A Dad's Broken Heart in the Father's Blessed Hands

Six months ago, a fifteen-year-old FFA student named Skylar went to her home in heaven after an accident. She was in a suburban with other students and a school teacher heading to an FFA event when the accident occurred.

Last night, her dad, David, spoke to a house full of men about the journey of his family's loss. To say that it was touching is an enormous understatement. Yes, every man in the room was touched to see the grace of God at work in the life of a man faced with such grief and heartache. But more than that, we were challenged to live for God like never before.

David spoke from the raw, yet deep experiences of his six-month journey and came to some very sobering decisions. He said that when you go through something like what he and his family are going through, you have two options: "fall back on God or push God away." I am so thankful to have witnessed what happens in a man's life when he decides to fall wholeheartedly back on God. Everything changes. Especially your focus and your purpose.

David goes to bed at night and asks two questions: 1) What did I do for God today, and 2) what did God do for me today? He said the second one is always easier to list than the first. God always does more for us than we do for Him, but why don't we do more for Him than we do?

I didn't know Skylar until last night. I can honestly say I know her now because I've seen her through her daddy's heart. Her relatively short time on this earth was well-lived for her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Because of the way she lived her life for Christ, others have come to accept Him as their personal Savior, including a young girl whose route to school every day goes by the scene of the accident where Skylar died. That young girl and her family learned about Skylar and the way she lived her life for Christ, and she wanted to know Skylar's Savior personally.

I am challenged today by a dad whose love for God is helping him walk through the darkest nights of his life with a light that helps others find, believe in, and cling to our heavenly Father. The heart of that dad reminds me of the heart of that Father. God, our heavenly Father, gave His only Son willingly to die on the cross as an eternal payment for your sins and mine. That's an awesome Father, an amazing gift, and an incredible love!

Wherever you are right now -- whatever you're going through -- would you stop for a minute and make a decision to fall wholeheartedly into the arms of God? Pushing Him away only leads to darker darkness, lonelier loneliness, and emptier emptiness.

Darkness needs light. Loneliness needs presence. Emptiness needs substance. God gives all three generously to those who seek Him.

What can I do for You today, Lord?
Perry Crisp

Is It Just Me or is There a Rough Draft in Here?

