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Practice Kindness

Tim Jackson —  June 18, 2013 — Leave a comment

I’m constantly stunned by how inconsiderate and selfish people are becoming. Rudeness seems to be the new epidemic in human interactions. What’s equally disturbing is that everyone seems to accept it. We’ve come to expect unkindness as the new norm.

People don’t look each other in the eye either. Frankly, it’s much easier to be rude to someone you don’t bother looking at. Why? Well, if you see a person, I mean really see him or her as another person who is a living, breathing reflection of the invisible God, it’s much more difficult to be dismissive. If you keep it impersonal, you can remain aloof and maintain your “whatever,” “it-is-what-it-is” attitude as you walk right by focused on doing your own thing and not caring about anyone else. It’s this intentional refusal to connect that allows you to view others as just another something in your way instead of someone you just walked on to get where you wanted to go.

Recently, I overheard a caller on a local radio station bragging about her vanity license plate that reads ALLABOUTME. She was proud to say that when a questioning driver pulled up next to her at a signal light and inquired through the car window, “Is that really true?” her response was “H*ll yea!” And frankly, she’s not alone.

When it’s all about us, we don’t have time to be kind. Honestly, we don’t even notice opportunities to be kind. It simply does not cross our minds, revealing that for most of us, it really is all about us. Ugh!

And that’s why the call to kindness in the Bible is so counter to the way we think as individuals and how we live together as a society.

In what many have come to see as the greatest description of 5026716018_80b8b4af2e_zlove ever written, Paul penned “love is kind” (1 Cor. 13:4). Kindness is the byproduct of love. Listen as he describes the characteristics of a loving heart:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails (1 Cor. 13:4-8).

How much different would our world be right now, today, if we simply practiced kindness? What would happen if we started looking people in the eye and treating them with kindness, like they really mattered? Would the whole world change? Probably not. But I can certainly tell you that at least two lives would be changed: Yours and the recipient of your kindness.

Kindness Street SignaAnd if enough of us practice kindness regularly, who knows what might happen. A new epidemic of kindness? I sure hope so.

So here’s my challenge: Practice kindness.

Be intentional about being kind. And then post your stories of sharing kindness and how it’s changing you. But also share the responses from those on the receiving end of your kindness.

I’m in. Are you?

 

 

We Are Vulnerable

Tim Jackson —  April 22, 2013 — Leave a comment

If last Monday’s events at the Boston Marathon reminded us of anything—it’s that we’re all susceptible to some form of attack or injury, be it physical, financial, emotional, relational, or spiritual. We all suffer wounds as we navigate through life.

To be vulnerable means we are susceptible. The Latin root for the word vulnerable is vulner[are] meaning, “to wound.”

When I get into my car to head home after posting this blog I will face vulnerability. I could be hurt, maimed, or killed in a senseless car accident on the way home. That’s my reality–my vulnerability. It may not be at the hands of a madman with a bomb or an airplane diverted into a building. Instead, my wound might be inflicted by a careless teenager texting while driving. Wounds inflicted through no fault of our own are devastating no matter how, when, where, what, or who the source is.

No one can predict the future with any kind of clarity. I want to see things coming at me so I can prepare and protect myself and those I love from them. But I haven’t been given that kind of clarifying vision.

We are vulnerable because we live in a hazardous and hostile world. And that’s a frightening thought.

But how will we choose to deal with our fear? Some of us may become hypervigilant, seeking to minimize or eliminate all danger. Others choose to deny that we’re vulnerable–creating the self-induced illusions of invincibility or false security. Or we learn to depend on Someone greater than ourselves who will help us face with courage and grace anything that threatens to harm us.

The writer of Psalm 56 was David. Israel’s beloved king knew firsthand what it was like to be vulnerable in the presence of his enemies. Later, when he remembered those terrorizing events, he penned these words: “When I am afraid, I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can mortal man do to me?” (Psalm 56:3,4)

When I’m vulnerable, I need to remember that I’m not alone in my vulnerability. And neither are you. As God was with David, He is with us.

When I’m talking with someone who has been deeply betrayed by a friend, a family member, or a coworker, they often ask, “How can I ever trust him again? He said he was sorry, but how do I know if he is truly sorry about the damage he’s done or if he’s just sorry he got caught? I don’t want to get burned again.”

Those are tough questions, because there’s a lot at stake for both the betrayer and the betrayed.

