Liar, Lunatic or Lord

"I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: I'm ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don't accept his claim to be God. That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic—on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg—or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God, but let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to. ... Now it seems to me obvious that He was neither a lunatic nor a fiend: and consequently, however strange or terrifying or unlikely it may seem, I have to accept the view that He was and is God."

CS Lewis, from Mere Christianity

This isn’t a new argument. That this being we exalt and hold so high might also be looked at in different light from different eyes. And of course he is, our perspectives are different. If you ask a native Indian about God they will preach you a much different version than the blonde hair blue eyed version that sat in the back of my church I grew up in. If you ask someone from Africa who has no understanding of Christ, they will tell you quickly about what they do worship. And if you go to the mental hospital and ask those who are coming off of drugs or so warped and twisted from dark possessions of the world, they might tell you something totally different.

The fact is that there are three pretty clear things you can think. And probably a lot of others, but I’m gonna stick to the ones that CS Lewis pointed out. Was he a liar? Was he crazy? Is he God?

Well, for a long time, I struggled with the crazy and God thing. Maybe I still do, but I do know who I believe in. Was he a liar? I don’t think so.

But you get to make that decision. Take God in flesh and put him in the center of a very polarizing environment. The Jews thought they had all the answers and were going to rule until God came down to wipe out all of their enemies. The Gentiles, they were more like those of us who hadn’t had all the religious upbringing. Take the tribes that were scattered, take the romans, who had come in from afar and put them all into a bucket and this is where you drop the son of man.

Was he a good man? I’m sure the Pharisees didn’t think so. They thought he was a crazed madman who spat at their religion and told them how wrong they were to their face. Something they hadn’t really experienced before. Rome even gave them the respect of keeping their ways while taking over the area.

To the woman at the well? Well, he told her who he was and who she was without even doing a deep dive. He knew her heart, and he also knew her situation.

I don’t scour the scriptures like I used to, but I do still remember the words I was taught and do go back and check.  I know that there is one conclusion that I can hold onto. As much as I’ve struggled with it over the years, Jesus is the son of God and that’s the same God who saved me. 

Did I think he was lying to me? Oh hell, yeah. I thought for years he was lying to me about my own salvation. I questioned, and I poked at the belief until I had nothing left to poke at. Because what I was really doing was poking at my own disbelief. Do I think he was a mad man… Hell, yes! Only a mad man would come down and be amongst us when he didn’t have to. But even that says that he had a plan, a plan beyond anything I could do or fathom. Was he God? Yes. In this human’s opinion, he was God.

He is God.

And you can take all of us who believe and put us in a bowl and you’ll find that we are either truly lying to ourselves, taken advantage of by the biggest con job in history. Or we are following a mad zealot who walked from town to town spreading this crazy message. Or We are simply following the God who shows up. Who stands beside us even when we can’t understand why.

Liar, lunatic, Lord. I know who he is to me.

You get to figure that out for yourself.

~ Peace

The Burtle

The wonder in the ‘Why?’

It’s probably the biggest single struggle in my faith - where my heart and my mind collide.

The ‘Why’.

Why would infinite father on high send his son down to die on the tree for me?

And all the faithful followers who don’t have doubt, man I wish I had your strength, because I know who I am and I know that I struggle. While my heart knows 100% there is a God, my mind questions why he would do that for me. Why?

And that is the beauty of the frailty of man coming to the feet of the fulfillment of God.

While God so loved the world, he also knew that there would be ones like me that don’t always get it. In our frailty, in our bitterness and our sorrow we still just fight with him constantly. The utter cynic in me looks for answers while my heart still beats for the God I love.

I’ve had some people tell me that it was a surrender problem. Maybe, but more than anything it’s a hardheaded, free thinker who didn’t come through faith by simple submission. Who came to faith by fighting with religion and facing demons. I’m sure others of you have gone on that journey.

And maybe that’s why I’m writing this. Because there are others out there who question the sacrifice but know there’s something more. And in those spaces in between, that’s where we have to rectify our faith into something that we may not totally understand, but down deep feel and experience it’s truth.

Why would Christ die for me? And I’m not talking about the sin thing, I get that. I’m talking about the simple looking at a human being (God in flesh) and saying ‘why would you die for me?’ and then realizing it’s God and we may never understand his ways. Hell, never understand!! 

So if you’re struggling with a tugging inside your chest that just won’t let go, struggling at the fact that it doesn’t make sense, I get it. I get you. And I want to tell you, there is hope.

Last night I sat alone in an Airbnb and thought about all of the celebrities who, in the height of their fame drank or drugged or just flat out killed themselves because they were alone. Robin Williams, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Chris Cornell. I felt alone last night too. And I knew I needed to sleep. I needed to get up and face a new day today. Hope in human form is no hope at all. And if we’re not careful, we start playing with the most precious gift we have, life.

