Search Results for "misfit magnet"

Back in the ’80’s when I was a kid, Payless ShoeSource was known as Volume.

Volume sold Pro Wings—shoes that were cheap knock-offs of the cool brands.

I remember wanting a pair of black high-top Converse shoes, but they weren’t in the budget. So what did I get instead? A pair of Pro Wings black high-tops that looked pretty much just like the Converse shoes… but they had a different label.

That label drove me crazy. I was constantly thinking about positioning my feet in a way that hid or covered the Pro Wing label. Eventually, I took a black Sharpie and covered the label entirely.

I also remember somehow getting a pair of Norsport tennis shoes (Norsport was Nordstrom’s own brand of shoes). You guessed it—there was never an attempt to hide the Norsport label. Actually, it was quite the opposite. I wore them proudly—and I wanted everyone to see that label.

I’m sharing my ‘80‘s shoe history to point out a simple truth:

Labels can give us a sense of value or lack of value, worth or lack of worth, significance or insignificance.

I grew up wanting to prove myself—prove my value, worth, and significance.

I wanted to have the right labels…

And not just the right brand labels, but the right labels that people put on you—like: popular, funny, athletic, creative, intelligent, good-looking, wealthy, in-style, etc.

The right labels make you feel worth something.

The wrong labels make you feel low and insignificant.

The Bible says when we become Christians, our old life is gone and a new life has begun. The old life, with all its labels, no longer defines us. We are now defined by what God has done, rather than what we have done.

Check it out:

“Now you’re dressed in a new wardrobe. Every item of your new way of life is custom-made by the Creator, with his LABEL on it. All the old fashions are now obsolete. Words like Jewish and non-Jewish, religious and irreligious, insider and outsider, uncivilized and uncouth, slave and free, MEAN NOTHING. From now on everyone is DEFINED BY CHRIST, everyone is included in Christ.” (Colossians 3.10, 11 MSG)

Here’s another passage that re-defines us:

“You were all baptized into Christ, and so you were all clothed with Christ. This means that you are all children of God through faith in Christ Jesus. In Christ, there is NO DIFFERENCE between Jew and Greek, slave and free person, male and female. You are all the same in Christ Jesus. You belong to Christ, so you are Abraham’s descendants. You will inherit all of God’s blessings because of the promise God made to Abraham.” (Galatians 2.27-29 NCV)

What are these Scriptures telling us?

The OLD LABELS MEAN NOTHING.

There is NO DIVISION, NO DIFFERENCE, NO DISTINCTION, with those who are in Christ.

There are no special classes of people. No hierarchy. No low people and no high people.

In Him, we’re all the same. In Him, we are valuable, significant, and worthy.

This is why, in the Christian faith, we must never attempt to categorize or class people. We must never attempt to keep people low. Religions that keep people low are really about the privileged few increasing their significance by lowering the significance of others. That is ABSOLUTELY ROTTEN and disgusting, and it has nothing to do with the Gospel.

Our “deal” is not about posturing for position or class or distinction. Rather, it is all about receiving worth and a new identity in Christ…

And we don’t have to keep others low in order for us to be somebody anymore.

In Christ, our identity is set, secure, and forever significant.

So now, we see right through all the labels, and we lift others who have been kept low.

The other day we were telling someone about our Thanksgiving Grocery Giveaway.

The lady responded, “Wow, that’s cool! You be careful though. You really gotta check people out and make sure they need it before you give them something. People will try to take advantage of you—so don’t give them anything!”

Both Shari and I thought the same thing: No way! We’re givers, not investigators. Of course someone will take advantage of us. No biggie! Others who have genuine needs will also come and be blessed.

We are often “careful” with our kindness toward others—while at the same time being “reckless” in giving grace to ourselves.

We need to flip that around.

We should be reckless in giving grace towards others, and we should be careful with ourselves.

Jesus told a parable about a farmer sowing seed, and that seed landing on 4 different types of soil…

The footpath, the rocky ground, among weeds, and fertile soil.

An easy application of this parable is personal: be good ground—be fertile soil.

In other words, you be careful to receive and respond to what has been graciously given to you.

Another takeaway from this parable is that we should sow INDISCRIMINATELY, even RECKLESSLY.

That’s what the farmer did. His seed was thrown on ALL types of ground.

He didn’t pre-judge. Nope. He sowed his seed—hoping that something good would come of it.

Our job isn’t to be investigators or judges, deciding who has potential and who doesn’t.

Our job is to love, serve, give, bless… to be reckless in giving grace to others.

Our job is to sow good seed indiscriminately, hoping that something good will come of it.

As far as our own lives are concerned: Be careful. Be good ground.

When it comes to others: Be reckless. Give huge amounts of grace. Hope for the best, and don’t worry about it.

