Introducing Grace to Glory, Inc.

I took a big plunge last week. I pulled the trigger on something I've been praying/dreaming/wrestling over for what seems like a long time. I've begun the process of establishing a new ministry presence in Ellijay that will give an identity to what we do. I'm calling it Grace to Glory, Inc. Let me take the opportunity to explain the significance of our logo, as It combines in a picture several of the scripture passages that have come to mean the most to us and will help to clarify the dream of Grace to Glory.

"Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit." Jeremiah 17:7-8

Our dream is to see people...

1) Grow in their trust in the Lord, trusting first of all that His heart is always good towards us. Did you ever stop to think about the fact that when everything was as God intended, we as a human race had no concept of evil or the absence of God and good. And what was the one thing that God commanded us not to do? Don't eat from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Our Father is so good, so loving, so protective that He didn't even want us to know there could be an absence of good/evil. Whoa.

2) Develop roots that tap into Him as the only source of life. Worship is not singing songs. Worship is what we bow down to when we are looking to be filled, to feel alive. There is only one source that satisfies, and that is the everflowing, unfailing love of our Father, and the limitlelss grace extended through Jesus Christ.

3) Become disciples who know Christ, not only as Savior, but as Life. As each of us begin to embrace our own brokenness and inability to bear fruit that lasts when we rely on our own strength, and surrender to Christ's limitless ability to establish the Kingdom of God through us, our lives will always bear fruit even in our most difficult days.

"The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion - to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. The will be called oaks of righeousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor." Isaiah 61:1-3

I love knowing that this passage was the first scripture Jesus read when he began his public ministry, declaring that it was being fulfilled in the people's hearing. I love knowing that Jesus was declaring his mission to be one of healing and restoring: healing our hearts, the core of who we are, our identity, and restoring us to live a life that brings glory to His Father. I am most alive when I am engaged in joining Him in his mission.

May Grace to Glory see many people experience and embrace His radical grace!

"To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorisou riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory." Colossians 1:27

Freedom TO and then Freedom FROM

This past Sunday morning, Michelle and I decided to stay home and have some time with our sons. It was a gorgeous morning, so we moved everyone out to one of our favorite places in the world, our screened-in back porch. The kids all groaned when they saw me bringing out the guitar. "Awww, Dad, c'mon. We're not singing!" I also brought out a stack of bibles for everyone and copies of chapter 48 of Larry Crabb's "66 Love Letters" in which he records his conversation with Father about each book of the bible, this one regarding Paul's letter to the Galatians. We read Galatians 5 together, then discussed Crabb's "journal entry." What he believed to have heard Father say to him about the letter rang very true with me.

He starts the conversation like this:

"God, one verse in Your next letter has frustrated me since I first heard it years ago in Sunday school. In Galatians 5:16, You tell me that if I 'live by the Spirit,' I won't gratify the desires of the sinful nature.' I've been fighting a win-lose battle with temptation ever since I tried not to look at Ricky Murphy's spelling test answers in fourth grade. I lost that battle and am losing lots of others, right up until now. If that verse hides the secret of how not to indulge sinful desires, I've not yet found it."

I wish I could relay the whole conversation. As one who has walked intimately and authentically with many brothers and sisters, apparently we all share these questions: "When are we going to experience the freedom Christ has paid for and given us? Why do I still find myself having days that seem dominated by the old flesh rather than reflective of my new Spirit?"

Father pointed Crabb to the words of Puritan pastor, John Owen who said,

"The Christian may be like a ship tossed in a storm. Nobody on board may be aware that the ship is making any headway at all. Yet it is sailing on at great speed. Great winds and storms help fruit-bearing trees. So also do corruptions and temptations help the fruitfulness of grace and holiness...corruptions and temptations develop the fruit of humility, self-abasement and mourning in a deeper search for the grace by which holiness grows strong. But only later will there be visible fruits of increased holiness."

Then Crabb heard Father speak these words to his heart:

"Gospel freedom means to neither indulge your whims nor keep My rules. Whim-indulgers and rule-keepers are slaves to the corruption within them that demands a kind of satisfaction My Son will not provide for you in this life. My Son has set you free to love, to believe I am good and that the good story I am telling is unfolding under His control. Faith in Me and hope for tomorrow frees you to love today. And loving with divine power releases a kind of joy into your soul that nothing else can bring."

