Wanting More than Food

Knowing the cook can be an even greater pleasure than enjoying his food.
-Larry Crabb, Finding God

Regardless of a person’s circumstances and physical well-being, this statement applies. Of course there’s nothing wrong with enjoying the food. But knowing and tasting God is the point. How quickly I forget. For the most part, God exists and becomes a help in solving problems. A resource to notify when pain needs to be taken away. Much like a doctor who prescribes medication.

Listen to your prayers throughout the day. Are they centered on “God, this situation is hard, help me clear it up and get through it,” or “God, I don’t know what to do and the pain is real. Help me to trust that you are good regardless of what the outcome is”? When in pain or struggle, I tend to approach someone older and wiser in an attempt to have my pain cured or problem solved. Just get me through this and stop the hurt. How many counselors make their living off situations like these?

We all desire Life. Jesus promises it (John 10:10). It just doesn’t happen the way we want it to. My God, how maddening. The chaos of life threatens our homes built on the sand. How sweet of a resting place it would be to experience the following story:

You and I walk into a 5-star restaurant. Before we can give the host our name and table preference, she welcomes us by name, tells us the chef has already notified her of our arrival, and she brings us to our seats. The menu given to us is personally tailored to each of our tastes. As we look over the choices, our mouths salivating and our stomachs growling, we suddenly realize the food is not why the restaurant was built. Setting the menus down, and skipping the wine, we head towards the kitchen, this time it’s our hearts that ache. Before we even reach the doors, they swing open and the cook is running our way.

Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good!

Psalm 34:8

Poker's The Mouth

On ESPN SportsCenter there was an up close profile on a professional poker player, a guy named The Mouth. Maybe some of you have heard of him. I haven’t, until now. His story goes that he got involved with poker and gambling in 1993, and now his lives for it. He’s lived for it 13 years. During that time, he has lost over 4 million dollars, not to mention going to jail at least once. It was hard to pay total attention to the story because I was getting dressed for work. However, one statement caught me:

“Playing poker is better than sex. It is the strongest drug in the world.”

Wow. I’m a guy. I know the place sex holds on most male priority charts. Poker? Everything I was thinking, trying to find words as the show went on, searching for any words that might paint the real story right (the one of the heart), he simply spoke for me. He did as good of a job reading his own soul than anyone could have. I felt sorry for him. He gets it. He understands. And yet, he doesn’t know his way out of the dark hole; nor does he want out.

“If they had had internet poker while I was in jail, I would not have ever cared to leave.”

That paints a vivid picture for me. Chains. The darkness of a cell. Damp. The lack of human connection or relationship. Shutting others out. One phone call every now and then. I know the pull of a drug. I have lived just like him, not with poker, but with other things. I’ve spent time watching men throw money away week after week to bet on the latest college football games, only to be hundreds of dollars in debt. Addiction. What a thrill it is to experience just a few moments of ache-free living.

Another word comes to mind, one that seems to loom in a realm deeper than addiction: Adventure. We were made for it, you know. Whether we look for it in good places or bad, the design for it leads to the desire to pursue it. I have the opportunity to spend time with a good number of 11 and 12 year old boys. On average, it takes about 0.5 seconds to recognize the design and desire for adventure in them. I hear stories…blowing up fireworks, hunting for deer, shooting BB guns at each other in the back yard, riding four-wheelers (they never fail to let me know how fast they are going)…the list could go on.

I wonder what sorts of games The Mouth played when he was 11 or 12. Were his choices of adventures pure and fun then? When did he pick up his first deck of cards? Surely the first game of UNO was just for fun. Did he know the well he was digging when he bet his first dollar? What happened to his friends along the way as he kept digging? What damage was done? Does he have any friends now?

Picture Jesus sitting down to play a game of cards with him (I know some can’t fathom Christ playing cards). Not for money, just for fun. What would the table conversation be like? I said before that The Mouth knew himself just as well as anyone. But not Jesus. Would The Mouth know what to do when Jesus offered him a taste of adventure that is more real and true than the broken well in which he lives?

Claim The Life You Deserve

I read the back of a cereal box yesterday. It decreed in great bold letters, “CLAIM THE LIFE YOU DESERVE.” A picture of healthy, athletic-looking man posing a great big smile stood just under the heading. Good grief, I get all that for buying cereal? It didn’t sit well with me. I almost bought it. Not the cereal, but the message. Its appeal nearly won me over, probably because we have this belief thrown at us all the time. You deserve a great life. I think the power of the message pulls from two ideas: (1) Happiness is the goal of life, and (2) We deserve that goal.

