FirstManColter

What if Donkeys...

2012-01-11T14:57:00.000-06:00

Numbers 22 offers one of my favorite laugh-out-loud stories in the Bible, but only in the King James Version. (Yes, I'm a 13 year-old boy and the word "ass" brings involuntary twitches to the corners of my mouth.) So this guy Balaam is a professional "curser". A malediction for hire. And he owns it. Want him to bless the Israelite? If the price is right he will proclaim painless circumcisions and pleasant childbirths for all. Want him the curse the Israelites? Simply cough up the denarii and he will call down plagues upon the sheep and good health upon the swine.

But God doesn't take kindly to His children being cursed for profit, by prophet. So He sends an angel to kill Balaam as he is on his way to curse Israel. Fortunately Balaam's ass is smarter than his owner. And has better vision too. The donkey sees the angel in the path and turns away into a field. Balaam sees no angel, so he rebukes the donkey for being a dumb ass, and the donkey gets back on the road. Next, the angel stands in the path at a point where there are walls on both sides. The donkey again turns away, smashing Balaam into the wall in the process. And again, Balaam beats the donkey and gets her going again. Finally, then angel stands in a narrow path where there is no avoiding him. This time the donkey just falls down, refusing to face the angel. Now Balaam is really mad. He wishes for a sword so he can execute the donkey for her stubbornness, That'll teach her. But now something altogether unexpected happens (if its not unexpected to you, you might be desensitized to the amazing stories of the Bible). The donkey talks. And, only slightly less amazing, Balaam responds. Like this was an everyday occurrence. As though he and the donkey had been singing show tunes and arguing about which regions of Moab have the best night life for the past 20 miles. Balaam is so angry he doesn't have the bandwidth leftover to process that his ass just spoke to him, he just fires right back. I don't know what kind of sense of humor you have, but I think this is hilarious. The donkey tries to explain that he's just trying to help, but it takes the Lord opening Balaam's eyes and Balaam seeing the angel with the sword before his anger melts into tears of repentance.

I love this story because sometimes I'm the donkey. I see people heading toward danger and I try to warn them and all I get in return is the modern day version of Balaam's abuse, "Stop judging me".

Also, I hate this story because sometimes I am Balaam. I'm on the wrong path and can't see it. Someone tries to warn me and I get defensive, offer excuses and try to justify my choices.

From both sides it brings to mind this wisdom from the wise younger (half)brother of Jesus: "My brothers and sisters, if one of you should wander from the truth and someone should bring that person back, remember this: whoever turns a sinner from the error of his ways will save them from death and cover over a multitude of sins." James 5:21-22

2011-12-10T22:00:00.000-06:00

I am dying.
death hangs over me
a threatening cloud
a bolt could strike in between the next two heartbeats
even while i wait
death stands not idle
but encroaches slyly into my moments
slipping from shadow to shadow
at the edges of my awareness
presence felt yet unseen
while i laugh and work
play and pray and pretend
that the fortress of fantasy
i built will protect, preserve, life kept in the keep
ahh sweet pretense
blissful insubstantial wisps of security
it only lets me mis-remember the danger
mis-take false enemies for the true
another choice gently takes my childlike hand
like a father leading his small son across the street
die.
let it happen
no more hiding
no more fear
not an escape but a pursuit
what if something better lies beyond
what if the pain of letting go of this somewhat life
proves the prescription for finding life abundant
what if all that's lost makes space for all i need
these what ifs ring true
and the bells awaken me sometimes
and i die
i am dying
a little more each day
and find i am more alive than ever

What if obedience...?

2011-12-02T21:51:00.001-06:00

I can't think of anything simpler and more difficult than obedience. Simple to understand, hard to do.
Just ask my four-year old. "Kamden, do not hit your brother." 30 seconds later, he hits his brother. So I punish him for disobeying. "Son, if you would just obey, your life would be so much easier." We have this conversation almost daily.
I've been reading George MacDonald's The Hope of the Gospel. I don't pretend to really understand it, but the main subject of the first chapter has really grabbed my attention. He writes about evil in clear, unmistakable terms. I'm not certain exactly what he's getting at, but it got me thinking how little I actually think about evil. I'm even capable of being fooled, not recognizing when its right in front of me. Pride is not as subtle as we like to pretend. There's not as much gray area in lust as we would hope.
We agonize over knowing God's will. What am I supposed to do with my life? What are my gifts and what should I do with them? What does it mean to really love God with all my soul? Which movies are ok for me to watch? Define gossip. And on and on.
What if obedience is the answer to all these questions?
If I would be willing to open my eyes to the obvious Good and the obvious Evil right in front of me and act accordingly, I would at least be moving in the direction of God's will, right?
Is it really that simple?
It must be, 'cause it sure is hard.
Like my son, I would find life quite a bit easier in terms of dealing with the consequences of my actions if I would simply obey.
There's a lot more words I could throw at this discussion, but I would be in danger of making the very mistake I'm trying to avoid - complicating the issue.
I think I'll just work on obedience. This will lead me to dig up some latent thoughts on practicing the presence of God. Maybe that will come up in the next one...

What if Identity...?

2011-11-18T09:09:00.001-06:00

One of the great benefits of having children is the opportunity to watch "kid movies" without putting off strong weirdo vibes. Some of my recent favorites include Megamind, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, and How to Train Your Dragon. Story tellers and movie makers have done a great job creating unlikely characters that reach into your chest, wrap their cold two-dimensional fingers around your heart, and squeeze.

Take MegaMind, for example. He's evil. He's a genius. And he's blue. I already don't like him. But as I watch his story unfold, I can't help but be drawn to him. By the end, I'm on whitepagedotcom looking for his address so I can send a nice "thank you" note. The same with Hiccup and Flint Lockwood and Gru and Shrek. They start as goofy, awkward, unpopular, sometimes unlikable characters, but by the time I go through a crisis with them and their true colors are revealed, we're best friends - strictly, non weirdo, "I'm a Dad who only watches these movies 'cause my kids do" best friends.

Why are these stories so attractive? Why are these characters so endearing? Its basic human nature and has been this way since God pulled a shepherd named Moses out of the desert and asked him to save a nation, since Achilles, since Joan of Arc, since Kal-el/Clark Kent, since Peter Parker, since a baby in a manger grew up and saved us all. We want to believe an ordinary person can be a part of something extraordinary. Why? Because we are all ordinary at best.

We long for an identity that transcends what we see in the mirror. So we jockey and climb and maneuver and manipulate to MacGyver our way into more success, more popularity, more internal security. We day dream and imagine and pine for a life we think we want but find always just out of reach. We watch movies about characters who accomplish these day dreams, who find the life they wanted; and we love them because they start out like us; and we hate them because they end up where we wish we were but will never be.

What if there is available to us an identity that fulfills all our hopes and dreams? What if there is a "me" somewhere who does what I wish I could do and ends up at my most idyllic destination?
What price would I pay to own that identity? Money? All I have. Position? The highest. Life itself? Maybe.

A man once wrote, "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live but Christ lives in me."

This sound awfully amazing. Awful and Amazing. Crucified? Not my preferred way to go. But "Christ in me"? Now there's an attractive proposition.

If we're talking about the Christ who was a man, like me, but was always good, always humble, always holy, always at peace and full of joy - if that's the Christ who can live in me, I think I want in.

