God's Math

It has always been as simple as 2+2=4.
Even when it was not so simple (x + 7) = 10, it at least made sense. (x = 3 if you are trying to figure it out).
Even the new "common core" while it may take 6 days longer to figure out a simple equation, still gets you to the logical answer.

Yet there is an element of faith that at times does not always add up.  Faith requires the ability to understand "new math" in the realm of God that is not always logical.

I have tried and tried and tried.  But so often it just does not add up.  How does God take the finite I offer and multiply it by his infinite to come up with the extraordinary.

My struggle is not with the math skills of God.  He is the common denominator in life.  It is that he takes something that seems like a negative and makes it a positive.  He defies the rules of math.  I was always taught that a negative can only be a positive when multiplied by another negative.  But somehow his positive always outweighs my negative.  His mathematical algorithms supersede my logical brain.

This is the properties of faith.  Faith calls us to not try to do math too much.  Faith challenges to trust that the logical rules do not apply to divinely creative God.  The more we try to add it up, the more God surprises us with how he makes it add up.

What I have learned from the Divine Calculus no matter how much I try to predict the answer and the formula to get there, I am typically wrong,  Yet in my incorrectness is always the right answer at the right time in just the right way.

God's math may not add up, but it is always correct.

Just Being Jeff

The story starts with an argument.

Apparently en route to the hospital my parents were still undecided on the precise spelling of my name.  Mom wanted Jeff(rey).  Dad wanted Jeff(ery).  Thank God no one wanted it to start with G.

Side note: my first life lesson learned that mama is usually right. It is Jeff(rey) to this day.

But from that moment no matter the spelling an identity was set into motion.  It would be formed and fashioned on the words of parents, coaches, teachers and pastors.  It would be gently shaped by the hands of mom, dad and grandparents.  It would be broken to pieces by people who seemed to be trustworthy but shattered that trust.  Identities are treated as fragile like fine China sitting in a buffet.  But often just as durable as our everyday dinnerware.

It is the identity that often determines our destiny.

Identity allows us to set a course for life, follow dreams and make determinations on right and wrongs in our journey.  The loss of that identity is just as powerful the other direction.  It keeps us bouncing on whatever wave comes, drifts us to and away from shorelines.  A loss of knowing your personal Northern Star keeps you from finding a direction for life.

There have been moments when I felt like someone had changed my name.  It is as if what we have been called our entire life no longer made sense.  There were moments when I felt as if Jeff had been changed to Geoff without my permission.  It was the sense that who God has always intended me to be was not who I was being.

Often the struggle with identity resembles a fitting room in a Goodwill.  I realize the Goodwill does not have fitting rooms, but hang with me.  Trying on identities is a like sorting through the racks of others people's clothing looking for something that fits.  I would try on this or that looking for what looked like me...more times than not looking for the me I wanted everyone else to see.

Rack after rack of worn out hand me downs have I worn in hopes of finding a fit.  Then it happened.  I left the Goodwill.  I quit trying on the outfits and identities everyone else had for me.  I started wearing the special tailored design of God for my life.

I finally quit being who and what everyone else wanted of my life.  And finally started Just Being Jeff!

Birthday Post

39 years old...there  I have said it.

A lot of days I act more 19.  Live slightly more 29.  And dream of an early retirement in a beach bungalow at 59.

But today I turn 39.

39 is a birthday with little fan fare.  My celebrating started at breakfast with a couple snicker-doodle cookies.  Will wind down with 2 more cookies.   And very little excitement in between.

But 39 is a reflective year.  It is on the edge of the hill that leads to being old.  But young enough to know there is lots of life ahead.  39 has sprinkled gray into my once dark brown hair from years of learning.  But it also lets you know there is wisdom yet to gained.  39 lets you look back on what you believed to be your best years and look ahead knowing the best is yet to come.

Numbers were something important to God.  There is an entire book of the Bible that tells us so.  Numbers are important to us as well.  My age is not a measure of life lived or yet to be lived.  No the number of years is a reflection on the goodness of God.

David wrote it best when he said "may goodness and mercy follow me all the days of my life."  So God's mercy and his goodness that chased down a prodigal heart at 19 is still chasing me at 39.

So one more snicker-doodle and a thankful heart for all God has done and promises to do even at 39.