Change

Change is…. hard.

Change is…. good.

Change is…. inevitable.

Change is…. normal.

Change is…. demanding.

Change is…. noticeable.

Change is…. life.

Change is…. becoming.

Change is…. necessary.

Change is…. heavy in your pocket.

Crying

I can’t quit crying.

I sat at my dad’s grave the other night as dusk approached and I thought my entire body would empty of its contents and substance. I cry driving. I cry lying in bed. I cry in the shower. I cry on the couch.

In the midst of losing my dad, I have also been challenged with a daughter’s connection and her respect for the way I have made decisions in wake of the divorce and my lack of throwing up walls of protection for myself.

I have lost the daily investment in my younger daughter’s lives as it has become easier for them to ignore me than to need me. They are teenagers, so I wonder if I were still at home if they would care anyway.  That is a mystery.

I have minimized the chance to make an impact in the life of my future son-in-law because of my impasse with my eldest.  He says it is not so, but since I am a guilt vacuum I will tend to teeter toward my negativity until I can prove differently.

All of this stuff makes you cry.

Thankful

I am thankful today. Now, do not get me wrong – I have plenty to be forlorn about, even fearful. I am choosing to be thankful, though.

This week I had planned (and am still planning) on beginning a four-week teaching series on change. I want to ask and tackle the questions of what change brings to our life? What are the natural effects of change? What are ways to mitigate the effect of change? How can I make change a positive aspect of my life?

This year is a year of change for me. Some of the change I will term positive. Many changes have had a negative impact on me. Today I took an online accounting of the changes that have occurred in my life over the last year and I was not surprised that I scored 383 on the Holmes and Rahe Stress Scale. That measurement device was created by mental health professionals as a gauge to help us understand the destructive nature of change.

Score of 300+: At risk of illness.

Score of 150-299+: Risk of illness is moderate (reduced by 30% from the above risk).

Score 150-: Only have a slight risk of illness.

I am looking for an aspirin right now…maybe more!

Seriously, this made me think…as much negative process as has gone on around my life this year, what am I thankful for?

I am thankful that I had a dad whose life I now miss. (Stewart Funeral Home – Visitations, Rev JR Underwood)

I am thankful that I have three beautiful daughters that I would give my life for and that my oldest daughter is an adult I can admire and respect (if not always agree with.) She writes too… Andrea’s Blog.

I am also thankful that I am about to get a son-in-law, Andy McMahon, that cares for and loves my daughter to life.

I am thankful for the opportunity I have to live my life and make a living by leading others in spiritual progress.

I am thankful I have a predominantly healthy life.

I am thankful that I am surrounded by people who love me.

I am thankful I have no real lack in my life.

I am thankful that I am not hopeless but I am hopeful for a better future.

I am thankful that I have a relationship with God.

I am thankful that so many people have accepted me for who I am, warts and all.

I am thankful that I am forgiven.

I am thankful that I am not alone.

I am thankful for gifts and abilities.

I am thankful for grandmothers who prayed for me.

I am thankful for grandfathers who were dedicated to their family.

I am thankful for a mother who has never quit.

I am thankful for life.

I am thankful for a boatload of opportunities that I have had and taken advantage of in life.

I am thankful for friends, far and near, that I love and that love me.

I am thankful that my sin did not destroy me before redemption took hold in my life.

I am thankful for praying in the Spirit.

I am thankful for grace AND mercy.

I am thankful for healing – spirit, soul and body.

I am thankful that my daughters feel they can be honest with me without losing my love.

I am thankful for music that soothes the soul.

I am thankful for the Bible, God’s Holy Word.

(My mind is being flooded with names now and I dare not begin to mention them for fear of missing someone.)

I am thankful for all of them.

I am thankful you are reading this and I would like for you to write me one or two sentences to say hello.

I am thankful for having the capacity to thank.

I am thankful for doctors.

I am thankful.

Thank you, Father God.