Now the first of these John Piper would agree with, but not in the way that most people would think. Piper’s Christian Hedonism states that we are most filled with joy when God is most glorified, thus both being satisfied in the other. But even then, God being glorified is the goal, not our happiness. But I think we have the tendency to separate the two in responding to the cereal box. Try fasting for a day. I’m amazed at the words my body screams at me when it demands immediate relief. When things are hard with my wife, my mind floats off to something that can make me happier. A small piece of chocolate in the kitchen, a TV show to watch, or tasting beauty in some form. Study yourself. We operate as if gratification is the point.

Most world religions are built on contentment, answering our questions about our obvious brokenness. We think answers will satisfy. Personal contentment seems to be the answer for most people. If they have an answer, the disappointments of life can be numbed. Christianese might even say that we were made to be happy. We say we’re living for another home in heaven, but we act as if God exists to meet our needs and demands here on earth.

Paul clearly explains that we do not deserve to be happy (Romans 3:23, 6:23). Made for it, yes…deserve it, no. Maybe we should begin to see Christianity this side of heaven as not being about contentment, but rather about entering into brokenness. After all, that’s where we are in the Story. And we won’t find redemption and a longing for home until we’ve set aside our demands. Maybe if we did that, then glorifying God would become the goal. And then, maybe then, we would experience the Life we don’t deserve.

I’m going to eat some cereal.

Playboy Sex Nudity Nude Women Love Adult XXX

“Every man who knocks on the door of a brothel is looking for God”
-G.K. Chesterton

“The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust in them; it was not in them, it only came through them, and what came through them was longing. These things—the beauty, the memory of our own past—are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers.”
-C.S. Lewis

This blog is really an experiment. An experiment about the heart and its longings. It was posted to satisfy my curiosity, but who knows what God might do with it in you. During the last month, two blogs were published on this site that contained these words in their title, “Playboy, Michelle Manhart, and Adult XXX.” It was astounding to me that that this humble little blog received such an incredible amount of views on those days. Desiring Life averages 5 views per day. On the “Playboy’s Michelle Manhart” day, I think it reached close to 267 views. There were no pictures. Only words in a title.

Immediately I thought of the G.K. Chesterton quotation above. “Every man who knocks on the door of a brothel is looking for God.” The thought only comes into clearer focus with the help of C.S. Lewis. Our actions reveal our search for Life. Whether it be through eating, work, ministry, money, marriage, pornography, or sex.

I have become more and more convinced that Jesus really is the answer to every desire we have. If Christ is the image of the invisible God (Colossians 1:15), and it is God who created beauty and fashioned us to be sustained on him, then we might do well to at least think about that. The claims Jesus makes about himself all reflect our desire. The woman at the well. The rich man asked to sell everything. The disciples. The blind man at the pool. All those parables about treasure and a pearl. But what about for the man searching the internet for sex and nudity, or for the woman posing on the XXX sites?

I find it fascinating in John 7:37-38 that Jesus waited until the end of this feast to say what he does. I imagine myself and my fraternity brothers in the days leading up to a football game and the all-night party to follow. Anticipation and excitement grew with each day. People around campus would talk about it. Guests lists would be filled out. The band would arrive and set up. The kegs were brought in. After the game, the fraternity house would slowly and steadily grow louder and louder. The girls would come, scantily dressed. It seems Jesus knew the best time to offer Life to people. He waits until the end of the party, when the realization that the promising satiating activities of the night before prove to be liars.

“If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’”

ADULT XXX

What did you think when you read this title? What moved or happened in your heart? I wrote previously about a road trip Clint and I took. We kept passing these giant Adult billboards and interstate signs as we made our way through Arkansas. You know the ones, advertising a “gentlemen’s bar” and such. I felt something turn inside me when I saw the first sign from a quarter mile away. We sped on by at 70 miles an hour, but I got to thinking about the reaction in me. Upon first sight of the sign, a confidence arose in me. ADULT? That’s me. What happens inside that place is only for the mature, and so I’m mature. Because I am an ADULT. It felt powerful, like I was entitled to something that not everyone was.

I wrestled with my reaction, chastising myself for thinking about such places. Yet what happened in my heart was not necessarily bad; it just was. So I wanted to explore it a bit and get your thoughts. What occurred inside you when you read the blog’s title or when you pass such a billboard? If it is true that we are always in search of Life, in everything we do, what does your reaction say about your yearning for Life?

