In wanderlust of eternity,
I travel streets of grace 

I know the power of illusion.

But I find truth upon Your Face

(illusions crumble)

the b/ro/ke/nness have weakened bones and feeble flesh. 

I trust in the Musician’s strings,
The One who makes the nation’s sing.
You are good
it’s understood
as days lead on……………. to Day.

So
I
trust
in
You.

 I long for bliss.

 I send resounding praise.
You have always (in every single moment of my life) placed Your Hand upon me and I could not escape it. 

I could not escape the love and the joy that had brought me even in the midst of dark hours in crooked roads.
You hem me in with mercy.
You have laid my sorrows upon the banks of Your glory.

Your glory, outshines them all.
Your holiness compels me in the arena of your steady sure activity
even in times of c h a o s you speak (a sensible soft Voice) like a faithful father, Your Hand
on
my
shoulder.

 I will be guided and I will be kept.

in flesh and blood,
gold and glory,
eyes of fire,
You tell the story.

Two life altering truths:

1. God is speaking.
2. You have one day fewer to listen than you had yesterday.

 I rarely ever had those kinds of thoughts in my twenties and thirties, but now truths recur often. Have I listened to God? Have I really lived my life to the fullest? Have I heard God’s voice?

The old adage is true: Our life is God’s gift to us. What we do with it is our gift to God. 

Jesus came to bring us rest if we will only stop long enough to listen and to let Him speak. This is the kind of life Jesus lived out in front of us. He connected with the Father intimately and dynamically.  We, on the other hand, are often too busy doing things for God that we miss entirely the presence of God. 

God really does have something to say to each one of us. I know it like the back of my Bible. I preach it, teach it, encourage others to listen, but if I’m not careful I’ll get so focused my schedule that I don’t slow down enough to hear the Whispers. When I shut down all the white noise and ambiance, God speaks. It’s not always an audible voice, but a Voice just the same. 

Every now and then I’ll experience a feeling of being very small. You’ve probably don’t know what I’m talking about. All around me there are bigger ministries, larger budgets, more talented communicators, and more successful pastors.  (I know you probably never feel that way but may I confess that I do from time to time.) It’s at that moment that I have to refocus on a simple four-word sentence. “Jesus is with me.” I know. It’s a Children’s Sunday School sentence but it’s still such a gigantic sentence. “Jesus is with me.”

Jesus is with me and He has something He wants to say to me—not just through me. It’s not enough for us to believe that He exists and has something to say to me personally. . It would be a shame for us to finally arrive in Heaven and not recognize the voice of God. In order to hear Him, I must remember to adjust my spiritual sensors. It took me a while to grow out of the belief that He’s not a manipulator of people and I don’t have to be one either. We can’t control our people. That’s the way God made them: UNCONTROLABLE. Sometimes in the past I’ve wanted to but I’ve gotten over it. These sheep can’t be controlled, but they can be led. The basics of listening must overcome the relentless pressures that we as worship leaders and pastors face. Let me encourage you to try the following things that will lead to a heightened sensitivity to hear God’s voice

