carbonated joy

I’m not a big fan of the high top table.
That’s a little vague…
Let me make this clear, I HATE HIGH TOP TABLES!
It’s not because I have a hostility towards furniture.
It’s because I have legs that are barely 20 inches long. I’m not built for high top chairs. My low riding butt comes no where near the seat. Every time I try to sit in one I come close to bursting my spleen. It takes a lot of really embarrassing, completely public effort for this little freak to sit at a high top table. I once tried to get a running start and almost broke my tooth. I’ve tried to climb up the chair, which would have  been easier if I was actually coordinated at all. I’ve dived in and ended up beached on my belly like a short legged penguin. It gets weird.
A while back I was in a meeting where everyone was sitting at a high top table, after 3 or 4 ugly and unsuccessful attempts to hoist myself onto the chair, I gave up and awkwardly stood at the table. My coworkers were laughing too hard to offer to pick me up like a baby and put me on the chair. I would have let them do it, it might have taken 2 or 3 of them, but I was already feeling pretty embarrassed at that point.
Sometimes you get the feeling there’s not a place at the table for you, that is what high tops symbolize to me. They smell like exclusion. And that is sad, because I AM a big fan of tables. Tables are an incredibly important piece of furniture. Tables create space for supper, story and stillness. It’s a place meant to break bread and break barriers.

I think that sometimes we turn faith into a high-top table. We tell people there is a place at the table for them, but then we make it out of their reach. In the Bible, the Pharisees were the keepers of the hi-tops. They were the religious leaders who made the table unattainable for the undesirables. They heap rules and expectations and appropriateness upon people. The Pharisees were the people who were self-appointed to speak FOR God, without ever speaking OF God, there is a big difference.
In contrast, When I think about the story of Jesus, I see him at a lot of tables, but I don’t think they were hi-tops.
He invited a lot of lowlifes to the table. Lowlifes can rarely reach the high top.
One time, He did knock over some tables in the temple. He didn’t hate the furniture, I think he did it because people were using the tables to take advantage of the poor and excluding the powerless…basically the lowlifes. It seems that Jesus has a problem when there isn’t a place for everyone at the table, so he overturned the tables, I like to think they were high-tops.
At one table, what we call the last supper, Jesus was reclining with his friends…RECLINING!! In order to sit at this table, They were required to recline. It was about “how low can you go?”, the table wasn’t out of reach for anyone. Apparently, for Jesus, tables were an excuse to say “c’mon! Take your seat, take a load off, recline, rest…I’ve got this”.
That’s REALLY good news!
Jesus invites us to sit and enjoy supper, story and stillness.
Jesus hangs out with lowlifes like me, you can’t do that at high-top tables.
There’s a place for me, there’s a place for you, there’s a place for that person that bugs us.
Take a seat.