I’ve been down that dark road, and what I’ve learned is that I won’t always understand the path, but I usually understand the next step. And many times I get correction, nudges from the universe, from God, from others around me to keep me moving forward.

Going back to the question of why - I don’t know the answer, but I know that when I’ve been in my darkest there has been a light that annoyingly shines. Not letting go of me even when I wanted to let go myself.

Why?

Because God loves even me.

And if you can’t rectify what’s going on inside your gut with what’s going on in your head, gosh, I’d love to talk to you. Not to convince you, but just to know that there’s someone who wants to hear.

 ~ Peace

The Burtle

Mary, did you know?

‘Mary did you know 

that your baby boy

Will one day walk on water?

Mary did you know 

that your baby boy

Will save our sons and daughters?

Did you know 

that your baby boy

Has come to make you new?

This child that you've delivered

Will soon deliver you”

 - words by Mark Lowry 

She was told that she would be a mom. Not just any mom, but she would birth life into the world by carrying and nurturing the son of man.

What a mantle.

Can you imagine the weight? Honestly, I wonder if all of you moms already can. Because the responsibility, the joy, the tenderness and the headaches that come with raising a child might be beyond anything that I understand, but I wonder if you already know how hard it can be to have this tiny little form that you know is going to grow up and grow away come into the world in your hands.

Jesus was special. Unique. He was God.

I know none of you have raised a saint, because I know some of your children! Kidding! But I do know that Mary was given the instructions to love, to teach, to admonish Jesus, just as all of you have been given that subtle understanding in your spirit of what it takes to cradle something and then be able to let go.

Mary had to let her son go to the cross. It was his destiny from the beginning. She watched him, followed him and she lingered nearby, never interrupting his mission (well, maybe with the wine thing).

To all of you moms, and there are so many of you that I call mom, regardless of whether you birthed me or not (you did not want to birth me, it was 10 lbs. 3 oz. and I’ve been a lot since the very beginning!). Thank you for the journey that you walk with these little beings that God has placed in your hands. Knowing that one day they will have to walk on their own and they may walk away, but you still do what you were asked. 

Loving. 

Holding. 

Letting them go.

You are mom.

~ Peace

The Burtle

Video of the original version of the song - click below:

https://youtu.be/bXmfkFoX-PE?si=Yu1yAKiGsCqd3-eP

A Cynic’s Guide to Faith

I have doubts.

Many.

Sitting on the cynical side of faith while at the same time fully aware that I wouldn’t be sitting here at all without that same faith.

I question.

People.  Motives.  Government.  Policies and even the validity of stop signs, especially along those rural stretches of road along 278 through the outskirts of Georgia into Alabama.

I guess I’m supposed to just believe.  Well that got me tied to a bottle and wishing I could just make them understand… fighting a losing war with myself.

Why do I have these questions? Maybe one day I’ll get to ask the Dude on High. My faith didn’t come easy, yet it’s the easiest thing for me to actually believe.

A cynic believing in one true God. Yep.

Because even those of us who struggle with trust, who struggle with letting go, who struggle with knowing that the world will ultimately let them down can find a sliver of peace in knowing that tears aren’t wasted on heaven. That all the hard isn’t bigger than the God who whispered “I am here.”

And if you don’t question and can just believe without doubt, I wish I had your superpower. Mine seems to be flying headfirst into brick walls until I knock myself silly!

Funny thing is, when I doubt the only thing that always remains after disappointment from other fallen humans, institutions without a conscience or relationships that seem so fucking one sided is the truth. The truth that after a good cry (last night and this morning) there will be that same sliver of peace once eyes have dried and breathing has calmed.

Oh, I doubt. I question.

Yet, I still believe.

~ Peace 

The Burtle 

A matter of Time

It’s a matter of time.

I met them at a Christmas party just over a year ago. The conversation was several older men discussing life and generalities and it floated to the fact that I worked at the time for a large window and door company. There were a couple more specific questions and this new gentleman asked me about a storm door. What would I get, where would I get it?

Just a couple of weeks later I found myself at his house with his wife installing the door. What I didn’t realize was he was an engineer, and that he would be watching every step of the process. Here’s the thing, I’m a creative type who went into carpentry late, not an engineer or a fully apprenticed trade school carpenter.  I know what I’m doing, I just look at it from a different perspective and often times walk-through things by having to learn. What I thought it was going to be a frustrating experience became a learning experience for me, but also what I believe was a bonding experience for us.

It took me a couple days to do that door, mainly because I had to build it out and I wanted to make sure it was done as best as possible for both my specifications and his satisfaction.

Every time I go to their house I look at that door and make sure that it hasn’t fallen apart. <cringe>  Slightly as a joke, but also because I want to make sure that the work I’ve done honors them.

