Note, I am now blogging at popeyeprinciple.blogspot.com.  Come over for a dose of “spiritual spinach.”

As the year winds down to a close, so too does this blog.  But that doesnt mean I’m done blogging, just moving addresses and I’m looking forward to it.

From now on I’ll be blogging over at popeyeprinciple.blogspot.com.  The blog is called “The Popeye Principle,” based on a motto I live by that is a mash-up of what the Apostle Paul and Popeye used to say: “By the grace of God I am what I am (and that’s all that I am).”

In my new life we’ll be exploring moments of Grace as they come to us in Scripture and in our daily lives.  I’ll still be blogging primarily on my daily devotional readings, but the emphasis will be on how Grace helps us figure out who we are and who God is calling us to be.

Hope you’ll make the move with me and head over for a helping of Scriptural spinach to help you be the best possible you that you can possibly be!

2 Samuel 7; 1 Chronicles 17
In the previous episode, David has run off to get the Ark back, not because he wanted to bring God back to the people but because David wanted the blessing.  Leading the procession, though he was dancing to his own tune, everyone thought him so pious–holiness on display.  But Michal saw right through it.

Indeed, David had been blessed.  From shepherd of lambs to shepherd of the people, selfish at times–like when he wanted Nabal to pay for slighting him; like when he danced for his own glory before the Ark.

And of all the lessons to learn from David, this is the one to file away on a notecard to be kept in the card catalog of your life under gratitude–”Take time to thank God for loving you when you’ve been acting like a heel.”

That’s what David does.  He stops, and takes time to let it sink in–how can God love me like God does, even when I’ve been acting this way?  How?  Not because of who I am, but because of who God is.

God loves us regardless, but this is not something to be taken for granted–it’s something to be appreciated, through a prayer that spills over into our lives.  Especially when we’ve been acting like fools (to put it nicely).  Even when we’ve been dancing for own glory, letting God bring up the rear.  Even when we’ve trounced all over the feelings of others.  When we’ve let our mouths run with negativity, when we’ve kept God’s blessing all to ourselves.  God loves us regardless.

And today, I am glad.  I’ve acted like a horse’s backside plenty of times in my life, and yet God still loves me.  Expects better from me, sure.  But loves me regardless.

And loves you too, as one bumper sticker goes, “whether you like it or not.”

2Samuel 5.1-10; 1Chronicles 11-12

sheloshah min ha’shalosheem:  “three of the thirty,” in Hebrew.  Unnamed, but part of David’s closest men–those with him through the hard times, willing to risk anything for him.

While holed up in the Cave of Adullam while on the run from Saul, David got homesick.  And one day he sighed outloud, “What I wouldnt do for a cold drink from that well in Bethlehem …”  For me, it was that water fountain at the elementary school, the kind where you had to step on the pedal to get the water to come out—and when you were young you had to put two feet on it and jump, and sometimes ask a friend to get on there too, then once you got enough pressure on there you could hear it—a whistling gurgle, coming up—and then out it would bubble on some days, spurt on the others, and after a hard bike ride that first cold sip that hit your lips and the back of your throat …  That’s the kind of drink David was talking about.

He didnt command them to, they just went, having overheard David’s wishes.  And these three went—though Bethlehem was occupied by Philistines—and they dipped from the well at the gate, yet when they brought it back to David, he refused to drink it.  Why?  Because he felt guilty about it, to have risked three men—three of his best men, like that.  And David learned.

It’s a powerful thing when people look up to you.  It’s a powerful thing when someone would do anything for you, very powerful—to know that someone would do anything for you.

Leadership has its privileges, and none so dangers as having those who would blindly follow such that they would do anything for you … anything.  Was watching Criminal Minds last night and the names Jim Jones, Charlie Manson—the things they had people do for them—this is the glimpse of the power that David saw he could have and it scared him; it scared him that the 3 would put themselves in danger just because he said he wanted a drink of water.

Having people in your life that would do anything for you is a humbling experience, and never something to be exploited.  Leadership is a gift and a privilege, not an “I-snap-my-fingers-and-you-get-me-a-Twinkie” sort of deal.

Ahh, what I wouldnt do for it to be summer and take a ride down to the elementary school and get a drink from that old fountain …

1 Chronicles 6-10

As Chronicles continues on, we continue on with the family tree of Israel, building to the events of the fall of Saul’s kingdom, which concluded the book of first Samuel.  As it is with such genealogies, mostly what we have is so-and-so beget so-and-so–name after name.  And sometimes these names can be cross-referenced, and we can find out about them in other passages of Scripture.  (The most interesting of these come in Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus Christ, which a colleague of mine preached on this past Sunday, and I’m sure to profound effect.)  However, every now and then there’s a break in the begets and we get a short vignette that has a lot to say.