(I understand that if you are a woman, your reaction is probably different than a man’s, but I would still value your thoughts.)

Teacher of the Year

If you could be coached to do anything, what would it be? To take it a step further, imagine you could be coached by the greatest coach in the world at that particular skill. Would you choose leadership? Speaking? Managing a business? Acting?

Something drives all of us. We all strive to be something. Growing up, my dad took me to baseball coaches to instruct me in the art of hitting. Some of them helped more than others. I wonder how good I could have been if Tony Gwynn had been my coach. I went to basketball camps, trying to perfect my jump shot. There were lots of players there and individual attention was rare. I wonder how much I could have developed under one-on-one coaching from Duke’s Mike Krzyzewski.

Howard Hendricks got me thinking about this. He pointed out that the only thing the disciples ever asked Jesus to teach them was how to pray (Luke 11:1). Think about that for a moment. These knuckleheads are going to be left to spread the word about Jesus to the world. They will be faced with numerous challenges: teaching, starting and building churches, equipping others to disciple, writing letters, facing intellectual, spiritual, and physical opposition from Jews and Gentiles, Rome, each other, and oh yeah- Satan’s legions. And they have limited time with the greatest teacher to walk the Earth.

Yet, the only thing they want to be taught is how to pray. It is convicting to me. I strive to do and be. But I don’t always recognize what precedes anything I do or am. Connection with God is central. It’s where our identity lies. We will never outlive or outdo how we see ourselves. It seems like every time the disciples go looking for Jesus, they find him on his knees. Jesus really knew how dependent he was on connection with his Father. If I really saw that as crucial, then maybe I too would ask God to coach me in prayer.

Storm Door

I had the honor of posing to help to fix a storm door with my grandfather today. He is a master. I am, well, not even a novice. He has fixed and repaired things all his life. It was a privilege to watch someone as talented as him work.

Before we decided the door needed to be replaced, he gave it the look over and told me there was a chance he could fix it. It was up to me to choose whether I wanted to keep the old door and have it “sort of fixed”- which would inevitably mean having to fix it two years from now- or to go spend $200 on a brand new, shiny door. I was paying close attention to what was going on in my mind, trying to determine the practical decision. Yet, I was also closely following the story that was happening in my heart.

My heart began to envision a nice, brand new door on the front of the house, one like our neighbors. I wanted that. You see, for the last couple months, due to my passivity in some regards, the storm door of our home has been flying open whenever the wind blew, barley held on by the bottom hinges. It has been a pain. And it’s looked terrible. So naturally, I really got excited about a nice looking door. This could be accomplished by fixing the old one or buying a new one. But there was something more than that. I yearned for the new one, and it felt spiritual.

The whole conversation going on in my heart was a great reminder: My soul longs for restoration of all that is broken. I realized what I was feeling was much deeper than what storm door to put on my house. It had to do with heaven. So often, as I get lost in the matrix of life, I become accustomed to things breaking down. Something terrible happens: I get used to it. Do you? Think about it. How many times during the day does something break or fall apart? The car? The toaster? The microwave? The iPod? And when something breaks, aside from the frustration you feel, don’t you pass it off as something that is “just part of life”? I wonder sometimes how much business a Home Depot or Wal-Mart will do in heaven, where nothing will need fixing.

I am tired of it. My ache to have a brand new storm door revealed that yearning for a world I was made to live in, where nothing is broken. The Bible says in Revelation 21, “Behold, I am making all things new.” That’s it. That’s what this afternoon was about. For now, in this lifetime, I have to put up with fixing things. But it will not last forever. There will be a moment when Aslan goes on the move again, winter will melt away, and things will be restored as they are groaning to be (Romans 8:18-22).

But, if I have to put up with fixing things for now, it’s a blessing to do it alongside my grandpa.

A Whisper through a Song

It seems I am daily trying to make sense of life. I know what I believe, but the significance of what I believe and the actual and normal events of the day don't always seem to correlate. Seeing God clearly can seem like a rarity, along with seeing who I am, and how the whole puzzle fits together. There were times long ago, when I was little, when the occurrences of life seemed to fit together in a way that offered more excitement. I would hear the whisper of life's deep meaning. Maybe through a song. Maybe through a friend. Maybe through a day at Disney World.