And here is Crabb's response:

"God, I think I'm hearing You. Trying hard to follow all Your rules creates both pride and pressure that set the stage for addictively wanting the relief that addictions provide, an illusory but strangely satisfying relief that feels necessary and, therefore, justified. That's 'the great winds and storms' that Owen spoke of, the corruptions and temptations that are inevitable. You're not freeing me to keep on sinning so You can keep on forgiving, but you do want me to live in the freedom of knowing that You will keep on forgiving when I keep on sinning. I'm not free to do everything right - I can't. And I'm not free to do whatever makes me feel complete - that's wrong. But I am free to love. And exercising that freedom releases joy that provides power to resist the appeal of lesser but still strongly appealing satisfactions. Am I hearing You?"

(I keep thinking I will stop quoting and try to abbreviate things to sum it up, but IT'S JUST SO GOOD!) Here is Father's answer to Crabb:

"Yes! I'm delighted! My Spirit is the love that My Son and I have for each other and for the world. To live by My Spirit means to love others no matter how painfully you're hurting or how badly you fail. Focus more on loving others than resisting temptation. The fruits of holiness, the fruit of My Spirit, will become visible in increased power over compulsive sin and more freedom to love.

"Let the corruption within you become an occasion for humility and self-abasement that will release your desire to move toward others for their sakes. Make every effort not to sin less but to love more. Whatever sin continues not only will be forgiven but also will become an opportunity to celebrate the grace that supplies the power to love again, which in turn will supply the power to resist temptation as you realize that yielding to it gets in the way of what you most want to do, to love as I love. You are free not to do everything right and not do whatever pleases you in the moment. You are free to love."

I think the man's hearing from God. It's what Father's been trying to tell me for a while, I just know it. It feels like something crystallized for me there on the back porch with my family.

So here's that summary and what I'm taking away from this: Freedom from sin, our addictions and the flesh is not the point of Christ's mission and the work of the Spirit. It was never meant to be the focus. Christ has set us free to love as He loves "no matter how painfully (we) are hurting or how badly (we) fail." Increasing freedom from sin, our addictions and the flesh is a byproduct of the flow of love, and it's accompanying fulfillment, coming from the Spirit, through us, to others.

I'm feeling very free to love today. How sweet it is.

Oh, and by the way. We did sing a little Sunday with my son Jacob playing the guitar.

"Here I am to worship. Here I am to bow down. Here I am to say that You're my God. You're altogether lovely, altogether worthy, altogether wonderful to me...."

KIDNAPPED! An Allegory

This allegory was written by my friend Jim Hobson for Christ-Life Ministries' "Ultimate Journey." Its aim is to help us get a truer picture of our Heavenly Father, and I always follow it with the question, "Where are you in 'the room' when it's your Father's desire for you to be at home in His lap?"

KIDNAPPED!

When we decided to have children, I never imagined how much I would love them. They were the fruit of our love. I loved them not because of what they did, but because they were ours. I was much more than their father. I was their daddy. Like most little girls they were innocent, loving, and trusting.

One beautiful summer day when Emily was almost 5, I was sitting in the living room reading the newspaper when she asked if she could go outside and play. "Yes honey; just be careful and stay back from the street," I warned. I watched with a smile as she played hopscotch on the front sidewalk. The sun seemed to radiate through her little body as she tried to hop from place to place. Eventually, I turned back to my paper.

But while I was thus absorbed, a car pulled up. A man rolled down the window and asked Emily if she wanted a piece of candy. Startled, she shook her head and said, "No, I'm not supposed to take candy from strangers. My daddy said so." "Your daddy is right," said the man. "He'd be very proud of you for learning so well. Is your daddy home?" he asked. "Yes, he's inside." "I know your daddy and would like to see him. Do you think you could take me to him?" He said as he got out of the car. "Sure." The man then asked her again, "Would you like a piece of candy?"

Now she's thinking to herself, "I"m not suppose to take candy from strangers, but this man knows my daddy, so he must not be a stranger. Maybe it's alright." So with all the innocence and trust of a four-year old little girl, she reached up to take the candy.

