When Is It Too Late for New Dreams?

Ever come to a fabulous party too late? For all of you who are gifted with the ability to lord over time, let me paint you a picture. As soon as you arrive, you have to pull off an expert parallel parking job about a mile away because all the good spots are taken. And the space is never big enough, so your car is like an opera singer stuffing itself into a ballerina costume. Then once you run through the rain wondering why you labored for an hour to straighten your curly hair because now it’s a frizzy nest (which is why you were late in the first place), you have to endure all the obvious “You’re Late!” greetings. And the awkward looks that scream “She could’ve at least done something with that white girl fro of hers.”

After a few calming breaths that you learned at hot yoga, you waltz over to the food table only to find all the amazing cheesy hors d’oeuvres you never allow yourself to eat are gone. Only the toasty crust on the edge of the pyrex remains, mocking your lateness. You see a crockpot and peer over the edge to see what treasures it holds, but nothing is floating on top of the BBQ soup. Not even one party wiener.

Oh yay! A veggie tray is still very much alive with a mound of broccoli florets…but of course all the ranch is gone already. Eew. So you take a floret and wield it as a scraper to score some of the aforementioned crusty remains, but it all just falls apart in your hand. You lie to yourself and say the stupid mantra “Nothing tastes as good as thin feels,” but it’s the holidays, and you know that’s a colossal load of crap.

Inside your mind, you shake your fist at Lateness and vow a revengeful comeback of discipline. Starting first thing tomorrow.

This is kind of how I felt when people recently kept urging me to start blogging. Start blogging?! Now? Hasn’t the Blog ship already sailed and docked across the globe? It’s way too late to start blogging at this point, right? All the successful bloggers have already devoured the cheesy dishes and party wieners and are comfortably reclining by the fire with the top button of their pants undone. To come to the blog party now is just a frizzy-haired embarrassment.

But then I thought of other late-comers who laughed at Time and bravely reached for their dreams anyway. Laura Ingalls Wilder didn’t publish her first books until she was 65, and what a terrible tragedy that would’ve been! Anna Mary Robertson Moses, a.k.a. Grandma Moses, was 78 when she began painting. Julia Child didn’t write her first cookbook until she was 50. And speaking of food, Colonel Sanders was 62 when he franchised KFC, and that ramen noodle mogul, Momofuku Ando (I promise that’s his real name…careful saying that out loud), didn’t invent Cup of Noodles until he was 61. Imagine all the college students who would be starving today were it not for Ando.

Late Schmate. Time Schmime. I’ll tell you what time it is: It’s time to throw caution to the wind and dream new dreams. Who’s with me?! (Cue: Inspirational Soundtrack) Who cares that people might judge our tardiness? Or gloat in the fact they got to eat all those cheesy hors d’oeuvres? We need to swallow our pride, chuck those skanky broccoli florets across the room, grab that empty pyrex and lick it clean!

When Is It Too Late For New Dreams? Let me assure you, it’s way after the buzzer sounds or the fat lady sings. It’s not until you breathe your last breath and walk into eternity. So I encourage you, no matter what season of life you are in…Dream on. Dream now. And Dream BIG.

The B.C. Brangelina (Pt 2)

By the time we meet up with Zachariah and Elizabeth in Luke 1, it seems all the luster of their Zachabeth status had dulled into shadows. Now into their 60s, they were the exact opposite of a power couple, and probably couldn’t even get cast on a 3rd-rate Celebrity reality show. And to seal the deal of their downward social spiral, the two made a poignant choice to live in Judea, an insignificant town miles outside of Jerusalem. The norm for the priesthood of those days was to lavishly live it up their elite Jerusalem homes as they often applauded themselves publicly with their own red carpet Oscar-style celebrations. 

Did they find solace in Judea because they grew weary of the constant rumor mill surrounding their most unfortunate childless situation? Maybe. Or maybe the pressure on Zach to divorce Beth was increasing with every year now that she was well into the final countdown of her game, and completely outside the bounds of motherhood to be able to catch a Hail Mary. (See what I did there?)

I’d like to believe that Zachabeth moved into Judea to get away from the worldly influence of their sphere and the church politics of their day. I want to think that this couple cared way more about what God thought about them than what their peers did. Who cares who thought they were unrighteous as long as God loved and accepted them? These two would rather live a quiet life, outside the buzz of the society’s lies and chaos, so they would be able to hear God’s still small voice whispering they were still accepted and the best was yet to come.

