Fifteen years ago today, I woke up early and went for a jog.  I’m not a runner (and wasn’t then either), but it seemed to be the most logical way to unload some of the nervous energy pulsating through my veins.  After all, I was getting married in a few short hours.

It wasn’t the anxiety of losing my manly independence, or the question of whether I was committing my life to the right woman. In retrospect, I think I feared my ability to become the man she needed me to be. A husband.

I don’t know that I’ve arrived, but I do know one thing:  If I had it all to do over again, I would still choose her.

We’re far from perfect. We disagree, irritate each other, communicate poorly, act like broken humans.  All the things other married couples do.  But love is where we’ve made our home. And love miraculously devours a multitude of dysfunction and self-centeredness.

And from that love, the most beautiful things have emerged. A life, a home, three beautiful children, (a handful of irritating little dogs), and a willingness to follow the voice of God on some of the strangest and most risk-filled adventures.

After 15 years, I couldn’t love her more. Her wisdom and ingenuity.  Her faith in God (and somehow in me).  Her willingness to sit through bad action movies and (sometimes) even pretend she likes them.  Her commitment to our children.  Her ability to give up security for the sake of obedience to God’s voice.

But most of all, I’m grateful that every morning when I wake up, she still chooses to be there.

I’m the luckiest man alive.

Not just because we made it 15 years.  Because these first 15 are just a small sign of what’s yet to come.

I love you Mandy.  If I could do it all over again, I’d still choose you.

Happy anniversary.

If God is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18), then He’s certainly taken up residence in our house today.

Yesterday, our neighbors of 10 years loaded a truck and relocated 8 hours away to southern Missouri, victims of a recession-driven job loss here in Indy.  I know I know, lots of neighbors move.  But aboard that giant truck was their 13 year old daughter, who over the last decade felt like she had become ours as well.

Maddie went everywhere with us. Came in and out of the house without knocking.  And even though our families are from starkly different faith traditions, she became an older sister to my kids.  None of them remember life before Maddie.

Now she’s gone.

Skype calls and text messaging will never replace the beauty of proximity, and now an empty two-story house sits as a constant reminder that we never really were in control of this life anyway.

Holding my sobbing little girl yesterday afternoon was an all-too-real incarnation of this harsh reality:

Directly or indirectly, relationships will hurt you.

The pain is raw.  And like a candle that has been extinguished, the temptation is to let the wax get hard, to coat over and encapsulate our vulnerabilities so we never feel this way again.  To stop loving.  Because with love comes the potential for great pain.

It’s easier to stop caring. To stop entrusting.  To stop pursuing.  To stop risking.

To stop living.

When we instinctively avoid our pain, we unknowingly compress our joy.  We don’t just stop feeling the hurt, we stop feeling at all. We become calloused.  Hollow.  Lifeless.  We think it’s safer there among the “dead.” And that’s a battle I’m not willing to let my children lose.

So goodbye Maddie.  Whether our lives are separated by a wooden privacy fence or 500 miles of interstate highway, you’ll always be a part of our family.  The joy of your presence was more than worth the pain of your absence.

Today we willingly embrace them both.

Responding to my desires is easy. What’s inside of me just naturally comes out.  It doesn’t take much thought, energy, or discipline to do what I want to do.  My essence just responds. It’s natural.  My desires are formed by my DNA, my culture, my socio-economic upbringing, my life experiences.  Lots of things.  Unfortunately, those “lots of things” also includes my fallen, broken, sinful nature.  In that way, living from what I want is incredibly dangerous.

I have other options, too.  I can live under the weight of obligation. Completely opposite of my desires, living by someone else’s expectations is outside-in, guilt-driven behavior modification. You know what I mean.  Maybe you’re 28 years old with 2 kids of your own, but you still hear the voice of your un-approving mother in the back of your head (or maybe in your actual ears).  Your actions still reflect your desire to please her, and you live under the intense scrutiny of her obligation on your life.

(Incidentally, that’s what religion does, too. It obligates.  Sets up impossible outward-focused expectations while simultaneously offering no hope for actually attaining them.  And I know there are lots of you out there that live under those very real and very guilt-filled religious chains. Some are just afraid to admit it because you’re heritage and your understanding of God are all wrapped up in the lie. It’s OK, you can be honest here.)

What if there’s a third option? A door number 3?

Mark 1:12 says “The Spirit then compelled Jesus to go into the wilderness…” (NLT)

At first glance, the word compel says force (in fact that’s in the actual definition).  But if you look closer, there is an element of compulsion that gives a different vibe.  To compel actually means to exert an “irresistible force.” Almost as if it causes me to drop my defenses and willfully subvert or push beyond what’s naturally in my DNA.

Being compelled is completely different than guilt-ridden obligation.  It’s also very different than surrendering to my natural, in-born desires.  It’s responding willfully, not from desire or obligation, but because I love, and trust, and believe in the One Who is compelling me. He’s an irresistible force.

I may not always want what He wants, but I do want Him.

Do you think Jesus desired to journey into the desert for 40 days with no food?  Doubtful.  But I don’t think He felt obligated either.  He was willfully responding to the irresistible force of the Father’s love. He was compelled.