Death first. I have to first give up the identity that is not really my true self anyway in order to receive this new identity wrapped up in the nature and character of Christ. Fair trade? Absolutely.Easy to do? its a struggle every day. Some days I fail altogether. But in those moments when the old me is truly dead and the new me that is Jesus Christ in me is fully alive, those are the moments when no storybook character can hold a candle to the life I live. It is toward those moments that I aim the arrow of my heart and mind every day. Sometimes my aim is bad. But when its good, I win. And if you happen to be around me that day, you win too. We all win. Eat your heart out MegaMind.

What if Budapest...part 2.

2011-11-04T09:19:00.000-05:00

My time in Budapest was gilded with tours of this beautiful city. Strikingly posed on both banks of the winding Danube, Budapest offers stunning views from every aspect, like a diamond with a thousand glinting facets. I joked with my uncle about how many pictures he was taking, snapping away with his camera like Ansel Adams with ADHD, but in truth, every time my feet stopped, whatever I happened to be looking at was postcard worthy. Ancient ornate architecture boldly fronts the river's edge. Soft round hills knuckle perfectly along the serpentine banks. And the river itself, not wide, not swift, but old, older even than the oldest stories of quest and rest on the Danube, pulls the eyes like a magnet.

Other struggling peoples I have visited in India, Mexico and Jamaica, have captured my heart in a way that would have me standing to my feet alone in a crowd to cheer them on as they work toward a better tomorrow. But the Hungarians, I would strive alongside them, head down, shoulders straining to the task, to see one step of progress achieved, to pause, flash a sardonic smirk at the world, as though to say, "put that in your pipe and smoke it", then strain again to gain one more step.

That God is alive and well in Budapest in evidenced by the hundreds of young people hungry for hope who flood to places where Hope Incarnate is proclaimed. Yet, thousands, maybe millions more, can't look up from their own pain long enough to indulge the folly that hope may be found in Hungary.

So I pray for Hungary, and for my friends Rusty and Beth, and many more like them who have bent their backs to the hard Hungarian life for the opportunity to show the way to Hope.

What if Budapest...part 1

2011-11-01T13:30:00.000-05:00

The best stories are true.
I'm not talking about fiction versus nonfiction.
Lord of the Rings is as true as any history or biography, truer than some.
True stories speak to the reality of who we are as humans, never trying propagate an ideal of human nature that disconnects from the bare experiences of life. They never try to point to hope or fulfillment where none exists or attempt to disprove the reality that joy and peace can be found somewhere. True stories never paint beauty where horror lies plainly visible, and never deny the reality of miracles no matter how incredible.

The story of Hungary is true.
And based on my brief venture into Budapest, Hungarians tell true stories. more than tell them, they live them.
Life in post-Communist Hungary involves much uncertainty regarding government, economy and religion. The few certainties all seem negative.
Many Hungarians find themselves alone and lonely, discouraged if not defeated. But in the midst of hardness they do not stop. They do not stop searching, studying, voting, moving up and down the line between oppression and hope looking for a place to cross.

The tough, gritty story they tell as a people resonates with me like a big brass gong; much of what I hear in my own society sounds hollow and tinny in comparison.

I could learn from their realistic and determined approach. But what I longed to hold out to them was the Way to hope, the Pathway to peace. Jesus seems to blend into the noise of their fight for survival because they can't see how he connects us to the deepest desires of our hearts. This connection is not made clear for them so much in sermons and studies as it is in doing life with Christ-Followers. They, like the rest of the world, need to see Jesus making a difference to real people. This is usually a long process requiring patience and persistence. Not an easy task for missionaries who have supporters wanting to know "how many people have been saved this month?"

I really admire the optimism of my friends who are working in Budapest and I believe their positive outlook will be rewarded; I believe their relational approach will bear fruit.
Hope has come and Christ is alive and well in Budapest. I pray more and more Hungarians will dive into His story. Its true, and its the best of all.

a stab at poetry

2011-10-07T10:58:00.000-05:00

my heart has chosen up
and all my eyes my ears
my thought my want
points me higher
sometimes
for up is beauty
up is true and right
up is love and grace
but gravity, that devil, defies
and sometimes
a goose with amnesia
i scratch and peck down
drag all my eyes my ears
my thought my want
toward the lower
sometimes
the star may refuse to shine
the moon prefer dark
to reflecting light
the sun shuns bursting through clouds
blazing through fog
sometimes
i'm distracted from the pursuit
direction mapped
pillowcase packed
for journey long as life
i stop i stoop
to pet the slugs at my feet
my aspiration is elevation
my crusade is freedom from down
gravity let go!
my heart has chosen up

What if transformation...?

2011-09-30T11:15:00.001-05:00

In the process of indoctrinating...I mean educating, my boys on movies that matter, we recently watched Star Wars III Revenge of the Sith. They were deeply impacted by the transformation of Anakin Skywalker into Darth Vader. It blows their otherwise really flexible child minds that someone who started out so good could end up being so bad. As an adult, I could see it coming. It was a slow burn in that young padawan - anger, pride, jealousy. He set out on the path to "the dark side" long before he put on the black suit and sleep-apnea mask.

Now take that whole process - a good person becoming bad - and reverse it, and that's what happens in the life of a Christ-follower.

This is even more mind-blowing, that a bad person can become good. But I see it happening in me.

I started out with anger, pride, jealousy, lust, etc., ad infinitum, but the more of my heart I give over to the Spirit of Christ in me, the more of these He purges. Then He gives me this incredible, otherwise unattainable, gift of righteousness! I don't do righteousness. Trust me, I don't have it in me to be selfless, humble, patient, compassionate. But Christ has righteousness oozing out His every God-Incarnate pore. Christ has humility in spades, patience galore and compassion excessive. And He desires to live out this righteousness in me.

"God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God." -Paul

So what is my role in this transformation? Just give in to it. "Remain in Christ" (John 15:4). "Walk in the light" (1 John 1:7). "Offer my body as a living sacrifice" (Romans 12:1). None of these indicate that I can produce righteousness by trying harder. Nowhere does scripture teach me that I can transform myself if I really want to bad enough. God transforms me from unrighteous to righteous through Christ at work in me.

I love this truth. but I have something ingrained in me that fights it. I have these habits of thought that repeat, "You screwed up because you're not trying hard enough. Do better. Be good. Do the right thing. Its up to you."

I have to battle this predisposition toward producing righteousness one my own every day and keep reminding myself, there's hope for all of us Siths out there. Only Jesus.

on middle aged grad students

2011-09-16T12:54:00.003-05:00

As I said goodbye to the program director of LCU's MA in Organizational Leadership at the end of Wednesday's entrance interview, reality hit me like a pool table falling out of a banyan tree: I am on the verge of committing 18-20 a week of the next two years of my life to online* graduate level education.

My heart rate accelerated from its usual Moonlight Sonata tempo to more of a Flight of the Bumblebee speed. My lungs seized in my chest. I had to sit down. If a mirror had been handy I would have been appalled at my pallor, I'm sure.

Over-reaction?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Its been 12 years since last I was enrolled in a formal academic course. I don't recall being a very diligent student then. And now, with a wife and two children, full time ministry, involvement in a small group, books to read, rooms to paint...and Guilder to frame for it! I'm swamped!**

So I'm a little apprehensive about my ability to devote the time and energy to these courses. However, I am convinced at a deep level that I need to be challenged and stretched as a leader. I need to descend into more effective leadership. Instead of trying to climb a leadership structure to a higher level, I need to learn to serve at a lower level and lead from humility, selflessness and a complete lack of self-consciousness. Integrity and character are what make leaders worth following - not knowledge. Knowledge: I have some and its pretty simple to gain more. Integrity? Its harder to obtain and maintain. This program has enticed me through its commitment to teaching servant leadership and personal integrity as the destination. My cohort and I will pursue these together.

