Afraid to Wear Shorts

Guy in Shorts

I am in the middle of a seventeen day vacation with my kids. Seventeen days straight of being able to be with my kids! Many of you may not comprehend the joy I feel in saying that because you may not have tasted the loneliness divorce brings to the non-custodial parent. In the last four years of divorce, the longest I recall being able to be with my kids in successive days was about seven. In case you haven’t caught on, seventeen is more than seven…that’s right, it’s seven plus a TEEN! Holy Puberty Batman! That’s stinking awesome! Seriously, I am more than happy to deal with my sixteen year old, love struck, son who spends twenty-two hours a day texting his girlfriend and the other two hours talking about how he misses her. (on a side note; We had lunch and went to a movie with said girlfriend and her mother yesterday who couldn’t stop talking about what a gentleman my son is! Well, he gets it honest!)

Anyhoo, as I type this I am about to get that wonderful young man as well as my beautiful ten year old daughter up for phase two of our vacation. Did I mention that it’s a SEVENTEEN day vaca?!!!!! As I’m thinking about the wonderful time we had in the mountains of Tennessee last week, I am reminded of the first day and a post I wanted to write earlier but was too busy riding roller coasters and breathing mountain air! Yay me!

I woke up that morning and was about to begin packing the car. As I grabbed my duffle bag filled with my clothes (wait, does anyone say duffle bag anymore? Did I just lose cool points for that? **face-palm**) I picked the bag up and suddenly fear came over me. Sweat began to break out and my hands began to shake. Have you ever seen the cinematic trick where the background suddenly stretches further back and the focal point of the shot gets closer? Oh yeah, that totally happened. It was both awesome and absolutely terrifying all at once! My knees got weak and my heart began pounding. Okay, that really didn’t happen BUT it would have had I filmed that scene because I was freaking out.

Why was I freaking out? I remembered that I did not pack a single pair of long pants, only shorts! (cue the screeching string section) Continue reading

Do I Really Have to Brush My Teeth?

Brush Your Teeth

Have you ever woke up and just not wanted to brush your teeth? Oh, come on, I can’t be the only one who feels that way! Really? I am? Well, that’s awkward. Momma always said I was stranger than a three legged cat wearing a turtle shell and smoking a cigar.

So, anyway, as I am getting…umm…slightly more mature these days, I am finding that my body is rebelling. I’m serious you guys, I hurt in places I didn’t know I had…or could it be I forgot I had? Hmm, so I wake up in the morning and my knees are hurting, my back is usually feeling like I have been imitating a contortionist all night long, and even my eyes hurt. I put my work clothes on, go down stairs scratching my beard, and…err…other parts unknown. As I walk in the bathroom I see my toothbrush and I think to myself, “I work with a bunch of guys who chew dip, does it really matter if I brush my teeth? I could just gargle some Listerine and I would still be ahead of the game”. Yes, that really happens to me.

Think about it, life would be so much easier if we just didn’t have to brush our teeth. I mean the strength it takes to pick up the brush, squeeze the tube, raise it up to our mouth, and push the “on” button, not to mention keeping that buzzing projectile of doom under control…sheesh, that thing is dangerous! Think of what could be done with all that energy; fossil fuels would no longer be needed, the nations would find peace, men would enjoy talking to their wives more than watching football, kids would go outside and play and never touch an electronic device again (except to read my blog. Way to go kids!), and we would have more time to weave baskets…because that’s what the world needs, more straw baskets!

So, do I really have to brush my teeth?

Continue reading

If I Were Not a Christian

Oh the things I could do if I were not a Christian. They are many and quite interesting and oh how I would embrace them, if only I were not bound to this heavy weight of Christianity. If only I were not compelled to walk this narrow way, if I were a camel unable to fit through this tiny eye of the needle, had never heard of the cross, the resurrection, the new life, and heaven and hell. Woe is me for I am a man of a heavy burden! For…

beer-guy-3-319410-m Continue reading

When You’ve Got Nothing Good to Say, Say Something!