In today’s reading, it’s the short narrative of an event in the life of Ephraim.  We are told that he has many sons, but two are the subject of a tragedy.  They are killed during a raid, both on the same day, and it all but destroys their father.  We are told that Ephraim grieved a long, long time, even as family gathered around to comfort him.  But it seems he was much like Rachel, weeping for her children refusing to be comforted.  However, the Bible tells us that one day, Ephraim slept with his wife again and they conceived a child, which he named (in Hebrew) “Unlucky.”  Not the most fortunate of names for a child to be saddled with, but still this child is a landmark in the life of Ephraim–it was the moment of his moving on.

When grief hits we can get stuck.  Not can we do get stuck.  Grief is like wet cement into which we step and the longer we stay, the harder it is to move on.  Consequently, there is no greater and more difficult grief to move on in than that of a parent who loses a child.

On Sunday evening, we gathered in the sanctuary for a moving service to hold in our hearts those parents who have lost children and light a candle in memory of those young ones who have gone before us.  And I dont want to claim that such a grief is one that you can ever get over, but you can move forward–it’s what they would want you to do.

For Ephraim, it was having another child.  My sister lost her first child, and she and her husband still remember that child when Thanksgiving comes around–even nearing a decade later–we all do.  But, they now have three children with whom I get to see again for the first time in many years during the twelve days of Christmas.  They moved on.

Moving on doesnt mean forgetting.  Moving on doesnt mean that the memory of yr child will go away.  Moving on simply means choosing to live, as the child you lost would’ve wanted you to live.  To have more children.  To give that gift of a good family to others.

If you are grieving beyond child-bearing years, moving on will look different, but the idea is the same as with any choice we make–it means choosing life rather than getting stuck in death.  It’s moving on beyond the grave as Christ did on Easter morning.  Yes, it means dealing with loss, and suffering, and a grief that wont go away–but it means choosing to live, to move on, remembering the past while heading towards the future.

1 Chronicles 3-5
Jabez prayed.  A lot of people know they because they read the book.  I have to admit–never have.  I think I’ve even had it on my shelf–a gift–but I never read it.  No reason why, just based on what I knew and heard about it, I never felt like picking it up.  I’m sure some day I will.

But as I came across the passage of Jabez (1Chron 4.9-10) I decided … if I wrote a best-selling, quick-read inspirational book about Jabez, what would I cover?  What would the chapters be?

Chapter one: Or how I ended up being the only good apple.
It’s not that we know much about Jabez’s family, just that he was more honorable than his brothers.  I’d probably envision writing this chapter for that one person, raised in a family that has fallen out of the habit–or else never got in the habit–of going to church, or synagogue, or mosques–to encourage that person to stick it out, even if they get opposition for home or family.  To be the type of person who might just set the example, without pressuring or guilting the rest of their family.  I might recommend the book that LeBron James wrote recently, about he and his group of friends, growing up in a rough neighborhood, who decided to stick it out, not fall in the trouble others around them were finding, but focusing on goals and dreams and pursuing them.

Chapter two: Keeping your past behind you.
Jabez was saddled with a name that reminded him of his past–”Born in great sorrow.”  I’m guessing his mother must’ve died in childbirth, much like Rachel who first named Benjamin, Ben-oni (child of my sorrow).  We dont know, but Jabez didnt let his past hold him back.  I’d write this chapter for those people who want to blame their present situations on the fact that their mother died when they were young, or their father didnt pay them enough attention.  Maybe it’s over done, but I’d probably talk about Michael Oher, subject of The Blind Side and point out how based on his past he couldve just as well ended up still on the streets, but he had people in his life and he kept his past behind him and is now living a dream he couldnt have dared dream back then. 

Chapter three: Blessing
The first thing Jabez prayed for was God’s blessing, for where else, how else are people blessed except from God.  Praying for blessing means opening your eyes to count blessings that come along throughout yr day. 

Chapter four: Prosperity
The second thing Jabez prayed for was rooted in the promise made to Abraham, of land and progeny.  At this point, I’m afraid in other books on the subject, the “prosperity gospel” kicks in and some author or speaker might tell you that you too can be a millionaire and have the life of yr dreams if you just pray hard enough: “Just look at Jabez.”  But in this chapter I would challenge us all to re-envision what prosperity looks like.  Sure, a million dollars would be nice, but that isnt the only way we prosper.  We prosper even when our bank accounts dont show it; we prosper even when our paychecks dont reflect it; we prosper, even in a minimum wage job–at least, we can.

