shelbyabbott.com

Here I am again at THE spring break destination for anyone lookin' to escape from the trials and tribulations of the cold weather environment: Panama City Beach, FL. The Big Break conference happens here each and every year and I've had the priviledge to emcee this amazing event for about a dozen years. 

"Twelve years?" you say. "Did you start emceeing Big Break when you were in high school, Shelby?" 

To which I answer, "Yes. Yes I did." (Not really...I'm just old.)

Being down here again this year with the likes of Roger Hershey and Matt Mikalatos has been an amazing priviledge and I'm honored to share the stage with such amazing men of the Lord. In fact, I have no idea why I'm even allowed to be up there with such prestigiousness. 

Regardless, it's already been an incredible time and I'm looking forward to the next few weeks here in PCB. If you're not coming to the conference, you can check out the live stream each morning and night here: http://big-break.com/

Happy spring break, kiddos!

Even though I’m only 5’6” tall and weigh a buck forty soaking wet, I’m a surprisingly good athlete out on the flag football field. Really, I am; don’t snicker.

A few years ago, I was part of a flag football team known simply as “The Amazing Really Goods”. That’s such a great team name, isn’t it? Our desire was to have a title that would send a message to all those opponents we would face out there…and that message was: we’re amazing and we’re really good.

One year, our season of hard work landed us smack dab in the middle of the championship for the coveted title of “Division 2 Intramural Flag Football Champions of the South East Region”. This was a title that we did not take lightly.

For our final game, we were playing a team called “Ricky Williams’ Secret Stash,” which gave me a pretty good understanding of what these dudes did on a typical Saturday night. Rumor had it that they were pretty tough out on the football field, so I remember being very nervous during pre-game warm-ups. Looking around at my teammates as we stretched, I could see that all of them were feeling exactly the same thing that I was feeling…all of them except for Matt.

Let me tell you a little bit about Matt. See, he was a senior in the Army ROTC program at school and he had just returned home from a 12-month stint in Iraq, literally fighting for our country.

While overseas, Matt carried a weapon and sometimes he even had to use it. He saw explosions, screaming women and children in pain, tanks, humvees, blood and sand. Good friends of his got shot and he was even shot at himself on occasion. In everyone’s eyes, Matt was a hero who had just come back from war. No one debated that.

And now we stood together on a silly intramural flag football field; me feeling nervous and scared while Matt looked as serene as if he were on vacation in the Caribbean.

The game started. We played hard and the outcome was close, but sadly, we ended up losing to the pot-smokers in the end. I remember how frazzled we all were when we were defeated. Some guys left the field without speaking a word and others held their heads low…but again, not Matt.

Matt was lighthearted afterward. He skipped across the field and picked up his bag while throwing an arm around a friend and playfully punching him. I was puzzled at the time and I asked myself, “How can he be so cavalier about the fact that we just lost the biggest game of the season?” I didn’t get it.

Well, it only took me a few days to figure out what was going on in Matt’s mind the night we lost. The answer was simple: to him, it truly was only a game. The Intramural Flag Football Championship was so small in comparison to the things he experienced in the thick of battle only a few months previous. Matt had gone through war, so why get so upset about something that was supposed to be fun competition?

You know, I think a lot about Matt and his experiences when I think about evangelism. In many ways, when we are out there on the front lines of battle for God’s Kingdom sharing our faith, the other annoying little details of life begin to slip into their rightful place behind what’s really important.

When I’m active in reaching out to others with the gospel, suddenly (for example) traffic doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. The small things in life truly become smaller in light of the fact that people die every day without knowing Jesus.

I now understand why Matt was the way he was at the game that night. I only wish that I could continue to have that kind of proper perspective on life when it comes to majoring in the majors and letting the minors be the minors during my years on this planet. Our time here is short and God calls us to live in light of eternity.