So will I have time? Will I be able to afford the costs? These remain uncertain. Is it worth the effort? I believe the answer is yes. I'll leave the uncertainties to the One for whom nothing is uncertain. I'll do my best with the tasks set before me. And I'll enjoy the ride.

*For those of you who consider getting a degree online in the same academic category as pre-school graduation and S+ on the Kindergarten report card, please do a little more research. Its the real deal.

** A line from The Princess Bride, which, as Kyle Idleman says, "is a favorite among Christians, even though Kirk Cameron isn't in it."

Thinking about thinking

2011-09-14T12:54:00.001-05:00

Whatcha thinking about?

This question, from pretty much anyone, but especially from my wife, hits me just wrong most days. Its like someone told me to imagine square circles or asked me what color is 7. It doesn't make sense. Why? because a lot of the time I'm actually thinking about nothing. That may seem odd or even impossible, but its true. At least I'm not conscious of any real, explicable direction to or subject of my thoughts.

But it feels dishonest to respond with, "Nothin'". So I usually make up something interesting. "Well, I was just thinking about how much I like being around you," or "I was thinking about how terrible life would be if we could read each other's minds."

I was challenged recently (through a book called "Renovation of the Heart" by Dallas Willard, which is so deep I have to come up out if it slowly to regulate the pressure to avoid the spiritual "bends") to consider the importance of thought in my spiritual growth. Of course, Thought is a broad subject, but one important aspect is that "whatcha thinkin' about" element. When I'm alone and not focused on any task, where do my thoughts turn? When situations arise to which I need to respond, do I spend time thinking through the variables and outcomes, or do I simply react like a hockey puck being slapped around by obligations and expectations?

I would like to think of myself as a thoughtful person, but that's like saying I would like to think of myself as humble person or a great poet or a superstrong flying vigilante who keeps the world safe every night between 10 and 2. Sure, it would be nice, but its not reality.

Can I become a thoughtful person? Can I discipline my mind, my time, to use the brain God gave me for more than just dominating people at Words With Friends? (I am pretty good at it, but not unbeaten)

I think its important enough to warrant some effort and attention. So here's to a week of more productive thinking. I guess we'll see what happens.

Retreat Day

2011-09-02T14:16:00.000-05:00

Silly me, I went on a spiritual retreat day with no journal. So it looks like I'll be editing my thoughts for public consumption and recording them here.

At St. Meinrad, an Arch-Abbey and Seminary in Southeast Indiana. The grounds are quite fetching. Not comparable to a lot of places I would go to enjoy nature, but very appealing to the senses, and feature some unique settings, like the grotto pictured above.

I'm not a spiritual giant, so a spiritual retreat for me does not consist of breakthroughs in my walk with Christ, life-changing insights into scripture, or hours of world-changing prayer. I wish this was the case, and I hope someday that sentence will describe my retreats, but for now, I simply try to spend time with Jesus.

What does that look like? I walk around outside alot. There are a couple of ponds on campus with trails surrounding them, park benches, gazebos and the like. I try to slow down and observe my surroundings. Its been more difficult here recently since the construction/restoration of a main building began. The noise of machinery can be a challenge to ignore.

So what did I observe today? All interesting and harmless wildlife fleeing from my presence as though my casual glances were poisonous. Frogs, turtles, butterflies - all the nice creatures. In contrast, all the annoying, biting, pestering creatures rushed toward me voraciously. Mosquitoes, gnats, ticks - I even watched as a small water snake wended its way in my general direction. Why nature works this way, I don't really know, but the easiest thing to do is blame it on Eve and the Fall.

I read scripture and pray as I walk. I've discovered that I am a kinetic pray-er. I find it difficult to focus on what I'm saying while sitting or standing still, but let me walk, even if only in tight, dizzying circles, and I can go for...minutes. I try to avoid the pressure to pray about Everything. Sometimes when I set aside time for prayer I feel like I have to mention absolutely every person (sick and well, Lost and Saved, missionaries and ministers, family, friends and enemies), lift up every event, dig up every personal weakness and fault. It can be overwhelming, and I find I barely scratch the surface of many important matters. So I narrow the focus to a few matters, then spend some time trying to listen. This is tough. it requires silence, patience, simplicity. I usually find a one-day retreat too short to really listen well. I need a couple days of de-tox from my normal life to clear all the noise out of my head and heart first.

For scripture reading I choose familiar passages on which I can meditate at length. Today, John 5-12. That's sounds like a huge chunk, but I've got 6 hours. Its just about right.
Normally I would journal thoughts and questions about the passage, but having no journal today, I simply talked some of it through out loud - something easier to do in complete solitude than in, say, Starbucks.

I usually visit the library, either to escape weather or to have a more comfortable seat than nature can offer. Today I browsed a little, read a sermon from a book of homilies, flipped through a couple volumes on the topic of "Jesus as the 'Son of Man'", and scanned a brief treatise on speaking in tongues.

I keep lunch very simple, letting a slight hunger remain throughout the day to keep me sharp.

I always visit the Church. Here its more of what people would think of as a cathedral. Lots of columns and arches, marble and granite, stained glass, ridiculously high ceilings, statues and carvings. I love it. I don't understand a lot of it, and some that I do understand I disagree with, but I love the art, the statement it makes about the artists view of God. These artists believe in a really big God.

I do too.

What if Wonder...?

2011-06-10T10:09:00.001-05:00

My friend Reggie Joiner, who doesn't know me at all, has been walking me through a pretty helpful spiritual awareness evaluation. Part of the process involves me recalling moments in my life that have incited in me a wonder of God.

So here goes:

Snowfall at the Grand Canyon, March 1997. The anticipation of laying eyes for the first time on that gaping chasm scarring the skin of the earth comes with certain expectations fueled by photos and the stories of preceding visitors, but I was completely unprepared to view it all through a thick curtain of snow. I remember feeling very blessed to receive that gift.

Kanha Wildlife Refuge, India, October 2007.
While visiting a missionary friend in India, we were able to spend a morning touring this wildly alive patch of jungle. The goal of the tour was to see a tiger. Alas, we saw none, but the abundance of wildlife of varieties unknown to North America dispelled any disappointment at being rebuffed by Shere Khan. Many species of monkeys, birds, deer, all accurately identified by our knowledgeable guide, proved a memorable sight and a testimony to the creativity of the God who created me.

The Close, Southeast Kentucky, many times, most recently, May 2011.
This place does something inexplicable, mysterious, to my soul. Here I have experienced healing, challenge, and most of all the untainted presence of the Lord. To say it is beautiful leaves out too much. It is my Canaan, my Garden of Gethsemane, my Mount of Transfiguration, my Pool of Siloam. I recently spent three wonderful days in seclusion with my wife at The Close. I eagerly long for the next opportunity to Sabbath there.

Student Prayer Gathering, Castle High School, June 2011
This event burns fresh in my mind as it took place only last night. At least 200 high school students gathered to pray for a classmate who had been severely injured in a car accident that morning. Seeing these young people acknowledge their impotence to help their friend and recognize God's omnipotence to heal and restore prodded my own heart to lean more heavily on Him. I stood in wonder of a God who could draw even the most self-absorbed hearts toward Himself.

So my sense of wonder for God, renewed by these memories, these acknowledgments of His creativity, beauty and worth, points me in the right direction - a desire to discover more of Him. Feel free to join me on this journey that promises to lead to a passion for Christ that will overwhelm my insecurities, selfish agendas and complacency and propel me into a life that praises only Him and spills out onto any who stand near me.

