No Coincidences

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  • Abraham’s Faith

    Abraham’s Faith

    I had a thought (shocker).

    I shared last week about Abraham’s shared experience of almost being sacrificed by his father.

    Here’s another way to look at it.

    We marvel at the faith of Abraham to sacrifice his son. He didn’t know that God would stop him moments before he went through with it. For all Abraham knew, his son would be dead, gone. And yet, he was still willing to do what God asked him to do.

    We marvel at this faith to do the impossible.

    What about God, when it came to sacrificing His only Son? Well, we would say, God knew the end. He knew His Son would conquer death and be resurrected. He knew His Son’s death would only be temporary. He’s God. He has nothing to worry about. Abraham was just a man. Abraham had no such knowledge.

    Or did he? 

    Faith is the “assurance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1). Faith, by its nature, is to not have a perfect knowledge of things. Was Abraham’s faith so perfect that he did know, just like God knew with Jesus Christ, that everything would be ok?

    Abraham had a promise from God. God promised Abraham that his seed would be as numerous as the stars in the heavens and the sands of the sea. Abraham had some understanding of the eternities. It didn’t matter to him when the promises of God would be fulfilled. He trusted God. He had a perfect knowledge that God would keep his promises. 

    Now. The gut-wrenching, heart-tearing, indescribable and impossible act of losing your son. The pain. What about that? Abraham had faith that God would even make that right. Abraham had faith that God would only allow him to do what ultimately he needed to do to become who he could become. Abraham trusted God enough to do anything. Why? I think because he knew God loved him. Abraham didn’t have faith that God loved him, didn’t hope that God loved him, didn’t believe that God loved him. He knew. 

    Maybe faith proceeds knowledge.

    If we truly understand God’s love for us, His children, we can do anything, and endure anything.

    Abraham didn’t know the exact result of the sacrifice of his son. But he did know that God kept His promises. And hew knew that God loved him. And whatever the result, it would all work out for their benefit, glory, and growth in the long run. 

    That is faith.

  • Abraham’s Sacrifice

    Abraham’s Sacrifice

    “Yet Abraham himself came from a troubled family – his father, who had abandoned the true worship of God, tried to have Abraham sacrificed to false gods.”

    Come Follow Me Curriculum

    And you thought your parents were bad. They ever try to sacrifice you to false gods? 

    When I read that above quote, I thought about something I’d never connected in my mind before.  

    The story of Abraham almost sacrificing his son Isaac is a well-known biblical story of true faith. What I’d never connected with this, though, was the almost sacrifice of Abraham by his father many years prior. 

    There’s a lot to unravel there. 

    What occurred to me was this: Not only was this an unbearably difficult test Abraham was given; to sacrifice and kill his most precious, only son. It also, likely, spurred up painful memories of when Abraham’s father offered him as a sacrifice. (If all things are a type and a shadow of greater things, and Abraham represents God in sacrificing His only begotten son, what does this say about God?) 

    In that moment, with the added guilt and pain of losing his precious son, did Abraham also wonder about the damage he was causing his son? If by some miracle Isaac surived, how would he feel about almost being sacrificed? Abraham went through the same with his father.

    Another way to think about this – Abraham’s father is demonized for his part in almost sacrificing his son. Abraham is revered for his almost role in sacrificing his son. What is the difference? Well, the difference, I assume, is the intent, the heart, and the being to whom the sacrifice was being offered. 

    But how, in that moment, did Abraham have such faith, such trust, such knowledge, such understanding to know he was doing the right thing and sacrificing his son to the right God? Didn’t his father believe the same thing once upon a time? 

    This is one of those blog posts where I don’t have answers to my own questions. This is something I will have to ponder upon, research, and think more about.   

    If anyone has comments or can enlighten me, please do. 

  • RSVP

    RSVP

    I recently attended a wedding that had 100 people RSVP. Of those 100 RSVPs, 90 people showed up.

    A few years ago Beth put a ton of effort into planning a semi-surprise birthday party for me. It was semi-surprise because I knew we were gathering, I just thought it was with her family at their home. What I didn’t know is that she had invited 30 or so other people to celebrate.

    Beth gathered RSVPs a few weeks ahead of time. She planned activities. She got cake and catered food to feed the 30 RSVPs plus family. She put a ton of effort into preparing the event.

    The days leading up to the party, unbeknownst to me, Beth started getting an influx of texts from those 30 RSVPs. “I’m sick.” “My kids are sick.” “My dog is sick.” “I forgot it was Saturday.” Etc. Etc.  