I am only a co-writer in the story of my life. God is the true Author. He's the Editor-in-Chief. He writes the events, characters, the timing of things, and the circumstances of my daily environment. He schedules appointments and disappointments. I can only write in response to what He writes. My feelings. My faith. My lack of either. He sets the stage. He writes in advance. He knows what's in chapter 24 while I'm still in chapter 12. I walk onto today's stage without script or preparation. My life-writing is impromptu. My responses reveal who I truly am. But I know I'm not writing alone. He has a plan and His plan is good. So, I take what He writes and hope that I gain wisdom, but so often I lose character. I do respond with wisdom...sometimes (occasionally maybe? Okay, so it's more like occasionally-bordering-on-rarely). Most of the time I react emotionally and regret what I write with my words or my actions. Yet even then, God gives me opportunity to rewrite. What feels like permanent red ink boiling out of me in one instant is touched by His eraser of forgiveness the next. He allows for rough drafts. His Spirit lends gentle correction to my outbursts. He calms my trembling hand. He soothes my broken heart. I'm given a second chance to right what's wrong with what I've written. An example from a past manuscript of my life is in order. Please understand -- I'm not proud of some of the things I've written into my life. I usually don't let people see the rough drafts. But I feel compelled to revisit an important chapter. Perhaps you have a chapter comparable to mine. This particular chapter began May 14, 1993. It was a day that I had scheduled for celebration, but it took an unpredictable bounce into a night filled with tears. I was an inexperienced life-writer. I wrote as if life bounced like a basketball. The bounce of a basketball is predictable. You learn the feel of it and know where it's going to be when it bounces back up. Your fingertips can anticipate a basketball so well that your eyes never have to look down. The bounce is in the script. Everything goes according to script. Like I said...I was inexperienced. I looked forward to May 14, 1993. I worked hard for years to get to May 14, 1993. When it finally came, the joy, exhilaration, and adrenalin I felt holding that piece of paper that certified a 92-hour Master's degree is hard to describe. My family and church family were in the audience standing and applauding when my name was called...just like I had written into the script. We celebrated with a graduation party, gifts, and cake. In the script. All was right with the world. The basketball of life was bouncing according to my anticipated desires. Somewhere between the last bite of cake and bedtime, the basketball turned into a football. My life took a very unpredictable bounce. I learned that night that the only thing predictable about life is that it is predictably unpredictable. Life bounces like a football. Ever tried dribbling a football? Try it. You'll understand. Late that night, after the kids were in bed, my mom and dad said they had something to tell us. Mom was in a rocking chair. She was rocking that chair hard. She licked her lips a couple of times as she struggled for words. Something inside me knew I wasn't prepared for what she was about to say. I knew everything I had written had been said. I didn't write what was about to be said. Her cancer was back. This time, it was bone cancer. This time, short of God's powerful, yet fully capable intervention, it would take her life. Suddenly, all that was right with the world vanished into the shadows. My hand hung in the air waiting for the basketball to bounce back up. It never did. A year later, Mom finished her fight, completed her race, and received her crown. I pretended I was still dribbling a basketball. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know how to grieve. I should have put the pen down and stopped writing. It wasn't a fairy tale. It was real. It hurt. Unresolved hurt leads to anger. I tried to resolve it with my resolve. Just keep dribbling. Just keep dribbling. Maybe no one will notice there's no ball there. Maybe if I just kept dribbling, the ball would find its way back. It didn't. Anger has many expressions. Internally, I began to write in invisible ink. Under the surface. A new me. An ugly me. Not for publication. The roughest of rough drafts. Subconsciously, I was angry at the Author. Deep inside me, I fired the Editor-in-Chief and took over all the publication duties of my life. The anger got ugly. Jesus once said, "Apart from Me, you can do nothing." He's right. But in that chapter of my life, you could add one word to the end of His sentence and it would still be true: "Apart from Me, you can do nothing GOOD." I did nothing good. I tried. I took tools too big for my hands into my hands and tried to build my own kingdom. How silly. I'm not an ancient Chinese, but I came up with a proverb: "He who cannot build bird house has no business building a kingdom." It didn't stand. It fell. So did I. Through a process outlined below, I quit playing editor-in-chief of my life and humbly welcomed the authentic Editor-in-Chief back into His rightful place in my life. Life still bounces like a football. I can't predict it. But wow --- you ought to see God dribble a football! It's no problem for Him. How to Rewrite Life - A Process Learned the Hard Way by Perry Crisp: 1. Be Ready. It will happen to you. The predictability of the unpredictable in your life is my prediction. Go ahead and accept it. Count on it. Be ready for anything. Make sure you have more than a fair-weather faith while the weather is still fair. 2. Be Confident: (a) in the power of prayer (Do you realize that Jesus prayed? Jesus would not have prayed if prayer were powerless), and (b) in the presence of friends. Friends may not always understand. In fact, they may even seem clumsy, insensitive, and unthinking at times. But the truth is, they care -- else they wouldn't be there. 3. Be Real. Life isn't a fairy tale. It doesn't go according to our script. While you grapple with accepting that, also give yourself permission to be real with God about your feelings, your hurt, your loss, and your anger. He's a big God. He can handle it. 4. Be Right. With God. The temptation when life takes an unpredictable, unfair, and painful bounce is to let go of God and give up on your faith. I've been there. That path only leads to a dead end of misery. Resist bitterness. You must decide: Do I want to be bitter or get better? It's an either/or choice. Accept what can't be changed. Focus on what's left, not what's lost. Hang on. Cling tighter. Cry louder. Lean harder. Surrender more. His anchor holds through the fiercest storm. 5. Be Renewed. You can't force or fake this part. It's a work of God's grace. Renewal comes through surrender. "God, take what's left. Take what I've made a mess of. It's all in Your hands. I'm in Your hands. I thought I had control. That was just an illusion. I have no control. You have control...as it should be. Renew Your Spirit in me." 6. Bless Others. I know it sounds crazy. But God has wired the universe so that we get better by reaching out to meet the needs of others in spite of our own neediness. Do you need to feel loved? Love someone. Do you need hope? Extend hope to another. Do you need a second chance? Give someone else a second chance. Trust me. It works. "Father, here is a crumpled, worn, tear-stained rough draft. I submit it to You in hopes that You will use it today to speak to my fellow struggling life-writers." Amen... Perry Crisp

Ya Reckon?

Bobby crouched behind a thicket of bushes in the southeast Texas woods, waiting for his target to appear. He heard the crunching of leaves and twigs to his south and waited to see if it was an animal or his enemy approaching. Armadillos make a great racket in the woods, but not nearly as much as an eight-year-old boy.

This was the sound of an eight-year-old boy. Bobby lifted his rifle -- a wooden stick to an adult observer -- but a sniper's rifle to a boy's imagination. Within seconds, a skinny, blonde-haired eight-year-old boy wearing only cut-off jeans came into Bobby's line of fire.

As Bobby squeezed the invisible trigger, he yelled, "Pow, pow, pow, pow!" (Imaginary rifles require vocal sound effects).

Bobby's enemy ducked behind a tree, apparently unharmed.

"I shot you! You're dead!" shouted Bobby.

"Nu- uh! You missed! I dodged your bullets before they could get here!" I shouted back. (Yes, I was the noisy eight-year-old playing army in the woods between Bobby's house and mine. And yes, I've had an overactive imagination all my life...but I really was fast, so he DID miss).