• Today– I’ll live a life of urgency and celebration. The brooding life is not holy. To many it might look holy but a grave-digger and party pooper do not a Kingdom make!
• Today– I’ll simplify to remove distractions. Our inability to hear God is directly linked to the static of modern life. It’s perhaps the greatest plague of the church. We are uncomfortable with silence. The things we place before our eyes, the multitude of messages we receive on a daily basis, even the food that we eat potentially blocks our reception of God’s voice. We often expel the voice of God through texts, emails, Facebook walls, radio, TV, and music.
• Today– I’ll meditate on Holy Scripture. Don’t just read it.  Become preoccupied with it! Stuff your self full of holy words and you’ll see it bring a blessing of peace over your life because your eyes and ears are open to His Word. 
• Stop all self-promotion campaigns. We all involved in a throne battle. Who will you place on the throne of your life.  To which king will you bow down?
• Today I’ll follow God’s heart and not my own. Keep in mind what God thinks of your heart:  It is deceitful. Songs, movies and pop culture have urged us to follow our heart. Please don’t. It’s a dead end proposition. Discover the heart of God and follow His.
• Today I’ll clarify boundaries in my personal world. The ability to hear God is directly related to our ability to say no to lots of things in your life- even a few good things. We understand that we are not capable of doing everything for everybody. Your closest friends will not understand it. Some will be disappointed in you and others will think you are a prude, but celebrate your boundaries. If you understand the purpose you have been created to achieve, saying NO (sometimes in bold and all caps) is not just recommended, it is required. 
• Today I’ll seek discernment regarding your day. Every morning, ask for wisdom and courage.  You need them both in order to discern the voice of Holy God and to do whatever He tells you to do. 
• Today I won’t tolerate negativity. If you find yourself surrounded by negative, whiney, sarcastic people, consider the architecture of you life and think about doing a little renovation. 
• Today I’ll have faith in the process. St. John of the Cross, an early church father coined the term: the dark midnight of the soul. “The journey in Faith–the midnight of the soul when the light has all faded away and darkness has completely descended.” He concludes that many Christ followers don’t wish to endure the power of pain and tragedy that is necessary to pass through before the light shines again.  I would argue that an overriding theme of the Bible is that suffering is not simply to be experienced but celebrated. It produces a deeper intimacy with God.

I hope that today is enough to lead you into a conversation with the Divine. He speaks softly and He speaks in present tense. 

You’re in a pit and wondering if this is the place you’ll die. You must wait.

They accuse and convict you. The slam the door. Nothing seems to be happening. You lost your last appeal and the lawyer wants his money. You must wait.

You are scrubbing the floors in a corrupt palace where money changes hands under the table. It’s all a sham. They paint their walls with the blood of the innocent. Nothing has changed. You must wait.

You make a mad dash out of the city where you were once a prince and now you’re stepping in sheep dung on the backside of the desert. You must wait.

You are in the belly of the beast, the den of the lions and the fire of the furnace. You must wait.

He took his share. He wished you nothing but death. But you love him still with an eye on the horizon. But first you must wait.

40 days in the desert.

40 years in the wilderness.

Perilous hours in the storm.

3 days in the tomb

9 months in the womb

You must wait.

But you move in the waiting. Your lungs have breath. Your pulse continues. The music is there. Hope is the stuff that keeps you alive.

Never-ending nights and arduous days.

Most have given up. They’ve packed it in. They tapped out on the mat of the threshing floor.

But you, ample servant of the Most High, you must wait.

Then she cried, “Samson, the Philistines are here!” When he awoke from his sleep, he said, “I will escape as I did before and shake myself free.” But he did not know that the Lord had left him. Judges 16:20

He tweeted (or should I say “Xed”) a hot take and he didn’t know the Lord had left him.
He took pleasure in the failures of someone and he didn’t know the Lord had left him.
He longed for the admiration of others and he didn’t know the Lord had left him.
He spent so long criticizing a colleague that he didn’t know the Lord had left him.
He resented his wife because of a comment or a failure and he didn’t know the Lord had left him.

A Parable:

Last week I was praying about a very important conversation I needed to have with one of my many supervisors. (I seem to collect quite a few.) For several weeks I had been struggling with an issue. I also worried about the conversation.

• How would he react?
• Will he pushback on my observations and concerns?
• Will I speak the truth?
• Will he think poorly of me?
• Is it really worth his time?

  (I can do this for extended periods of time. My OCD in third gear, I suppose.)

I have a reputation of being non-confrontational so this was a very important and nerve-racking phone call. I finally got the courage to make the call on a long road trip. Although I was skeptical about whether this was the right time or if it would it be better for me to have a face-to-face meeting with him. We began the conversation, and everything was cordial and upbeat and then I broached the uncomfortable subject. My monologue went on for about five minutes and then I asked a question.  Silence filled the space where I expected to get feedback or even a rebuttal. I nervously rambled a little more and then a little more. I asked another question. Still silence. It was at that moment I realized that the call had dropped in the middle of my conversation. In fact, my manager tried to call me back, but I didn’t look at who the caller was. I just kept rambling and ignorantly assumed that my manager was listening intently.