I am sitting here in my recliner where I just finished reading a few chapters in the book of Isaiah which is one of my favorite books, just sayin’. I have a big, soft, fluffy blanket laying over my legs which my girlfriend gave me for Christmas. I have a blanket on my legs in the middle of summer because I like to keep my air on the Turbo Antarctic setting that way I can cozy up in my recliner and read with said blanket over my legs without sweating like an eighty pound super lightweight boxer in the locker room before his fight with Evander Holyfield. I am literally trying to keep my eyes open because it is only eight pm and if I fall asleep now, I will be wide awake in three to four hours and won’t be able to fall back asleep until around three am (I know this from much experience).

typingAs I sit here, with my laptop doing what laptops do, I type something, look at it, backspace to blank screen, type something else, look at it, backspace, rinse and repeat, over and over as my eyes slowly fade to black. It is a very aggravating state and all I keep thinking about is the old saying, “If you don’t have anything good to say, then say nothing at all”

I can’t tell you how many times I have heard this saying. If I had a penny for every time…well, I’d have a lot of good things to say! This blog would have an article for every day and, heck if I hit writer’s block I could simply hire a ghost writer and you all would be none the wiser! But what happens when you want to type the Good News but the words just don’t come?

Let’s face it, there are times when we cannot seem to find the words to say or maybe we have the words floating around in our head but can’t seem to pull them out and put them together in a way that makes a logical progression of thought provoking commentary. Maybe we are tired, frustrated from the day, worried about a future event, insecure about our ability to speak the Good News, or a multitude of other reasons for writer’s block. Maybe, we are just lazy. No matter the maybe, there are hundreds of things that hinder us from proclaiming the Good News, that is if we allow them to hinder us.

The truth is, the Good News is so simple even the most non-eloquent of men can proclaim it. God promises, “My word shall not return to me void but shall accomplish what I please” (Isaiah 55:1…I told you I like Isaiah.) So maybe on these days when writer’s block kicks in, and I seem to have nothing of worth to say, I should ignore that saying and just say something.

The truth is, God loved world so much He sent His son. His son spent His life and ministry healing the sick, raising the dead, and being a friend to the outcast. He then suffered inhumane torture at the hands of the Romans because the religious hypocrites couldn’t stand what He represents…grace. He carried His cross up a hill, willing laid down upon it, felt the excruciating pain as nails were driving into his hands and feet, asked God to forgive those who brought this pain upon Him, died, rose again, and calls us to receive His free gift of salvation asking nothing more than faith and following.

Could it be that writer’s block is simply God’s way of forcing me to depend less upon my (hopefully) eloquent speech and cunning ability to captivate an audience and instead depend upon the foolish simplicity of the Gospel message?

Maybe, when it comes to proclaiming the Good News, my motto should be, “If you don’t have anything good say, say something!” because even a rehashed, slightly uninspired, retelling of the greatest story ever told is going to bring beauty into the lives of the hurting!

Well, would you look at that, it is now 9:23 pm so…

Peace, Love, and Awakening!