Chapter five: Hand in hand
Checking the time, I better make this my last chapter … and it will cover the idea of walking hand in hand with God.  In our lives we cant just expect God to do everything for us.  The life of faith is not a passive activity.  We dont get saved and just sit back waiting for God to pour on the blessings.  It’s not so much we work for them, but we work with God and find the blessings along the way.  Sure, there are sometimes God carries us, but most times we are to live our lives walking hand in hand over the mountains and through the valleys.

For now I’ll shelve the book, because it’s already been written, and one day I’ll read it.

(1 Chronicles 1-2)
Continuing the story of David, we turn over to 1 Chronicles, another version of the story told in 1&2 Samuel, and today we get a lengthy, two chapter geneology, starting with Adam, including David, seventh son of Jesse, great-grandson of Ruth.

In the Bible, both the First and Second parts of the Story, there are very few dates. And the way the authors both viewed and recounted history was in the naming of significant individuals. And the history of a person was always placed within the context of their family histories. We see the same in the Gospels when we read about Jesus’ family history.

Such geneologies in the Bible are meant to show where a person came from, what inheritance they received, give the reader a sense of who they are by who their family was (for good and for bad).

In the electronic age in which we live, it seems geneologies have had a resurgence. Decades ago family trees were cultivated by those dedicated few willing to spend hours in the library, scrolling through microfilms and dusty books, but today, one only has to plug in a few names and they can find out all sorts of things.

Like learning about the “moon people.”

Our people came from eastern Kentucky, where there was a legend of moon people: babies who were born blue, most growing out of it, but some keeping the blue tint their entire lives. There are all sorts of legends and tales told about the powers these moon people were said to have, where they truly descended from (talk about the idea that we’re all made of stardust), but truth be told it’s just a circulatory disorder. But either way, there was only one family in eastern Kentucky where babies were born blue—and they share the maiden name of my grandmother.

I’m a novice, so I’ve never been able to trace a direct lineage—but in Kentucky, people with the same last name somehow tend to be related, which means that somewhere on my family tree, the leaves are blue–and somehow I’m slightly descended from the moon.

But there’s more to that in my family tree. Like a great uncle whom we remember in four days, having died at Pearl Harbor. Heroes, preachers, and tragic figures–rosey-faced Irish immigrants, and blue-skinned moon people. And somehow they’re a part of why I am here because they are where I came from—for better or for worse.

During this Advent Season as you gather for big family reunions like the ones we used to have in an Ohio farmhouse, look around you; ask to hear some stories about your ancestors. You may just learn a little about yourself.

See you on the moon!

(Psalms 6, 8-10, 14, 16, 19, 21)
The death of Ish-Bosheth, though David didnt approve, signified the official public reign of David.  And it traditionally it seems that he takes the time to look back on his life, take inventory, and see how he got this far.  And all the credit, as these Psalms that he is credited with as writing at this time, he gives to God.

He looks back, and he remembers all those people who asked him, in the darkest and most desperate times, “Where is God?”  And though he may have wavered at the question as all of us do at times, he always knew–God was where God always is–on the side of the innocent, on the side of those who try to do the right thing, on those who stick it out and cling to faith whatever come what may.

It was David’s faith in God that no matter what the situation–a Shaq-sized Philistine, a bi-polar King who threw spears at him, constantly outmatched–no matter what the situation, God was there.  When the odds were against him, when the way was blocked, always on the run, God was there and was already (somehow) sorting things out.

Same goes for us.  On a morning like this, when you may be facing unemployment, redeployment, foreclosure, downsizing–a group at school that teases you, a test on a subject you just arent getting–confrontations with a boss, criticism from peers, a critically ill family member–on a morning like this, you may ask yourself “Where is God?”

But these Psalms remind us that God is there, in the chair or couch where you sit and read this blog.  God is there, where you stand checking this post on your Blackberry.  God is there in the mess that life can become, sorting things out.

Peterson puts it this way.  Wherever you find yourself, whatever you face, wherever you must go “God sees and sets the world’s mess right”(from Psalm 9.7-8, the Message).

Know that.  As I always remind people at the end of every service, “Wherever you are, God is, and all will be well!”

(2 Samuel 1-4)
In the field after Jonathan shot the arrows to confirm David’s suspicions that Saul was out to get him; outside the cave where David had almost taken Saul’s life–in both of these situations, to Jonathan and then to Saul, David promises to look out for their family, and in today’s passage we see him follow through on that promise.

