope in a Savior who understands our struggle. We packed up a treasured Nativity creche that has been a part of our family tradition for decades. That miracle in a Bethlehem stable is where I place my joy as I head into a very unstable New Year. I find my joy in the Messiah, the Lord – who was born in the city of David. It is so easy to remember the reason for hope during Christmas. It also easy to forget that when things turn dark. We also packed away a decoration that spells out JOY. Now that we are past this wonderful season it would be easy to pack away joy in the attic and concentrate on cultural concerns.
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Amy Grant recorded “My Grown-up Christmas List” for her “Home For Christmas” album. The lyrics imagine an adult going back to Santa with a different perspective on what matters most in life. Instead of material things the writer now asks for good things for others. I love the sentiment of the song. No more lives torn apartThat wars would never startAnd time would heal all heartsEveryone would have a friendAnd right would always winAnd love would never endThis is my grown-up Christmas list I thought about my “grown-up” Christmas list this week. I would love for all of the things in the lyrics above to come true. But I have lived enough to know they will not. Everyday lives are torn apart. Wars start too frequently. Time does not heal every heart. Some who are reading this are lonely. Right seems to lose way too often and love ends for many. So what could I wish for that would be available for all?
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One of my favorite Christmas stories happened during the horrors of war. The Christmas carol “Silent Night” was actually responsible for a wartime Christmas truce. The year was 1914 and soldiers were having to spend Christmas Eve night on the World War I battlefields of Belgium. After only four months of fighting, more than a million men had already perished in the bloody conflict. The bodies of dead soldiers were scattered between the trenches. Enemy troops were dug-in so close that they could easily exchange shouts. On December 24, 1914, in the middle of a freezing battlefield in France, a miracle happened. The British troops watched in amazement as candle-lit Christmas trees began to appear above the German trenches. The glowing trees soon appeared along the length of the German front. Henry Williamson, a young soldier with the London Regiment wrote in his diary: “From the German parapet, a rich baritone voice had begun to sing a song I remembered my German nurse singing to me…. The grave and tender voice rose
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Christmas really is the most wonderful time of the year. I love the music, the memories, the traditions, and the chance to annually think about Burl Ives. His memory returns with my annual viewing of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Ives is the voice of Sam the Snowman who narrates the “enhanced” story of Rudolph. Rudolph and his elf buddy Hermey don’t fit in with the others. Rudolph looks different than his peers. Hermey is not interested in making toys. In an odd plot twist, Hermey wants to be a dentist. Not surprisingly, his elf supervisor is upset with the unproductive Hermey. So the two outcasts set off to find their purpose and a place to be accepted. The part of the story that resonates with me these days is when Hermey and Rudolph find their way to the Island of Misfit Toys. All of the toys on this island are castoffs because they are flawed and deemed worthless. There is a “Charlie
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I remember a Christmas past when I quizzed the grandkids what they had asked Santa to bring. After telling me their wish they followed up with this statement. “Unless we have been bad. Then maybe we won’t get it until next year.” I smiled and assured them that they were not bad. Parents have dangled that Santa “nice list” carrot to try and get good behavior for generations. Santa Clause is comin’ to town and you had better watch out because he is making a list. So no pouting, No crying. Better be on your best behavior or else. And that performance trap learned as a child waiting for Santa can also profoundly and dangerously impact Christians. I am borrowing some content from my dear friend John Lynch, one of the authors of the The Cure. He addresses how we are programmed from childhood to default to performance theology. He calls it the “Santa Claus is Coming to Town theology”. You
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