Just then I looked up from my paper. I watched as he grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the car. I threw the paper and made a mad dash for the front door. The man saw me as I came running through the door, and he hit the gas hard. The tires squealed as I ran after them as fast as I could. As I watched her little arm flailing through the rear window of the car, I ran harder than I had ever run before. After just two blocks they were pulling farther away, and it was clear I wasn't going to catch him on foot.

I ran to the first house I came to and crashed through the door without stopping to knock. As I frantically looked for the telephone, I screamed for someone to call 911. In a few short moments, the police were setting up roadblocks and scouring the area. A detective took me back home where once again I recounted what happened with as much detail as possible. The emotions were overwhelming as my wife and I cried out for our little girl.

I felt helpless as we waited for word. I insisted on going out to look for her, but the policeman convinced me that there were hundreds of police looking for her and that I needed to stay home by the phone in case the kidnapper called.

The police set up a trace on our phone line, and we waited for the kidnapper to call. At first, I didn't want to get a call. I didn't want to admit that she had been kidnapped. I wanted to see her come walking back through the front door like it was all a big mistake, or for someone to call and tell us they had found her safe and they were bringing her home. But as the hours passed and she didn't return, we started praying that the kidnappers would call. The hours passed slowly and painfully. We could do nothing but wait.

Hours turned into days. As days passed with no word, I fought back thoughts of never seeing her again, never being able to hold her in my arms and tell her how much I loved her. I thought of never being reconnected with that part of me that had been ripped away.

Weeks turned into months, and still no call. Everyone was trying to help. Neighbors and friends helped put her picture up all across the state. The FBI expanded the search across the country, but our daughter was nowhere to be found.

After a year and a half, Detective Brown knocked on our door. He had a different look on his face this time. He had been on the case from the beginning and knew better than anyone, the pain we'd been going through. I could tell it was hard for him as he explained how they had exhausted all their leads, and that short of a miracle he didn't know if they would ever find our daughter. He explained that we probably wouldn't see him as much now as he had been assigned to another case. He encouraged us not to hesitate in calling if anything came up or if we just needed to talk, but I knew that meant they had given up.

We couldn't give up, not while there was even the smallest chance we might be able to get our little girl back. We hired a private investigator. We poured all of our resources into trying to find her. Nothing mattered but getting her back. We would have paid any price to get her back. Each year we hired artists to create computer-generated pictures of what she might look like then.

I tried not to let myself stop thinking about how I would get her back, because each time I did, my mind would fill with those same haunting questions. Is she alive? Is she dead? What's happening to her? Your mind thinks the worst, but you're not even sure what the worst is.

Unfortunately, they were taking advantage of her and abusing her emotionally, physically, and sexually. Our worst nightmares were coming true.

The first nights after being taken away from us, our innocent, trusting little girl would say to her new providers through tears streaming down her cheeks, " I want to go back to my Mommy and Daddy," but they would respond to her with lies. "Your Father doesn't love you! Your father hired me to take you. He didn't want you. He doesn't want anything to do with you. You can't trust Him!"

After a while, she began to believe the lies. "After all,," she told herself , "If my daddy really loves me, why doesn't he come and get me? It just made things worse. She was in a hostile world now where all kinds of things were being done to her that she had no control over. She began to learn that if she was going to survive in this world, she was going to have to do certain things. Things that no one should have to do. She learned to accept what twisted security there was in conforming to the patterns of her new 'providers'.

Who could blame her? She was a little girl trying to survive in a crazy world. As she grew and became a young street-smart teenager, she mustered up the courage to escape. She dreamed of starting fresh on her own and not having to live that way anymore. But she soon found out that the streets are hard and cold. Each time hunger and fear set in, she resorted to the patterns of survival that were once forced upon her. She prostituted herself to get along in the perverted world that was all around her.

Sometimes she would let herself dream that her Daddy really did love her, that everything she was told was a lie, and that she could go home and be with him. But then the shame would hit her about all the things that had been done to her and all the things she had now chosen to do. She just knew that her Father could never love her the way she was now.

Meanwhile my mind was totally consumed with thoughts of getting my little girl back. And she didn't have a clue as to how I really felt.

