Daily Walk #3: Being Good vs. Better

Today’s Readings

Luke 10:38-42

Key Verse

The Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has made the right choice, and it will not be taken away from her.”

—Luke 10:41-42

Reflections 

Several years ago, if you’d looked up “church lady” in the dictionary, you would’ve found my picture next to the definition. But I came by it honestly. Thank you very much.

It was an easy pattern to fall into. Growing up, the ladies in my small-town church were busy little bees for Jesus, serving every day of the week, running to and fro. And I wanted so badly to impress Jesus with all my skills too.

Before I knew it, as an adult, I was in three Beth Moore Bible Studies, leading two high school girls small groups, cooking 50 meals for the sick each week, playing greeter on Sunday mornings, and offering myself up to be a martyr in a remote village in Africa.

OK…maybe that’s a little bit of an exaggeration. But that’s what it felt like!

Then I crashed and burned. It was bad—real bad. I was exhausted. I quit everything. I decided to simply sit at Jesus’ feet, soaking Him in, just BEING in His presence. And that changed my heart and life—just like it did Mary’s from today’s story.

Can’t you picture Martha? She was distracted by her tasks—trying to make everything PERFECT for Jesus. Giving Mary the evil-eye from the doorway, she frantically tried motioning her back into the kitchen. Then frazzled, she finally approached Jesus.

“Lord, I need help. I’ve got eight casseroles in the oven, the table needs to be set, the glasses haven’t been filled, and the bread still needs to bake. My hands are full. Don’t you care that Mary’s not helping me? Tell her to get up off her behind and DO something!”

And what did classic, kind, gentle-hearted Jesus say? (Love this man so much.) “Martha, chill out. You’re getting all worked up over nothing when only one thing truly matters—ME. What Mary’s doing is right and good. Don’t take that away from her.”

First things first, here me say this: serving the Lord isn’t wrong. Let me repeat it: serving the Lord isn’t wrong. One more time for good measure: serving the Lord isn’t wrong.

Second, Jesus didn’t condemn Martha. He appreciated her warm hospitality and kindness. However, He was firm-but-gentle when He spoke, pointing out something that was good and something that was even better.

Martha wanted to give Jesus her TIME. Mary wanted to give Jesus her HEART.

Life is obviously busy for all of us—and the world tells us to live in that mode. But Jesus says, “Stop. Come to Me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). Sweet relief, right? Do it! You know you want to.

Serving Him is good. Sitting at His feet is way better.

Daily Walk #2: Baptism

Scripture Passage:

Matthew 3:13-17; Mark 1:9-11; Luke 3:21-23

Key Verse:

Jesus answered him, “Allow it for now, because this is the way for us to fulfill all righteousness.” Then he allowed Him to be baptized.

—Matthew 3:15

Reflections:

My daddy is a preacher. That means I was your typical PK growing up. I had 47 sets of parents and/or grandparents (all who had permission to discipline me when needed) and 94 eyes watching my every move at all times.

That also means I got all the perks of being a PK. You know, getting into the communion grape juice when I shouldn’t have, running full-speed and yelling through the halls of the church after hours, and—my personal favorite—helping my dad fill the baptistery on Saturday evenings.

I was a pro at baptizing because I’d seen my dad do it so much. I mean, I dunked my little brother in the public swimming pool every summer no less than 723 times each year—all in the name of “the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

As an adult, some of my dad’s best ministry stories include that which happened during baptisms. Like the time he put a woman under the water and when she came back up, her wig was floating on the surface. Or the time when he immersed a very large woman and, even with the help of a deacon, it took 15 minutes to get her back up.

My favorite story was when he went to fill the baptistery one Saturday night and realized someone must have just done the deed, but the plug in the bottom had come out. To stop it from draining, he shucked every stitch of clothing he had on, climbed into the weighters, and dove in to stop it.

Just as he was coming up out of the water, he heard something move in the darkened sanctuary. He stepped out and ran smack dab into one of the little old ladies who’d come to get her Sunday School lesson for the next morning.

I’ll never forget what my dad said about that day: “There I was, with nothing between me and glory but those weighters.”

I laugh thinking about those stories, but one thing I always noticed about baptisms was that my dad made sure they happened at the beginning of each service. It was a focal point in worship, a celebration, a chance to witness someone literally following in the footsteps of Jesus.

Back in the day, John was reluctant to baptize Jesus because of His sinless nature. But Jesus had to complete this step in order for “all righteousness” to be complete, so He could identify with the people He came to save (see 2 Corinthians 5:21).