We learn them early in life, the rules of uniformity.
It’s pretty simple, if you want to be a part of US,
You need to dress-act-think like the rest of US.
The secret to acceptance and approval lies in conformity.
We are told to shut up and conform. Don’t be different; don’t make waves. Dress like everybody else. Think like everybody else. Act like everybody else. If you want to fit in, you have to blend in. Get in line.
It’s all so very uniform.
Life can begin to seem like one big dress code. Believe it or not, I’ve never been a big fan of dress codes. They confine and define. They deny admission and belonging. We think that it’s just about peer pressure, something we will outgrow or escape as we become fully bonded adult humans. But we never seem to outgrow the call to conformity. Go to most offices or churches, and you’ll find people all dressed alike—not because they want to, but because it’s the norm. People try to make us like them, we try to make people like us.
Act like me…think like me…dress like me…
I hate dress codes, I hate dress clothes. They never fit me right, especially dress pants. They make me itchy and uncomfortable. Nothing ever looks right, either. Everything I wear looks baggy because I have a baggy body.
One day I realized I didn’t want to conform. I saw conformity as a vicious social cycle that never lets up. It’s like a really crowded, out-of-control merry-go round. You frantically try to look and act like everyone else and you forget who you really are. The unchanging fact is that fashion constantly changes, so you’re constantly forced to redefine yourself. I hear people say they boldly and bravely dress a certain way because they want to express themselves, yet they express themselves by looking, acting, and thinking like everyone else. That is a little messed up.
I didn’t want to be like everybody else—that’s boring. I wanted to be me. Even now I still dress like I did when I was 12. I wear wrinkled T-shirts (preferably with a picture of a superhero or one of my favorite sports teams), baggy shorts, and Chuck Taylors.
The problem is that somewhere along the line, we start to believe being different is somehow bad. We think the key to survival and acceptance is conformity. We should all work hard to look, act, and think the same. We make SAME the goal. We desperately try to be SAME. We spend our lives in the sea of SAME, thinking that will make us happy, accepted and well adjusted humans.
But, my friends, the liberating truth is…
DIFFERENT IS GOOD.
DIFFERENT IS DESIGN.
Different is proof we have a Creator who has a wild imagination and a great sense of humor.
Be yourself.
Be different.
Be weird.
Be original.
Be willing to be misunderstood.
Don’t let anyone press you into some stupid mold. Maybe you look or dress different than anyone else. Maybe you act or think a little different than other people OR maybe you don’t.
Just be you, the completely original, never to be duplicated YOU!
Here’s an actual factual that hopefully sets you at ease: God doesn’t want you to be anything or anybody that you aren’t.
Just be yourself for God.
Be yourself for himself.
When we decide to live for him, God doesn’t change our passions or personality. He changes our purpose and our priorities. He knows you. He designed you, even all the weirdness. So be who God made you to be.
Own your weirdness.
Conformity is putting unnatural stress on yourself.
Conformity is a cage with an open door.
You don’t have to work at different, it’s a liberating thing to just be yourself. It gives you wings.
We were all designed to be different. A soup or stew with only one ingredient would be pretty bland. The variety of ingredients is what makes things tasty. There is a flavor that only you can bring to this bland world. We need your flavor. Be yourself, for therein lies the magic and the miracle. As you encounter and eventually embrace who you were born to be, miraculous things take place. You’re set free from the chains of conformity.
Conformity is the natural enemy of creativity.
I refuse to conform because I’m a piece of art. I’m a priceless, one-of-a-kind masterpiece—and so are you.
You might not feel like a masterpiece, but you are. You might feel your life is anything but art right now. That’s only because you’re too close to yourself.
In our city there is an amazing art gallery. It’s an incredible place that inspires the snot out of me (not literally…that would be gross). I just sit at a distance and stare at some of the amazing paintings.
Now imagine YOU are at an art museum, you are walking around, soaking it all in, and then you walk right up to a framed painting. You get so close to the painting your nose is touching it. It’s a beautiful painting of a nature scene complete with thick green grass, a babbling waterfall, and big oak trees with a chubby brown squirrel sitting on a branch. But you can’t appreciate the painting because you’re too close. All you can see is a green blur, a skinny blue mark, and a brown spot. It makes no sense because your perspective is all messed up. But if you step back a few feet, everything starts to take shape, and you can see the waterfall and the tree and even the cute little squirrel.
Life can be the same. You don’t realize that you’re too close to see the whole picture clearly. As you get older and get a little more perspective, things will start shaping up.
You ALSO need to remember that not only are you a masterpiece, but EVERYbody else is ALSO a masterpiece. EVERYONE on this planet is art, whether they act like it or not. The placement or use of a masterpiece doesn’t make it art, the touch of the artist creates art. You need to treat EVERYone you meet like art. We need to give others the space and the grace to be themselves. That means we don’t put down or disrespect the art in others. Imagine once again you’re back at the art gallery, and there’s a big opening. An amazing artist is there showing off some of his favorite work. You walk in and walk up to a piece, clear your throat, and spit on his painting (shocking!!). How do you think the artist would feel? Hurt? Angry? Disrespected? If you disrespect the creation, you’re disrespecting the creator.
When we disrespect people, the walking, talking art around us, we’re disrespecting the Creator, the artist who crafted them. I think God takes that personally. Respect the art, respect the Artist. Allow others to be themselves.

Conformity really is a crime against the Creator.

To be anything other than yourself is to deny the divine. God has unleashed amazing creative diversity and wild beauty in you. For us to try to contain the creativity just isn’t right.