Mom and words and the Word

2011-05-04T14:30:00.002-05:00

Words are my favorite. Particularly written words. Without them there would be no Scrabble, no Shakespeare, fortune cookies would just be cookies and Ben Franklin would never have invented libraries. Written words are a significant part of my life and have been since I first entered the infinite and captivating world of reading. If Accelerated Reader programs had existed in the '80s, I would have been king of Byrdstown Elementary School. Although I'm not sure Tarzan and James Bond would have been on the AR list. Reading and writing words has defined me. Words won me couple of spelling contests, a high SAT score, and a wife. Yes, a wife. There's a good story in there about anonymous poems and lifeguard duty, but I'll save it for another post. Let's just say written words were instrumental in getting my future wife to date me.

And I owe this all to my Mom. She passed on to me a passion for words.

Remember Boggle? Mom taught me this game consisting of dice that had letters instead of numbers. you put them in a box, shook the box until the cubes settled, then looked at the letters, combining them to make as many words as possible. I loved it. I could never beat mom, but very few others stood a chance. An then came Scrabble, which I still play regularly, although my live-in opponent has become quite good and beats me often.
Mom introduced me to Charles Dickens. Not literally of course, that's not a crack about her age. But Dickens personified to me perfection in crafting phrases, descriptions and characters that came alive as I read. It was Mom who opened this door for me.
Mom always encouraged my writing. She delighted in everything I put on paper, whether it was actually good or not. She always made me feel like a great talent, a future Dickens or Frost.

I still read a few books a month. I still write fairly often. I am so blessed to inherit the gift of words from my Mom.

My earliest memories of church and Sunday School revolve around my Mother. Not only was she the one pinching me into submission during the sermons, but she was also my Sunday School teacher. Always. I was in High School before I ever had a Sunday School teacher who hadn't given birth to me. And I am so grateful for the incredible passion for God's Word that she passed on to me.

Early on I knew the 12 sons of Jacob in birth order, the Judges of Israel in chronological order, the 12 disciples, not to mention the Books of the Bible and dozens of other helpful details about the Bible. I'm certain she deserves credit for my score on the Bible Knowledge exam taken by Bible College freshman - second highest in my class (the kid who beat me had been preaching part time since he was 16).
I learned not only about the Word, but learned to treasure it, to hold it in high regard, and to trust it.
Today I enjoy an enthusiasm for studying and teaching God's word that has led me into a career in ministry and a life of fulfillment and joy.

And today, I still hold regular conversations with my Mom about the Word, how to understand it better and live it out more fully.

Thank you mom for passing on to me your passion for words and, most importantly, for the Word. These passions have embedded themselves into the GPS coordinates of my life to this point with no
recalculating in sight.

Waterboy

2011-03-16T15:29:00.002-05:00

There's a place in the Kingdom for Waterboys.
In fact, the role of the waterboy seems central to God's Kingdom work here on earth. Let me explain...no, there is no time...let me sum up.

The waterboy job is not exactly skilled labor. There are no try-outs for waterboy, no special training camps or drills to run through at practice. Its a simple task. As revealed by the beloved, if over-zealous, Bobby Boucher (above right), waterboy is often undervalued because he doesn't really contribute on the field of play. While its easy to see that the job of waterboy is actually very important, it remains difficult to assign any value to the person actually doing the job, because in reality, anyone could do it.
Somebody has to do it, but most of us would not relish being relegated to such an invisible and seemingly insignificant role.

Yet look at the characters God uses throughout scripture to get Kingdom work done.
Moses, an 80 year-old shepherd with no obvious leadership skills, is called to lead the Hebrews out of Egypt.
David, a musically inclined shepherd boy, is crowned king of a nation.
Abraham, a man chosen, from all appearances at random, to be the father of a God's people.
Naomi and her Moabite daughter-in-law, Ruth.
Rahab, the pagan prostitute.
And when Jesus comes along it gets even worse (or better?). His entire starting 12 are basically waterboy types; nobodies from nowhere. His mother an unmarried virgin. Father, a Jewish carpenter.

God seems to be trying to make a point.
What we can do on our own has absolutely nothing to do with what He can do through us.
When it comes down to it, most of us are not really exceptional at anything. To look at the lives and expectations on most high school students, you wouldn't believe this. Parents, coaches, teachers collectively convey the message that everyone can be amazing at something. Students come to believe that if they aren't the best in the school, in the county, in the state, in the country, then they aren't worth much to anyone. The pressure of living up to these expectations traps students in a cycle of trying hard, not quite getting there, feeling devalued, getting a pep talk and trying harder.

God is not holding auditions for the best and the brightest. He is inviting all comers to join him in the work of the Kingdom. He is looking for someone who will say Yes.

Just to pre-empt any debate about spiritual gifts and natural skills - yes God does gives us abilities and gifts to do certain things well and we can be hopeful that the Kingdom work to which He calls us will allow us to use what we have. But Kingdom work is not about us using our gifts. Its about getting stuff done, seeing the lost come to Christ, seeing the poor fed and clothed, seeing the oppressed receive justice, etc., regardless of what I think I'm good at.

And if we give ourselves to process of being used by God to honor him and bless others, we will find the life for which we were made.

"And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to these little ones...he certainly will not lose his reward."
-Jesus.

I aspire to be a waterboy in the Kingdom.

What if Tradition...?

2011-03-04T09:46:00.001-06:00

My alma mater is within the throes of major change. What is currently known as JBC will soon be formerly known as JBC. And not just the name is changing.
I have kibitzed some online alumni discussions concerning these changes.
Most of the voices are saying one of two things: either "change is progress, progress is good, so change is good," or "change is departure from tradition, tradition is good, so change is bad."

It has become a very polarizing discussion, and I find myself sailing the doldrums along the equator.

At the North Pole you hear people declaring the virtues of progress in an ever-changing world. How can the practices that served to train preachers 150 years ago continue to be relevant in the wake of two World Wars and the invention of the iPad?
How can any institution that calls itself a "Bible College" hope for status, positive name recognition and academic influence in a world where the oldest "preacher training" school in the country (Harvard) has evolved into a beloved incubator for liberal-minded leaders both politically and theologically?
In light of this present era, we must get with the program or lose our "saltiness" altogether. That means, creating more varied degree options, adopting a new and improved PR strategy and invoking higher academic standards in order to cast a much wider net for prospective students. What the Kingdom needs is more universities in which students can prepare for whatever vocation they choose and GUI (Graduate Under the Influence) of Christianity. So expand JBC to JCU (or whatever) and watch the influence and impact we have on the Kingdom multiply.

At the South Pole, the voices are broadcasting a much different message. What the Kingdom needs an institution that will preserve a higher quality of Bible training and will focus on being great at hitting one target - training preachers - rather than striving for adequacy at hitting a variety of targets. How can the smaller churches survive and thrive without good quality preachers/leaders being slow-churned by a single-minded academic plan? Maybe, when it comes to preaching, the principles that worked 150 years ago still apply? What evidence do we have to the contrary? So keep JBC true to its founding values and watch the preachers continue to fill a need in the Kingdom that will never go away.

G.K. Chesterton wrote, "Tradition means giving votes to the most obscure of all classes, our ancestors." He was talking about democracy and tradition. Democracy being the concept that the Everyman is entitled to participate in government based simple on the virtue of being a human being. And tradition meaning that the influence of the masses shouldn't die when they do.