Rebuilding trust in a relationship after a bitter betrayal almost feels like an insurmountable task. No one in his right mind would dare trust a spouse who was unfaithful, a coworker who stole his good idea, or a friend who lied about him behind his back. Would you?

But what if that person apologizes? Then what? How can you know if someone has truly repented?

As Jesus’ followers, we talk about repentance—that radical change of heart and mind that alters one’s perspective and reshapes behavior patterns to look more like Jesus.  It’s been a part of the Jesus story from the beginning. John the Baptist referred to it as “producing fruit in keeping with repentance” (Matt. 3:8; Luke 3:8).

Testing repentance is vital to rebuilding trust in a broken relationship. So what are some of the signs of a repentant heart?

King David—a man whose deceit betrayed his wife and his nation—said it best: “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, You will not despise” (Ps. 51:17).

One place to begin looking for “fruit” that reveals a deeply rooted heart of repentance is in how the repentant betrayer responds when questioned. A repentant person demonstrates a humble attitude that is neither demanding nor defensive when questioned. There is an openness that replaces deceit, a willingness to be accountable for his or her actions on multiple levels without resorting to blaming others or making excuses for failures.

It’s only through experiencing a consistency in both attitudes and actions that reflect repentance that the betrayed individual will over time begin to take the risky steps towards trusting again.

How much time? As much as it takes.

And the repentant person will humbly wait for as long as it takes, knowing that the celebration over restoration will be a sweet harvest for both parties—a harvest that repentance and forgiveness has made possible because of Jesus’ example.

“Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret” (2 Cor. 7:10).

October Baby

Jeff Olson —  January 31, 2013 — Leave a comment

Over the weekend I watched the film October Baby. It tells the story of a college-aged girl named Hannah whose world is turned upside down after she discovers she is the adopted survivor of a failed abortion.

This story about a girl whose life almost wasn’t is a powerful film on forgiveness. Hannah had to wrestle through strong bitter feelings and forgive several people before she could move on with her life.

The film’s grace-filled, non-condemning treatment of Hannah’s biological mother, who had attempted to abort her, was also a surprising breath of fresh air. Women who suffer the heartache of having had an abortion may find watching this film to be a very healing experience.

Something Hannah’s adoptive dad shared with her near the end of the movie also stuck with me. Hannah’s discovery and search for her birth mother caused a lot of tension between the two of them, which he often didn’t handle well. As they stood next to each other at the graveside of the twin brother Hannah never knew she had, her dad confessed,

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s that I’m trying honestly to learn to trust God again.”

Leaving things we care about in God’s capable and loving hands is a most important lesson for us all to learn.

The Fear of Love

Tim Jackson —  July 23, 2012 — 8 Comments

I recently chatted with a young woman who survived growing up in a dangerous home with an evil father. Oh, he looked normal enough to outsiders—kept a job, paid the bills, went to church, and played the part for the public—but in private, he was a cruel, sadistic beast who preyed upon the insecurities of his wife and children.

How did she survive? She became a runner. She learned how to outdistance the problem, literally and emotionally.

In junior and senior high school, she ran track. She was a fierce competitor. She’d had lots of practice. Putting distance between herself and a threatening adversary became second nature not only on the track, but also off the track in her relationships.

Now that she’s found a good man who—unlike her dad—can be trusted, she’s discovered that she just can’t stop running. She readily admits the undeniable longing for love deeply embedded in her heart. But while that desire entices her, it terrifies her even more!

Why? Because she’s realizing that running has become a way of life.

The truth is, all relationships are risky and have the potential for both pain and pleasure. Running is her way to manage that potential for pain in her relationships. Admittedly, it helped her survive an abusive situation, but now it’s sabotaging her potential for joy in a relationship with a man who truly loves her.

It’s her fear of love that’s paralyzing her from moving forward.

John Eldredge wrote in Wild at Heart, “The only thing more tragic than the tragedy that happens to us is the way we handle it” (p. 106).

Oddly enough, for many it’s the fear of losing love that shuts love down before it even has a chance to take root and grow.

This young woman’s fear of intimacy, of getting close, of finally being loved paralyzes her heart, preventing her from exchanging her running shoes for a pair of dancing shoes.

For many who have suffered the torment of growing up in an abusive home, their capacity to trust others to deeply love and care for them and not leave them is greatly diminished. They find it next to impossible to believe anyone will stay in their lives for an extended time, much less for a lifetime. They are always waiting for the other shoe to drop, dashing their hopes for a meaningful relationship yet again.

