a simple truth: I need to let go


I looked at my reflection in the screen of my ipad, it was a dark murky shape.  I couldn’t distinguish any specific features.  My head was only represented as a dark blobbed mass on the screen.  My eyes…indiscernible.  What I could see though, was the evidence of heavy use.  This device had been run through the mill.  My children had downloaded a boatload of “apps”, some including baby dress-up games, makeup games, car racing games and galactic alien invasion games as well.  Fingerprints painted the screen through heavy use like a paintbrush transplanting color onto a blank canvas.  


As I stared at the blank – fingerprinted graffiti-ed screen, a moment of clarity (which clearly wasn’t evident on this screen of hard-use) occurred to me:  

Epiphany – (maybe a momentary Theophany…right Phil Davisson?) 

My life is like this tablet’s screen.  Sometimes, when I allow my life to be used, the fingerprints of God are painted all over my screen.  In the background there is a garbled image…a shadow of a man.  Yet when I let God use me as He wills, my life becomes vibrant, the screen comes alive and suddenly the light is on…I can finally see.  As this momentary epiphany occurred, then evaporated like wisps of vapor, a question began to take shape in my mind…and heart.  


Question: “How often do I clutch onto my life and refuse God access?”  
Somewhere in a small corner of my heart a response came.  It was faint.  It was quiet.  It was truth. 
“Scott, you do this often!  Why are you so afraid of me?”  

Call it what you will.  Chalk it up to an active imagination…an overworked, tired mind.  

But I know what I heard.  
I recognized the truth…even though it hurt.  I had been holding back.  I had be tightly clutching onto my feeble existence, holding it like a treasure to share with no one.  

Are you clutching onto your life?  Are you refusing God access? 
Or are there fingerprints of God all over your life?  Are there signs of holy use?

Please don’t let me think that I’m alone in this.  How long have I withheld myself from Him?  How long have I been tightly clutching onto something that God wants to use and make better?  

It was a simple moment…it was a silly electronic device that will probably be obsolete in a matter of two years…yet a simple truth seeped into my heart.  And words formed on my dry tongue: “Lord use me…Here I am…Take all there is of me.”  

I still clutch sometimes.  
I still refuse to let go at times.
I’m not there yet…but that simple moment has made all of the difference to my heart, soul, and mind. 

Are YOU ready to let go?  

Confessions of a Deadman


What would the conversation look like?  The amazement.  The confusion.  He had been dead…as a door nail.  What’s a door nail by the way?…ok I digress.  The look of shock, the spirit of disbelief in his sister’s eyes.  They had been there when he had breathed his last.  They had mourned his passing.  The sting of death still lingered in their hearts and minds like the peeling blister on a sunburn.  This emotional roller coaster had just careened into the station though their stomachs and emotions still lingered somewhere behind them on the track.  

It had been four days since he had died.  Four long and agonizing days.  How his sisters had wept bitterly.  How little they had slept…was this all a dream?  Could this really be happening?  What goes on in the spiritual realm when someone dies?  What did Lazarus go through in those four days of death?  Did he see a great light?  Did he have an out of body experience?  Was he in heaven?  Oh how little we know about the life to come.  


Sitting at the table with a deadman, what must his sisters have wanted to ask.  “Did you see any family there?”  “Did you meet Yahweh?”  “What was it like?”  Idle curiosity must have played a factor in this postmortem interval family reunion.  After four days in the tomb, in his final resting place, he was hungry.  Sitting at the table with nourishment (evidence and a source of all preservation of life) of water and food Lazarus, who was now reanimated.  He longed to soak up his sister’s presence once more.  They lingered together.  Isn’t it interesting how we miss the company of those we love when we have been far from them?  Death, though only separated by this thin membrane of a veil, had separated these loved ones from each other…now it had been torn with the authority of Jesus’ words;   “Lazarus, come forth!”  

What did Lazarus experience at this call?  Not only did his deceased bones reanimate, but with it organs, blood circulation and brain function reignited as well.  The impossible became possible.  The very breath of life exhaled and inhaled into dormant unusable lungs of a corpse.  

What could he tell his family of such an experience?  What did this deadman have to say?  Jesus, the life bringer, had raised him from the dead…he had kicked the bucket, shuffled off his mortal coil…he was completely and totally devoid of life.  Lazarus had experienced the mystery of the great beyond and his sisters would undoubtedly hang on his every word in his retelling…wouldn’t you?  We read of stories of children and adults who have experienced something when they had “died” and were then resuscitated.  We are truly a curious creation aren’t we?  We want to know what is next.  What comes after this life.  Some ask if there really is something after this life.  I doubt Lazarus would have had any other doubts about the existence of the hereafter.  

Do you have doubts?  We all do from time to time.  Perhaps Jesus needs to breathe some life into our doubting hearts.  Perhaps we need Him to call us forth from our caves or tombs of doubt.  I often find myself like Thomas longing to physically touch his nail wrecked hands and feet.  I long for the tangible frequently when faith has pushed off from the docks of reality and the “real world”.  Please tell me I am not the only one?  Don’t misunderstand what I am saying.  I am not saying I disbelieve, but I am saying that I often find myself on those docks of belief watching faith ship off without me aboard.  I long yearn to be aboard but something has stopped me.  In a very real sense I am the deadman in need of being resurrected.  My faith needs resurrecting daily.  Don’t think ill of me…it’s a principle of momentum.  