Every desirable and beneficial gift comes out of heaven. The gifts are rivers of light cascading down from the Father of Light. There is nothing deceitful in God, nothing two-faced, nothing fickle. He brought us to life using the true Word, showing us off as the crown of all his creatures. -James, the brother of Jesus Christ

Let the peace of Christ keep you in tune with each other, in step with each other. None of this going off and doing your own thing. And cultivate thankfulness. Let the Word of Christ—the Message—have the run of the house. Give it plenty of room in your lives. Instruct and direct one another using good common sense. And sing, sing your hearts out to God! Let every detail in your lives—words, actions, whatever—be done in the name of the Master, Jesus, thanking God the Father every step of the way. -Paul, to the Christ followers in Colossae

I miss him

It’s only been five days, but I miss my dad.

J Roland Underwood

J Roland Underwood, my father, passed away very unexpectedly last week. He was 71 years young and was doing very well in the grand scheme of things. The circumstances of his death are very odd to me. It all began Sunday, August 24. We had went to church together that morning, and as usual, he found a time and place to clear his throat very loudly when I said something that afforded a comment. He was like that. Every Sunday, if I was speaking, I would hear an “Oh, me.” or an “Amen,” or a one or two word commentary from his perch on the back row. I think he sat there so he could oversee everything that was happening and because he wanted to be as far away from the speakers as possible. He did not enjoy my musical taste or volume preference.

Before and after church he was in his customary place that morning – at the main entrance catching every person he could, coming and going. He was, according to Dr Gilbert Bilezikian, a one-man welcoming committee of ten. He was our ambassador. More than one person has told me over time that he, not I, was the reason they were in the church. He loved people and they felt it. It did not matter your race, socio-economic status, religion or lack of it, he was going to let you know you were valuable and that he was glad to see you.

On this particular Sunday, he was hugging and smiling and chatting it up with everyone. He told more than one person he was getting caught up on his hugs. Not only did he love everyone, but everyone seemed to love him back.

After service I went home alone rather than go to lunch with he and my Mother. I did not eat until later in the day, but I did go break in his house while he was at lunch and grab a tomato and two peaches for my own lunch at home. Later, I called him and asked him about lunch. He told me that he and my Mother went to Huddle House (a Waffle House clone) here in Snellville. I told him that I was cooking my lunch and how long it would take to boil corn on the cob. He told me and we chatted a minute or so.

Later that afternoon he decided to share some watermelon with my Mother and commented to her that it just was not good watermelon. He finished his, got up from his chair and went and disposed of his leftover rind in the kitchen garbage can. He walked back in the sitting room, went to move his TV tray that he had been using as a table and just collapsed without warning or preview. He hit the door before he hit the floor and was out. His heart had just stopped.

It took paramedics less than ten minutes to respond but it was too late. He had been without oxygen for that time and, at his age, it was four times too long. He never responded again. After two days they told us he was brain dead and we made the difficult choice to remove him from the ventilator.

As we gathered around his bed, about twenty of us, and prayed, we broke into the first verse of Amazing Grace. As we finished it we began to sing the chorus of ‘Praise God’ that accompanies the melody. His pulse rate went lower and lower. As we began singing his pulse rate rose 10 bpm then began to rescind. They had told us he was brain dead, without response and gone. Lower, to 36bpm and then, on the chorus, back to 45bpm. Then it happened..the most amazing thing. As his pulse rate lowered his left arm began to raise. He joined us in our worship and then within seconds, flatline. He was gone. I took his left hand and gently laid it across his body. My mother had his right hand in hers as he slipped away.

It has been five days now. I want to call him, to see him, to hear him. I can’t.

I miss my dad. I am glad that I am not the only one. I love him.

Related article – Shalom Existence (link)

Flying in the Dark

I can’t see. It’s dark outside.

It has been so long since I have been here to write. Why? Well, singularly or cumulatively - divorce; distance; despair; delays; disappointment; discouragement; disbelief…and dumb stuff that shouldn’t really bother me at all.

But I find myself flying over Florida, Cuba and the Caribbean toward a week of being at work among faith leaders in Costa Rica and I am compelled to not waste this time.

In times past I have written about the beauty out my window on my journeys. The places I was seeing below me, beyond me and in front of me were inspiring and demanded, within me, that I should put into words what I was experiencing in the moment.

This flight is different. I hardly ever take this flight. This is the night flight out of Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport, known around the world as ATL. This flight takes off into the sunset and by the time we reach the Gulf of Mexico and Florida’s west coast a red hue is all you can see to evidence that daylight once occupied this space.

