I recently discovered that Amazon gives away a number of books every day, delivered straight to your Kindle. Some I’ve been able to pick up include Francis Chan’s The Forgotten God, Crazy Love, and Erasing Hell. These are not reject books. They are good ones. I actually paid money for a couple of them. Getting them from Amazon for free, well, what can I say? I like “free”.

One of the books I picked up this way was Secondhand Jesus. I had heard of it, but I didn’t know anything about it or its author. But free is free, right? So I grabbed it for my Kindle reader on my phone. (Now, when you see me walking about looking at my phone, you know what I am doing: Either reading a book or playing Wordsmith with Tim.)

Secondhand Jesus was written by Glenn Packiam. He begins by recalling the Thursday he and the rest of the staff at his church learned that their senior pastor, Ted Haggard, had been accused of involvement in drugs and even more as the scandal broke. Packiam moves from this event to discuss our need to have a personal relationship with the God of the Bible, rather than the god of convenience.

The book reminds us that God is God and we are not — that He is holy, separate, sovereign, and not there to serve our whims or ensure we have good parking spaces when we go to the mall. Packiam demonstrates this by giving personal accounts of his own spiritual journey and by retelling biblical stories, making them come to life. He reminds us of God’s holiness by spending time discussing the Ark of the Covenant, specifically the folly of thinking you can “use” it for your purposes. As Packiam unfolds this, he gives the best explanation of the death of Uzzah that I’ve ever heard. Perhaps it’s a common explanation, but it never clicked in my head until I read Chapter 9, Carts.

This book would be a good read for someone who is beginning to realize the shallowness of some Christian media presentations. It would be challenging to read for someone who feels God lives to make our lives pleasant. It would be a healthy read for anyone who wants to or needs to see God more accurately.

I recommend it.

Josh Tkacik came across this video and shared it with some friends.

It’s a great picture of passion.

Mike + the Mechanics were singing in my head when I woke up. Do you remember the song?

I wasn’t there that morning
When my Father passed away
I didn’t get to tell him
All the things I had to say

I think I caught his spirit
Later that same year
I’m sure I heard his echo
In my baby’s new born tears
I just wish I could have told him in the living years

Bad theology aside (regarding his father’s spirit), I really liked that song. It came into my life at a time when I had a good relationship with my own father. It caused me to reflect upon  my high school years when I didn’t respect him because of my own folly. It helped me to pursue a vital relationship with him until he died just over a decade later. I am glad that those last few years went the way they did. I have no regrets.

On the other side of that stands my father. I wonder how he felt about those years. I hope he feels good about them. He was a great dad. He provided all our physical needs — food and shelter. He provided love for us. He gave us a good role-model of what it meant to be a husband, being faithful to Mom for all their married life. He ensured that we were spiritually nourished, taking, instead of sending, us to church regularly. He helped me get a good education. He was a great man. He should have no regrets.

Recently I was speaking to a friend who has regrets. She noted that one of her children had decided there was no God. She tried to deal with this herself, with some logical and evidential examples, but there was no moving this “omniscient” high-school student. As she shared her concern with Laurel and me, my mind went back several years to a time when she and her family disappeared from church. It was during a personal struggle and they simply decided that they couldn’t attend church at that time. Now, it seems, she looks back at that with regret. You could hear it in her voice and see it in her eyes. My heart went out to her.

I wish I could fix that. I wish I could erase her regrets. But I can’t. The past is the past and there is no going back. All my friend can do is leave the past with God (he tends to redeem such things), ask his forgiveness for her mistakes, and take intentional steps regarding the future. As we parted, I invited her back to church. I believe doing so will help her avoid accumulating even more regrets.

I have regrets about the past — particularly in the area of my own family. I wish I had been a better husband in the early years of marriage, being more tender toward my wife. I wish I had been a better father to my children, communicating on a deeper level with them. I wish…. But I can’t change that. I, like my friend, am forced to leave the past with God, repenting of my errors, and asking him to help me be the person I should be, starting now.

That’s the way to stop regretting your regrets.

Maybe that’s part of what Paul meant when he said: But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:13b-14)