Applied to this discussion, the question we need to ask is, "How would past generations vote on the changes taking place at JBC?"
Or maybe the question is, "Do we really care what they thought?"

What if tradition and change are not diametrically opposed? What if a balance can be struck that "holds on the one without letting go of the other"?

We may see this very thing accomplished at JBC.
May we see it in our local churches as well.
Amen

Security Blankets and Toilet Cleaning

2011-02-23T15:04:00.001-06:00

I am insecure.

That revelation may come as a surprise to some, while others are nominating me for Most Obvious Human of the Month.

Its actually difficult to say out loud; a bit easier to type.
I don't like admitting my insecurity. Probably because I'm insecure. Don't you love a good paradox?Totally secure people would have no problem admitting insecurity, and yet no need to do so. Ugh.

But before you start in with all the sympathy cards and garish "You're OK!" Mylar balloons, I should set your minds at ease - I have a security blanket. It wasn't hand woven by my grandmother, but it is in my DNA. Something about myself that wraps me up in confidence and positivity (ahh, snuggly).

And forget it, I'm not going to tell you what it is. That's like telling children (or the wife) where I hide the chocolate.

I hide my insecurities behind this blanket and feel protected and safe...until some heartless fiend comes along and rips the blanket out of my frail, quaking hands. Left exposed, I have no recourse but to wallow in self-loathing, making "gollum" noises and fighting back the urge to repeatedly croak "my precious".

I've learned that what I need is not a security blanket that someone can take away, but a major identity make over, like a Security Heart Transplant.

Cleaning toilets helps.
I'm a lot closer to who God created me to be when scrubbing public porcelain than almost any other environment in which I contrive to be.
I'm reminded in these latex-gloves-and-chemicals moments who I am and who I am not.
I can find true, unshakable, unstealable confidence in who I am in Christ. The truth that when God looks at me, He sees me as I was created to be, with all the uniqueness of my personhood and all the righteousness of Christ.
And I can gently but firmly set aside who I am not.
I am not who others wish I could be.
I am not who I sometimes wish I was.
I am not indispensable.
I am not invisible.

I am broken - I am loved.

I'm not sure I can explain how cleaning toilets helps me remember this about myself.
You're either going to have to trust me, or try it for yourself.
I recommend the latter.

Human Circuitry

2011-02-14T00:02:00.001-06:00

"Dad, can I borrow your screwdriver?"
These words from my 6 year-old sent a nostalgic shiver down my spine.
I can recall plundering my father's workshop for tools when I was a child. A lot of
-structive happened on those days, but mostly the de- kind, not the con-.

So, with trembling voice and a great effort to stifle my imagination, I replied, "What for?"

His answer brought no comfort.

"I want to take something apart."

Some investigating revealed that the object of his disassembling scheme was his brother's coin bank. I advised against that plan of action, but not wanting to squash this venerable proclivity towards reverse engineering, I offered an olive branch - a consolation prize for his temerity. And it was a winner. We have (had) a 2-screen DVD player for the van we bought second hand and cheap. It quit working a year ago. So I gave my sons the entire system and a set of screwdrivers; I laid it all out on a table in their bedroom, said, "fix this", then closed the door and walked away.

It took them the better part of two days, but they utterly destroyed every piece of the two screens and DVD player. I walked into the room yesterday to find circuit boards and wires and diodes and LEDs scattered like casualties of some sci-fi techni-battle on planet Matrix.

It was beautiful.

The destruction complete, they abandoned the ruins and moved on to more enticing past times, watching SpongeBob, I think.

"Hey", I shouted, "get in here and put this back together!"

Mustering every ounce of six year old apathy at his disposal, my son, without taking his eyes off the tv, offered, "Dad, we wouldn't even know where to start."

He speaks for us all.

We are so good at taking things apart:
Other people's flaws, mistakes and poor choices.
The church's impotence, mismanagement and ineptitude.
Even our own failures, misplaced hopes and misguided plans.
We can take a stab at analyzing and diagnosing myriad problems with great supporting arguments and opinions.
We can point to the broken places and announce our breakthrough discoveries: "Look, you're broken!" "The church is broken!" "I am broken!"

But when it comes to putting any of this back together and letting the church and people do and be what God created them to do and be, we're 6 year-olds mucking about with Dad's tools, hopelessly in over our heads.

Thank God for God. He takes our mess and makes beautiful things.

"Behold, I am making all things new!"

Now if only I could get Him to work on the DVD player...

What if Prayer...?

2011-02-04T13:04:00.000-06:00

We live amidst a stark dichotomy of Low Expectations and High Expectations.
Consider your weekly trip to Wal-Mart.
I go in with high expectations of the lowest prices, fully stocked shelves and finding whatever it is I need, however odd or absurd. So when my favorite cereal jumps to $4 a box, there's no Jiffy Corn Bread mix on the shelf at all (this has happened twice!), and there's not a 1-1/2" to 1-1/4" sink drain reducer kit in the entire building, I become enraged to the point of declaring, "I'm never shopping here again!"

During the same visit, I maintain very low expectations regarding customer service. I do not anticipate to see a friendly face beyond the octogenarian who greets me at the door. I do not expect there to be anyone in the "Do-It-Yourself" department who has a clue what a drain pipe reducer kit is. I do not expect to find a completely vacant check-out aisle. So when I am frantically searching for the vital plumbing accessories and a smiling, helpful young man informs me that I should consider relocating my search to Lowe's, and I find a check-out lady waiting cheerfully for me to enter an empty lane, I become ecstatic and declare, "Why would I ever shop anywhere else!"

I listened to a great sermon on prayer recently that presented me with this terrifying possibility: I enter prayer with this same Low V. High Expectation silliness just about every day.

When it comes to what I want God to do for me, expectations run high. Less stress, more peace, a little more money would be nice, heal all the sick people, keep me and mine safe, and while you're at it, a little more money would be nice...did I already mention that?

But when it comes to Kingdom stuff, the kinds of things God is already doing and wants to do more of, I don't expect much at all. I fail to pray for renewal in my church family, spiritual revolution in my town, broken relationships restored, the lost being saved, and the boldness in me to be right in the middle of all this.

What if prayer less about hoping everything works out ok and more about expecting Almighty God to do great things among us?
What if God is just daring me to pray bigger?

"Come on Adam, I can keep your family safe on your road trip with my eyes closed - especially if you all buckle up and Dad drives the speed limit. Give me something hard. Give me something that will cause me to be noticed. I want to get caught being awesome, not relegated to tasks that barely require my infinite attention."

I don't know about you, but I don't often pray anything that if God answers it, people will sit up and take notice.
I don't often pray in such a way that if God answers it, my own faith and boldness will be tested.
Maybe its time I start.

History Tests and Family Vacations

2011-01-17T14:37:00.003-06:00

I have an excellent memory, and a terrible one.
I'm one of those annoying people who, in college, could spend 5 minutes looking at a list of important dates in history, then saunter into class and ace the exam.
And I'm one of those annoying people (just ask my wife) who can't recall the most basic facts about an "important" family event - who was there, where we were, etc. I often stumble into the pit of woman's wrath by describing a movie I saw at the theater only to have my wife remind me, "I remember; I was with you [idiot]" (the "idiot" is seldom spoken, often implied).

Its so frustrating at times to have such a firm grip on the type of useless info that would make me a good Jeopardy contestant, and yet draw a total blank on such important events as the births of my children and my wedding day. I've long since given up on reconciling this paradox or explaining it to my wife. I have decided instead to do my best with what I have.