Now, I am flying in the dark. It does not bother me. In fact, it almost helps me because I focus a lot better without distractions. Trust me, there are no distractions at 37,000 feet. The phone does not ring; the email does not come; people cannot find me. It is nice.

Although it is dark and I do not know where I am going because there is no reference on the horizon, in the sky or on the ground, I could not tell you if I was going north, south, east or west. I don’t know what is in front of me or behind me. I do not know anything about anything and yet I am as fine as a frog hair split four ways.

Why?

Because there are two guys about twenty feet ahead of me that are flying this Boeing product based on what they can see. They have all these lights and sensors and gauges and switches and meters and instruments and stuff that I could not understand if I could see it. What’s more, I trust them. I put my life in their hand. I say (without saying), “I’m going to stay back here and keep my mouth shut and you take me to San Jose, okay?”

And they do that. In fact, they have done that every time I have gotten on one of these metal tubes that are part restaurant, part movie-theater, part human potpourri. This is probably my 50^th time to leave the USA for CR. That is almost 100 flights (more with connections) and I have never once been disappointed in the destination.

I have been scared! Many times fear wreaked havoc, but despite the anxiety attacks I made it 100% of the time. Sometimes this plane has rocked and rolled, dove and dived, undulated and twisted through storms and winds…still, I arrive safely.

Life is like that. (You knew I was going here, right?)

Okay, since you knew I was going here, Mr or Ms Smartstuff, you get to finish the blog. Write me at philunderwood@bellsouth.net and I will post the best parts of the best finishes here in a few days.

Just to let you know – I’ll take credit for every word and idea you come up with. I’m just that way.

No, it will be evident it wasn’t me, I promise. Here’s the drill: One paragraph, Five sentences or less, one hundred words. When it is all said and done I will post my own ending too. This will be fun (and it just might be enlightening.

See you at the airport!

Renovaré… Whatcha Thinkin’??

Following is an easy thing… IF you keep your eyes fixed on what you are following. Me? I think I may have attention deficit disorder. I am always looking around at the scenery. Everything seems to catch my attention and fancy.

As I write this I am sitting in a booth at Chick-fil-A. I want to write. I want to communicate, connect and convey the ideas that have been rolling through me about following Jesus. I want to tell you about how Jesus is worth following because he was going somewhere to make a difference (everywhere he went.)

I want to tell you how that I am learning to follow Jesus in prayer by watching how he interacted with the Father. His confidence in the Father’s love enabled him to accept people, care about people and be with people without regard to himself.

However, instead of flowing in that train of thought and having the focus of Jesus to my task, I am looking at the Wal-Mart sign across the street. It is the same sign I have seen for years, so why look at it? It is NOT changing. Because sometimes static is more secure than the moving, unstable ecstatic.

In following Jesus’ path there is always the ecstatic. There is the constant change and upheaval and turmoil that spiritual life brings when it is pursued. Spiritual quest has a natural enemy and a supernatural enemy. The natural enemy is self – our desires, appetites, wants, doubt, fears. The supernatural enemy is our adversary – Satan, the enemy of our souls. He, and evil in our world, harass us, challenge us, attack us, know us, and are committed to the destruction of faith and trust in relationship with Jesus.

However, there is one word of truth that will epitomize the movement toward following, and fighting the good fight called faith. That word is repent.

Jesus’ cousin, John, who came to notoriety as a preacher in the wilderness of the Judean region, carried this theme as his primary message. The scriptures relate, “John came, baptizing in the desert region and preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” This word, repent/repentance, carried a meaning with it of changing course, or changing paths, even changing direction.

Vine’s Dictionary of New Testament words, calls this the ‘afterthought’ of decision to follow Jesus. Wikipedia begins to let us understand the picture more clearly. Meta (from Greek: μετά = “after”, “beyond”, “with” and Nioa = thinking.)

Following Jesus incorporates repentance. Jesus said to his followers, ‘Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is here, now.” Jesus is saying, “You are led with your thoughts. When you abandon your thoughts and embrace my thoughts then your thinking changes. As your thinking changes, your life changes – not selfishly, but in, with and though relationship with me.”