The solution for many is, “Just don’t get close to anyone. Outdistance the pain. Never commit. Keep moving, and you’ll never feel the pain of abandonment or abuse again.”

Unfortunately it works for a while . . . with some of the pain. But it’s a thief. It steals. It kills. And it destroys one’s opportunity to playfully splash around in the refreshing waters of committed love.

But there is hope. The antidote to our fear is perfect love. The problem is we are not perfectly loved. Or are we?

John, the apostle of love, said it best: “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear” (1 John 4:18 NIV). It’s God’s perfect love for us that can infuse us with the courage necessary to take the risk of loving others. And that’s the antidote that can transform any of us from “runners” to “lovers.” John’s words are a necessary reminder when we panic and start lacing up our running shoes. “We love because he first loved us” (1 John 4:19).

So, what shoes are you wearing these days? Running shoes or dancing shoes? I love to hear your thoughts and stories.

 

 

The Irony of Tears

Tim Jackson —  July 11, 2012 — 1 Comment

On Sunday evening I celebrated the wedding of my son and his bride. The whole weekend was one filled with meaningful interactions with dear friends, family, and my son and his new wife. I will treasure those memories forever.

But earlier that morning when I checked my email, my heart sank. I read the email from a dear friend and colleague that his dad had lost his battle with cancer at 1:47 that same morning.

The irony was unmistakable. And I felt torn.

One family rejoices over the beginning of a new relationship. The other family grieves over the loss of a relationship. One celebrates at a wedding. The other weeps at a funeral. One celebrates over a young couple making vows with so much promise ahead. The other laments over the man who kept his promise to his wife for 62 years.

And, yes, there were plenty of tears at both celebrations.

The irony is that for those who trust in the God of the Bible, whether they are tears of joy or tears of grief, both are anchored in hope.

The hope of a new life together as a married couple crosses the threshold of a wedding ceremony is the same hope that fuels the anticipation of the joyful reunion of a new life after one walks through death’s door.

The apostle Paul’s exhortation to “rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep” (Rom. 12:15) makes no sense unless it is rooted in the hopeful promise of redemption (Rom. 8:20-24). It’s that hope that doesn’t disappoint us, because it’s anchored in the love that God pours into our hearts by His indwelling Holy Spirit (Rom. 5:5).

It’s the love of our God that sustains our hope and frees us to honestly face the ironies of life—to both celebrate with those who are celebrating and to grieve with those who are mourning. Hope empowers us to embrace both.

 

 

The Final Enemy

Tim Jackson —  April 27, 2012 — 10 Comments

“The last enemy to be destroyed is death.” (1 Cor. 15:26)

Those words have been stuck in my head these last two weeks–and the reminders are everywhere.

As you read in last week’s beautiful post by my fellow blogger Allison about the unexpected death of her sister Jodi, death still seems to be winning. The previous week marked what would have been my dad’s 86th birthday. We lost him last July, just 8 weeks after my mom lost her battle with cancer on June 3rd. Her birthday on May 1st is not a day I’m looking forward to, nor is Mother’s Day.

And as I write, my friend and co-worker in the cubicle next to me is watching vigil with his family gathered at the bedside of his elderly mother who is slipping away into eternity. The eerie parallels to last May for my family are uncomfortably familiar.

Death stinks! I hate it. It’s a ruthless enemy. I know it’s the last enemy to be destroyed before Jesus starts making everything new. I, for one, can’t wait.

In his vision of the way things will someday be, John wrote of it this way:

“‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.’ He who was seated on the thrown said, ‘I am making everything new!’ Then he said, ‘Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.’” (Rev. 21:4-5)

The real deal is that someday, death will be decisively crushed under the heel of Jesus Christ, the One who tasted death for us all so that we too can share in His victory dance.

“‘Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting.’ The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Cor. 15:54-57)

So, until that day when we will dance on the grave of death with our Lord, let’s embrace one another with words of comfort, prayers of support and acts of compassion in our times of loss, sorrow and grief.

For more on facing death, check out Michael Wittmer’s The Last Enemy.

Just Tell the Truth. Please.

Tim Jackson —  February 27, 2012 — 7 Comments

I don’t know about you, but I’m so fed up with the shenanigans and the mudslinging attacks of the political climate in this major election year that I just turn it all off. I’m sorry, but I’m tired of the lies. Whether it’s shading the truth, telling half-truths, not telling the whole truth, or just outright bold-faced lies, I’m sickened by it all.