As a result, throughout the gospels, we see that God publicly declared Jesus’ Sonship and His delight in Him because of His obedience in baptism. And that’s why He’s the example we’re to follow.

When you dig deep into baptism you come out with the Greek word baptizo, which literally means “to make clean with water; to immerse; to overwhelm; to identify with.” No—water doesn’t save. Jesus does. But being baptized symbolizes what’s happened in your heart through salvation, and it brings about your righteousness through Him.

I like how Pastor Mike says it best: “If you want to be like Jesus, you walk like He walks, talk like He talks, think like He thinks, do what He does.”

Daily Walk #1: I want to be like Mary

Back in January, I got asked to join in with a team of writers at my church to provide daily devotionals for our congregation who are currently reading through the Bible in a year. 

I know, I know...I'm already the "paid" writer and editor at Brentwood Baptist. But it's not often I get to write in my voice and own it. So I'm passing along on this blog the ones I've written so far...

Scripture Passage:

Luke 1:26-38

Key Verse:

“I am the Lord’s slave,” said Mary. “May it be done to me according to your word.”

—Luke 1:38

Reflections:

Let’s just set the record straight. If an angel of the Lord had approached me—like he did Mary—with even so much as a “hello” or “how’s it going?” I would’ve thought I’d lost all my marbles.

So I love that, in the beginning of this passage, Luke (the ever accurate doctor) describes Mary’s initial reaction to the angels greeting as “deeply troubled by this statement.” Ha. Nice one, Brother Luke. Way to play that one down.

Moving on, had said angel informed me I was now pregnant and would soon give birth to the Son of God, the One who was sent to save all of mankind, I would’ve royally freaked out.

What will my parents think? What will my betrothed think? What will my community think? What will my church family think? Why me? Why now? What in the world?!

Good thing it was Mary and not me.

She was favored. She sensed the reality and weight of this task nearly immediately. And she didn’t ask 99 questions, require a signed contract, and demand an explanation from the Most High—like I usually do when He asks me to do something.

And wasn’t that nice of the angel to assure her of the miracle-next-door happening with Cousin Elizabeth? “For nothing is impossible with God.” That was the cherry on top of it all. It was the equals sign to the crazy equation he’d just laid out.

But this is where this passage gets me every time. Without hesitation, Mary willingly went along with His plan, even though she risked being stoned to death or shunned for what looked like the scandal of the millennium.

She was a very special 15-year-old. She didn’t nag or complain. She wasn’t worried about whether or not her skinny jeans would fit into the seventh month of her pregnancy. There was no wavering of faith or calling the angel a “creeper.”

Mary simply replied, “OK, Lord. Done. I belong to You, so whatever you ask, I’ll do it.”

That’s the kind of trust and obedience I want in my relationship with Jesus. Don’t you?

A Healthy Dose of Job 1:21

"The Lord gave me what I had, 
and the Lord has taken it away. 
Praise the name of the Lord!”
—Job 1:21

When the emotional, two-month-ish roller coaster ride came to a stop this week and I stepped off, I was still breathing and my lunch had remained safely tucked away in my gut. And my reaction to it all surprised no one more than myself.

(Cue the let's-go-back-in-time dream sequence music here.)

In March, with pen in hand, Jesus wrote in allowed a few new, exciting twists and turns into my story—things I'd prayed for, waited for, hoped for. Then just as quickly, He took them all away. Every. Last. One. Freakishly. Unexpectedly. 

When the dust settled, I thought I'd be irrevocably devastated. I thought I'd for sure change my mind about God's infinite goodness. I thought I'd call it the worst kind of trickery and blame His obvious cruelty.

But I didn't.

Sure...there were tears and questions. OK...I had a long, honest talk with Jesus. Alright...I escaped to my home state for a minute (or three). Fine...I consumed no less than 27 cups of coffee in a 4-day period with complementary conversations.

But when rocked, my boat didn't capsize. It bumped the waves, but I wasn't thrown overboard. Wanna know why? I fell back into Him—like I'm stinking supposed to, like I always say I will when the going gets rough. I landed in my deeply anchored relationship with Him.