The Saint, The Sinner, and the Sanctimonious

Luke 7:38  “…and she began to wash His feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hair of her head…”
She was in town that day and expected it to be just another normal day filled with looks of disdain and judgmental whispers.  “There’s she is!” They would sneer. “She’s so immoral. I don’t believe she has the audacity to even show her face? She’s such an embarrassment to our town”.  She expected this because that was her day to day experience. She was used to being avoided and honestly was glad she was because her guilt kept her so wrapped up that she truly believed she didn’t deserve to be “accepted”.  She thought “after all I’ve done why anyone want to be around me”. 
As she walked around town she noticed something was different this day.  The usual looks she was accustomed to receiving were not being cast in her direction.  She overheard whispers but this time they weren’t about her.  “Jesus is at Simon’s house” they said,  “I heard he healed the lame and raised the dead”.  She stood at a distance, scared to draw attention to herself but she was close enough to hear things like, “He’s a prophet…a teacher…messiah”. 
She had heard about Jesus before and was surprised that he taught his followers not to judge others for their sins but to love them and even to forgive them.  There was something different about this man and she felt something inside her crying out to know more.  She had to meet him but how?  Simon was a Pharisee and she a sinner.  Jesus was having dinner with the people who had spoken so harshly about her for so long.  She knew she wouldn’t be welcome there.  She knew she was “good enough” but something told her that HE was.  She felt in her heart that if she could just get in the door he could offer her some hope. 
She thought to herself “Maybe if I gave him something He would speak to me.  I don’t know why but I just feel like His word’s will bring peace to my heart.  I’ve got to meet this man”  She ran home and grabbed the alabaster box filled with precious ointment she keeps under her bed.  This was the only thing of value she had.  As she ran back into town she remembered the day she was given this precious box.
Her father made the box for her when she was a child and spent a years salary to purchase the ointment locked inside.  She remembers smelling the sweet fragrance when he and her mother gave it to her on that special day.  Her father told her that one day she would meet a man who would love her and he would marry her and she would wear this fragrance for him. The joy of that memory didn’t last long before the guilt set in again and she remember all the times she secretly opened the box to use just a tiny amount for men she thought were “the one” only to find out they weren’t.  She hoped that this man would be different.  She prayed “God if you’re listening to me please let this man be what I believe him to be”.  “Don’t let me be wrong again”
As she drew closer to Simon’s house her heart began to race wildly.  She began to become painfully aware of every heartbeat and breathing became labored.  She felt like something was going to happen but she didn’t know what.  Would this be the best day of her life or the worst? 
It’s then that feelings of fear and dread began to overcome her.  “What will they do when they see me?  Will Simon kick me out?  Will Jesus refuse to let me near Him?  Maybe He’s like all the rest. Maybe He will stone me!” she thought.  This horror caused her to slow her pace for a minute thinking about turning back but something inside said “keep going!”  so she continued on running as fast as she could. 
When she reached the door to Simon’s house she saw Jesus sitting at the table eating.  She ran to him and fell at His feet crying.  She couldn’t speak for the tears that were falling.  Suddenly she realized her tears were falling on His feet and then a feeling of dread came over her.  She thought, “I’m a sinner and this man is a prophet from God.  My tears have touched him and made him unclean.  What if he gets angry with me.  I can’t handle another rejection.  Oh God, what have I done?”.  She quickly looked around for a towel to wipe His feet with but there wasn’t one.  She had to remove her tears from him but how?  She couldn’t use her hands they were dirty too. 
She finally decided to let her hair down.  She leaned over and wiped His feet with her hair to dry them off.  Something about doing that made her feel better.  It was as if she felt connected to Him.  Her heart began to feel a little less empty.
It was at that moment that something came over her, a feeling she had not felt since she sat on her dad’s lap and fell asleep as a little girl before bed time.  She felt safe.  She felt loved.  She felt…accepted.  She couldn’t explain it but it was there and she was grateful. 
In an act of unashamed worship she broke open the alabastar box and poured it on Jesus and continued wiping His feet with her hair.
You could hear a gasp as the people in the room saw what she had done. They began to whisper “Why is this sinner touching Jesus?” “Why is she waisting such expensive ointment that could be used to feed the poor?” but this time she didn’t let the whispers cause her to be ashamed.  She had found a man God sent to her, a man who made her feel loved and adored and she didn’t care what anyone else thought.  She was going to lay it all out for him.  All that mattered in this moment was letting Jesus know that she was grateful for His love!
What an amazing story.  The sinner and the Savior.  The humbled and the exalted.  The problem child and the one who holds the answers to the problem!
Mary’s act of worship was hated in the world’s eyes but adored by the eyes that saw past her faults to the potential in her heart.  Simon was disgusted by this woman.  She was a sinner, an immoral woman who was the opposite of everything he “professed” to be and Jesus was allowing her to touch Him.  I’m sure in Simon’s pharisee mindset holiness was not supposed to be touched by sinful people.  God is supposed to hide behind the veil and sin could not stand in it’s presence.  At that time Simon probably made up his mind about Jesus and couldn’t wait to go back to the temple and tell them all about this.  You see even though Simon and his Pharisee friends proclaimed to be clean in reality they were just as dirty as this immoral woman.  Only their dirt came from a different plot of land.  The land called hypocrisy.
Simon didn’t realize that Jesus was there to take our sins on himself.  The veil that separated us from God was about to be ripped by the power of the Spirit that would free us from our sins!
Simon had the opportunity to honor Jesus but he chose not to.  It was customary in that time for owner of the house to have a servant wash guest’s feet before they entered the house.  Simon didn’t do this, according to Jesus, which would have been considered an insult in that time.  Mary did with her tears.
Now it would be easy to look at Simon and judge him.  After all, he’s a Pharisee but what about the others at the feast?  The disciples were there as well.  None of them offered to get water to wash their Lord’s feet either.  They were too busy enjoying the meal set before them, the blessings of the ministry, to be concerned with something that is reserved for the lowest of servants.  It’s possible to spend our time focusing so much on the “important” things that we forget to worship which ultimately is the important thing.  The disciples were focused on what was being done for them and not on what they could do for God.  I wonder if the disciples remembered this night at the last supper during the Passover feast when Jesus got on his knees and washed their feet.
God desires us to worship him.  He loves nothing more than when a child forgets about the world around them and risks making a fool out of themselves in order to show their love for Him.  Mary did just that.
What do you have in your life that you cherish?  Your reputation? Your career? Your talents?  Do you hide them under your bed to keep them safe pulling them out periodically to stare at them with pride and clean them up.
Is touching Jesus’ heart so important to you that you would be willing to break open the box that you’ve cherished so long and “waste” it by pouring it on Jesus and saying “Here you go Lord, this is all I have to give”.
Peace, Love, and Awakening!
Did you know you can follow Lee Lumley Ministries on Facebook? Well, What are you waiting for? Go do it!…please.