This slightly embarrassing slice of my life reminded me of a much larger meta-story. I thought about the fact that many times as I go through my day I can get so wrapped up in my own diatribes, anecdotes, and amusements that I fail to realize that the Holy Spirit left the building. This was Samson’s predicament. He was a man of great strength but in that moment, he forgot where his strength came from and experienced the sudden realization that he had no strength because the Lord had left him. The worst thing that could happen to any of us would be for God to leave us to our own futile strategies and schemes. A dropped call might be embarrassing for a moment but realizing that the Lord slipped out of the room at your time of greatest need reeks of tragedy and despair. The Lord’s presence strengthens us to do things that we could never do, while the Lord’s absence only leads to our demise.

This happens with churches, too. We get so caught up in our own problems, glory, issues, budgets, concerns, activities and structures that when we finally stop for a short second we come to realize that the Holy Spirit has left the building. When things get flesh-saturated, He might just slip out the door and find another place where the focus is on God and not on our man-made idols and edicts.

We must stop. As the ancient poet Rumi said:

“Sit, be still, and listen,
because you’re drunk
and this is
the edge of the roof.”

Step away.
Be still.
Listen.
Stop talking.
Make space.
Question everything.
Let go.
Let God.

We remember “Jonah and the Whale,” but I’m intrigued by another much lesser character- An itty-bitty worm.

“So Jonah was very grateful for the plant.  But as morning dawned the next day God prepared a worm, and it so damaged the plant that it withered.” Jonah 4:7

Notice that it’s not 1000 worms. That would seem to be what God would do. Just make it like Pharaoh and the locusts. Just send tons of worms to kill the tree! But no, God prepared a one single worm. And just like God prepared a great fish. God prepared a worm and God has a plan for you.

It was the itty-bitty worm versus the big shade plant.

Beloved disciple, what is the plant that stands before you today?

A rebel child?

A dying church?

A transitional community?

A helpless victim?

An atheist neighbor.

A discouraged leader?

A fear?

A need?

A pain?

God prepared a worm. And God will prepare us as we go.

Ity-bity Us

Huge World.

This is GOD’s Message, the God who made earth, made it livable and lasting, known everywhere as GOD. “Call to me and I will answer you. I’ll tell you marvelous and wondrous things that you could never figure out on your own.’

Therefore, iity-bitty as we are. Go! Out there!

There is a pernicious seed that is programed into the heart of almost every man. We see it in movies, books and even short 30 second commercial storylines. It’s revenge. There’s no telling how much money we’ve all shelled out at the box office to see the hero stick it to the man. We all love to see the evil genius outsmarted by the victimized underdog. The music swells, the truth is revealed, and the good guy rides off into the sunset making the world right for all the good guys and damsels previously in distress. And the villain lies vanquished in the mire of his own failed, wicked plans. Revenge triumphs! Most myths and legends proclaim the thesis that revenge is sweet.

The only problem with this fantasy is that revenge doesn’t work. Maybe in Hollywood, but there’s no “particular set of skills developed over a long career” that makes revenge satisfying in the long run. Our culture seems to run on revenge fuel. There’s a wide variety of revenge tactics such as angry tweets, public “gotcha” questions, and straightforward verbal (or even physical) combat. Paul reminds us that the only one worthy of vengeance is God. Any path toward revenge is futile and terribly unsatisfying. Revenge fuel will gunk up the soul and lead down a perilous rabbit hole of dissatisfaction. The next time you find yourself marinating in a pool of vengeful scheme, turn your eyes upon the one righteous person who had every right to seek revenge as he suffered on the cross, offering forgiveness to his torturers while never compromising His values and identity. Embrace that vision and we will all understand the nature of godly manhood. 