Someone very wise once told me that all of life is about perspective. And when I’m sharing my faith on a regular basis, my perspective is vividly accurate because I’m focused on the things that are most important in light of all eternity. I don’t sweat the details and I don’t lose my cool over stuff that, in the grand scheme of things, just doesn’t matter as much. Matt was a great guy that had great perspective that I can continue to learn from.

Now if I could only go back and change the outcome of that flag football game…kidding.

I really like thinking about how great of a guy I am. I know that sounds bad, but regrettably, it’s true.

I’m a genius when it comes to knowledge on the subject of me. I’m literally obsessed with myself. Not a day goes by when I don’t think, “What could make me happier right now?” or “what do I want to do?” And if you were honest, you’d probably say the same thing about yourself. Am I right?

Self-obsession has always been a human problem, but recently I think we’ve taken it to new levels by championing it to the highest levels within our very existence. Ask any kid what they want to be when they grow up and this is what they’ll most likely tell you: a rock star, an actor, a fashion designer, or a superstar athlete. Ask the same question to a kid 20 years ago, and you’d get a very different answer with a very different mindset: a fireman, a mom, a police officer, or an army soldier. Yesteryear used to be about giving of yourself to better society around you. Now it’s about how to achieve the most success and get the most money to live in a big house with fancy cars and cool clothes. I know I’m probably sounding a bit like a crotchety old man here, complaining about the present and longing for the past, but more and more I’m seeing what a “me-centered” society is doing to our thought process and belief system.

Of course culture is going to continue to get worse. This doesn’t shock me at all. What does bother me, however, is when we allow the tainted teaching of the culture around us to shape our views of the church, the body of believers within it, and God Himself.

Let me let you in on a not-so-big secret from the bible: it’s not about you—it’s about Jesus Christ!

People like Dr. Phil, the women on The View, Tony Robbins and Joel Osteen want you to believe that if you work hard enough to become a better you and believe that the capability is inside of you to achieve the greatness that you deserve, you will aspire to great things. The only small, little, tiny problem is this: you’re simply not capable of being better in your own power. Whoops...kind of changes everything, doesn’t it?

No matter how hard I try, I have never ever been able to make my sinful nature improve by trying harder to become a better me. Every seven-step program that I have implemented into my daily routine has failed miserably. All the sincere promises I have made to myself and to God to try harder and do better the next time have come up wanting in the end. In my own power, I am a loser ten times out of ten. Why? Because I can’t do it on my own! I need Jesus!

And so do you.

It’s a warm and fuzzy feeling when someone tells you that you are capable of achieving prominence. But to what end does that desire for prominence produce? Most often, the motivator to improve ourselves is solely for the glory of us. See, when you peel back the warm and fuzzy layers of self-esteem, there is a dark and disgusting idol that rests in the center of the shiny exterior—pride.

Nobody today likes to admit that they need help. We all fantasize about sitting in the chair opposite of Oprah Winfrey while being applauded by the studio audience for pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps and making it on our own (well, at least I fantasize about that).

“Nobody helped me on my way to the top.”
“I did it all by myself.”
“I worked hard and I achieved my goals.”
“I believed in my heart that I could do it and I did.”

These are the kind of statements the culture admires and praises as something worth taking note of remembering. These are the phrases that make people tear up and silently proclaim, “good for them”. And unfortunately, this is the prevailing mentality that has oozed its way into the church, bringing with it the destructive arrogance that has been the downfall of humanity time and time again. In Genesis 11, all the people at the Tower of Babel thought very highly of themselves and consequently, the Lord intervened to help them understand where their rightful place was in terms of importance.

Understand what I’m saying here and what I’m not. I’m not saying that you are worthless garbage. I’m not saying that you aren’t valuable and special either. You are very important to God…if you weren’t, do you think He would have sent His only Son, Jesus Christ, to die for you? You have incredible worth because of what God has done for you through Jesus Christ.