One of the things that I don’t love about Christian culture is our propensity to live in fantasy land.

We isolate ourselves.

We try to create our own little world within the world—complete with Christian schools, movies, music, art, jewelry, clothing, video games…

Everything with our “Christian Approved” label on it could exist in a Thomas Kinkade painting.

It’s a Christian fantasy land—cute and heart-warming, but not real.

I know a lot of people see the Thomas Kinkade version of life as beautiful.

I don’t.

I see beauty outside of fantasy land.

I see beauty where the misfits are.

I see God working in the lives of real people outside of fantasy land.

I see second chances being given. I see hurts being healed. I see lives being restored.

And to me, that is a beautiful thing.

It kinda reminds me of the lyrics from Gungor’s song Beautiful Things:

“You make beautiful things out of the dust, you make beautiful things out of us.”

We all have a bubble…

I think of it as an invisible force field that keeps people out (or in).

Occasionally, someone either misreads the signs or is oblivious to them—and they break into your bubble.

Most of the time, however, you determine who is welcome in your bubble and who isn’t.

Question: Do you have misfits in your bubble?

Jesus was often criticized for the type of people he allowed in his bubble.

He was called “A friend of sinners.”

On one occasion, a Pharisee watched a “certain immoral woman from the city” anoint Jesus’ feet with expensive perfume. This Pharisee thought to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would know what kind of woman is touching him. She’s a sinner!” (Luke 7.37-39)

The funny thing is—Jesus DID know what kind of woman she was.

He knew everything about her and he welcomed her into his bubble.

The Pharisee considered this particular woman to be unreachable, untouchable, and unlovable.

As a result, his invisible force field kept her out. And he made the signs obvious.

Jesus, on the other hand, is a misfit magnet.

He attracts misfits everywhere. He welcomes misfits into his bubble.

I want to be like that. I want to be a misfit magnet, just like Jesus.

I want to love people whom others consider to be unreachable, untouchable, and unlovable.

I want misfits in my bubble.

Expectations are those internal “pictures” of how things, according to us anyway, are “supposed to be.”

They are often unwritten and unspoken—but they’re still there.

When these expectations are failed, we’re disappointed and disillusioned.

When our expectations are broken, our response is to say (or think), “That ain’t right!”

A book* I recently read states, “Jesus is surprising. His coming fulfilled ancient prophecies, but not expectations. He shattered expectations.”

This is so true.

Jesus simultaneously failed expectations and fulfilled prophecies.

Some of the same people who eagerly expected the coming of the Messiah didn’t like him when he came.

Why?

They pictured something different—the Messiah was “supposed to be” how they imagined him to be!

They expected a political leader, a revolutionary.

They expected pomp and circumstance.

They expected a “company man,” an insider.

They expected His teaching to affirm what they already “knew.”

And because Jesus didn’t meet their expectations, many said, “That ain’t right!” and rejected him. (John 6.60, 66)

In Luke chapter 7, some guys are sent to ask Jesus, “Are you the Messiah we’ve been expecting, or should we keep looking for someone else?” (verse 20)

I think the question is funny.

It’s as if they are saying, “Are you gonna meet our expectations? ‘Cause if not, we’ll keep looking…”

Jesus answers, not with a simple “yes” or “no,” but by saying, “The blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised to life, and the Good News is being preached to the poor.” (verse 22)

Jesus essentially says, “The prophecies about the Messiah are being fulfilled by me.”

It’s as if Jesus is telling them to choose: A) Your Expectations, or B) What God is Doing.

Here’s what I’m driving at: Our expectations (our pictures of the way things are “supposed to be”) often cloud our ability to see what God is doing now.

Could it be that the pictures we’ve painted in our minds are not always 100% accurate?

Could it be that our expectations of how things are “supposed to be” are distorted?

Could it be that our response, “That ain’t right!” isn’t right?

I think it could be.

I don’t want to miss what God is doing today because my expectations are edging him out.

When it comes down to a decision between A) My Expectations, and B) What God is Doing…

I hope I choose B.

* Book: Defiant Grace—The Surprising Message and Mission of Jesus by Dane Ortlund

There is power in the unexpected.

On the other hand, the expected is, well… it’s expected.

For instance: giving your wife flowers on your anniversary—expected.

In fact, if you don’t give her flowers, you’re probably in trouble.

But if you surprise her by giving her flowers when she’s least expecting them… Bam! Good work my friend.

See what I’m saying?

There’s something about the element of surprise and the unexpected.

When we spend our lives working hard to “fit in,” we simply live within the expected.

No surprise. No power.

It’s when we embrace our unique “mis-fit” that we stand out and begin to have real influence.

There’s a fascinating story of a Roman officer found in Luke chapter 7. It’s surprising, full of the unexpected… it’s the story of a misfit who captured the interest of Jesus.