It is an ongoing message from God’s heart to human reality. We become twisted (wicked) in our thoughts and cannot discern the truth or the long-term consequences of things for ourselves. We trend toward being evil (out for self with the absence of care for others) and we drift from the way of God we were created to live in. The Prophet Isaiah, speaking on behalf of God, gave us these words in Isaiah 55 -

Let the wicked forsake his way
and the evil man his thoughts.
Let him turn to the LORD, and he will have mercy on him,
and to our God, for he will freely pardon.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the LORD.

“As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.

So, I choose to follow, change, repent…. Stay away from what is always the same and reach forward to what is moving and alive and brings potential. There is something to be said for not staring at the Wal-Mart sign that will stay put, but rather, as ancient texts of Scripture suggest…

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. (Hebrews 12, New Living Translation)

Paul reminds us of this in his letter to Christ-followers in Greece, when he writes…

“No eye has seen, no ear has heard,  and no mind has imagined
what God has prepared for those who love him.”

But it was to us that God revealed these things by his Spirit. For his Spirit searches out everything and shows us God’s deep secrets. No one can know a person’s thoughts except that person’s own spirit, and no one can know God’s thoughts except God’s own Spirit. And we have received God’s Spirit (not the world’s spirit), so we can know the wonderful things God has freely given us… “Who can know the Lord’s thoughts?   Who knows enough to teach him?”  But we understand these things, for we have the mind of Christ.

So, what do you think?? I think I need Renovaré ….a makeover, from the inside-out, in my thinking. It begins with what we are watching, so don’t get distracted.

The Saddest Day Ever…

Recently, I was speaking with a friend who told me about a paper their son wrote for a school project. The child was about fourteen when he wrote this and it was a recollection of a day, five years earlier, that his parents were divorced. The title of the paper was, ‘The Saddest Day Ever.’ I do not know that feeling nor will I ever. My parents stayed together in spite of all the trouble life could bring.

When I think about family and being committed to that value over everything else, I remember sitting on a hill made of debris and rock, in Mandeville, Jamaica, when I was 27 years old, and discussing my family with my good friend, Chuck Quinley. Chuck and I go way back..to Northside Church in Atlanta, Georgia, when we were preschoolers and rolling down the embankment in the church yard. Both families moved – his to LaGrange and then to Lilburn, mine to Lithia Springs. We saw each other growing up, at camps and such, and then attended college together at Lee University.

That day on the hill, I had been married six years and was desperate to find some connection, some equilibrium, some consolation. We talked about his amazing partnership with Sherry, his wife and how they had such a similar vision and heart for life. We talked about how we wanted to sit in a similar place when we were sixty and be able to tell our children the great stories of faithfulness and love that sustained us. We wanted to talk about the value of purity in relationship and to attend our children’s weddings with a sense of accomplishment that we had invested the right stuff into their lives. I’ll not forget those days together in Jamaica and how, upon returning to Chuck and Sherry’s home, just down the street, one of the first things I saw was my daughter playing in the carport with Chuck’s son. Those were our children, respectively, and we had our work cut out for us. I was inspired.

Now, here I am, twenty-one years removed from that moment. That daughter who played on the porch that day as a four-year old is now twenty-six. She has a heart of gold that has been refined by a fire of trouble and disappointment. She is passionate about things that really matter rather than the material and mundane. I have never had a value in my life that celebrated money and possessions over people. She possesses that same sense and then accentuated that value to a new level in her life pursuit as an advocate for marginalized humanity. I have two more daughters emerging into adulthood who are gifted and resonant, if not yet focused and guided toward their destiny.

That vision on the hill is flourishing in Chuck and floundering in me past that first daughter. Why? I think it all comes down to me. When confronted with the disparity of life I chose to fix myself instead of trust God. Maybe fixing myself is not an appropriate term. I chose to medicate myself. I saw no vision of change or hopefulness, so I resigned myself to futility and just looked for temporary fixes (that actually were anything but a fix.) I look at people who were/are in similar places as Chuck – a marriage with shared vision, passion, enjoyment and commonality. All those things are naturally possessed yet energetically guarded and cultivated by the parties involved.