The problem begins to take shape, however, when we get cocky and think that all of life is about us and what we can do to make a name for ourselves. God is very clear about the fact that He will not share His glory. He is jealous for it and when we try to steal His glory for ourselves, it is sin…even if masked by the perpetual back-patting happiness of self-esteem motivators.

All of you, clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, because, "God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble." (I Peter 5:5)

A good definition of humility is “knowing your place”. God is God and we are not. The quicker we realize this, the better off we will be, I promise.

Success in life doesn’t come by believing in the capability we have to be better people, it comes by knowing our place and believing that God is the ultimate good power and loving authority over all things…including your life.

Everything that I’m about to tell you is absolutely true and the details have not been exaggerated or skewed to fabricate something more than what actually happened that day. 

When I was about 15 years old, I went on a camping trip with my sister, my ex-Step Mom, and her current boyfriend that later became her husband. (This is a story in and of itself, but I’m not going to go there right now.) It was approaching the end of a summertime trip of seeing most of my extended family in California and I decided to take this camping trip with the aforementioned group of people to a lake area someplace in the state of Oregon before the vacation was over.

Now, once we got there, we weren’t really going to rough it in tents or anything like that, because we had a huge pop-up fifth wheel camper in tow, complete with kitchen, shower, and one of those toilets you have to hook up to a giant hose to empty when you exit the campsite (think cousin Eddie from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation). Not exactly real camping mind you, but I have no regrets about sleeping on a bed away from blood-sucking insects when I get the chance.

When we completed the drive up north and pulled into the campground where we would be staying, my breath caught in my chest at the site of this absolutely beautiful area. There were cedar trees that seemed taller than skyscrapers. There was a lake with clearer water than I had ever seen in my life. There were miniature fields of clover and wildflowers, populated by deer and birds that literally came up to humans and ate tiny scraps of bread from the hands of children. And the coolest thing of all to me were the hundreds of prairie dogs that skittered through the patches of flowers and clover, dodging tree roots and diving into little holes they had burrowed in to call their homes.

Before I go on, let me tell you a little something about 15 year-old boys: they’re idiots. Truly, they are. When we stopped the truck and hopped out to take in the view of the land, the first thing that went through my 15 year-old mind was not, “Wow, this place is gorgeous!” Rather, this is the initial thought that came to my brain: “Hmm, I wonder how many times I could throw a rock at a prairie dog before I could hit it?”

I’ll say it again—15 year-old boys are idiots.

We quickly settled in to our campsite and got situated enough to feel like home for a few days before each of us decided to go exploring on our own for a few minutes. I took this time to immediately make a B-line for the nearest patch of clover, in hot pursuit of my prairie dog prey.

On my way, I bent down and randomly picked up 4 or 5 medium sized rocks that I thought were just the right shape and weight to hurl at a speeding animal the size of a large rat. When I got to the first mini-field of clover and flowers, I widened my stance a bit and stood silently like a sumo wrestler on the edge of a ring, ready to pounce as soon as the situation called for it. Only a couple of minutes went by before I saw a prairie dog pop up out of a hole in the ground and start darting across the field, away from where I was standing.

A starting gun went off in my mind and I sprang forward toward the little thing with the speed of an average teenage girl chasing down Robert Pattinson in a parking lot. When the prairie dog spotted me running after it, he kicked it into high gear and darted away from me with the kind of haste that can only be described as “awe-inspiring”.  It was now or never for me, so as I was in mid-stride, I plucked a single rock from the cluster of them in my left hand, cocked back my entire right arm, and chucked the stone toward the prairie dog like a Major League Baseball pitcher.

What happened next appeared to me in what seemed like slow motion. The rock flew through the air, top over bottom toward the little guy on a frozen rope of complete accuracy. Inch by inch, it sailed toward him, finally making stunningly perfect contact at the back of his head, then ricocheting off at a 90 degree angle toward the woods. I think I heard a small “thump” sound in that moment followed by a tiny little, “nooooo!,” but it’s possible that I had just imagined that part.