You can measure one’s faith by their ability to move on. Jesus encountered many people who fawned and queried Him, looking to work out some kind of bargain, complete with caveats and clauses. He presents each follower with a moment. These moments connect us to a point of decision. When that moment comes, you’d better grab it because it’s singular in transcendence.It transports you into both adventure and holy consequence. In Luke 9, we see three symbolic responses to the Jesus call. Each representing different ways

During times of hardships

The first declaring voice makes an enormous claim. The would-be follower meets Jesus on the road and says, “I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus replied, “Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.”

So often I have longed for a 10 year plan. I’ve dreamed of putting down roots and knowing exactly where I will find myself at the end of every day. I hate surprises and Uncle Murphy who shows up when everything that can go wrong does. He enters the arena of my personal world in force and fanfare. I don’t like it. I hate it. I hate surprises. And I HATE MOVING BOXES. What will happen next? Only God knows and He won’t tell. Sometimes life is void of parachutes, exit plans, and emergency funds. Sometimes we exit the scene of the fire, smelling like soot and hopping in the car of a loved one with little explanation, because life is just that unpredictable. Don’t feel abandoned because you lack the certainty of addresses and schedules. He’s there. He’s just silent.

When we anticipate grief

Some of us see grief just around the corner instead of 10 years down the road. We catastrophize tomorrow and we say like Jesus’ next potential follower, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” The context is probably not a hospice situation. Burying your father in that culture is committing to be there to the very end for your earthly community. This person’s father could have been in perfect health and 40 years old. Jesus’ response would seem terse and unsympathetic if the dad was presently at death’s door but probably that was not the case. Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God.”

We love to be tidy, even obligatory in life. But with Jesus, we don’t loiter in the obituaries of our mind. We hug their necks, bid farewell and trust God. No one has funerals on their calendar months in advance. Life goes on and Jesus calls us into life which, at its core, can’t be tethered to future sackcloths.

When we have to leave home

Still another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.” Jesus replied, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.”

Sometimes our exits are protracted. We don’t know how to hang up the phone or walk out the door. We do postmortems where we look at our past and wonder if we could have left later. We burden ourselves with feeling of guilt for not being with the same people in the same town, facing the same problems. We have to stop rubbernecking our history and move forward. Sometimes you have to cry the tears, hug the necks, and pack it in- all on the same day. We don’t have time to worry about what will happen in our wake.

There has never been a time when I left a ministry, job or town that everything suddenly fell apart because I left. I can’t think that much of me. None of us are indispensable. You’ll be missed but the people you have to leave will be fine. Don’t idolize your importance to an organization or a community. To do so limits your perspective on the sovereignty of God.

So when you are faced with a sad, yet mandatory farewell and you find your beloved friends questioning, speculating and bargaining regarding your departure, here’s a good response: “I love you. I must be going.”

Our trust in God’s plan should be:

• Unconditional

• Unwavering

• Undaunted

• Undeniable

• Unadulterated

It means giving God a blank check.

I’ve asked myself this question for years now and I still see through a glass darkly. I am guided and shaped in the midst of my own perplexities. One fact counters the next, but this list is true. Everything else is still on the table.

I am loved by Christ . . .
often wrong
rarely strong
seduced by grace
fixed in place
soaked in tears
racked in fears
a mix of duality
I long for centrality
homesick
heaven bent
wounded, limping
yet surprisingly steady and quite unrelenting
rebel some days
deceived by the haze
this maddening, saddening, dazzling maze.
sick and then healed
with mercy revealed
faithful, bold, and perfectly formed
wandering, timid, disfigured and scorned
enigma, riddle, mystery, clue
firm, unchanging, promised, and true.