    I’m sure Beth felt like she was living the parable of the wedding banquet in Matthew chapter 22. If my closest friends weren’t interested in coming to the party they RSVP’d for, maybe people off the street would have interest in celebrating. At least they’d be there to eat the food and say surprise.

    Those 30 RSVPs turned into 8 real people. You can imagine Beth’s disappointment when she put so much effort into this surprise and then just over 25% of the people who said they would come actually came. We were eating good that day. We had food for 30+ people and only 8 to eat it. 

    It stung, quite a bit.

    Since then Beth has planned birthday parties for our daughters. She hesitates to do RSVPs anymore. What’s the point of doing an RSVP if 10% who say they’re going to come don’t ultimately show up? How about if 75% don’t show up? Can’t really plan for that margin of error. What’s the point of an RSVP at that point?

    Beth and I had a conversation recently about our family values. What’s important to us that other people know about us? What do we want our girls to know about our family as they grow older?

    We discussed a lot of family values but one of the most important was doing the things we say we’ll do. Keeping our commitments is important to our family. Beth and I pride ourselves on the fact that if we say we’re going to do something, we do it.

    Are we perfect? No. Do things happen? Of course. But we try.

    There’s a distinction I like to make. Excuses versus reasons. So many people provide excuses for why they can’t make it to something they’ve committed to. I don’t think there should ever be “excuses.” There are excuses and there are reasons. If I can’t be somewhere, it better be for a reason and not for an excuse.

    Here’s the thing, excuse givers think their excuses are reasons. Oftentimes they’re not. Oftentimes, the person could make their committment. They’ve just found an excuse not to. The next time you try to back out of something you said you were going to do, ask yourself: Is this an excuse or a reason? If it is a true reason, you CAN NOT make it to your committment, be honest with yourself, let the person you previously communicated committment to know with sincere apology, and move on. If it’s an excuse, look in the mirror.

    Now this isn’t to be high and mighty. This isn’t to toot our horn. This isn’t to imply that we’re better than anyone else. Far from it. This is something we pride ourselves on. Yes. This is a commitment we’ve made to keep our commitments. That’s just who we want to be. 

    I don’t ever want to make people feel bad. That’s the last thing in the world I EVER want to do. But after this wedding where 10% of the people who said they were going to come didn’t come, I decided I wanted to write on this topic. 

    If you’re reading this and feeling a pang of guilt about something you recently committed to and then didn’t show up, good. You should feel a pang of guilt.

    I don’t know if it’s always been this way. I don’t know if RSVPs in the 90s were considered optional. To Beth and I, and I know in the family I was raised in, if you said you were going to be somewhere you just showed up. Nobody wanted to clean the church, I never wanted to go to scout activities, I sometimes hated church, but you showed up. I think society could do a little better keeping their commitments.

    I think something has shifted. I think obligations are optional and commitments are made to be set aside when ultimately it’s inconvenient and you don’t want to go. In a world where you can just relax and watch that addictive episode on Netflix instead of get ready, pack into the car, drive a distance, and have to be around people you may not be in the mood to talk to, Netflix starts to look nice. And a lot of people choose Netflix.

    Here’s the thing. Then don’t RSVP. Here is my public service announcement. If you’re a person that can’t keep commitments, don’t RSVP.

    Again, Beth and I aren’t perfect. There have been times we have fallen short. All we can do is try to be better the next time.

    There are too many excuses nowadays.

    Everyone’s child, dog, or self is always sick.

    Now that we have three kids, we get it. It’s hard to get those three little (sometimes) monsters ready and loaded into a vehicle and transported to some thing we really don’t want to go to. There have been many times that Beth has gotten really sick and I’ve had to take three girls by myself to something. Is it hard? Yes. Does it suck sometimes? Yes. But it doesn’t matter. A commitment is a commitment. 

    A good example comes to mind. Our family had committed to meeting the Matthews family at the zoo one Saturday morning. As the time to leave approached Beth started to get a terrible headache and feel nauseous. The girls were grumpy and screaming. Beth went upstairs to get some reprieve. I couldn’t find the car keys. I almost gave up. But the Matthews are one of those rare people that have been there for us with 100% consistency. They showed up to that birthday party. When they say they’ll be somewhere I have no doubt they will show up.

    So Ivy and I searched and prayed and searched for those keys for almost two hours. We found them. We threw together a diaper bag of snacks and headed off to the zoo almost 3 hours later than we planned on. But we showed up.

    For the record, I haven’t always been a person who kept his commitments. I don’t think I’ve always been a person who could be relied upon. I think I used to be flaky. When I was younger, I might commit to something and not show up. I might say I’d be somewhere without being sure I’d actually go. At some point I decided to change. At some point I decided I wanted to be someone who showed up. This was a concious decision and it took concerted effort. Anyone can do it. It’s not in someone’s DNA to bail on plans just as it’s not in someone’s DNA to keep committments. It’s a decision everyday. That’s all.