A garden, no matter how rich and fertile the soil, will degenerate into a field of weeds without care. I see Chuck and Sherry as that fertile field that was worked, tilled, guarded and celebrated (Check it out – The Quinley Tribe.) I, on the other hand had different ground to work with. As in the parable of the seed, taught by Jesus, all ground is capable of sustaining life IF it is paid attention to. Dry and rocky ground CAN become a fertile field IF there is a shared vision. Vision is the key to EVERYTHING. Without vision people perish.

Chuck & Sherry had a vision that included every part and parcel and person of their home and family. That did not just happen, it was intentional. I, on the other hand, (and it seems I am only talking about me here, but it is because I take full responsibility for my actions and I cannot assign blame to my mate) had entered into marriage without the emotional health and balance to understand what I was doing, to succeed and to give a legacy of virtue to my children. That is sad, but I am not hopeless!

In every human lament and failure, if we find ourself breathing and able, there is hope. I do have a vision for and with my daughters as a family. I have a vision for their mom. I have a vision for myself. How can I have a vision on a day that I admit my failure? Because I have a God of promise.

In the historic book of Joel, in Scripture, God promises to restore what the predatory effects of life have stolen. Look at this poetic response of God’s love toward people who were devastated:

21-24 Fear not, Earth! Be glad and celebrate!
God has done great things.
Fear not, wild animals!
The fields and meadows are greening up.
The trees are bearing fruit again:
a bumper crop of fig trees and vines!
Children of Zion, celebrate!
Be glad in your God.
He’s giving you a teacher
to train you how to live right—
Teaching, like rain out of heaven, showers of words
to refresh and nourish your soul, just as he used to do.
And plenty of food for your body—silos full of grain,
casks of wine and barrels of olive oil.

25-27 “I’ll make up for the years of the locust,
the great locust devastation—
Locusts savage, locusts deadly,
fierce locusts, locusts of doom,
That great locust invasion
I sent your way.
You’ll eat your fill of good food.
You’ll be full of praises to your God,
The God who has set you back on your heels in wonder.
Never again will my people be despised.
You’ll know without question
that I’m in the thick of life with Israel,
That I’m your God, yes, your God,
the one and only real God.
Never again will my people be despised.

Recently, my life looked like it had been stolen (I may have been the predator myself.) My children have had to endure their ’saddest day ever’ and my twenty-eight year marriage became a statistic. However, the story has not ended…with God every day gives new mercy, new hope, new possibilities and new provision. Will God make all things new or will he simple re-new what was?

It matters not. What matters is that God sees the saddest days…those with darkness and storms and destructive winds and he penetrates, at an angle, the clouds and fog, and then, with his bright sunlight beams a multi-colored rainbow of promise that writes itself across the sky for all to see. There will be another day and it will be a day of promise, not sadness.

How do I know? The Bible tells me so….

“Look! Look! God has moved into the neighborhood, making his home with men and women! They’re his people, he’s their God. He’ll wipe every tear from their eyes. Death is gone for good—tears gone, crying gone, pain gone—all the first order of things gone.” The Enthroned continued, “Look! I’m making everything new. Write it all down—each word dependable and accurate.” (Revelation 21)

Sad days? Yes. The saddest day ever? Yes. The end? NO!

Indiana Jones & Renovare

So, if I am on this quest to discover the image of Jesus in my own life what will be my end?

Last week I sat and enjoyed the latest Indiana Jones quest. This time, for the Crystal Skull. Earlier in the series, I believe it was the third installment; he was looking for the Holy Grail, believed to be the chalice Jesus drank from at the Last Supper. The climactic scene centered on Indy having to follow the way of Scripture and trust the Word of God to guide his steps. I have watched this scene time and again and absolutely love it. Indy’s Dad is suffering from a gunshot but is helping his son navigate the treacherous path when they discover they are to walk in the ‘name of God.’ They do this by following a path of letters that spell the Latin equivalent of Jehovah.

Once Indy gets past that place of having a visual path to follow he moves forward to a place where there is no path at all. Instead of a path he is greeted by an infinite abyss below him and between where he is and where he wants to go. His self-speech is the truth of Scripture that reminds him of going forward in faith. With no apparent relief in sight he takes a step into the unknown. He has no control, no ability, and no power to keep from falling…yet, he does not fall. With each step into nothingness a path begins to emerge that leads him to his destination.