It snowed over six inches at our house this weekend . Snow days are REALLY inconvenient. They totally interfere with our life. They mess with our plans, we have things we HAVE to do. We have to take care of business, snow days get in the way of that.
Maybe, that’s the point!
Maybe, just maybe, when we get a snow day, God wants it to interfere with our routine.
Maybe, the Scriptor of seasons wants us to take a SLOW day, maybe the Creator wants to give us a SHOW day.
Maybe, God wants us to SLOW down…rest, listen, pay attention, and play.
Maybe, God wants to SHOW us a beautiful object lesson…freshly fallen art, the power of pure covering the grit of the neighborhood.
Maybe, It’s a good time to SLOW down and let our kids SHOW us how to play…make some snow angels, turn some cardboard into a sled, throw snowballs at each other’s face, that is fun for the whole family! But if you’re too busy, you miss it!
Maybe, a SNOW day is a real good time to SLOW down, breathe, read or SHOW our family some love by reconnecting over some steaming hot cocoa (sorry, but I think it has to be the kind with the miniature marshmallows!!)
Maybe, it’s a perfect opportunity to cancel our plans and turn a SNOW day into a SLOW day that can become a pretty amazing SHOW day.
Now, excuse me, I’ve got to find some of those miniature marshmallows.

We’re on the island of misfit toys, here we don’t want to stay.

One of my all time favorite holiday shows is Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. I love it. Maybe, it’s because I can relate to the story of a hairy misfit with a squeaky voice. The show has been on every year since 1964, so I’m betting you know the story. So I will just recap, Rudolph had a nose that resembled a glow stick. This seems to be pretty unnatural. Because of this, he didn’t fit in and subsequently didn’t get to play any reindeer games. His life is hard, Everyone makes fun of him, and even his own father is ashamed of him. So, he runs away. He meets Hermey, a career confused elf, and they decide to be “independent together”…crazy irony. They encounter Yukon Cornelius, a burly prospector with no gold. He acts as their guide and together they set off. It’s a perilous journey, they are in constant danger from the super creepy abominable snowman. They stumble across the island of misfit toys, it is there that they meet a singing spotted elephant (how unsightly), a choo-choo with square wheels on it’s caboose (how embarrassing!!), and a water pistol that shoots jelly (how sticky!!). They jerkily dance in stop motion movements and sing “We are all misfits”.
It’s pretty moving.
Rudolph was a misfit because he was physically different. Hermey was a misfit by choice, he didn’t accept the status quo. He wanted to be a dentist. Yukon Cornelius was loud and socially awkward. They WERE all misfits.
So
Are
We.
We are all misfits.
As I ponder the story, here is what my misfit mind has figured out: Some of us are misfits because of something we were born with that makes us different. We could perceive it as a limitation, when like a shiny red nose, it is meant to be a light.
Some of us are misfits because we have a dream or belief or passion that just won’t let us blend in. We choose to misfit.
Some of us are misfits because our personality cause us to be a constant square peg in a round hole world.
Some of us are a misfit mashup.
Regardless of where we find ourselves, the point is clear…
We are all misfits.
Some misfitness is harder to hide. But, the simple truth is no matter how hard we try to fit in, we are all part of the misfit nation. There is something that makes you different from everyone else who has ever lived. That is art not accident.
We are all misfits, none of us fit in everywhere. We find ourselves on the same island, it is our differences that make us same. Our uncommon creates common ground.
We try so hard to get off the island, We try to be normal. We conform because we have listened to the lies of the evil toytaker. We don’t realize that misfits aren’t the same thing as mistakes.
To the good Toymaker, misfit is just another word for interesting. He took the time to give each of us the beautiful gift of uniqueness. He didn’t have to. It wasn’t necessary. It surely would have been easier for Him to make a bunch of colorless robots who can only conform, but that takes creativity and love out of the equation…BORING!! The Toymaker is not BORING!
You weren’t meant to be boring either!
You weren’t born to fit in, you were designed to stand out.
We sing songs about Rudolph BECAUSE he was different, and BECAUSE he found a way to use his different to overcome darkness.
Different was originally designed to defeat darkness.
We are all misfits.
We are supposed to be.
You are misfit, not mistake.
You are art, not accident.
Why in the world would you want to fit in?!
Fly your misfit flag!!
Sing your song and shine a light in the dark.

We’re on the Island of Misfit toys.

Once upon a time, not too long ago, my wife, Diana and I were out for a nice walk. It was a chilly Carolina night in December. We were strolling around our busy neighborhood shopping village. As We rounded a corner there was a little girl with her family. She looked up at me and suddenly started shaking, almost uncontrollably. I was a little concerned by this reaction to me, but then I noticed that there was a look of unhinged joy on her face. She did a little completely uncoordinated happy dance. She pointed at me and shouted “SANTA CLAUS!!!” Her parents were totally embarrassed. They unsuccessfully tried to hush her up and hurry her along. Diana reassured them that it actually happens a lot this time of year, it MIGHT have something to do with the big white beard and the equally big belly. Maybe, it’s the elf like stature. I couldn’t believe how excited she was, but then I realized that I was HER Elvis. To a four year old there is no bigger celebrity than Santa. And, let’s face it, if you are going to be mistaken for an icon, you could do worse.