One of my best friends, Meredith, challenged me to write out what Jesus has taught me through this short little chapter. So here goes:

1. He's faithful. Always and forever. No doubt. Keep repeating it—even when you don't feel like it.
2. His nature can't be divided, so He can't be both good and cruel. He is who He is—and He's just really good. 
3. I'm a lucky girl. He's built a rock solid family and spiritual community around me like a brick wall—those who pray for, love, and encourage me. If you don't have this kind of biblical community, GET ONE.
4. The enemy is big, bad, and very real. Dude never gets exhausted trying to steal, kill, and destroy my life, dreams, spirit, heart, etc. So when these things happen, you know what to do? Recognize who it is and what he's doing. Suit up. And fight back.
5. Jesus hears and answers prayers. Every day during this chapter, I Psalm 5:3-ed the heck out of every piece of it. Each morning, I asked Him to guide and protect me—to go before me, behind me, around me. Looking back, He did. Which brings me to...
6. Romans 8:28. He's working all things out for His glory and my good. Like a boss.
7. Jesus is the giver of good gifts—all of which are beneficial. Even if what's good on the inside comes wrapped in painful, misunderstood packaging. I trust Him. I trust Him. I trust Him. I trust Him.
8. I've never been more sure that one of the things I've been created for in this life is to walk alongside a man in covenant marriage. And Jesus holds the pen in writing that story—NOT ME. 
9. I've also never been more sure that sovereign God guides my steps and has a holy, mind-blowing plan for my life. He's in the details—even the tiniest, seemingly insignificant ones. (See #6.)
10. I can encourage, pray for, and try to pull others out of a pit all day long, but ultimately, I'm NOT their Savior. That's Jesus' job, and I have no business trying to play His part.
11. For those who are loyally in love with God, there's life and more life and more life—to infinity and beyond. James 1. James stinking 1. Read it and weep. I did.

I can honestly say: "God gave me what He wanted. He took away from me what He wanted. I will trust Him no matter what. His name is worthy to be praised!"

Future Kaylan, this therapeutic blog post is more for you than anyone else. Remember it for the next time you have to get in the front seat on this kind of coaster and go for a wild ride. Except next time, throw your hands in the air and enjoy every minute of it. Repeat after me: it's a gift.

How much is that doggy in the window?

I love her. Really, I do.

But she growls incessantly—like NON-STOP. Who knows what she's saying? But if I had my guess, it wouldn't be pretty...

And she wig-wag zig-zags her fanny all over my house like she owns the place.

And she likes to dig through the trash can and ingest whatever's inside. And by whatever, I mean WHATEVER. Sick.

And she hates other dogs. Like wants to bite their faces off if they sniff too close. Not nice.

And she regularly loses her mind and tries to dig a hole all the way to China—through my carpet.

And she'd sell her soul owner for a handful of marshmallows or an Oscar Mayer wiener.

And she prefers to lie on her back 24/7 so someone—ANYONE—will rub her belly. (For the record—I sure as heck didn't teach her that trick.)

A few days ago, I took her for a walk and found her nosing around the grass. She came up for air crunching on something, looking like she'd just hit the candy jackpot.

I stepped a little closer and found her nibbling on a large pile of...DEER POOP. GAG. ME.

My prissy little bucktooth pup was snacking on wild animal pellets. It's not like I don't feed her face every day! Just another notch in her belt of things that irritate the FIRE out of me.

After scrubbing her gums until they bled and lacing her water bowl with Listerine... (Kidding!)

I do joke a lot about giving her up because of these types of shenanigans. Some days, I swear I'm going to lock her out and see if she can find herself a new home.

But I really wouldn't trade the little monster for anything. She's priceless. She's a good friend—and has been for 7.5 years.

So here's to Mia and her deer-poop-eating, trash-digging, ugly-face-growling, only-uses-me-for-what-she-can-get-out-of-me ways... Cheers!

"Lady, get these dang bows out of my hair and I'll show you what you can do with them..."

The day I ripped her from her Poppy and Grammy's arms after her 3-month stay in their home (where she also gained 17,000 pounds and got hooked on human food). She was mad. Real mad.

If looks could kill...

Those eyes, Mia. That face, Mia. You're wrong. Stop making me feel bad for threatening to beat the 'tude out of you every day!

Senior portrait. Next to last in her class. Makes Mama proud.

Her favorite spot—on my favorite blanket. Of course.

Cousins! Don't tell me you don't see the resemblance. The truth hurts. She'll get over it.

See? I wasn't kidding. She's doesn't have a ladylike bone in her body. She needs serious help.