She moved from city to city, but each time it was the same. There was nowhere safe, no one she could trust. She'd been a lot of places for being only 19. New York, Detroit, Cleveland, Cincinnati, St Louis, and a hundred places in between. Now she was on 'The Redeye' to Chicago. When the bus rolled into the depot, she wiped the sleep from her eyes and thought, "Maybe this time. Maybe this will be the place."

It was still a little dark out as she looked out the window at the city lights while the sun came over the horizon. She watched a passenger train pull into town and drop off a load of businessmen commuting to the city. That triggered something in her. Without thinking and without direction, she instinctively reached into the dusty archives of her mind and pulled up an old videotape. The pictures rolled through her memory, she watched her daddy get on a train like that and wave goodbye on his way to work while mommy was holding her.

When she got off the bus, she walked to the train station, not really even knowing why. It was almost as if she were being pulled. At the station, she stood there, looking around. She saw a sign for Wheaton. That name looked familiar. Could that be where she was from? She had to find out. She boarded the train and headed for Wheaton.

She wasn't sure where to go when she arrived. She headed toward the park across the street and then just started walking around the neighborhood. It had been 15 years and there had been a lot of changes, but something felt familiar. She walked for several blocks just trying to let it sink in. Finally, she came to a corner that seemed familiar. She turned the corner into a quiet subdivision. As she walked into the subdivision, she thought to herself, "I must be crazy." But as she made a curve, she saw it - a big white house, with green shutters and a green door. She knew immediately that it was home.

As she stood there studying the house, she got scared. She sat down on the curb, her mind flooding with emotions. "Should I go up there: Maybe they don't live here anymore. Maybe they don't love me. Maybe the kidnappers told the truth when they said my parents hired them to take me a way. Maybe if I go to the door they'll call the kidnappers back. Can I really trust them? Do I dare trust them?"

She almost turned to walk away, but she had nowhere to go. Deep inside she was holding onto the hope that maybe her parents still lived there and that this might be the place of safety and love she'd been looking for. Every muscle in her body tightened as she rang the bell.

I was in my study when I heard the doorbell ring. I was shocked when I opened the door and found a 19 year-old woman dressed like a prostitute. I hesitantly said ""Hello," but she just stood there. I had no idea who she was. But as I looked into her hurting green eyes, past all of the make-up and the scanty, skin-tight clothes, I saw something. There was a connection. The connection of like to like. There she was! My little girl had come home.

I couldn't believe it! After years of searching, longing, praying, she was standing right in front of me. So what would you say to her if you were me?

'DIDN'T I TELL YOU NOT TO TAKE CANDY FROM STRANGERS?"

Of course not. Was I mad at my little girl for taking candy from strangers? Did I blame her? No. I wasn't mad at her, I was mad at the one who took her away from me. The truth was that I was overwhelmed with emotion. I reached out to embrace her, but she was scared and stepped away. Of course she was scared. Any man that had ever come within ten feet of her came for only one reason. Now I'm coming at her and she is projecting all of the hurt, pain and mistrust she has experienced in life right onto me. Inside I am dying just to hold her like I did when she was little. But she won't let me. I don't want to push her too hard and scare her away, so I settle for asking her to come in.

We go into the living room and begin talking. It's awkward at first. We haven't spent any time together in years and she doesn't know me. I see the fear in her eyes so I tell her I am so excited to see her and that everything is going to be all right. She's extremely nervous, shaking like a leaf. She reaches into her purse and pulls out a package of cigarettes in an attempt to calm her nerves. But she can't find her matches. So what would you tell her if you were me?

"NO, NOT IN HERE! IF YOU HAVE TO SMOKE THAT, GO OUTSIDE. DON'T COME BACK HERE UNTIL YOU BREAK THAT NASTY HABIT."

No, absolutely not. I see the scared and nervous look on her face that without a word says she could bolt at any moment. I know that if she goes looking for matches I may never see her again. I run to the kitchen and get some matches. Do I want her to smoke? No. Do I care right now? No. I just want her to be here. I don't care that she's got some junk that she's bringing with her. We'll deal with that later. Who cares? Be here just as you are. Right here. Right now. In the safety of my house. Let me look at you. Let me talk to you. Let me take care of you.

I see the hurt on her face. I sense the lack of trust in everything she says and does. Inside I am dying because all these years, all I have wanted to do is to hold and love her. And now she is right here in the room with me and I can't do anything.