Every now and then in adulthood, the whisper comes back. It did this Christmas Eve, through a song and a dancer and a stage. It spoke of a world of meaning and romance, where God is loving and near. I want to pass the song along to you. Open up iTunes or Napster and download it. It is well-worth your $o.99.

Joy Williams - Here With Us

The Father's Heart

Hello. I hope you had a wonderful Christmas. Ours was full of family, laughter, and many thoughtful gifts. One of mine was this Palm Treo phone. I don’t need it, but I love it. My dad gave it to me. But to tell you that does not do the story justice. You see, a number of Christmases back my father bought me a cheap little black-and-white Palm pilot. I played with it all morning long. The next year he brought me shopping to pick out a top-of-the-line Pocket PC. Though I knew what I was getting, he would not let me touch it until Christmas. He absolutely delighted to watch me play with it while everyone else opened presents. That Pocket PC lasted me three or fours years. Each year though, he asks if there is anything electronic he can buy for me. This year I let him. Because my dad is overjoyed to see me happy.

Last blog I suggested that dealing with the circumstances of life has everything to do with our interpretation. Along my journey, many people have contributed to my perspective. These interpreters have helped shape the conclusions I make about life. In any given person’s life, I don’t believe anyone has more influence than the father.

The Bible describes God as Father. I have an intuit sense of this thanks to experiences like this Christmas. I know what it means not only to have a father delight in me, but one overjoyed to bless me. Luke 12:32 gives a glimpse into the Father’s heart. Jesus says, “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”

Jesus knew His Father. He knew it was essential to hear the Father’s delight in Him (see Luke 3:21-22). Now it makes sense to me why he would want to pass it along to us. Something so wonderful as a father’s delight moves us to desire to pass it along to others. But before we pass it on, just like Jesus, we must enter in and know the Father’s heart for us.

Entering In (Part 2)

A week ago my wife and I attended a concert by a guy named Andrew Peterson. Andrew’s first song begins at the beginning of the Story, then traces God’s pursuit of humanity down through the kings and prophets and then to Jesus. In essence, the music tells the Larger Story, the drama of God’s workings since time started. But I missed it. I didn’t enter in. I listened and I analyzed. I tried to intellectually grasp the narrative and fit it into a box that could fully be understood.

It makes sense to me now why Paul says what he does in Colossians 2:1-2, “For I want you to know how great a struggle I have for you…to reach…the knowledge of God’s mystery, which is Christ.” It’s ironic to me that he uses the word “knowledge.” I don’t think he means that in a heady sense. To me, knowledge here means entering into an experience, like a relationship.

Try it today. Watch a movie, read a book, read the Bible, talk to a friend. Don’t analyze or think too much. Enter in. Ask God to show you His heart and invite you into the experience of it all.

Entering In (Part 1)

I just watched The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe for the second time. Wow. It moved me to tears multiple times. There is Peter, the boy whose real identity is High King, a warrior; though, it takes him awhile to step into his calling. He doesn’t fully come to believe who he is until he looks into the eyes of Aslan, who believes in Peter more than he believes in himself. I saw myself in Edmond, the boy whose betrayal requires a sacrifice of proportions he could not have fathomed. Then there is Lucy, the small girl who possesses a heart for Aslan that is so sensitive to the lion’s presence, touch, and words.

My desires and longings played out in different scenes. The children enter Aslan’s camp, surely feeling the anticipation of meeting the king. Pater walks with Aslan to the top of a cliff, sword in hand, and hears him speak words of identity. My soul was shaken when the battle lines formed and the screaming eagle/lions led the attack. Each scene spoke of transcendent meaning - that there is more going on than can be seen.

The main thing that struck me was that this Larger Story or Meta-narrative is meant to be experienced. You may have felt like you knew what I was talking about when you read the previous paragraphs. But if so, the thought probably came from your mind, not your heart. All of which to say that you were most likely not experiencing, but rather comprehending in the cerebral sense. Even as I write this blog, I have shifted into the mind rather than the heart. Something as mythic as entering into a deeply true Story cannot be written down without losing its power.

That is often how I live out the gospel. I read the Bible, enjoy friendships, read many books, and listen to teachings. I think and study hard in hopes of grasping the gospel. It is hard work, mostly because the mystery of Christ is just that. A mystery. My efforts are mainly the result of foolishness; something in me hopes I can fit the Larger Story into a box that can be fully explained and seen at all times.

