The Phil Files

Hey lads and lasses, don’t forget ye’ mums on Mother’s Day this Sunday. And fer ye laddies who gaveth thee mums a hard time, like me brothers and me, here’s a touch of ye’ olde humor to remindeth thee what ye’ needeth be sayin’ — think the boys here got it pretty nary perfect.

Thanks to the Skit Guys and worshiphousemedia.com for the sneak peak of their boyish sentiments.

Sometimes, probably more often than we realize, God finds alternate ways to say what we have worked hard to say in just the right way. But if we look and listen, God will illustrate His point even more powerfully than our words or music can say and show.

I don’t know if you have seen my friend (from Compassion’s Uganda trip) Carlos Whittaker’s unrehearsed homeless partner in the park when he went to shoot a recording of a song from his newest album, God of Second Chances. I encourage you to watch and listen all the way through and then see if God doesn’t surprise you as you seek to communicate His glory in the everyday places of your world.

For more of Carlos, go take a peak at Ragamuffin Soul and here are the Lyrics to the song!

We humbly respond
To the call of Your love
Gracious Father
Like a child we run
With our arms lifted up
So let the praises rise

You’re the God of second chances
You’re the God who still romances
We’re in awe before You now
And our hearts are bowing down
You’re the God of all the ages
Who are we that You would save us
We’re in awe before You now
And our hearts are crying out

Hallelujah to our God
Hallelujah to our God

Righteous Savior
By Your wounds we are healed
Your compassion draws us here
How amazing
Is the mercy of the Cross
That You would reach out for us
So let the praises rise

You rescue with unfailing love
Hallelujah to our God

The last week at the Masters found two former champions on opposite ends of the media frenzy. Both had been away from the game four or five months the last year. Both were well known and accomplished. Both had concerns at home with their wives. But the difference came down to this: the one who got most of the attention was not the one who took off time to be with his wife because of health reasons, but the one who had well publicized indiscretions.

We can rant and rave about how unfair it was for the bad news husband to get the majority of attention while the one who stayed by his wife won and garnered less attention. The media is making up for that with unrealistic characterizations of both. But the real scandal here is not with the press or the players or the hated media.

The problem is with us!

We are a culture grown fat on the feeding frenzies over fallen celebrities. We have an appetite for “reality” news which is really the tripe and crud of others — their broken lives and reputations spewed out in tabloid, celebrity brief, and pseudo-news shows.

I guess we have forgotten that gossip and slander and lumped in the same batch of sins as adultery and sexual immorality — all sins that keep us out of the kingdom of God!

I guess we have forgotten that just because we say it on Facebook doesn’t make it any less gossip or sinful. High tech doesn’t dismiss the principles Jesus commanded us to use in Matthew 18 or alleviate the gravity of talking about someone without talking to them about our concerns.

I guess we have forgotten that reading malicious tidbits of gossip are just as destructive to our spirits whether they come from National Enquirer, Us, or People.

I guess we have forgotten that to take delight, or even passing interest, in the cruel details of someone’s life coming apart is to participate and perpetuate their sin, soiling our souls and killing something precious and redemptive inside us — the work of the Holy Spirit (see Ephesians 4:30 and the surrounding context Ephesians 4:29-5:5).

So how about tonight when we say our nightly prayers, we pray for Tiger and Elin and Phil and Amy, and few folks we know that have been on the gossip clothesline in our church or school. And when we pray, let’s pray for healing and hope, renewal and reconciliation, long life and loving marriages. And while we are on our knees, let’s also pray for our forgiveness for participating in the shredding of others lives through destructive talk or delighted listening and reading about someone’s misfortunes.

A friend finished a note to me with the following tag:

Duct Tape is the “Force” … it has a Light side and a Dark side, and it binds the universe together.

At first, I saw this statement as clever — it even gave me a bit of a chuckle. But then another realization set in. I don’t know about you, but sometimes I need some of that duct tape for broken things that the world can’t see. I could put the dark side out to seal out the darkness and its painful effects, and I could put the light side in to hold together what is broken, stuff that needs a little light to keep hopes alive.

Down here in Texas, we fix everything with duct tape, superglue, and a sharpie. The first two are used to tape and mend, the sharpie is used to write our name on it so folks know who owns what’s broken. I don’t know why it is so hard for us to own what is broken about ourselves. All I do know is that I’m thankful that when I look at everything of mine that is broken that I signed with my name, given a few days, my signature is transformed into Jesus’ signature. If I let him, he will own my brokenness. He’s my duct tape. He’s faced the dark side and yet darkness could not claim his light and he really does hold the universe together.