Basically, this Roman officer had a highly valued employee who was sick and dying. The officer heard about Jesus and sent some respected Jewish elders to ask Jesus to come heal the man.

OK—that’s unusual. He was a Roman officer. Rome ruled the region. This man had the power to order any Jewish person around… including Jesus. But he didn’t.

And what’s even more surprising is that the Jewish elders actually came begging Jesus to heal the man, saying, “If anyone deserves your help he does—for he loves the Jewish people and even built a synagogue for us.” (Luke 7.4)

Talk about the unexpected, the element of surprise! Wow. This Roman officer loved the Jewish people and built a synagogue for them. Huh? That is unusual. Not normal. This man was a misfit.

Guess what? The power of the unexpected captured Jesus’ attention. He went with them to the man’s house.

On the way there comes yet another surprise…

The Roman officer sent some friends to say, “Lord, don’t trouble yourself by coming to my home, for I am not worthy of such an honor. I am not even worthy to come and meet you. Just say the word from where you are, and my servant will be healed. I know this because I am under the authority of my superior officers, and I have authority over my soldiers. I only need to say, ‘Go,’ and they go, or ‘Come,’ and they come.” (Luke 7.6-8)

Here’s the best part of the story:

“When Jesus heard this, he was amazed. Turning to the crowd that was following him, he said, ‘I tell you, I haven’t seen faith like this in all Israel!’ And when the officer’s friends returned to his house, they found the man completely healed.” (Luke 7.9-10)

JESUS WAS AMAZED. He was surprised. He had encountered the unexpected.

This Roman officer wasn’t normal. He didn’t fit the mold. He was surprisingly different.

There’s an important lesson here…

When we look, sound, think, and act like everyone else—there’s no surprise.

That’s expected, and there’s no power in that.

Instead, be a misfit.

We were made to stand out, not blend in or fit in.

Be surprising. Do the unexpected—‘cause you’re a misfit.

I read this story today—it comes from Craig Groeschel’s book Weird (Because Normal Isn’t Working)…

May it inspire you to never become like Virgil.
__________________

Early in my ministry as an associate pastor, I would often fill in for other preachers. One week, my friend Paul invited me to speak at his church while he was on vacation.

Sporting my best (and only) suit, with my shirt ironed and shoes polished to complete the first impression, I arrived plenty early and was immediately greeted at the side door by Lora, the church secretary.

“I’ve got great news!” she said, beaming. “We’re having a visitor at church today-so you better preach great!”

Now, I’m all for getting excited when visitors come to church, but it was evident from Lora’s over-the-top enthusiasm that they were rare commodities at this small, aging church on the south side of town. As the community had suffered decline, the church kept pace with it, and Paul had confided more that once he feared the doors might not stay open forever.

Curious I asked Lora how she knew that the guest would be joining us. She said that a woman had called the church that morning and asked for directions. The caller explained that she had fallen on hard times and wanted to give church a try. Lora prayed with the caller and said she’d be sure to look for her in service. Armed with a little extra motivation, I too prayed and asked God to use me to minister to this hurting lady who would be visiting the church for the first time.

Just before the service started, Lora stationed me by the church’s big wooden front doors alongside another pillar from the congregation, an older man named Virgil.

Within moments, I could tell Virgil loved his church and took his post at the big wooden doors seriously. In between greeting the few dozen members trickling into the building, he started ranting about the problems with today’s generation. “They’re rebellious!” Virgil barked, complaining that young people aren’t respectful of God and His church.

In the middle of Virgil’s rant, I saw her—the visitor—drive up in a beat-up older car so dirty that I couldn’t tell if it was light gray or faded blue. Its balding tires, low in air pressure, squeaked as she turned into a parking spot. Getting out, she revealed a very dented driver-side door. Saying that she stood out is an understatement.

While everyone else entering the church that morning wore suits (dated as they were) or dresses (most ankle length), our visitor closed her car door with a cigarette in her hand and displayed an ensemble of tight blue jeans and a slightly tighter sleeveless shirt, which-forgive me for noticing—definitely revealed much more that the apparel of the average female Sunday school teacher. She might have been attractive if life had been kinder to her. Without judging her, I found my mind pinballing with possibilities: Abusive boyfriend? Drug addiction? Unemployment? Depression? Abandonment? All of these and more?

As she walked toward the church, she took a deep breath and titled her head slightly, looking up at Virgil and me. I prayed again, asking God to give to give me the words to say that might encourage her with His hope.
My silent prayer was interrupted as Virgil hurled his welcome grenade at the young woman. “We wear our best clothes for God at this church. Is that the best outfit you own? Or do you just not care what God thinks?”