(This is part 1 of two-part post. Part 2 will be posted tomorrow)

Taco Bell

Road trips…I miss them. I didn’t take enough of them in college and now that I’m out, I realize there will be fewer and fewer of them as I get older. My friend Clint and I took off for Fayetteville, Arkansas, hoping to find tickets to the Tennessee Volunteer-Arkansas Razorback football game. I love the Vols, but they weren’t the reason I went. I went in search of connection with another heart I respect.

As we traveled, we naturally began to get hungry, and seeing as this was a guy’s trip and our wives were not with us, we figured this was a rare chance to enjoy the cuisine of Taco Bell. As we waited for our food, three middle aged Hispanic women came in. As I often do, they stopped a couple steps before the ordering spot and began mulling over the menu options…conversing in Spanish.

How interesting. Here Clint and I were, in the middle of a Spanish community, with a booming Mexican population, where there is no shortage of authentic Mexican restaurants. I live in Nashville and there are at least 20 of them in every 10 square mile radius. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but all these authentic Mexican restaurants are operated by native Hispanics who make some great food. It struck me as incredibly odd and confusing that these three woman were choosing to eat at Taco Bell, a totally Americanized imitation of Mexican food, when they could be eating somewhere authentic. I mean, they could probably throw something together in their kitchen at home that would be more genuinely Mexican than Taco Bell.

And yet, there they were. Trying to figure out whether to order the $1.39 Gordita or the Double Decker. I wonder if it even occurred to them that they could travel a little further down the road to sit down to a plate of rice, beans, and two enchiladas cooked by someone whose parents were born in Mexico City.

And then it hit me…I am them.

I love the scene in Braveheart when William Wallace chastises some of his fellow Scottish leaders for wanting too little. Schotland’s leaders are content to be paid well by the English king rather than fighting for a country of their own. He screams, “Your so concerned with squabbling for the scraps from Longshanks’ table that you've missed your God given right to something more!”

That’s it. That’s me. I am the same as the women at Taco Bell. God offers me a better quality of life than I can imagine, and yet I go on living life with my head down, digging my own wells where I can sit and enjoy a moment of ache-free living. I can do this with my wife, my friends, my job, fantasy sports, and Tennessee football.

One of my favorite authors, a guy named Larry Crabb, is beginning to convince me that I was made for no greater purpose than entering into a joyous relationship with the Father, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. He describes the Trinity as being a party that we are invited to join. Yet, so often I find myself reading the Scriptures, reading other spiritual books, and praying, not with connection with God in mind, but instead, my own growth as a Christian and any ministry God might be privileged to include me in. I settle for less than God offers. I am a Mexican standing in line at Taco Bell.

Yet, I am convicted. Thankfully Jesus has given me a taste for something more authentic than the small stories I create. The taste is none other than God. David once said in Psalm 34:8, “Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good!” I want that. There are times, every now and then, when I do taste Him. And oh is it worth it. Other times, I wander and journey, struggling to stay away from the fast food imitations. I often fail. Yet, I travel, because I know that those times of tasting the Bread of Life are worth the road trip.

Desiring Life

It’s been a hard week. Work has been busy and nights have been fully scheduled. Time to reflect, read, and pray have been scarce. Just this afternoon, I returned home, read for thirty minutes, then realized I had a half hour until it would be time to go...again. I felt rushed, pressed, and stressed. I was not going to be able to do everything that needed to be done to satisfy my heart’s demands. I felt the urge to go pray. Thankfully, I followed it.

Something in me encouraged my heart to pray quickly: I still had to publish a blog. I couldn’t believe the conniving of my heart. I so often view satisfying Life as getting everything done that I schedule for the day. Writing a blog fit into today’s plans. Completing that would be a step towards fulfilled aspiration. Then I pictured the blog’s title, Desiring Life. Fortunately, I was reminded. I am after real Life, not the life that I arrange for myself.

Jesus talked about real Life being the experience of knowing the Father and Him. He prays about it in John 17:3. Real life is not reading the quota of Scripture that I set for myself each morning; it’s not praying for a certain number of times each day. It’s not writing a deeply spiritual book. Although all these things can be good, when they become the point, bad things happen.

I feel rescued. My focus tonight has shifted. I was reminded of Jesus and a discussion with some Pharisees in John 5:39-40. I am often a Pharisee. I study and memorize Scripture as if it is the point. Jesus rebukes them, and me. “You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me, yet you refuse to come to me that you may have life.”

Tonight, I want Life. Not my version, but the Real kind. I asked God to walk with me and show me that the experience of relating well with them really is the point.