Ode to Daddy on His 60th Birthday

There are so many things I could say about my Dad, but here are just 60 you should know as we celebrate his 60 years of life today:

1. He loves social media—including Facebook and Twitter—and has high hopes of being a famous blogger one day. The man is nothing if not consistent from week to week. (Check him out.)
2. He likes numbers and calculations and predictions regarding the first two items mentioned, including but not limited to mileage, budgets, ETAs.
3. He doesn’t particularly like wearing lots of clothing. In another life, he was definitely meant to live in a nudist colony or pre-sin Garden of Eden. TMI? Ahhh, yes, but it’s the truth.
4. He’s a living, breathing countdown clock to the next thing in life (e.g. how many days until I fly back home, how many hours until we reach grandma’s house, how many years until he can fully retire).
5. He calls the refrigerator an “icebox,” says pants are “britches,” and will only refer to underwear as “drawers.” Brotha was raised in the south for sure.
6. He pronounces washer as “warsher,” fork as “fark,” and exercise as “extercise.” And my personal favorite—any word that begins with “chi” comes out sounding like “shi.” Chicken is shicken, chitlins is…you get the point.
7. He can play one song on the guitar. One song—“Bad, Bad Leroy Brown.” (I’d like to see you rock that one in a church service on Sunday, Pastor.)
8. He hates leftover green beans. And isn’t much of a fan of pasta and sour kraut.
9. He thinks my mom’s cooking is the next best thing to sliced bread. Because she makes her own bread. And it’s the best bread he’s ever tasted. He practically refuses to eat anywhere but in her kitchen. And he’s pretty much spot on.
10. He has no sense of fashion whatsoever. For instance, when mowing the lawn, he rocks a sweatband while wearing gargantuan old-school headphones while sporting socks that come up to his kneecaps. Boom. And he’s proud of it.
11. When he can’t remember the name of something, he substitutes words that sound similar (e.g. Asperger’s Disease becomes Asparagus Disease, quinine becomes quinoa). He feels it still does the job for getting his point across.
12. Tells people he has “leprosy” in his feet. What he really means is “neuropathy.” (See #10.) He’s special.
13. He loves God’s Word with every fiber of his being. Lives, breathes, eats, digests, and regurgitates it. And can quote it back to you like a freaking encyclopedia.
14. He loves pouring life, hope, encouragement, wisdom, character, truth, and integrity, etc. into the pastors he works with each week. And 88% of that happens in his corner office at the local Braum’s over a cup of coffee.
15. When I’m home for a visit, he likes to go on long walks with me through the neighborhood or lay down next to me for an hour or so when I crawl into bed at night—just to laugh and talk about life. Precious memories.
16. He’s literally my pup’s favorite human in the world. She would fight to the death for that man. He has her hook, line, and sinker.
17. He sends me random text messages and voicemails every week saying he loves me, he thinks I’m beautiful, and he’s praying for me. See why I’m still waiting for the right man to come along? It takes a lot to live up to what I’m used to.
18. Speaking of praying, he’s my biggest prayer warrior (next to my mom). He intercedes for me every day—multiple times a day. When I was in high school, I woke up in the middle of the night to find him kneeling next to my bed, praying for me and calling out to the Lord on my behalf. That’s a good daddy right there.
19. He’s repeated this mantra to me my entire life: “Trust and obey, for there’s no other way, to be happy in Jesus.” Now, it’s stuck.
20. He memorized scripture with me when I was young. The one I remember best is Isaiah 41:10. We’d quote it back and forth to each other over and over: “Fear not, for I am with you. Don’t be afraid because I’m your God. I will strengthen you. Yes, I will help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”
21. He can grow a full-bodied mustache and sideburns to top them all (and 89% of the time does it just to irritate the fire out of my mom because he knows she hates it).
22. He still likes to flirt with my mom after 37 years of marriage—and even when we’re not there to see it in person (trust me, I know this because I’ve been the victim of a tragic butt dial where I heard every detail of one such flirtatious encounter).
23. He spends an inordinate amount of time in his “man cave” every evening participating in a variety of activities: exercising, e-mailing, balancing his budget, and watching reruns of Andy Griffith, Three’s Company, and Bonanza.
24. He lives in the black or white, yes or no, right or wrong, one or the other perspective of life. There aren’t too many gray areas with this guy.
25. He’d do anything—and I mean anything—for his family.
26. He likes to consider himself tech savvy and stays up-to-date on the latest gadgets. We’re working on that.
27. He used to pick my brother and me up from school, take us home, and make us after-school snacks in the Fry Daddy. One plate was covered in tator tots and another was layered with chicken nuggets. And the third plate was for dipping—half ketchup and half honey. Needless to say, that’s also the same year my mom went back to work full-time.
