The other day, I was reading the Bible to my little daughters and we came across a passage that made me a little uncomfortable. In it, Jesus said, “Give to those who ask, and don’t turn away from those who want to borrow” (Matthew 5:42). It felt awkward when I tried to explain the verse to the girls.
If you’re anything like me, just the thought of a new year’s resolution provokes a sense of dreaded guilt – the feeling that you’re only doing it because you’ve already failed in the previous year, and you’re going to end up failing in the next one anyway. I’m thinking this is not one of those things Jesus was talking about when he was talking about coming to give us abundant lives (John 10:10).
Let’s play a game. I’ll describe someone, and you tell me who I’m talking about. 1. He’s an old man with a long, white beard. 2. He sees everything you do. 3. He keeps a list of your deeds, good and bad. 4. He lives in a far-off, magical kingdom you couldn’t find if you tried. 5. He never allows himself to be seen; and 6. All the movies about him are fairly lame.
I’ve had close friendships with countless Christians in my lifetime, and if there’s one thing we’ve all got in common, it’s that we’ve all got some bad habit, some addictive sin, some hangup that we just can’t seem to overcome. People struggle with all kinds of things — rage, overeating, jealousy, passive-aggressive behavior, and porn addiction, to name a few.
I used to spend a great deal of my time digging in my soul for spiritual brokenness. I was on a manhunt for sinful motives, ungodly habits, and character flaws – for badness, brokenness, ugliness – all the things I thought kept me from God.
I’ve spent three years of my legal career as a criminal prosecutor, a job that usually has one goal when it comes to wrongdoers: conviction. Once the defendant has pleaded guilty or has been found guilty by a jury, it’s all over. He has been convicted, and the only thing left to do is sentence him.
When I was in eleventh grade, the entire high school was summoned to the gym for what can be fairly described as an exercise in mass hypnosis.
There’s nothing like trying to get on a loaded city bus when there’s a mob of people waiting at the bus stop. When that happens, everybody just crams into the bus and surrenders their personal space – well, most people do.
When I was in college, I was extremely insecure. And because I was so afraid people didn’t like me, I demanded a high level of loyalty from anyone who claimed to be my friend.
A couple of Saturdays ago, my wife had some errands to run, so I ended up spending most of the day with my daughters, who are three and four. One thing that surprised me was how much I enjoyed myself, which may sound strange to those who know how much I love my kids.
The other day, I asked my wife to bring my daughters to downtown DC for lunch because it was my youngest child’s birthday, and I wanted us to celebrate as a family. It was probably a bad idea.
Back in 2008, I followed the advice of a dear friend and interviewed a few people about the impact my life had on them. The interview questions were designed to illicit mostly negative responses, and boy, did they ever.
This weekend, my family and I were at a restaurant when my four-year-old started having a meltdown at the table because she couldn’t cut her sausage. I recognized that it had the potential of becoming a prolonged cry-fest, so I went over, picked her up, and took her over by the bar, where there were fewer people.
It’s so hard for some of us to say no. But saying no is one of the most self-respecting things we can do. We can’t be available to everyone; we can’t say yes to every need; we can’t show up for every invitation.
If you follow this blog on Facebook, you already know that this past weekend, I had a conversation with Mrs. Saucier, the inspiring fifth-grade teacher featured in my recent post, “If Jesus Were a Fifth Grade Teacher.” Here’s the story of how it happened (from the Facebook post) . . .
Joshua Rogers 