First, to begin part two of Samuel, an Amalekite comes to David and lies about killing Saul.  If we take a narrative approach to the story, we know that 1 Samuel ended with Saul falling on his own sword, but here the Amalekite says that he was the one killed Saul.  He lies because he thinks it will please David, knowing that he has killed David’s long-time enemy and that he would be well rewared. 

Instead, the Amalekite’s plan backfires and David kills him–not the best of examples, but still keeping with promises he had made, in this case taking care of Saul’s family but avenging his murder.

Later in today’s passage, it is Joab–one of the captains of the Israelite army–who comes to tell him that he has killed Ish-Bosheth, Saul’s son, thus ending Saul’s reign forever and paving the way for David’s legitimate kingship.  And like the Amalekite before him, Joab expects to be rewarded but is punished by death instead as David’s way of keeping the promise he made to Jonathan first, then Saul.

Okay … so we dont need to go around avenging people’s deaths to keep our promises to others, but what we do need to keep the promises we make.  This is a lesson that comes up various times in the Bible, no clearer than in the sermon of James, who tells us to mean what we say by doing what we say (James 2.14-26).  Just as I wrote about “sticking to our sorries,” so too does God’s Word tell us to stick to our promises.

In our lives, we’ve been on the one side–where we’ve grown up with people promising us they’ll do something and then never follow through with it.  And we’ve felt that sting, that hurt, after looking forward to that promise being fulfilled and then slowly realizing it’s not going to happen.  Consequently, we’ve also been on the other side, where we say we’re going to do something, but then factors both within and beyond our control come up that we find we cannot follow-through with what we said.  Then we find ourselves always apologizing, trying to explain, trying to make it up to that person.

As I’ve grown, I’ve tried to learn not to make promises I cannot keep.  There are lots of things I want to do in life, some that I try to do, but too often there are a lot I just cannot get to.  So I try (and note the key word try) not to promise to do everything I want to do but only what I know I can.

A promise is something that should be thought-through before it is made.  It is a precious thing, a promise, and ideally it should always be kept.  And to do so it requires forethought and follow-through.  It’s always better to let someone down upfront than to try and make up for it in the end.

The Advent Season reminds us that there is always one person who keeps their promises.  God has promised to love us, God has promised to forgive us, God has promised to save us, God has promised us a life like no other.  In Jesus Christ, God is keeping all of those promises, now as God has and will always do.

So let us live by God’s promise today by taking the promises we make seriously–thinking them though and then following through with them.

(1Samuel 18-21; Psalm 18)
David was serving in the Philistine army.  What better place when the leader of your own country was hunting you down?  Yet as the Philistine army was marching to war against Israel, God stepped in to prevent David from having to fight his own people.

Though seemingly committed to follow through and fight with the Philistines against his own people, committed either because he felt he’d never go back or because he needed the protection of the foreign army, the Philistine commanders were doubtful whether or David would actually fight or not.  They considered him a liability, so they dismissed him.  And David willingly left.

But when he returned to his current “home away from home,” he found that it had been raided, everything taken–included his two wives, Ahinoam and Abigail.  His anger alone wasnt enough to have him set off against the raiding army.  Considering the odds, how much distance they might have already put between them, David needed motivation.

So he turned to God.  Through prayer he plugged into God’s strength and encouragement.  “Can I do it?” David asked.  “Of course you can,” God answered.

Can I do it?  How often do we ask ourselves that question, but at those times the answer we most often give ourselves is, Of course not.  You’re not good enough.  You dont have the resources.  You dont have what it takes.  It’s that ugly voice in our head that creeps in when we’re tired, frustrated–when life piles up like two feet of slushy winter snow and all we have is a garden spade.

That’s when we have to go to God with it.  The only voice that drowns out the other is God’s gentle yet firm one.  “Can I do it?”  Of course you can!

That strength … that strength that we recognize near the end of a long trial, when we sigh, “I didnt know I had it in me.”  That strength comes from God.  When the snow is just about cleared from the drive.  When the credit card balance is finally three digits.  When exam week is just about through.  The last round of treatment.  The morning you wake up close to a year after a loss and you realize that it is getting a little better.  What got you to that point?  God’s strength, the strength that came because you trusted God with it.

Can you do it?  Is the next year the one when you turn it all around?  After a long weekend that only delayed the inevitable challenges of the week to come, do you have what it takes to face them with confidence and strength?  Of course you do, because God is already waiting there to face them with you.