How do you live? By what just feels natural?  From your in-born desires?  Out of obligation?  Guilty “hoop-jumping” to keep others happy with you (including God)?

What about door #3?

I’m honored to participate in the “blog tour” for Mark Batterson’s new book, PRIMAL.  My review of his challenging new book is below.  Check it out (the post and the book).

As far as I know, there is no such thing as “C.A.” (Churchies Anonymous), but maybe there should be. There are undoubtedly a lot of you like me who were raised in the subculture of the Western Evangelical American Church.  You know, that subtle, religious dance, where Christianity is defined by a set of behavioral standards and consistent Sunday attendance.

And while I really do cherish the way I was raised, I often wonder how much of my understanding of God was shaped merely by a set of cultural norms rather than a true and personal encounter with Jesus Christ. Many days I feel like I’m still waking up.

That‘s why I love Mark Batterson’s new book PRIMAL: A Quest for the Lost Soul of Christianity. This book takes dead aim at humanity’s uncanny ability to over-complicate God. To trade in the freedom of Christ for the layers of religiosity He actually came to unravel, all in our vain attempts to find Him in the first place.  In PRIMAL, Mark gets back to the simple essence of what it means to love God.

Mark is a “churchie” like me.  Raised in it, married into it, studied it, built it.  But he’s a church “insider” that’s not satisfied with simply preserving the status quo. Mark’s not afraid of the hard questions, yet he asks them with such dignity and class you feel like he’s giving you a high five while he’s really kicking your butt. Here are a few of my favorite quotes:

“The temptation is to ask this question: what’s wrong with this generation? But that is the wrong question. The right question is this: what’s wrong with the church?”

“As we grow in our love relationship with God, we begin to empathize with God.  We feel what He feels.”

“It seems to me that we have spiritualized the American Dream or materialized the gospel.”

“When we lose our sense of wonder, what we really lose is our soul.  Our lack of wonder is really a lack of love.”

“I’m afraid we’ve unintentionally fostered a subtle form of spiritual codependency in our churches.  It’ is easy to let others take responsibility for what should be our responsibility.”

“Too many of us try to understand truth in the static state.  We want to understand it without doing anything about it, but it doesn’t work that way. You want to understand it?  Then obey it.”

“The truth is that most of us are already educated way beyond the level of our obedience.  We learn more and do less, thinking all the while that we’re growing spiritually.”

“Which do you love more: your dream or God?”

“This book is an invitation to be part of something that is bigger than you, more important than you, and longer lasting than you.  It’s an invitation to be part of the next reformation.“

PRIMAL reads quickly and is compiled in powerful, poignant, yet small, almost blog-like chunks. In fact, this book really seems to be further development of many of Mark’s posts from the last few years.  It reflects an honest passion for Christ beyond just being a church leader (as well as an obvious fascination for scientific thought and studies).

I highly recommend it as a first read for 2010. It’s a great book for anyone, but it found a special connection with me as a church “insider” constantly looking to escape the complicated layers that religious culture has quietly coated me with over the years.  If you want something real, search for something primal.

Check it out. Let me know what you think.

Evil isn’t a horror flick.  But when most of us hear the word evil, we naturally think of Freddy, Jason, Halloween, Hitler, or other grotesquely wicked expressions.  What is evil?  The Bible isn’t a dictionary, cleanly spelling out tight and concise definitions for our informational consumption.  But if we look at the whole of Scripture we get a picture of what evil is truly all about (and it may hit a little closer to home than you think).

I’d like to offer my own working definition for your thoughtful analysis:

Evil is simply satisfying self at the detriment of others.

At it’s worst, evil expresses itself in violence, murder, oppression, injustice, and other vile outflows.  It’s easy to see in fascist warlords, death-row inmates, and global genocide.  But what about the husband who lies to his wife about working late so he can hang out with his buddies at the local pub?  The business woman who quietly threatens her peers in order to manipulate her way into a promotion?  Even the spiritual leader who tarnishes the reputation of others to keep from having his own failures exposed?  Evil?  Jesus said it originates in the heart, not in the act. (Matthew 5)

It starts with simple, seemingly innocent, yet foolish decisions born out of temptation, fear, or insecurity.  Then left unchecked, our consciences become seared until inflicting pain or even destroying others becomes easy, even justified, all in the name of pleasing or protecting self.  That, my friends, is evil.  The scary thing?  The potential resides in each and every one of us, not just communist dictators.

The seeds of evil rise from dormancy when I pursue a life that revolves around me.  When I refuse to face my junk, my insecurities, my baggage, my self-absorption.  When I avoid accountability and vulnerability to preserve power or position, the slippery slope has begun.  The remedy?  Love.

While evil is willing to hurt or destroy anything and anyone to protect or promote itself, love is just the opposite.  Love willfully sacrifices itself  for the benefit of others, and no One lived that definition better than Jesus Himself.  He’s got the nail scars to prove it.  And He can bring that love to life inside each and everyone of us if we’ll just let Him.

So the question for you and me is this:  have we started our own self-aborbed journey towards evil?  Deal with it now or you may find yourself starring in your own horror flick, with dead bodies all around you to prove it.