About a month ago I took a swing at the diet phenomenon of intermittent fasting. If you’re not familiar with it, it’s the practice of going 16 hours without eating anything. I’d start at around 9 pm and eat precisely 1 pm. It works, but the people who know me best have encouraged me to give it up. I’ve lost weight but it’s best not to interact with me around noon. My personality changes and I say things that are just plain out of character and none of them nice. My hangryness kicks in. I have little patience for anything or anyone. They would much prefer the slightly overweight, jolly, patient, kind person that I am on a full stomach than the skinny, twitchy, crass, impatient, grumpy guy that watches the clock like an astronaut, waiting to blast off toward any loaded platter of complex carbohydrates at 1PM. I have come to the sober realization that I am a broken man with an incredible aptitude for pizza. 

12:30 PM is about the time when coworkers scatter to distant cubicals and watercoolers far from my workstation.  Yes, they know. I try to avoid making any important decisions from noon to 1pm. Decision making on an empty stomach is dangerous. Just ask Esau. I think he invented intermittent fasting and paid a high price for it. After a morning of hunting on an empty stomach he caught the scent of Jacob’s stew and he made a stupid decision: 

He said to Jacob, “Let me eat some of that red stuff, because I’m exhausted.” That is why he was also named Edom. (Genesis 25:30 CSB). 

It doesn’t sound he knew what the dish was!  “Give that uh…. RED STUFF!” And on top of that, he got a nickname: Edom, meaning “red.”  When you get a nickname for something you ate, it’s always bad.  If I were Esau, the scripture might have read: “’I’m starving! Let me have some of those crunchy things!’ That is why they called him, ‘Doritos’.”

It’s just not safe for me to continue intermittent fasting. I’ll stick to fasting for spiritual growth, not weight loss. It’s just not worth it. Appetites are a part of life but just think of all the people who made bad choices because they let their appetites get the best of them. Take it from a recovering sinner, when you’re hungry for food, power, sex, or notoriety, you tend to make stupid choices. You might even sell your birthright. 

60 years

most of them (I would claim) lagniappe

something extra, but never promised.

I could have found my resting place in 1983

as a log truck (sans lights),

barreled down Hwy 165 in North Louisiana.

I pulled onto the road, and for some odd reason on a moonless night,

I hit the brakes as the phantom monster barreled two feet from the fender

A 2 AM miracle as glorious as the parting of waters outside the corporation limits of Egypt.

Later on, it was the guy line of a telephone pole that snared the bushhog.

Rising high like a killer whale breaching the surface on the water.

Gravity ensued, slamming the engine block to the ground inches from my head as a lay on the ground.

These are just two of many instances that I have slipped through the crooks and crannies between life and death.

In other words, I have played with house-money for years.

(Or so it would seem)

but I contend that I have had a guiding unseen Hand, be it angelic intervention, supernatural consequence, or dumb luck. Although I doubt the latter.

No one could ever be that lucky so often.

But even more so I have been drawn into grace and every sudden rescue reminds me that Jesus is Sustainer, and the degree of difficulty has been mighty high in sustaining me. And I am mercifully still alive after 60 years.

I have lived in the company of saints.

I was raised by two glorious, creative, passionate, flawed saints, Mark and Lillie Tullos. I still dwell under the shadow of their faith. Dad was a force of nature. He was bold. Total extravert. A musical savant. Play a line of music and he could replicate it, without looking at a note. He never met a stranger especially at Walmart. And mom never stopped pressing me. And that’s a good thing. She wasn’t a touchy-feely mom but touch me and you’d feel the force of a thousand Samurai warriors.

My favorite storyteller and theologian is my older sister, Melodye. She is a second mom.

My favorite artist is my brother, Mark. I’ve never met someone so creative and yet so entrepreneurial. He’s built a handful of museums and I’m convinced his paintings will reside in many more after he leaves the planet.’

And the most encouraging, in-my-corner, got your-back-little sister on earth is mine. Her name is Melinda.

I am the one in the family, most uncomfortable in my own skin, often dreaming, rarely sure of myself but still on the hunt for the Great Divine. I am still the little one, dreams are my minions along with a few drunken stragglers I call obsessions.