Momentum has a way of pushing and driving something forward…if I stop, momentum stops.  In application of this principle, if I stop my prayer life, if I hit the pause button on my devotion life (my quiet times with the Lord), if I halt my daily conversations with The Father…I have lost momentum, and in this loss I am once again a deadman.  I am once again in need of reanimation.  I need to be called forth.  Am I alone in this?  Please tell me I am not.  I doubt I am.  I think you may relate to me.  This is my confession of a deadman…Jesus, call me forth again!  

-Just a thought.  

Elijah in You (Poem)

“But He wasn’t in the earthquake or fire” (1Kings 19)

It is at wits-end that God is there
but He is also there when tears fall
before you call, He has heard your heart
from the start, you’re never alone.
Sometimes like Elijah depressed and dejected
emotionally high yet fear has boldly infected
the soul with a broken heart inside
waiting for God to show up as you hide…
no, not fire, or earthquake He’s in
but His still small voice, He knows where you’ve been
you might feel weak and powerlessly alone
but find strength, He will come
He won’t leave you alone, 
Hold on, don’t you quit, or lose sight
See, here He comes with power and might
don’t lose fight, don’t believe the lie
the strength you now have, comes from on high. 
You don’t need to call down fire from above
you don’t need to have visions to receive His love
but faithfulness in spite of the place
His rescue comes in full as does His grace.   


I Am…
Two simple
So much…
With so little…
Calling to existance
Resistance of
The invisible
The indefensible
More than,
not static

Uniquely Created, One of a Kind!

I remember thousands of twinkling Christmas lights setting fire to the room with its ambient glows of reds, greens, and oranges. For every Christmas light, tinsel was draped precariously in every nook and cranny in the small room. Where ever the tinsel fell is where light spill out in all directions as the semi metallic coating reflected Christmas in every corner and in every crack in the wall as well.

This is my first real, tangible memory of Christmas. It was on the Island of St. Helena, I know there was Christmas’ before this one, but at four years old who can remember the years leading up to my first memory? Father Christmas had not arrived yet on that volcanic rock of an Island. The weather was most definitely not frightful outside either; I guess living near the equator does have its drawbacks if one is expecting a white Christmas. I don’t remember whose house I was in, or why I was there, but the gaudy tinsel and the Christmas lights are forever etched in my mind, like a chiseled marble statue of a Greek god in Greece, this memory is the quintessential celebration of the Christ-mas on the island of St. Helena for me. To this day there is that warm feeling I get when I draw back the now older and dusty curtains of my mind and think of that time long ago…in a faraway place. It is this fond thought there in my childhood, that I, with child-like eyes, drew joy, love and peace in but a moment in time. That memory is still something that I cling to even now as an adult when other memories are not as resplendent or warm and fuzzy.

Isn’t it funny how specific moments in time are captured so vividly in the recesses of our mind, and if we think on them from time to time it is like watching a re-run of your favorite movie. I would never want to trade such memories for anything in the world! These memories are unique to me, to who I am as a person and who I was then as a child. No one else shares these specific memories with me; and my perspective as a four year old in a big world would also make each captured still frame in my mind one of a kind in this world.

Isn’t it interesting to think that each of us carries these types of memories that are one of a kind, and are specifically unique to our brain’s hard drive? For example, no one else in this world shares your memories and perspectives of the first time you actually rode a bike. Perhaps you had a parent there keeping you balanced, but even their memory of that occasion varies from your account. Perhaps it wouldn’t vary all that much, but your parent wasn’t seated on the bicycle they were next to you as you pushed and pumped those foot pedals in order to obtain one of your first moments of childhood liberation. Our memories, our recollections make each and every one of us unique and different from the next. Just as our fingerprints are never duplicated; so too our memories are our own to keep and to treasure.

The same can be said for our conversion experiences as well. All of our salvation stories are unique and one of a kind. God speaks to each of us in our own unique and special ways. No two conversion stories will ever be the same, because God has crafted us from different canvases. We all share His image in some way shape or form because we have been made in His image. Let’s take that thought a step further however, if we are all made in the image of God and each of us are cut from different canvases then we can begin to grasp just a fragment of the scope and scale in which this creator God has created us and the world around us, but also bits and pieces of His character as well. Because if we are created in His image, and no two people in this world are alike (minus identical twins) then we are to understand our Creator is unique, vast in identity and mighty in His creations. My memories are mine, shared only in snap shots that I can describe and with my God who sees all and lives these experiences with me. Sometimes we feel alone, sometimes we wonder if anyone will ever understand what we’ve been through or who we truly are…God knows you, and God understands you!

You are unique and special to Him! You are one of a kind in this universe; it is by design that you are created so. You also look like the Creator, perhaps sin has marred that image, but you are His! Take a moment today and consider this thought today! Accept it, embrace it, and then live it.



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