Would somebody please just tell the truth!?!

In his opening lines in a letter of encouragement to a young church leader he was mentoring, the apostle Paul penned these words: “for the faith of God’s elect and the knowledge of the truth that leads to godliness—a faith and knowledge resting on the hope of eternal life, which God, who does not lie, promised before the beginning of time” (Titus 1:1-2).

In our desperate hour, the only hope we have of authentic truth is the non-lying God. All others—even those we love who are well-intentioned—will eventually fail us. God alone can be trusted to tell us the truth—always. While at times we may struggle to embrace the truth He speaks, God was, is, and will always be truthful, faithful, and loving. That’s simply who He is. He can do nothing less.

Call me a skeptic or maybe even a cynic at times, but I’m just not hopeful of hearing much truth spoken during political campaigns. Not from either camp. But I’m confident that I can count on the non-lying Jesus who came to speak “grace and truth” (John 1:14) to restore our hope when all feels lost.

So, no matter what happens in the predictably uncertain world of politics and world affairs, don’t lose heart (John 16:33). If you have lost heart, I encourage you to refocus on the One who is the Truth, the non-lying God.

 

The Marriage Killer

Jeff Olson —  February 3, 2012 — 6 Comments

Nagging is a marriage killer. So says a study reported in the recent Wall Street Journal article—“Meet the Marriage Killer.”

The article defines the nagging problem as the “interaction in which one person repeatedly makes a request, the other person repeatedly ignores it and both become increasingly annoyed.”

The article goes on to point out that every couple experiences nagging to some degree, but it can grow to “be as potentially dangerous to a marriage as adultery or bad finances.” A couple will start bickering about the nagging and never address what is underneath the nagging. In time, this type of “toxic communication” can “sink the relationship.”

Is nagging ruining your marriage? Admit the conflict! The good news is that couples can grow and learn how to curb the nagging and replace it with mutual love and respect. But they first need to recognize and acknowledge they are stuck in a bad pattern.

Together, and often with the help of a trusted guide, spouses can start to work towards listening and understanding where each other is coming from. They can learn to talk through feelings and needs in ways that can help them consider how to love one another more. Accusations and demands for change can start to be replaced with non-demanding expressions and requests of what each spouse legitimately needs from the other.

Watch a short video below by Dr. Larry Crabb on handling conflict in your marriage.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QHj-BtyAve8]

Demandingness (Part 1)

Tim Jackson —  January 25, 2012 — 3 Comments

Are you a demanding? Do you have any demanding people in your life? Underlying the struggles in most relationships is a vein of demandingness that erodes the potential for love and justifies all the hurtful things we do to each other.

All of us, if we’re honest, struggle with being demanding at times–and probably more times than we care to admit. Of course it’s not all the time. But we sure are some of the time.

When?

Well, it’s when we revert to the 2-year-old-temper-tantrum mode that sounds something like this: “I want what I want when I want it and you had better do all you can to comply with my demands or else!” The Apostle James accurately describes it in James 4:1-3.

Okay, who among us hasn’t witnessed a young parent held hostage in the isle of a grocery store or better yet, a toy store, where their darling child has just backed them against the ropes with a not so subtle demand for a certain sugary treat or toy? You know what I mean? Transport that image a few decades later and you’ll better understand what lies beneath much of the turmoil in adult relationships.

Bottom line, what is at the heart of this little child’s (and your and my) demandingness? It’s a total absorption with self to the exclusion of any concern for what others may desire or need. Mommy doesn’t matter to the child in the isle. It’s the cookie or toy that matters most at that moment. Yes, it’s immature. It’s me-focused and it’s where we all start.

Distill adult demandingness (some call it entitlement) down to it’s core and you discover this same foolish belief: “I deserve and must find a way to make my life work on my terms apart from the God I neither trust, believe in or depend on to take care of me.” Do you hear all the first person pronouns in that statement? It’s all about “me!” It’s the core narcissism woven into the fallen fabric of our DNA at birth that inevitably it leads to self-destruction and the destruction of all meaningful relationships.

So, are you demanding? Do you see it? Take a closer look. Listen. What you discover might surprise and disturb you. But don’t let that stop you. Becoming aware is the first step in making a meaningful change in your life.