but what about me?

Everyone knows the story of the Prodigal Son; the younger of two brothers who humiliates his family and squanders his fathers inheritance only to return home to a warm hug, new clothes and a huge party. It’s a beautiful parable about grace and forgiveness when it’s the last thing we deserve.

But there is part of this story that is often overlooked. There is someone in this story I find myself relating to more often than the Prodigal Son.

The older brother was loyal to his father. He worked hard, followed commands and never neglected his responsibilities. I imagine, too, that when his younger brother left, he picked up the slack, doing twice as much work as he had before.

So when his younger brother came home from his irresponsible and selfish escapades and he heard the party that was being thrown for him, he became angry, refusing to go in and celebrate. “Look! For so many years I have been serving you and I have never neglected a command of yours; and yet you have never given me a young goat, so that I might celebrate with my friends; but when this son of years came home, who has devoured your wealth with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him.” (Luke 15:29-30)

At first he sounds like a whiny child, throwing a temper tantrum because his brother has something he wants. But he sort of has a point, doesn’t he? He never left, never put his father through such heartache, never insulted his family and yet, his brother, an irresponsible, egotistical prick comes back home and gets all the nicest things while he is left with nothing? It doesn’t seem fair.

“We’ve always done everything right! We tithe; we spend our money wisely and save accordingly. I’ve seen how irresponsible they are so why does it seem like their business is doing so well and we are barely making ends meet? Why do they make more money than we do when they have screwed up so many times and we’ve been so faithful?”

“I am constantly working hard for my company. I work late, I come in early and I sacrifice time with my family to help others. Yet, no one ever recognizes the good that I do. Everyone praises her for just doing her job while all the extra I do is overlooked and never acknowledged.”

“I’ve dedicated my life to Christ and those around me who never give him a second thought seem to have it so much easier.”

“I’m tired of doing good when it doesn’t even seem to matter anyway.”

The older brother had the privilege of serving his father and he allowed that privilege to turn into a resentful obligation in his heart.

Ouch.

Sins of the heart are so much harder to repent from because they are so much easier to hide. That’s why Jesus so frequently speaks to the issues of our hearts, the things only we think and feel and know. Things that if we allow to fester and go un-named, will eat us up from the inside out. Wanting to be noticed and acknowledged, especially for the hard work that we do, is normal human nature, yet Christ calls us to die to ourselves. The sinful attitudes of our hearts have a way of becoming oddly comforting and affirming and if we allow them to go unchallenged, they will eventually hold us captive. And Jesus came to set the captive free.

The father came out and began pleading with the older brother to join the celebration. The older brother had also sinned and the Father is offering the same grace and forgiveness to him.

The text never tells us what the older son decided to do. But I pray that as I stand daily on the threshold of grace, I choose to recognize my need for a savior and joyfully join the party of redemption. 

An Ode to the Kansas City Royals.

If you haven’t lived in Kansas City the past 29 years, it’s hard to understand what this October meant for us. It’s hard for an outsider to understand how far we’ve come. How bad we truly were. I remember buying tickets for Royals games at $7 a piece and the best part of a game being the stale hot dog I ate during buck night. Many times I drove by Kauffman Stadium on a Saturday afternoon and saw more empty seats than filled ones. A town that at times would have rather of had no team at all then to continue and support the Royals.

I was born and raised in a city with both a professional football and baseball team, yet I’ve never experienced the Big Dance in either sport. Until now. Until October 2014 when the Royals made it to the Postseason and ultimately, the World Series.

I got to experience a city rally together, Royals hats everywhere, chatter amongst strangers about the game in line at Starbucks, kids running around blue fountains with Kansas City flags waving them like a call to battle. I witnessed crowded stores with people standing in line for a t-shirt. I drove around this city in awe as businesses, schools, Westport, The Plaza, even Arrowhead, all came together to support our boys in blue.

I saw a young team in spite of being overlooked and laughed at, show big, royal blue heart.

When the Royals made it to the World Series after 29 years of not even making the postseason, it was what dreams are made of. After a hellacious week, the series was tied 3-3 and it all came down to this. Game 7 at Kauffman. Hollywood directors can’t write a script this good.

But unlike a movie script ending, the Royals lost with a final score of 3-2. A triple by Alex Gordon in the bottom of the 9^th followed by a pop fly ball to third by Perez ended the game. And just like that, October baseball was over.

Optimistic fans flooded Facebook with encouraging words like,

“Don’t worry, we’ll get them next year!”