    For me personally, I think this has come with maturity. My high school basketball coach used to make us clean our hotel rooms before leaving. This made no sense to me. Isn’t that the point of housekeeping? He pointed out that if we left our rooms a disaster someone else had to pick it up. “Isn’t that their job?” We would ask. He would say we didn’t have to make anyone’s job harder that it needed to be. Picking up after ourselves was the right thing to do. I think doing what you say you’re going to do is the right thing to do. Only as I’ve gotten older have I appreciated these two considerations.

    There are always reasons not to keep commitments. 

    Again, if you’re reading this and feeling offended, maybe you’re even one of those people that didn’t show up to that birthday party years ago (unlikely you remember, but whatever), if you’re reading this and feeling upset by what you’re reading…..good. That’s very unlike me to say. It’s kind of hard for me to say. But good. If me writing this makes one person keep one commitment they make, it will have been worth it.

    We need people to keep commitments in this world. 

    Things will always come up. There’s always a good reason not to show up. But do you show up anyway?

    I mentioned the Matthews and there are other people I trust that when they say they’ll do something, they’ll do it. 

    To be honest, those people are few and far between. 

    There are people that are there for me and amazing people and I love them so much. But I just don’t trust if they say they’ll show up that they’ll actually be there.

    I know we’re all busy. If I’ve ever not kept a serious commitment it’s likely more due to disorganization than inconsideration. But ultimately, I’m responsible for my schedule. And if I’m that busy, then I shouldn’t RSVP. Not being organized can’t be an excuse for being inconsiderate, and not showing up.

    Life will always be busy and it only gets busier.

    I know things come up. I get it. I still love you.

    But if you’re a person that doesn’t show up, I encourage you to think about what values are important to you and what you want people to think when they think about you.

    Do you show up?

  • Holier Than Thou

    Holier Than Thou

    *I wrote the below in 2022. I don’t remember what made me write the below. I don’t know what I was so frustrated about. That frustration comes out in what I wrote. I hopen no one ever thinks I think I’m better than anyone because I go to church. That might be one of the hardest things about coming back to church. Everyone thinks you’re different. And you are, I guess. I guess that’s part of change.

    How do you make life changes without making others feel like you now think you’re better than them?

    How do you give advice to others if they think you’re just criticizing them?

    How do you be religious without making others feel judged? 

    How do you share church, and religion, and life changes without sounding like you think you’re right because you’ve found the right way, when you do think you’re right because you do think you’ve found a better way?

    Have I come across this way?

    I guess the answer is mostly – you can’t control what people think. You can only control yourself.

    If someone feels judged because you’ve changed, and you’re happy about your changes, and you want to share it, how do you stop that? I don’t think you can. 

    The former alcoholic that is proud to share their 1-year chip and how healthy they are compared to 366 days ago – to the current alcoholic that person can seem self-righteous. 

    The person who now goes to church every week and invites friends comes across as holier than thou aka obnoxious because they’ve found God again. But everyone remembers the monster they used to be, and maybe, because of that past remembrance, can’t take them seriously. 

    I’ve found that giving advice to others can often be a lose-lose. 

    Either  

    1. They say, “You never did xyz so you don’t understand.”

    Or 

    1. They say, “Well you did it, who are you to talk?” 

    I recently gave such advice and fell into category 2. Advice lovingly given. How do you express that it’s lovingly given? 

    I always think if you do something with love in your heart, your intentions will be understood. That’s not real life. The purest intentions from others to give me advice when I didn’t want to hear it was never received well by me.

    I guess that’s the nature and problem of life.

    How do you live religiously in a non-religious world?

    Is this a self-righteous post? I don’t know.

    It might be the closest to a rant that I’ve ever given in writing.

    Oh I how I look forward to having kids who think I’ve never lived life and that I know nothing about what they’re going through. I’m sorry, parents, for always thinking that. Now I get it. And I know I’ll get it more when I have teenagers. 

  • Guilt

    Guilt

    Every once in a while, I feel guilt for things I did, the person I used to be, the people I hurt, the pain I caused, the horrible things I was a part of. I know it seems…like I haven’t really changed if I only feel that guilt every once in a while. Guilt is an interesting thing. 

    Every once in a while, I look back on who I was. I’ll feel some guilt for the worst things I was a part of. I think I’ll always feel that, in this life, to some extent. It’s like a prick in my side, as the scriptures would say. It stays with me because I need to be reminded of where bad choices lead.