“Nooooo!” I desperately wanted to shout. Time collapsed into slow motion, as if I were suddenly caught up in an action-suspense movie and Virgil had just pressed the detonation button for the bomb beneath us all.

My mind scrambled for the best was to undo Virgil’s assault. I considered smiling and yelling out, “Don’t mind old Virgil here—he’s a little…” and making some cuckoo gesture. Then I thought about laughing really loud and saying, “I think we got her—she thinks you’re serious! Come on in Miss. Uncle Virgil’s just been watching too much Punk’d!”

The darkest part of me, though, wanted to assume the Jason Bourne role and launch myself at Virgil with a punch so hard that he’d meet God face-to-face. (I realize this would not exactly honor Christ or offer the visitor a better reason to stick around). Instead I just stood there, frozen in place by my own outrage and uncertainty.

As if on cue, the visitor simply turned, walked back to her clunker of a car, and drove away.

Virgil mumbled, “Rebellious.”

Something happened in my heart at that moment. Before God, I made several promises that I would vow to keep for the rest of my life. I committed to resist judging someone who doesn’t know God. I promised never to turn anyone away from church because of the way they look. I vowed never to become like Virgil.

Silently I turned my back to him and walked back into the secretary’s office, overcome with emotion. As strange as it sounds, I seemed to feel God’s pain. The hurt I experienced seemed bigger than my own. Lora asked me what happened, and fighting back my tears, I told her how Virgil turned away the hurting visitor. She teared up too and asked if she could pray for me.

I don’t remember all that she said, but I’ll never forget one thing. She asked God to use this experience to help my heart break forever for those who don’t know Christ.

Confession: I hate the statement, “It is what it is.”

Sure, there’s the WHAT IS…

In our world, the WHAT IS— is the broken, hurting, dysfunctional, stained, and scarred.

We can see it, talk about it, photograph it, calculate it, evaluate it, critique it, and complain about it.

It’s on the nightly news, it’s standing on the street corner, and it’s in our neighborhoods and schools.

But what about WHAT CAN BE?

This can’t be photographed, calculated, or evaluated.

Only a few are able to see it and talk about it.

Can there really be hope, healing, and restoration?

Can the WHAT IS actually be turned around?

I believe how we respond to the WHAT IS shapes the outcome of the WHAT CAN BE.

So, I’m wondering how do we respond to the WHAT IS?

Do we look away? Are we afraid of it? Do we isolate ourselves from it?

And how does God respond to the WHAT IS?

In Luke chapter 6, Jesus said: “God blesses the poor, the hungry, the tearful, and the mistreated.” (verses 20-23)

God responds to the WHAT IS with blessing.

He blesses the poor. He blesses the hurting. He blesses the marginalized. He blesses the lonely.

As far as I’m concerned, we’re either responding with blessing or we’re contributing to the ongoing condition of the WHAT IS.

Our actions—how we respond to the WHAT IS, shapes the outcome of the WHAT CAN BE.

We already know about the WHAT IS.

But think about the WHAT CAN BE if we…

Love. Welcome. Serve. Give. Accept. Smile. Care. Forgive. Invest. Share. Bless.

Have you ever been the team captain?

How did you make your picks? Big, fast, and strong? Experience? Ability?

And did you ever make a mercy selection?

You know—choosing the smallest guy early so he doesn’t end up getting picked last.

Did you ever have someone question your selection, “Why’d you pick THAT GUY?”

I want you to know something about Jesus: his picks are surprising.

He chooses unlikely characters.

Luke chapter 6 lists the names of Jesus’ team (the 12 disciples).

One of them: Levi, A.K.A. Matthew. He was a tax collector—a Jewish guy who worked for the Roman government.

Back then, the Jews really hated tax collectors—they counted them as crooks, white-collar criminals.

Tax collectors worked for the “enemy’ – the Roman government.

Yes, Jesus picked THAT GUY.

Another Jesus pick: Simon the Zealot.

Zealots were fanatical Jewish Nationalists. They were crazed with hatred for the Romans. Zealots bitterly opposed anyone who partnered with Rome (like Jewish tax collectors working for the Roman government). They carried knives, ready for an opportunity to shank the enemy…

Yikes, that’s quite a team!

Levi and Simon should be enemies, but Jesus brought them together.

Somehow, Jesus saw beyond the exterior—the labels, stereotypes, and political bumper stickers.

He saw more than what was. He saw potential. He recognized what could be.

Jesus still chooses unlikely characters—people like you and me.

THAT GUY, and THAT GIRL.

The misfits.

“Take a good look, friends, at who you were when you got called into this life. I don’t see many of ‘the brightest and the best’ among you, not many influential, not many from high-society families. Isn’t it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses, chose these nobodies…” (1 Corinthians 1.26-28 MSG)

Yup, He chooses some unlikely characters!