The prairie dog instantly flipped over onto his back, put both of his front paws together, and made like he was digging a hole in the air for a few seconds. Then he stopped sharply, froze his paws in mid-air and collapsed onto his left side. When I processed the fact that I had hit the prairie dog on my first throw, I stopped running, dropped the remaining rocks in my hand, lifted both of my fists to the sky and shouted, “I hit him on the first try! All of you woodland creatures bow before me, for I am your KING!”

A couple of mental high-fives and booty shakes later, I walked over to the little guy to gently nudge him from his stunned state, in hopes that he would just shake it off and run back into the closest hole. But what I discovered next would quickly change my prideful attitude and burn this whole experience into my mind for the rest of my life.

Gently tapping him with my shoe didn’t wake him. Clapping my hands loudly next to his head didn’t make him move. And poking him tenderly with a nearby stick didn’t make him hop to his feet and scurry away. In that moment, I came to the realization that I had, in fact, killed that precious little prairie dog with a crude rock that I found on nature’s floor.

A wave of remorse promptly swept over me. All of the pride and jubilation I felt from my rock-throwing accuracy drained from my body, leaving nothing but guilt and sadness. I couldn’t believe that I had actually killed that cute tiny creature because of an idiotic desire to turn rock throwing into a game. What had I done?...what had I done?

After about 10 minutes of self-condemnation, I came up with a plan to make things right. I took the stick I had been holding and dug a hole in the ground, roughly the size of a shoebox. I then stepped over in front of the dead prairie dog and picked him up with my bare hands (I do not recommend this, by the way) and gently laid him inside his final resting place. After covering him with the loose soil I had dug up, I walked over to the nearest patch of wildflowers, picked 4 or 5 (ironically the same number of rocks I had initially picked up), and placed them on top of the grave. I then performed a small funeral service that included 2 full minutes of silence and a genuine heartfelt prayer that went something like this:  

Lord, I’m so sorry for murdering one of the creatures you created. Please forgive me. I pray that you would accept this prairie dog into your presence and may he always run freely in the clover fields of glory. Amen.

 After the service was over, I felt so much better about myself for handling my mistake in a way that was honorable and good. I was able to enjoy the rest of the camping trip we had in the beautiful state of Oregon, and I vowed never again to throw rocks of any kind at any of God’s creatures.

I know this may sound funny to you after a story like this, but we as human beings do this kind of stuff all the time with God. No, I don’t mean the whole funeral for a prairie dog thing…I’m talking about the heart attitude of checks and balances. Whenever we foul up and make a mistake that overwhelms us with guilt, we think that our bad thing can be covered up in God’s eyes if we do something good. Now, I quite literally thought that I could cover up my misdeed with a good act of an appropriate burial service, but I’m also extremely guilty of the “good stuff cancels out bad stuff” belief system in my everyday life too. I always think, “If I just feel guilty long enough” or “If I’m nicer to more people today than yesterday” or “If I give more than I gave last time” or “If I read my bible for a longer time today,” etc. It may sound ridiculous, but my heart really thinks that these kinds of actions and attitudes can save me from condemnation. How incredibly foolish!

I have yet to find the verse or verses in the bible that say something to the effect of, “Doing one good thing cancels out doing one bad thing, so make sure that you do more good things than bad things or God isn’t going to love you and He’ll probably send you to hell.” Why do we diminish the grace of God to checks and balances? Why do we believe that we can save ourselves from condemnation with a good thought or a good action? Being in the good graces of God has nothing to do with our actions and everything to do with the love of God through His Son, Jesus Christ.

If you believe that it’s about Jesus and His love, you will live that way, and if you live that way, your life will shine in stark contrast to the kind of life that is enslaved to performance. Connection with God is about grace through faith, not good action to appease wrath and guilt. Stop performing prairie dog funeral services to make yourself feel better and start living in the truth that a relationship with God cannot be bought with good works.