Scripture memorization has always come easily to me. At summer camp as a child I was always at the top of the list in points earned for Memory Work. (At least, that's what I've been told. Of course, I can't remember.)
This is a gift I possess, I enjoy it, and I have some notion that it is glorifying to God.
So I have made a practice of committing scripture to memory for many years.

But recently I have struggled with my motivations for doing this. Am I memorizing scripture in order to "hide God's Word in my heart", or just to be able to say (like in a blog), "Hey, I can quote a lot of scripture"?
There is a bit of yin-and-yang going on inside of me, because I truly experience the blessing of having scripture readily come to mind, the right words for the right moment. Yet I continually wrestle with wanting people to know that I can do this. I get pretty prideful when I count up all the verses I can recite because I'm pretty sure that it makes me more spiritual than most other people.

"Sure, Andy Stanley can preach, but I bet he can't quote the book of Isaiah."

"Of course I think Francis Chan has some great stuff to say about living a Christian life, but ask him to recite all of Romans and see what he has to say to that."

(I can't recite Isaiah or Romans; I'm just avoiding telling you exactly what I can quote).

In my more lucid moments, I know that how much scripture I have memorized is not an item God is looking to check off some Super-Christian qualifications list. But these thoughts persist.

So should I abandon scripture memorization because it is fueling sinful pride in me, or would that be dishonoring the gift God has given me?

I guess the answer is, figure out how to use this gift with humility in a way that honors God and blesses others. I'm just not quite there yet.

Here's where my train really leaves the tracks: I think anyone, everyone, can and should memorize scripture, at least a little, on a regular basis. We don't get gold stars or Camp Team points (which get us into the lunch line first) for it anymore, but I believe we get something better. I challenge you, since you clearly had enough free time to read this blog in the first place, to devote a few minutes each day to this worthy discipline.

What if gifts...?

2010-12-17T11:15:00.004-06:00

I'm not very good at Christmas.

I'm talking about the gift-giving facet of Christmas. The whole choreography of giving and receiving, half-hearted "Thank You's" of false gratitude, thoughtless re-gifts, desperate desire to surprise or thrill with just the right selection...it all leaves me emotionally tired and deflated.

I know there's a lot of sincerity out there, even in my own home. But I have a hard time getting over the perfunctory nature of most gift swapping.

What if we were brutally honest about the whole affair?

"Why did you get me a gift?"

"Because I felt obligated. I figured you would get me one."

"Why this gift?"

"It was on sale...last year. Been in the attic for months. Thought you might not loathe it."

"Well, you shouldn't have?"

"I know. Beginning to wish I hadn't."

Gift giving in my own home is pretty non-traditional most years. In fact, I have never been able to wait until Christmas Day to present my wife with her present. Sometimes she gets it as early as November.

Once I know what I want to give her, I buy it. Then I just want her to have it. She's just as bad. I opened my gift from her last night, 8 days early.

We try to do better with our children. So far, its working, but soon enough they will get wise to our "problem". It will only take a few days of pushing, pressing, begging, and we'll likely cave in and start handing stuff out mid-December.

I know where this blog is going...and I don't like it. I'm going to start complaining about materialism and why can't we be more focused on Jesus than gifts, or why can't our gifts be more meaningful, handmade items, or why can't we focus more on the needy instead of accumulating more fodder for April's yard sales, ad infinitum et naseum.

I know this rhetoric by heart. Been preaching it for years. Problem is, I can't see a difference, in myself or others.

And the pendulum swings the other way now.

What if gifts, giving and receiving, really are important? What if this indentured practice is a vital expression of selflessness (even when faked) that we ignore throughout the rest of the year? So by the time Christmas rolls around, we are society in desperate need of something that forces us to think beyond ourselves.

What if my eagerness to lash out about the commercialization of Christmas is really just a mask for the guilt I feel at having to be reminded to be thoughtful and generous to the people around me?

Sure, it would be ideal if we didn't need to be reminded to give, but the reality, we need it badly. And if once-a-year globally enforced compulsory generosity is the only way, then God bless it!

And Merry Christmas.

What if words...?

2010-11-23T20:49:00.006-06:00

I love words. I don't know what I would do without them. My blog would be pretty dull, that's for sure. Words have always been an important part of my life. Reading has been my favorite hobby since I was 8. I love to open a new book and see all those little black bugs scurrying across the page spelling out novel ideas and captivating narratives. I also enjoy writing my own words. Being the one in charge of the order in which those bugs march down the lines gives me a feeling of creative control I find nowhere else.

Words enable me to tell you my thoughts, tell my children about God; words may even be responsible for giving my wife the chance to fall in love with me. I sent her poems.

I was studying John 1 for an upcoming lesson and was struck by the reference to Christ as "the Word".

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God."

Maybe the reason why words are so important to us lies in our nature as people created in God's image, and words are certainly important to Him.

"And the Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us."

God wrote Himself into the story of human history! What an amazing choice!

Like an author who puts himself in the novel as one of the characters (a la Kurt Vonnegut in Breakfast of Champions), God entered the world He had created. For what purpose? To what end? Curiosity?

The use of "the Word" in reference to Christ suggests that Jesus came as a direct communication from God to us. He came to show us, not just tell us, who God is, what He is like, what is important to Him, etc.

This discovery opened my eyes a little to the significance of how Jesus came.

As a baby, weak and dependant.

What if God is saying that just as baby Jesus depended on Mary and Joseph for his health and well-being, God depends on us to carry out the work of His Kingdom on Earth? Not that God can't do it without us. He didn't have to send Jesus as a baby. But He chooses to include us. He chooses to give us great responsibility in some very important work.

I can pretty easily fall into the way of thinking that says, "It doesn't matter if I screw up, or if I do a great job with what God has given me to do. He will get the work done in spite of me." But I'm not sure that's true. God entrusted the care of His Son, the Word of Himself, into a couple of poor, frail human beings. That indicates a lot of trust on His part.

If He can entrust His own Son into human hands, maybe He has entrusted me with some pretty significant tasks as well.

What will I do with this trust? I acknowledge that He hasn't left me to do kingdom work on my own, but has filled me with His Spirit, but that doesn't mean He will necessarily bail me out if I get lazy or don't take seriously the job in front of me.

What if words were God's way of communicating to us that He has invited us to do important stuff, eternal stuff, in the Kingdom? Think about the way scripture has been preserved and handed down accurately through 4000 years. Do i believe God had a hand in this process? Absolutely. But He clearly entrusted the work of this preservation into human hands. We held the integrity of God's Words in our hands. We still do as we speak those Words to others for encouragement, teaching and passing on wisdom.

Words are important. And somewhere in the grand story of both Spoken and Incarnate Word, we can read our own importance. God loves us enough to communicate to us through His Word and include us His story.

Let us use our words well.

What if Family...?

2010-11-04T10:08:00.007-05:00

I enjoy a long-standing love-hate relationship with buffets. I'm sure many of you can relate. You stand amidst several steaming rows of mouthwatering deliciousness holding a plate the size of a microwave pizza. Now you are supposed to choose. I do not have the stomach capacity to actually eat my money's worth at most buffets, so I know going into to this game that I'm not going to get to sample everything that looks good to me before I'm too full to swallow another bite. So which items of fat-filled goodness will win the battle for limited space in my belly? I want to eat the roast beef (with mashed potatoes and gravy, of course), the chicken wings, the pork loin, and the steak, but I know it will not all fit - and that's just the meat line! I still have to choose side items, bread, and pizza and somehow still have room for dessert. I'm too stressed to eat before I ever lay hands on the first serving spoon. Invariably, I end up with a little fried chicken, a little roast beef, a mashed potatoes reservoir holding a liter of gravy, and hopefully, a brownie, before I succumb to semi-conscious mechanical motions of extracting my self from my seat and getting to the car. And as I leave the restaurant I'll be thinking of all the food I didn't get to eat and what a waste of $9.95 that was.