28. He can get pretty animated and like to embarrass the women in the family at times—and I secretly love every single minute of it.
29. He likes to be intricately involved in my life—hearing the details of my day, spending time in my world, being friends with my friends. Just for that, he gets a call from me every single day between 5:00 and 6:00 p.m. for a daily update.
30. He has the mannerisms and stubbornness of his daddy and the kind, gentle, sweet spirit of his mama.
31. He doesn’t like to hem-haw around on the phone for too long. Never has. Never will.
32. He says he doesn’t care, but either gets mad or gets his feelings hurt when he loses in family card and domino games. I think it’s all a show.
33. He’s the greatest encourager known to man. He always knows the right thing to say to lift your spirits. And if he can’t think of anything, he’ll make a few other suggestions. (Bonus: he’s a suggester.) 
34. He has faith the size of Texas times 74. He’s got faith for every person in our family, and then some. It completely oozes out of him.
35. He likes to walk on the treadmill in his Man Cave wearing nothing but tightey-whiteys and tennis shoes. That’s right—you heard me correctly. (Told you he didn’t like clothes.) Thank goodness my mom is the only one who ever witnesses this.
36. He can lose weight faster than any human being I’ve ever seen.
37. He’s freakishly wise and refreshingly genuine—all the time.
38. He would sign up for the Hotter than Hell Bike Race if it weren’t in August and…well, hotter than hell. He talks about doing it every year. (Just do it already, Dad!)
39. On that note, he likes to hop on his bike and ride for miles and miles down country roads to practice for the Hotter than Hell Bike Race he’s never going to sign up for.
40. He’s the fastest eater I’ve ever seen. I’m not sure he even breathes in between bites. He’s practically a magician. He’s all, “Now you see it. Now you don’t!”
41. He loves having his family home for the holidays. Like l-o-v-e-s it.
42. He’s fascinated by history—so much so that he’s contacted random people all over the U.S. as he’s researched our genealogy and constructed our family tree, which now contains information of a lineage that goes back into the 1400s.
43. He likes to stop and read all the historical markers on roadtrips.
44. He has the best smile and laugh of anyone I know. Ever.
45. He’d rather lie in a pile of slithering snakes and stinging scorpions than ever be caught dead rooting for the Longhorns. He’s a Sooner fan for life. Boomer!
46. He taught my brother and I how to build a fort, dig a hole, light a fire, etc. when we were kids. If the world falls apart, we could probably solidly survive on our own because of him.
47. On family vacations when I was a kid, you could always pick him out of a crowd because he was carrying the 87-pound monster of a camcorder, recording every detail of the trip. I’m glad he did because a few years ago, he took all those ancient VHS tapes, created a DVD library of my childhood, and gave it to me for Christmas.
48. He coached my little league softball team and pee wee basketball team. And he never got upset when we lost or the time when I got the ball, dribbled it down to the wrong end of the court, and scored for the other team. He just enjoyed doing it together.
49. He can drink black coffee by the gallon. Waiters in local restaurants now see him coming and don’t even take his drink order anymore. They just set a mug and a whole pot of java in front of him and let him go to town.
50. He’s an AVID reader. You can always find him with a book in his hands.
51. He’ll drive 50 miles out of his way to save 10 cents a gallon on gas. That man loves a good deal at the pump.
52. He constantly reminisces on the good old days. He oftentimes says, “Remember the time when…”
53. He’s a little bit of a hoarder—but only in the confines of his Man Cave. He says he likes to hold on to stuff for a rainy day. (Little does he know, my mom likes to sneak in and clear out the junk every now and then. Oops.)
54. He’s passionate about collecting things—coins, baseball cards, etc. Who knows why? See #53.
55. He still likes to comb an “up” in his hair—55 years later from the time he insisted his mom style it that way.
56. He’d probably sacrifice his first-born (aka me) for a piece of chocolate sheet cake or banana split if they were the last ones on earth.
57. His ideal sleep cycle would begin by going to bed at 4:00 a.m. and finish by waking up at noon. Unfortunately, I inherited his squirrely night owl ways.
58. He dreams of living in Tennessee one day. Next door to me. On a farm. In the hills. Picking on a banjo. Sitting on his front porch. Smoking a pipe. Drinking black coffee. With his girlfriend, RaDonna, by his side. And telling passersby about Jesus.
59. He loves the gospel—getting in front of congregations of people on Sunday mornings and leading them to the Way, the Truth, and the Life. (Then, he likes to come home and immediately wash the “fellowship” off his hands.)
60. He’s seriously the best daddy in the world. I couldn’t have conjured up and created a better one if I’d tried. He’s thoughtful, kind, sacrificial, trustworthy, wise, funny, joyful, sincere, dedicated, loving, respected, loyal, encouraging, honorable, and so much more.

I love you, Daddy! Happy birthday. Now, let’s party.