And God Waits…

I am exhausted. I was awake for twenty-two hours yesterday. Twenty of those hours were spent either working or driving to and from job sites. I left my house yesterday at 6:45 am and got home this morning at 4:00 am. It is currently 9:46 am and I have been up since 7:00 so I am operating off of three hours sleep. Never mind the fact that I only got four hours sleep the night before. I will say it again, I am exhausted! I’m also frustrated, a little moody…eh, angry might be a better word, and confused out of my mind. I mean, I seriously can’t think straight.

It began early this morning as we were making the three hour drive home. The route we took went straight through the town I lived in for six years and much of it was the exact route I drove for two years to and from work every day as we were working right next door to one of my former stores. Yet, I could not keep my bearings straight. This was not good considering I was the ship’s navigator so to speak. A couple of times we had to stop, turn around, and get back on course. GPS might would have been a better navigator but, “don’t worry I know this town like the back of my hand!”. Lol!

We stopped at one point to buy some coffee. I am certain the cashier probably thought I was smashed of my gourd from alcohol. I was swaying to and fro as I walked, my speech was slow and a bit slurred, and when he handed me my bag, I dropped it on the floor. It was not a good night for me…though my coworkers had quite a laugh, I’m sure.

What to do? What to do? Continue reading

Maybe I Am a Fraud


I bet you didn’t know that I have a ministry page of Facebook, Lee Lumley Ministries. I have always used Facebook more as a ministry outlet than personal. That may not be good thing because I don’t interact with people very much. After all, I don’t post pics of my meals, I post some pics of my kids, but I rarely ever just randomly post silly comments or quips. I guess I am just singularly focused on God for the most part. I’ve actually had someone tell me that I need “chill” and think about God less. How can I do that? Not that Definition of fraudI’m trying to make myself look like some amazing man, but with all God has done for this wretched man, how can I not make Him my singular focus?

Anyway, one of the things I have noticed lately, as I post things on LLM and people are beginning to interact with me. I have a fear every time I see a notification that someone commented. I worry that someone will say something that proves me to be incorrect and that I will look like a false teacher. That thought almost cripples me at times as I pause before I look at the comment.

Don’t get me wrong, I post nothing without thoroughly studying the subject. I have spent the last five years devoting myself to studying God’s word and although I have a lot more to learn, I feel fairly confident I have a pretty good grasp on it’s truths. Even with that confidence I still check and double check the context of my scriptures before I post anything. And yet, I have a fear being found a fraud. Continue reading