    The most interesting thing about the guilt of my past is it’s not really there, anymore. By this I mean, when I think about it, I more think about the people I hurt, and I feel sorry. But those feelings have become distant, like an old me.

    I know there will be, or I hope there will be, some people who read this that I did hurt. I know they’re going to read this and scoff. “Oh good for you, you’ve been forgiven. What about me? The person you hurt.” That’s the guilt that still hits me sometimes.

    I have tried to reach out to some people from my past, especially early on. There were things I had to say and people I had to speak to before the weight of my guilt could be lifted off me. It’s intrersting…for years I didn’t let go of some of the weight I was carrying. And it was a weight. It was slowly killing me.

    I haven’t been forgiven because of myself. I haven’t chosen to forgive myself.

    I know a lot of my friends who have only known me in the last few years read this. They might sometimes wonder what makes me so passionate about church, God, the gospel, etc.

    I know a lot of my friends and people who knew me back when I was in full “of the world” mode and they now wonder, “What the heck changed? When did he become a God nut?”

    I know there are people from high school who will think similar things.

    I hope this explains a little bit about why I’ve become so passionate to share about Jesus Christ, to talk about Jesus Christ, to write about Jesus Christ. I hope for everyone who knew me in high school, everyone who knew me through college, everyone who knew me through church, I hope this can explain why I can’t stop talking about Jesus Christ.

    At least once a week I cry in gratitude. Because when I think about my past, it’s not really there anymore. Like I said, some guilt will always be there. But the overwhelming sadness at who I used to be is gone. I shed tears once a week asking God why. Why did He save me? What am I worth to Him?

    I can’t be ashamed of Jesus Christ anymore. I was ashamed and embarrassed to be a believer and outward worshiper of Him for too long.

    Today, I feel with an all too real sensation that He died for me. He suffered, and bled, and was scourged, and was insulted, and humbly took it, for me. Without Him that guilt would still be killing me. I’ve been washed clean by His blood. And that’s why I’ve changed. For all those who used to know me, that’s why I am the way I am now. Because the feeling of what Christ did for me is too real of a feeling.

    This forgiveness didn’t come over night. I didn’t one day feel great. It was months and months of being on my knees, crying, begging. It was reaching out to certain people. It was being humble enough to admit I made so many mistakes. And over time, I don’t know exactly when it happened, but one day my guilt was a thing of the past. Sometimes I feel guilt because my guilt is a thing of the past.

    Guilt is an interesting thing.

    I still make many, many mistakes.

    If there is anyone reading this that is still scoffing, thinking, “Well you were a jerk to me, screw you.” Please forgive me. You can comment here anonymously and really lay into me. I know there are still things I might need to make up for. Christ forgave me but others might still have to. Please reach out to me if I ever hurt you so I can try my best to ask for your forgiveness.

    For anyone reading this who thinks their choices are who they are. Your choices make you only if you continue to make them. As soon as you decide to change someone will be there to change you. Guilt doesn’t have to be with you forever. It can be washed away. Trust me, it’s a miraculous feeling. 

    I sometimes wonder how I could change so drastically. Being a person who said things like “washed clean in the blood of Christ” or “Christ saved me.” I never thought I would say things like that. They sound so corny. Then, in quiet moments by myself I’m overwhelmed by God’s love and that He gave His Son to die…for me. Then I decide I’ll be as corny as I have to be. I can’t be embarrassed anymore. I just can’t. Because I know Christ was never embarrassed to claim me. Through all my mistakes and through all the moments He should have turned His back on me, He never would, He never did. He always loved me. 

    I haven’t been forgiven because of myself. I’ve been forgiven because of Him. It’s the greatest gift I’ve ever been given and it’s free to us all. 

    It’s why I still cry EVERY time I hear this song: 

    And I Stand All Amazed:

    Video “Remembering in Whom We Have Trusted” by Elder Allen D. Haynie 

    *I wrote this sometime around 2019. As I edited it to post in 2026, I felt some sadness at things that are less true than they were 7 years ago. For example, I no longer cry at least once a week. I think about this sometimes. I really used to cry once a week, during the sacrament, when I thought about what Christ did for me. It’s less often now.

    While I want to retain that passion and that burning feeling of gratitude within me for what Christ has done for me, it’s also kind of beautiful that I’m less emotional. Part of the reason I’m less emotional is because I feel less guilt about past deeds. I think over time the Atonement of Jesus Christ has more and more healed my soul and my guilt.

    I still owe Him a tremendous debt of gratitude. I still owe Him everything. I hope to hold to those emotions while also being able to let go of past guilt as best I can. It’s a balance. A balance afforded me by the Great Healer.