But what if we don’t? Because more than likely, we won’t.

It hard to explain why giving it everything you have, training right, working hard and wanting it more than anything else in the world, simply isn’t enough sometimes.

It’s hard to explain why David never beats Goliath.

Oh, but sometimes, he does. Because even though we lost the World Series, the Royals won a wild card game in the bottom of the 12^th and Kansas City got to witness what some are calling one of the best games of any sport ever played.

Then the Royals went on to sweep the Angels, statistically the best team in baseball with the most wins during the regular season. And sometimes taking down Goliath looks like sweeping the O’s to win the ALCS and taking the Giants to game seven, bottom of the 9^th in the World Series.

When you lose the World Series, it’s almost like grieving. First, you are in shock, then angry and finally obsessively replaying the final moments over and over again in your mind wondering what could have been different.

But after a good cry and plenty of lamenting, something keeps us coming back. Something wakes us up in the morning, excited for next season, willing to put ourselves through it all over again.

For the players, it may be the love of the game and the history and relationship they have with baseball.

For the fans, I think its community. I think it’s belonging to something bigger than you. I think it’s participating in something that brings friends, family and a city together.

I think its hope. I think it’s the lesson that teaches us to give it everything you have because you never know if you never try.

So today I tip my hat to you, The Kansas City Royals. THANK YOU. It was a hell of a season and you should be damn proud of yourselves. 

these are a few of my favorite things about 2013.

I went to Nashville this fall to visit a friend and ate Jeni’s Ice Cream twice in one day. I have no regrets.

I fell in love with Portland, Maine and their Bean Boots, Nosh burgers and lighthouses.

In Boston, I ate a hot dog at Fenway Park on game day.

My CHIEFS started the season 9-0 after winning only 2 games the previous year. This city just feels different with a winning football team. However, something happened to us after those first 9 weeks and although we made the playoffs, we blew the second biggest led ever in playoff history.

We had a party to celebrate the end of arguably the best Television drama ever-Breaking Bad.

Our best friends moved back to Kansas City to start a church and I could not be more proud or excited for them. Go here to check it out.

Lola was an angel for Halloween and it was all her idea.

I ran my one and only 5K for 2013 on Thanksgiving Day with my mom.

Other great things included...

…Being here every Sunday morning.

…Brandon spending 3 weeks in India.

…Cutting my hand at work whist slicing an avocado resulting in 6 stitches.

…This picture of Lola on Christmas Eve.

So here I am, January 1, facing the fact that I made and kept none of the resolutions I made this time last year. Zero. Zilch. Nada. (Well, that’s not entirely true. I did work out on a weekly basis, but ate horrible after work most mornings. We didn’t save monetarily what I had hoped we would in 2013, I definitely didn’t read through the entire Bible and I’m pretty sure I had a soda before the end of the day.)

Why can’t we keep resolutions? Why do we always have the best intentions (“I’m really going to do it this time!”) only to fall back in the same routine, same habits, the same miserable, self-destructive ways? 

Because they are just that. Habits. Routines. And habits are hard to break and routines are difficult to change. As human beings, we are trained to seek pleasure over pain and change hurts. However, there is something hopeful and encouraging about the prospect of a New Year that inspires change and however painful it may be, change is possible. It’s possible when we believe it’s possible. (“She believed she could and she was half way there.”) It’s possible when we replace our old habits with a new routine and we make the daily decisions that match our desires.

My fitness goals for 2014 include running a half marathon (I’m pretty sure this has been on the list since I was 20) committing to doing Bodypump twice a week, doing 5 push-ups on my toes and hopefully in the process, lose 40 pounds.

I want to watch less television (ok, after I finish Game of Thrones) and read more books. I’m taking any and all suggestions.

Our church is embarking on a pretty huge (and extremely necessary) expansion project. We made a generosity pledge that I would like to fulfill and involve my whole family in the process.

Every year I repeatedly pray a specific scripture over Lola-a mantra, if you will. I whisper it in her ear as she falls asleep, as we pray together in church, or during quiet moments throughout the day. The idea is that through repetition, it will not only be memorized in her mind but also engraved on her heart. This year I picked Hebrews 10:23:

“Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.”

This year, I am making it my mantra as well. In 2014, I want to learn to TRUST and know he is faithful. God is never late. I want to live out good days full with people and messes and relationship. To live in the present and have a heart that is generous and thankful. I want to be responsible with the days I have been given and live wisely, learning perspective.