I have a similar, though not quite as health-hazardous, experience when I pursue resources for feeding my family. Not feeding in the sense of consuming physically nourishing foods, but rather providing spiritual, emotional and psychological nutrition for my wife and children. I can go online, or to a bookstore and be assailed with the same sensation I get standing at a good buffet line. So many delicious looking options, but I can only process so much. Which do I choose? How do I know what will really move us forward in our plan to be a more Kingdom-minded family? Which are the "meat and potatoes" of family enrichment, and which are the dispensable vegetables and desserts?

These are not rhetorical questions Readers.

What if Forgiveness...?

2010-10-29T14:22:00.006-05:00

I have never been water skiing. But I tried knee boarding...once. What a miserable 90 minutes of life. Turns out I'm not very good at water sports of any kind. I went home that night sunburned and bruised. To blame my failure on anyone but myself would be an injustice. I had a good teacher. Its just that I was a poor student. In fact, it took me many repetitions of Lesson #1 before I got it down. As many people know, Lesson #1 goes like this, "When you fall, let go of the rope". A painful lesson for the slow learner.

The instinct is to view the rope as my lifeline, my connection with the boat. The boat is my refuge, its what keeps me afloat out here in the middle of this terrifying expanse of not-land. (If you haven't noticed, I'm not a big fan of water). So why would I let go of the rope? I experienced the reason why after the first fall. Holding on to the rope caused me to 1) skip across the surface of the lake like a river stone at a velocity that caused each moment of contact with the water to burn layers of skin away from my body, or 2) be pulled beneath the surface of the water where the lack of breathable oxygen provides an unhealthy environment for land creatures. (Additionally, option 2 may result in the loss of inadequately secured swim trunks - I can personally attest to this). Both results were frightening and painful. Yet I struggled to break the habit of holding on to the rope.

What if Forgiveness is letting go of the rope?

Someone causes me pain and my immediate reaction is to hurt him in return, or at least think and say hurtful things to or about him. It's my right; it's just and fair. I don't always act on this urge right away, so I hold on to the rope, the right to get even at a convenient time. This holding on seems like a privilege, my reward for enduring the pain, but in reality it turns out to be a pain in the emotional backside. Bitterness quickly moves into the neighborhood and sets up a pastry shop across the street, sending free samples of delicious looking ideas for revenge, restitution and repayment; but they are poison with chocolate icing. They eat away at my capacity to love, serve, submit - any virtue that involves focusing on others rather than myself (that probably covers all the virtues).

The rope that purports to be my lifeline in fact becomes the pathway to more pain, more heartache, more suffering.

I must learn to let go of the rope. To be set free from bitterness and anger; free to love, serve and uplift; free to have relationships with people God has put into my life for a reason.

Lesson #1 - Let go of the rope.

What if windows...?

2010-10-27T09:16:00.005-05:00

For nearly two years, I worked in a dark, windowless office. Then I won a new office in a ping-pong match (a story for another day) and today I sit with my desk facing a slab of glass large enough to ride a unicycle through. Its great. I can see a field, a couple houses on the other side of a moderately busy street; I can watch the rain fall or the wind ripping leaves away from the burnished oaks drowsy with autumn and eager for winter's nap.

I love my window. It allows me to see beyond my confined space, to experience the outside visually without having to connect with it physically. The rain doesn't soak my comfy office chair, the wind doesn't scatter the sticky notes across my desk. I am safe inside while I observe and enjoy what happens outside.

Maybe too safe.

Sometimes the action of my life bears too much resemblance to looking through a window. I rest easy in the comfort of my happy family, happy job - I even have a happy car - all the while observing a world beyond that is often unhappy. I watch the rains of heartache, suffering and need fall on "other people". I see the effects of the merciless winds of job loss, cancer diagnosis, breaking and broken families.

But I don't have to interact with this "outside world". I can remain safe and comfortable on the inner, climate-controlled, Christian bubble side of the window.

What if windows give me the false sense of my own humanity? I can see my culture wreaking havoc on the lives of real people. I observe a society driven by so many fruitless pursuits. But observing is not engaging. Seeing it does not equal living it. My window allows me to mis-interpret what it means to be "in but not of" the world in which God has placed me.

My role as a follower of Jesus cannot be lived out by looking through windows, but only by engaging with the world on the other side of that window.

In the same way, the Church was never meant to sit inside a building looking out windows thinking how nice it is to be inside, but rather, the Church is to be a mobile force of walking Beatitudes (poor in Spirit, pure in heart, merciful, salivating for righteousness, etc.) engaging in the world, feeling the same pains, and pointing to a Healer, celebrating the same victories and applauding the Life-Giver.

Right now the sun is shining outside my window. I think I'll go out and enjoy it with "other people". But I know the rain is coming. Where will I choose to be when the wind begins to howl?

What if gravity...? (remix)

2010-09-28T13:56:00.004-05:00

What is the nature of leadership?

Many prefer the simple response, "Influence".

As a leader I too like this answer. I like the idea of exerting influence over those around me. Admittedly, there's a doorway straight to megalomania in that room, but its a nice warm room and I'd like to hang out there a lot.

I think most of us enjoy at least window shopping for influence opportunities, if not going in the store and maxing out the Visa.

I like the idea that i may have something positive to contribute to the lives of those around me. To think that by spending time with me, listening to my advice, responding to my challenges, someone could become a better person, a better disciple of Jesus, lights my leadership fire like throwing a match on John Maxwell's library.

But here's the rub - we don't really know how to do it - exert positive influence, that is. We study the arts of interpreting personality profiles, conflict management, motivational speaking, time management, organizational structures, etc., etc., ad nauseum. But we continually find ourselves discontent with our level of influence.

I'm beginning to wonder if leadership doesn't function more like gravity. Why does the moon revolve around the sun? As you know from my previous post, on a scientific level, i have no idea. But i understand that it has to do with the properties of these two objects. Its is not the purpose of the earth to hold the moon in place. This happens as a by product of what the earth is. The planet does not have to try, does not have to alter its state of being in any way, to have gravitational effect on the moon. The effect exists because of the properties, size, mass, motion, etc., of the earth.

What if gravity exists between a leader and a follower? The follower is drawn in by who the leader is, not by the efforts of the intentional leader to exert influence over people. If this is true, then it means that my search for better leadership strategies, principles, methods, begin and end with my own personal discipleship. As I center my life around Jesus, remain in Him through His Word, listen to and obey His Spirit, I will naturally, as a by-product of my identity in Christ, exert positive influence everywhere I go.

This is what determines whether my influence over my children is positive or negative. They will be influenced due to their proximity to me, but if the influence is to be positive, it will be so because of who I am, not my knowledge of parenting skills or learned strategies or child-rearing.

The same is true in every environment of my life. People will be influenced either positively or negatively depending on my identity in Christ.

That simplifies matters. But as usual, simpler is harder.

I think there's much more to this gravty/leadership analogy, but I'll let it marinate for a while before throwing it on the flaming grill of reader scrutiny.

What if gravity...?

2010-09-14T08:20:00.007-05:00

While my 6 year old was discoursing on the phenomenon of weightlessness on the way to school this morning, I had some interesting thoughts.