The argument continued. He claimed victory. I claimed stealth. He said I was dead. I said I was alive. The war within the war was never settled.

So it is with the soul and flesh of the believer. The soul tells the flesh to die. Sometimes the flesh dies, but dies slowly; like a black-hatted cowboy in an old western movie who's just been shot. Sometimes the defeated flesh should just go ahead and die, but won't; like a white-hatted cowboy in the same movie who's been shot four times center mass and calls it a flesh wound. But most of the time, the flesh dies like J. R. Ewing: Dead for a season, but makes a comeback.

The Bible tells the believer to die to his old sinful nature. A new nature is in town. "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new" (2 Corinthians 5:17, NKJV).

"But you are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you. Now if anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he is not His. And if Christ is in you, the body is dead because of sin, but the Spirit is life because of righteousness" (Romans 8:9-10, NKJV).

Good stuff. What does it mean? Perhaps an imaginative translation will help: "So don't you see that we don't owe this old do-it-yourself life one red cent. There's nothing in it for us, nothing at all. The best thing to do is give it a decent burial and get on with your new life" (Romans 8:9-10, The Message).

Earlier, Paul wrote, "Reckon yourselves to be dead indeed to sin, but alive to God in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Romans 6:11, NKJV).

If ever a truth were a challenge, this is it. How do I "reckon" myself to be dead? The principle is solid. The fact is, from heaven's perspective, what Jesus did on the cross buried sin's power to destroy us. But we need to transition from principle to practice. How?

First of all, it may surprise you to know that this kind of thinking is psychologically sound. What we think usually translates into conduct. The thought gives birth to the act. But it isn't mechanical. It can't be ritual. There's no going through the motions or chanting a magical set of words. You have to truly desire to be free from sin and alive to the desires and wishes of God for your life.

Being dead to sin and alive to Christ must become the constant conviction of your heart and mind. Everything you think, do, and say must sift through the filter of this truth. You are no longer what you used to be.

"Sin speaks a dead language that means nothing to you; God speaks your mother tongue, and you hang on every word. You are dead to sin and alive to God" (Romans 6:11, The Message).

Let's go literal for a minute. As a pastor, I've stood beside the casket of many a brother and sister in Christ. I've seen the families of the deceased lean over caskets and whisper words of affection and faith. Nothing ever said, no amount of dripping tears ever shed, have altered the reaction of the deceased. It isn't that the deceased is deaf, blind, or uncaring. He's dead. Conscious elsewhere? Absolutely. The soul lives on. Conscious of earthly noise? Nada. A twenty-one gun salute in a cemetery disturbs none of its occupants.

Oh, that we could respond to temptation's noise the same way!

Paul's words in Romans 6 are strengthened by Paul's words in Colossians 3: "If then you were raised with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God. Set your mind on things above, not on things on the earth. For YOU DIED and your life is hidden with Christ in God" (3:1-3).

A Christian is camouflaged in Christ. Time means nothing in heaven. So when God sees the Christian, He sees the result of Christ's death, burial, and resurrection. From heaven's view, I died when Christ died. His victorious resurrection was mine, too.

I Reckon So,
Perry Crisp

It's Your Funeral

At a museum in Deadwood, South Dakota, tourists can read the following inscription left by a prospector: "I lost my gun. I lost my horse. I am out of food. The Indians are after me. But I've got all the gold I can carry!"

That scenario not only aptly defines the pursuits and obsessions of most Americans today, it also begs the question: "When you finally get all that you want, will it be worth what it cost?"

There's not much room in a casket. Even if your casket has a safety deposit box filled with millions or you are buried at Fort Knox, it wouldn't mean a thing to you. The only thing that will matter then is what you do with Jesus now.

Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me." By "life," Jesus means eternal life. Let's face it. You and I are headed for an unavoidable statistic: 1 out of every 1 of us will 1 day die.

People have all kinds of opinions about what happens after we die. Most of it is a lot of guesswork that is oddly empty of any homework and strangely dependent upon a stranger's opinion. We are quizzical creatures. We research every product we buy, scrutinize over every investment we make, and thoroughly examine the reliability of a toothbrush before we buy it. But when it comes to eternity, we accept popular opinion, embrace those who offer something that sounds "right" to us, and swallow a trendy philosophy because it was on Oprah. We want truth to conform to us. Who cares if it's really the other way around?

I would rather trust an Eyewitness. Someone who has been there. I'll trust the Manufacturer of life over a shade-tree philosopher. The Creator over the creature. And I'll take my chances with the One whose word has never failed. You should study His book. It makes more sense than you've been led to believe.

Jesus said, "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?"

In the end, you and I won't hope for all the gold we can carry. We will hope for a God who can carry us.

I'm thinking that old prospector wishes he would have pondered that thought a bit further.

Preparing for Finals,
Perry Crisp