But, suddenly, I realized that I had a huge responsibility. I represented a beloved childhood hero.
There is a responsibility to representation.
I could have crushed her dreams by acting like a jerk. I could have been mean or taken myself too seriously and broke her heart.
I could have been a bad Santa.
Instead I did everything in my power to represent well. My jolly “Have you been a good girl?” was met with wide eyed agreement.
It was a sweet, wonder filled moment that I would have missed if I didn’t represent well.

Everybody is looking for a hero.
We want someone big enough to live up to our hopes and expectations.
I only know one Hero who can stand up under the weight of belief.
If we are Christians we represent that hero.
There is a responsibility to representation.
Do we get mistaken for Jesus?
It’s all about HIS reputation.
Psalms 23:3 says: “He guides me along the right paths for HIS name’s sake.”
The stuff that God does in and with us is for HIS reputation, not ours.
It’s not about my good name.
My reputation is shot, the gig is up. People know me. My name will never be good enough.
BUT, I get a fresh chance to represent my hero.
It’s all about HIS reputation, HIS name (which is above all names).
There is a responsibility to representing His reputation.
If I bear the name Christian, I represent the Christ.
Do I get mistaken for my hero, Jesus?
Do I represent him by how I treat my family, my friends, my enemies, my barista, total strangers?
Do I get mistaken for my hero?
Because, I want to.
I can’t act like a jerk, I can’t take MYself too seriously.
People are looking for a hero. I can’t get in the way.
People are holding out for a hero. I know that Hero. I represent that Hero.
There are sweet, wonder filled moments that I will miss if I don’t represent well.

I am quilt.

I am handcrafted from patches of story and struggles.
I’ve been stuffed and stitched and repeatedly mended.
The fabric of my life is layered, it is woven with the beautiful hues of family and freedom. It is interwoven with the multicolored quilts around me. Together we are art.
The older I get the more comfortable I am with who I am.
I may look a little faded and worn, but I believe my most vibrant colors haven’t been revealed yet.
I’m constructed to warm hearts and comfort souls.

I am quilt.

When I was ten years old, I got an amazing Christmas gift!
It was a “Six Million Dollar Man” action figure (I want to clarify, it wasn’t a doll, boys have action figures. It was a fully posable, totally manly action figure…NOT a doll).
AND…
It was AWESOME.
It had some mind blowing special features, you could roll up the skin on his arm and look at his bionic parts (okay, that seems a little gross now, but then it was very cool and cutting edge toy stuff). You could also look through the back of his head through a slightly wonky looking eye and see in “bionic vision”. He wore a standard issued red track suit with matching rubber sneakers. There was a lever on his back that lifted his arm and actually picked up really heavy things, like the plastic toy engine block that was included in the package.
The thing that makes it even more special was that it was the only gift that my Dad ever actually picked out and wrapped for me. Mom usually took care of the gift getting and giving. She was good at it, she found creative ways to stretch the budget and make memories. But, in December 1975 she had a surgery that slowed down her Santa duties. So, Dad had to step up. He SERIOUSLY hated crowds and shopping. So he had to summon all the retail courage he could muster and go to the TG&Y store to get this coveted gift for his oldest son.
It was a big deal.
It was one of my favorite toys EVER!
I had many imagination fueled adventures with my six million dollar friend.
But, in the course of childhood, REAL toys get played with. They get torn up and thrown out. They go on one too many adventures, buried in the mud or they get blown up with firecrackers.
Steve Austin crashed and burned.
I thought the Six Million Dollar Man was a goner.
But, it turns out that…
“We can regift him. We have the technology. We can make him better. Better…stronger…faster.”
30 years after my first bionic buddy, on a brisk Texas Christmas morning, I got another one! My super amazing wife, Diana, had the technology to make it happen. She went on eBay and found a second Steve Austin action figure! He had the same wonky eye, same red track suit! He is in my office today.
It is AWESOME!!
I’ve heard it said that you can’t go back.
I think you can, and it can be better.
I think you can regift a memory.
AND, you can make it better…stronger…faster.