As I seek to Re-Renovare my life, I am seeking to say to myself that the path I have seen and followed has gotten me this far, but to go forward I will have to walk into a place that is not so defined. There is no systematic map, no formula, no AAA-approved route for this journey.

The old pathways that have brought me to this point were wonderful and good. They brought me here. At one time I could not see a pathway here either. As I moved forward, though, the path emerged just as with Indy. Now, looking back those pathways of faith are memorials to the faithfulness of my Father. He is calling me forward, upward, onward to a life that I have not known. The street is still Peachtree, but it is a renovated Peachtree. I have been here before but I have never been here. I have walked here, yet I have never walked here.

Every day in my God-journey I am sensing newness and grace. Sometimes, thankfully, there are markers on the road, but I also realize that sometimes there will not only be the absence of markers there will also seem to be the absence of road. Still I walk..by faith and not by sight. I move forward trusting yet not knowing. I decide believing, not having experience.

I follow the way of Jesus.

Renovaré

As Summer comes, so comes vacation, adventure, heat and sun. This year, Summer also brings Renovaré.

Renovaré, the latin word meaning ‘to make new’ is my personal theme for this season in life. In a spiritual quest, the central core of that journey is to discover something new. Renovaré is the quest to take five major areas of my spiritual life and remodel them according to the pattern and plan found in the message and life of Jesus. This will not be a one-time project.

Here in Atlanta, our main thoroughfare north and south through the city is called Peachtree Street. It is like Avenue of the America’s in New York City; Biscayne Boulevard in Miami; Champs d’Elysse in Paris or Michigan Avenue in Chicago. Peachtree Street defines Atlanta. Peachtree is always growing, accommodating, moving and it is always being renovated. In fact, there was a famous lyric here in Atlanta for decades that had as its tag line, “They’re tearing up Peachtree Again….”

Making Peachtree fit for more traffic, better transportation, smoother rides is a never-ending project.

Visitors to our city sometimes become confused because there are so many streets, avenues and roads bearing the name – more than fifty at last count. But there is only ONE Peachtree Street!

In spiritual quest I have found there are many alternative ways to the one true way. That way, as I have sensed it, is to simply follow the founder. Jesus was the catalyst to a new way of life in which humans learned to relate to their Creator and life source through relational connection and trust rather than conformity and legality.

What do I mean by that? We know, by study and by experience, that God is love. We also know that God is community, in that he is more than one singular being eternally existing as Father, Son and Holy Spirit. He is life, in that death could not conquer or hold him. The message of Jesus is this.. God loves us, wants to include us in his community and wants us to remain there for eternity. How, by trusting in the way of Jesus.

I am choosing to live life by embracing the way of Jesus, in prayer, compassion, empowerment, obedience and purity. I do not live by the negative force of guilt and shame, but by faith and trust. I want to be a human being instead of a human doing. I want to be like Jesus in how I relate to God, relate to people, serve people with and beyond my ability, respond to the direction of God.

There are a slew of books, preachers, ideas, churches, women, men, traditions and heresies that will purport to be the way, but they will not be ‘the way.’ As Atlanta has only ONE Peachtree Street among many Peachtree thoroughfares, there is only ONE way to be like Jesus – that is to be like Jesus.

I began this quest some time ago. Now, i continually am on a quest to retool, rethink, re-evaluate, repave, and re-imagine this way I am on to Jesus-likeness. So, this Summer I am doing a Renovaré. Walk with me as next week i unpack what it means to me to live like Jesus in prayer.

Arrrgghhhhh!

I have not written here and six weeks and this does NOT count!

Help me reconnect, redirect, refocus and return…..please.

Where are you JS, when I need inspiration?

Things have been tight here with the emotional and spiritual fight I have had to be engaged in.  I never envisioned or anticipated the storm in my soul and around my life. I will return here, on purpose over the next two months with at least a weekly series I am calling Renovare. The latin root of the word Renovate is the focus of this Summer season of my life.

Join me here beginning next week as we engage our hearts in spiritual living… prayer, goodness, grace, compassion, and obedience.  If you have any thoughts feel free to email or visit me at Facebook.com and leave a message.  Comments here will not cut it.