And here’s the most inspiring treasure from their story. Are you ready for it? Because I’ve been meditating on this for weeks now, and have been so excited to share what God showed me to anyone who would take the time to read this. I so wish I was sitting with you right now to see your face when your heart receives these next words, and I’m using extreme restraint not to use the all caps button because you’ll think I’m yelling at you and that’s just annoying. OK, here’s the prelude:

For years…decades even…Zachariah and Elizabeth had to think God was not listening. Or worse, He was listening and choosing to not bless them. Come on! ALL they wanted was a child. It’s all they prayed for when they went to the Temple. Every. Single. Time. How redundant to have to say those same words to God week after week, year after year. Until finally, Elizabeth was beyond childbearing and all was hopeless. WHHHYYY? Why would God do this?? (Sorry, some of those all caps are seeping through.)

And this is the BIG IDEA: If God would’ve answered their prayers when they wanted Him to, Zachariah and Elizabeth’s son could not have been the forerunner to Jesus. He would’ve come 20-40 years too soon! Sure they would’ve had their son, and I’m sure that he would’ve been an awesome priest, but he would not have been the guy who fulfilled the prophesies from Isaiah 40 and Malachi 3 (scriptures both Zach and Beth would’ve studied and held dear), and he would not have been the superstar who prepared the hearts of the people to receive the Savior of the World, and he would not have been the totally rad dude who only wore organic fur and ate bee’s produce. And Elizabeth might not have been where Mary came to seek refuge to make sense of those first few months of her angel-induced freak pregnancy. We probably wouldn’t even be talking about Zachabeth today, were it not for God holding out on them and making them wait over 40 years for their blessing. 

Are you getting this? Please allow God to let this sink in. Just because your life doesn’t look like you thought it would today, does not mean God is holding out on you. Just because you haven’t received the answer to your most precious prayer, by your timeline, isn’t because God isn’t listening, or because you’ve done something to not deserve his favor. Sometimes, we don’t see what we want from God simply because it’s not the right time. The moment of earthly maximum impact has not occurred, and so we must simply TRUST that God loves us and knows what is best. And that He is right by our side, helping us to master patience and perfect our faith. Selah.

Thank GOD, Zachabeth did not lose faith. May we follow in their steps and hold on to His promises…all the way until we catch that Hail Mary for our own touchdown.

The B.C. Brangelina (Pt 1)

Zachariah and Elizabeth were the power couple of their day. The B.C. Brad and Angelina. I wonder if people used to call them Zachabeth? I know we usually skip past these guys when we read the Christmas story and go straight for the main action with Mary and Joseph. But I cannot not stop to meditate on these two fascinating people recorded in Luke, Chapter 1. I believe they embody some crucial truths for us as we approach this holiday season.

Backstory: Their wedding would’ve been the most-talked about event of the year because Zachariah was born from a priestly line and he was betrothed to Elizabeth, who was from the infamous line of Aaron…the first ever God-appointed priest. The best marrying the best of the best. What would this couple achieve together? And what sort of superhuman children would they create? Surely God had something earth-shattering in store for them. The expectation would’ve been enormous, and the number of paparazzi even more.

However, as the wedding anniversaries added up, so did the speculation and scandal. This priestly powerhouse could not produce an heir. After years of countless pregnancy tests failing to manifest that 2nd pink line, it was obvious something was wrong. And by wrong, I mean, sinfully wrong. In the Jewish mindset of that time, the only explanation for God not blessing a union like Zachabeth with a baby was a shameful skeleton in a closet somewhere. The whispers swirling around Elizabeth would’ve been deafening. And Zachariah would’ve been fervently pressured by his mentors to divorce Elizabeth. It was acceptable by their law to do so. Even irresponsible not to. His priestly lineage depended upon it.

Disappointment is a sneaky cancer. At first we think we can brush it off, but it seeps into the cracks of our hearts and settles there. As time goes by, it invades our dreams and turns them into lead, forcing all our hopes to sink into pools of never-gonna-happen. Our souls grow heavy and our vision turns dim to the extent that even when an angel of the Lord visits us, our first response is to argue and spew doubt.

We begin to think we are the Rejected, and so, we act like it. We reject our calling, we shirk from love, and maybe the worst, we dull our ears to hearing God’s voice reminding us who we really are. The Called. The Blessed. The Chosen.

In what area of your life have you believed the lie that you have been rejected? In these last few days of 2015, follow me as we look at the lives of Zachabeth. I believe God has something to say to you that will shine a light into your heart. Allow that light to ricochet into the deepest places of darkness, all the way into that hidden cellar in your soul where you’ve discarded the “never gonna happen” dreams. Dare to release the lie of rejection and prepare yourself to embrace being The Chosen.