She's right in front of me but I can't show her how much I love her. Why? Because she doesn't trust me. Am I not trustworthy? Am I not the Father that loves her? Am I not the one who planned for her even before she was born. Am I not the one who conceived her? Am I not he one who loved, nurtured and cared for her until she was stolen away: I've spent years crying, longing, praying for her return. I poured my entire being and all my resources into the single objective of reuniting with her. And now, she's here, but I can't... she won't trust me.

I try to find a way to gain her trust. I continue to be patient and give her room because I know I can't force her to trust me. But I keep calling to her. Nurturing her. Wooing her. Loving her.

She keeps asking herself, "Can I trust him? Does he really love me?" But my trustworthiness and love have never been the real questions. The real questions for her are:

Will you continue to believe the lies of the one who stole you and project the junk of the world he took you into onto me? Or will you believe the truth about me and trust me to protect, nurture and love you once again?

How much of the love I long to pour out to you are you willing and able to receive?

Father Loves Best

Since stepping away from my role as CrossPoint's pastor in September, I have entered a season I'm acknowledging as "The Weaning Pen." Like a calf being held in a pen away from the source it always looked to for provision, I'm experiencing an intensive time of realizing the things I have looked to besides Father to fill me and provide for me...emotionally, physically, and financially.  I assure you it's no fun going through what it takes for some of these things to be brought to the surface, but I'm grateful because I see Father's heart for me in it.  And I see what's on the other side...true Life.

If I was looking to my position as a pastor in this community to feel good about myself, it is gone.  I sell truck accessories, something I know little about. I've never even owned a truck!

If I was looking to my ability to come through for people, it is gone.  I have let people down.

If I was looking to the credibility I had in the community because of the ministry, that went away.

If I was looking to my ability to be seen by my family as a good provider, that's gone.  I am dependent upon God working through others.

I've also realized, even more, the extent that I've idolized Michelle, depending on her approval and affection to feel fulfilled.

The other day, as I was driving to see a counselor/friend in Roswell, I said to God, "Father, I am so tired of struggling to find my place in Your story, wondering if I will ever be what you created me to be and do what you created me to do.  I'm so tired of trying to 'arrive'."

What I heard Him say was this: "You'll not find what you're looking for until you want Me more than you want to find your place or to 'arrive.'"

I said, "Ok, Father. I hear that.  But how do I want You more?" knowing that wasn't something I could just conjure up.

He said, "The only thing you can do is to lay down the desire that is being placed higher than your desire for Me."

I told Him that I was sorry, that I would lay that down, and it's something I know I'll have to do over and over again.

One of the things I realized clearly this morning was that I had become attached to my ministry.  I had come to look at how the ministry was going as an indicator of whether or not I could feel happy with myself.  And I had come attached to the people. People feeling good about me, how I was doing, and where I was leading them had become an idol.   I stepped away because I had lost confidence in my ability to hear Father's voice over the voices of others.  I fully realize now that the reason I couldn't hear His voice is because I was I had begun idolizing the voices of others over His.  And I was more concerned with whether or not I was worthy of approval than I was with the needs of the people I was ministering to.  It was the exact opposite of the message I had been preaching for years: "Our value is based on how Father sees us IN CHRIST, not on our performance."   I regret the ways I didn't live out what I was preaching, but His not finished with me yet! 

Michelle and I have been enjoying worshipping with Louie Giglio and Passion City Church in Atlanta from time to time. This morning, we watched a message we missed a few weeks back.  It's a message that I want everyone I love to hear.  It's a message I long to preach again, but more than that, one I want, and need, to walk in more fully. Father has brought about this season for me because He loves me.  He wanted me to go deeper. He didn't want me to go on experiencing any less than all He made available to me through the cross of Christ. He wants to free me from all concerns about myself.  The verdict is in.  I am crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me!  The verdict is in on you as well.

 I hope you'll sit, alone or with those you love, and enjoy this message (http://www.passioncitychurch.com/watch/#20091025). It feels good to be thinking of you this morning and to be experiencing Father's heart, my new and true heart, for you His beloved children and my brothers and sisters in Christ.

May you know that you are loved and truly blessed today,
Tim