Fast forward to this last weekend, after a year of visiting them when I can - always trying to stay in touch. Introducing them to my girlfriend/soon to be more… I’m at their house on a very hot day after loading a trailer to move out of state. They asked me specifically to come by and see them and of course I wanted to, but I was tired. I actually wanted to just get on the road and end a frustrating day. Sometimes when we plan things we have to depend on others and well, that’s not always the easiest thing. There had been a huge letdown earlier that morning from one of my oldest friends, and though I tried to understand, I was angry, hot, tired, spirit-drained.

I walked in and after just a few minutes this gentleman tells me he has something for me. I won’t lie and say that it wasn’t what I secretly hoped for. From the very first day I walked into their house I have been in enamored by all of the beautiful antique clocks that cover the walls, nooks and crannies, everywhere. Oh, I wanted one. But I would’ve never asked. And honestly it was a joy to always get to look at them and be fascinated. Definitely not because I’m technical, but I can appreciate them - the beauty and age and craftsmanship that comes with each.

He walked me around to the counter where underneath a small covering was one of the most beautiful little clocks. I’ve spent a couple hours since looking up information about this clock. But it really comes down to time.

Not just time that the clock registers, but time spent caring for and learning about other others.

I know a good bit about this couple, not everything. I know, Madison, Alabama, Auburn University, aircraft and clocks, medical procedures, and a little dog. I know that I have been so grateful to have been able to change some lightbulbs, move groceries, clean off a deck. And more than anything else I’ve learned to cherish a couple that I didn’t even know a year ago.

I plan on staying in touch. I also plan on cherishing that clock - making sure I take care of it. Because it isn’t about the clock. It’s about the love.

 ~ Peace 

The Burtle

Freebird

“If I leave here tomorrow

Would you still remember me?

For I must be traveling on now

'Cause there's too many places I've got to see”

It’s a song of the South. Possibly the southern national anthem if you really wanna get into it, by a group that spent a lifetime traveling and making music their own way; through deep rooted beginnings, tragedy, departures, success and a legacy that still plays on through whatever medium you listen to your music on.

Lynyrd Skynyrd.

And while I cannot say that I am their greatest fan, I am a son of the south. An educated white liberal Christian who never has seemed to fit in 100%, but knows my roots and knows who I am finally after 50+ years!

‘If I leave here tomorrow…’ well that’s gonna happen. Not tomorrow, but in the near future - the next days even. Taking on a new adventure and this time taking the time to plan it out and make sure that it at least has the inklings of success instead of running across the country like I did several years ago just to “do the right thing” - when I wasn’t even sure what the right thing was.

It’s crazy. And at the same time it makes perfect sense. Where else would I go but to the place I feel like I can do life, work, wake up next to someone I love and though not free in the sense of my hippy spirit reminiscent of the 60s and 70s, to be free in the ways that I can be. Which is by following my heart, which hurts sometimes, and just pressing forward into the next day.

“Would you still remember me?”

In the past, I’ve left quite a path of destruction that I’m sure many people remember. But I also left some good. And in my more recent history it has been about making sure that I leave a positive reflection of who I am and what I believe when I’m dealing with others - whether it be through work or social interactions or in this place that we try to hold God in at times. 

Man, those of you at Burnt Hickory have been so important! My class. In ways you may never know, you’ve guided and loved and shown me that I’m ok in a place where I really don’t like being most of the time.

If you know me, really know me I hope you realize how important you people are to me. Though I can happily do life alone as a hermit at times, I do want there to be people who see me for who I am. Not for the mixed up child of the church, but for the man of faith that I truly strive to be every day. And I think you’ve seen me.

I love you all!

Through my faith I’m free to be who I am, not chained or shackled but open and ready to see what comes next. 

In his hands!

~ Peace 

The Burtle

Cold of Winter

Winter sucks. The final season of the life cycle. Cold, bitter, lifeless - at least on the surface.

Cold winds blow and the comfort of heat is always a flicker away from being extinguished.

Life comes to a close. Often through time spent and a life lived, but other times it ends before the first sapling even has a chance to experience sunlight.

We don’t know when and I sure can’t fathom the way the ruler of the universe operates, but death comes.

In this case before even taking a breath.

So the sting of winter might be just a little deeper. A child isn’t born, at least not a functioning child that gets to run and play and live and learn and grow. But that doesn’t mean there’s not love there. It doesn’t mean that there’s not significance.

There’s a soul there. One we won’t get to experience. A soul that maybe just didn’t need to be here and already had its ticket to someplace better. Hopefully a heaven full of frolicking and playing and all the stuff kids do down here.

My friend is hurting. His wife just lost their little baby boy. All I could say was “I’m sorry”, but it doesn’t seem enough. How do you tell him that it’s okay? I don’t. I just told him I’m here if he needs me.

And that little soul, I’m glad to know that there’s something bigger up there. That in the dark of winter, on one of the coldest days I’ve felt in a while, there’s a little warmth knowing that he’s home.

Spring will come, and cold outside will turn into the wet mushiness of life.  But not without a moment taken (at least by me) to look at one of those first flowers and say a whispered prayer.

~ Peace

The Burtle