I have had other guardians. Including:

Obed and Linda Kirkpatrick, Phillip Willis, Dennis Phelps, Benjamin Harlan, Ed and Patsy Sutton, Debi Morris and Eugene Morris, Frank David Bennet, George Clark, Marjorie Radcliffe, Jean Woodye, Vivian Bush, Brooks Faulkner, Henry Webb, Ed and Patsy Sutton, Larry and Jan Payne—and too many more to remember but these are some of the ones I thanked God for yesterday.

I have heroes that shaped my journey Welby Boseman, Ron Brown, John Kyle, Randy Davis, Dennis Parrish, Jimmy Draper, Bill Choate (The guy I want to be like)

Jonathans arrived in every city, job and chapter of my life,

Justin Bufkin (Master Cinematographer), Roger Craig (Savant), Chris Johnson (My yoda), GB Howell (my reality check), Tim Shamburger (My oldest friend…47 Years!) Chris Turner (My Mars Hill companion), Derick Pindroh (My moving buddy), Jeff Wash (My West Texas kindred spirit) and Gavin Stevens (It’s in the movie) Roc Collin (Preach)

This is all stream of consciousness and I’m missing about half of my Jonathans on this post. And I pray I’ve been a Jonathan to others.

A glorious, beautiful collection of guttersnipe brothers called TAK.

I’m also thankful for Elavil. I have taken this one med for 30 years and the one time I tried to taper I ended up in the psychiatric hospital. So every night I say grace, a word of thanks for this old fashioned antidepressant and take the pill.

I share secrets, some kept well and others less cloistered. Steve Holt is the custodian of most these days. He knows where my “jacked up jars” are buried. He knows enough to write a hit piece on me but he has mercifully resisted.

I was blessed with an additional sister, Johanna Leonard. Still to this day, I don’t think she really knows how much confidence she poured into my life in high school. She typed my first play that I wrote by hand and counseled me when my faith hit the rocks of the storm-tossed sea of doubt.

In 2006, I conducted the funeral of my best friend, Danny Dean. In one day, a thousand memories and shared dreams were transported to the unknown country. I didn’t really cry until I drove from the graveside and then I wept for days. There are days when I can’t see his face and it’s in those times that I look at his son’s profile picture and it’s as clear as day. Danny had the force of personality and vision I both admired and coveted. Brutally honest. Fiercely loyal. Everyone knew Danny and I were inseparable, but he took the lead. When left ,(in Frostian terms) I became closely acquainted with the night.

In the building I work, three godly women keep me in line on our corner of the building, Sharlyn, Cynthia, and Tammy. They put up with a lot of disorganization and video editing noise, and they’ve saved me a lot of embarrassment over the past five years.

And of course there is Darlene Tullos

She’s my girl. Darlene has taught me so much about life and I am so glad we didn’t give up on each other during difficult times. She’s helped me find keys, wallets and rental trucks. The beauty married a dyslexic ragamuffin. Her compassion is unfathomable. I’m inspired by her heaven-and-earth moving faith. She and the guys have put up with my inability to say no, my codependency, and the crooked paths we traveled. Never have two more different people married but as the great mystic philosopher Rocky Balboa once said, “She’s got gaps, I’ve got gaps, together we fill gaps.” We are still enjoying the journey. I know the best is yet to come.

God blessed me with four men, Isaac, Jacob, Nathan and Caleb. They are my prizes in my old age. Each one, teaching me so much and giving me reasons to live if only to see what happens next. They are masterpieces with a fierceness of love so great that it overwhelms me.

As I say often:

I am constantly amazed by the faithful love of Jesus.

And as I reflect on the life I’ve lived here, mostly fearful of everything, I realize that I never,

**EVER**

had anything to fear. He has been and always will be, relentlessly faithful, continuously sufficient, and absolutely available. I am still captivated by this lowly carpenter and faithful redeemer- I’m still struggling awkwardly to construct the right syntax and composition of words to describe the One who is truly indescribable. I will continue to try until the book is closed and my time comes.

King Jesus, your presence is palpable, your depth is dependable and your grace undeniable.