He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.  And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him,  and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross. (Colossians 1:17-20 tniv)

So, Lord Jesus, please use a little duct tape on me!

“They” say that I’m ADD. That’s more than a little frustrating. What “they” mean is that I don’t go from point A to point B in a straight line, doing things in the way and in the order that “they” want me to do them.

Sure, I don’t read one book at a time, but 3 or 4 or 6 or 7 — except on vacation when I read novels in a day. Yes, I have three computers on, all with 3 or 4 programs open, and I’m using all of them, instead of just one. When I clean or straighten up, I don’t check things off neatly in order, but I do everything all at once. Sometimes, OK most of the time, I take quite a bit longer to get finished, but I always get more things done and more thoroughly … when I finally get around to them.

And on those other things I’m supposed to get done, well at the end of the day, or the end of the week, or at the end of the time allotted, I nearly always get more done, more read, and a whole lot more experienced along the way than the average point A to point B person that I drive crazy while I’m doing it!

I’m not sure how it is in your world, but life doesn’t happen in neat little columns and rows in my world. Stuff happens unexpectedly and lists get blown up or made irrelevant by more important things that happen along the way. Sure, lists are necessary. I live by them. If I lose my Droid and can’t get to my Google Calender, I’m hopelessly lost on what to do next and what to do when. Lists are necessary to help me know when I’m finished and to help me to not forget and to help me to have a sense of going somewhere. But lists can’t be straight jackets or detailed maps. They’re more like general itineraries to help me know the main stops along the way, but I get to choose the places I enter, the sites I see, the flowers I smell, and the vendors I share a laugh with. The list, my itinerary, is no more the journey than the snapshot is the experience.

Now I’m sure you may not agree, and if you do not agree, you are in the majority who think people like me are warped, weird, and need to be straightened out — at least when going from point A to point B. And that’s cool if it works for you, but it sure doesn’t ADD up in my world.

Enjoy the journey!

Today (Wednesday, March 3), I am traveling back to Austin where I will help with the funeral of Jackson Bradley, famous golf teaching pro and devoted follower of Jesus. Jackson passed away after a rich full life of playing on the PGA tour, being a famous golf instructor, being club pro at some of the most cherished golf courses in the country, and using the last two decades of his life to share Jesus with people he loved. One of his greatest joys was in helping begin Bible studies at a halfway house that eventually became Freedom Church, a church plant made up predominantly of ex-offenders who were turning their lives around with the help of Christ.

After the post on Lynn Anderson yesterday and while preparing for the funeral message for today, I came across this powerful insight written by Miles Alpern Levin, about a month after he was diagnosed with cancer. His blog on carepages.com inspired many and I couldn’t think of a more appropriate message to share for all of us!

I went to the driving range the other day and I was thinking … I was thinking how you start out with a big bucket full of golf balls, and you just start hitting away carelessly. You have dozens of them, each individual ball means nothing to you so just hit, hit, hit. One ball gone is practically inconsequential when subtracted from the your bottomless bucket. There are no practice swings or technique re-evaluations after a bad shot, because so many more tries remain. Yet eventually you start to have to reach down towards the bottom of the bucket to scavenge for another shot and you realize that tries are running out. Now with just a handful left, each swing becomes more meaningful. The right technique becomes more crucial, so between each shot you take a couple practice swings and a few deep breaths. There is a very strong need to end on a good note, even if every preceding shot was terrible, getting it right at the end means a lot. You know as you tee up your last ball, “This is my final shot, I want to crush this with perfection: I must make this count.” Limited quantities or limited time brings a new, precious value and significance to anything you do. Live every day shooting as if it’s your last shot, I know I have to.”  — Miles Alpern Levin, July 7, 2005.

I know Jackson would have quibbled with Miles — well actually, he would have been much firmer than quibbling — about wasting all those practice shots early in the bucket of balls. “Don’t want to groove that bad swing and ingrain those bad habits!”

Jackson wanted you to loosen up with some short shots, then he wanted you to waste nothing — not one ball in the bucket. But, we all do, don’t we. We all mess up, goober up, stumble, sin, flub up, hit a shank or two, and then we notice the bucket of balls is getting thin on balls. I know Jackson had regrets — times and people he wished he could go back and do better with. But I am most thankful that the years I knew Jackson, he lived life recognizing the preciousness of grace and the opportunity to make a difference.

And yes, Jackson, I still shank one from time-to-time because of that square to square curl the three fingers on the back swing thing that you despised and tried so hard to help me get out of my swing. Blessings, dear brother, I’ll catch you on the back the nine, where our swings will be natural, the iced tea will be sweet, and nobody will ever need to improve their lie.