1. Why is he so curious about gravity?

2. Why am I so incapable of explaining it to him?

3. Is gravity morally and ethically neutral?

Answer 1) I don't know.

Answer 2) I certainly don't know.

Answer 3) I don't think so.

The first two answers need no explanation, only the side note that the older I get the larger, not smaller, this category grows.

The explanation of the third answer goes like this:

Weightlessness seems like freedom from the harsh chains with which gravity binds us to this planet's surface. We have been trying to (and succeeding in) breaking these chains for centuries (or longer, if you buy that Icarus scenario). We, meaning humans, tend to see rules, even laws of nature, as categorically restrictive, and we want desperately to be unrestrained, free.

But is weightlessness the kind of freedom you really want? What can a person not bound by gravity truly accomplish in a gravitational world? Very little. In zero gravity, nothing works like it should. Physical movement becomes limited, not expanded, in that we lose control over our own bodies and the tools with which we do the work of life - artistic tools, scientific tools, engineering tools, etc. With no solid ground beneath your feet, you have no resistance to channel the energy in your foot, an appendage created for walking. The foot becomes useless, or at least superfluous. Thus your body as a whole cannot be and do what it was created to be and do. That resistance provided by a firm foundation is key to constructive motion.

When it comes to defying gravity, what at first appears to be freedom and fulfillment turns out to be more restrictive and less purposeful.

Moral and Ethical application: My readers (both of them) are smart. You will figure this out without an additional 300 keystrokes from me.

What if gravity is tightly woven into our identity and purpose as human beings?

What if morality and ethics are as well?

What if Marriage...?

2010-09-03T11:27:00.005-05:00

Gaining a new perspective can change everything.

A plethora of examples are bouncing around in my head like a herd three year-olds in one of those inflatable castles. Let me try to grab one, pull him kicking and screaming from his fun house, and set him on display:

I took advantage of an opportunity a few years ago to take a ride in a small airplane over the city where we lived. Previously, I had only viewed Fayetteville from behind the wheel of my car. This flight served me up a very different viewpoint, with a side of motion sickness (it was a very small plane).The pilot pointed out landmarks to me as we swooped and shivered around for an hour. Seeing my neighborhood, our church, our familiar routes to and from places, gave me a new perspective of the town. I suddenly understood the geography much better. I don't think i ever got lost in that area again.

I recently gained a new perspective of marriage, particularly my marriage. I had previously viewed my role in the marriage as such: Love Sara the best I can. Show Sara how much I love her through my words, actions and attitudes. So I would try hard to do this, often fail, and then try again. Sometimes I would get frustrated by my failures, by the weakness of my love. The best I could just never seemed good enough.

But something happened recently that changed my viewpoint. Shortly after Sara and I had a heated argument, God showed me something I had been missing. He showed me how much He loves Sara. He showed me how He had created her special, unique, for a purpose and with great delicacy and beauty. He reminded me that He had sent His son to die for her so that she could be redeemed, His adopted daughter forever. I began to see that God was not finished demonstrating His love for Sara. Christ's act of dying for her was not the end of God's gratuitous display. He wants to carry on, continue to pour out His love on her. And He wants to do it through me.

What if marriage is a way for God to show love to us through each other?

As this revelation dawned on me, I saw my role in the marriage in a new light. My job was not to love Sara the best I could, but to allow God to love her through me. Suddenly the pressure of generating this incredible, consistent, perfect love was gone and I was free to simply let God demonstrate His love for Sara through me. I'm just a vessel transporting a perfect love in an imperfect container. My vessel is weak and flawed, but unique, special in many ways. So God's love to Sara through me is flavored with bits of who I am, colored by the lenses through which I see her. The love conveyed remains personal, between a man and his wife, but is powered by a much stronger force than I could ever put into motion.

I thank God daily for the gift of my wife, and for this corresponding gift of His love revealed to her through me.

What if integrity...?

2010-08-27T12:31:00.004-05:00

I started a second job this week. I clean classrooms at a small private school. Basically, I'm a school janitor. I remember a few school janitors from my own academic experiences. I never recall looking at that guy and thinking, "I want to be like him someday." But as I have come to understand, it is a very important and respectable job. So I intend to represent the occupation well, including all the stereotypes I can incorporate. I plan to get a blue workman's shirt, possible pre-stained, with one of those classic ironed-on name patches. Mine will read "BOB" or "JIMMY", because that's just how it should be. I'm also looking for a giant key ring and an assortment of 50 or so useless keys to put on it. I want to jingle with every step.

I sweep and mop tile floors, vacuum carpets and wipe down every imaginable surface (including chair legs and light switches) with anti-bacterial cleaner. I listen to sermons on my MP3 player and come very near to throwing a temper tantrum every time my headphone cord gets caught on the cleaning cart ripping the ear buds and half my ear right off my head. This happens frequently.

I have strange thoughts while cleaning. I want to do a good job, but I also want to finish quickly so I can go home and go to sleep (I usually clean between 10 p.m. and midnight). I've never met the teachers who use these classrooms, but I try to imagine the appreciation they (should) feel when noticing the O.R. sterility of the rooms. I actually imagine stray trash or random crayon marks as tests for me, left intentionally by the teachers, who will check that spot the following to day to verify my diligence.

There are some items on my cleaning checklist that seem superfluous to me. I wrestle with the urge to overlook these tasks. Who will notice if the front of the cabinets doesn't get wiped down tonight? I can't even tell a difference after I clean it. How could anyone know if I didn't? Does Sherlock Holmes teach here? If so, I'm transferring my children tomorrow.

Is it really necessary to move the rolling bookshelves off the tile and mop that space every night? What could possibly get under them and make a mess that would cause a problem in less than 24 hours? Nuclear waste? I'm reconsidering the school transfer.

The fact is, no one would know if I left some minor items off the list every now and then. I would get paid the same either way.

But what if integrity is worth more than a pay check?
What if I worked, not for the praise of the teachers or my supervisor, but for the delight of the God of the Universe?
What if I actually approached this job, and every job or responsibility, "as working for the Lord and not for men"?
Would it make a difference? It would to Him.
Would anyone know or care. Only the One who truly matters.

What if integrity - doing what's right in God's sight, regardless of the consequences - really is worth it?

What if details...?

2010-08-17T08:36:00.009-05:00

"The devil is in the details," we say. What do we mean by that? Is there truth in this cliche? We're saying that if a plan is going to fall apart, the gateway by which destruction comes will be small, seemingly insignificant detail. If a bug is going to sneak in and cause illness to the Body, it will enter through an unfinished minor task, a forgotten appointment, a half-hearted effort.

I was painting in our Sr. High room a few months ago. The walls are 15 feet high, so I was using a small scaffolding set about 6 feet tall, which was not quite tall enough. There was a 12 foot ladder available but it's heavy and a pain to move around. So I opted to set a 6 foot ladder on top of the 6 foot scaffolding to attain the height needed to paint all the way to the top of the wall. (I know, I'm a genius). The scaffolding was on wheels for easy repositioning, but the wheels needed to be locked while I was on top to keep it from moving away from the wall. I painted for a while like this and was just finishing the final 4 foot span of wall. I positioned the scaffolding, locked 2 of the 4 wheels, and climbed up, leaning my ladder against the wall. Standing on the fourth step of the ladder put my head about 14 feet from the cold tile floor below; and that's when I fell. The scaffolding pushed away from the wall, causing the ladder to fall right out from under me. I immediately went horizontal and landed with what my wife (who was watching) described as a terrifying SPLAT.

Don't worry, I'm ok. No major damage.

But I was so angry with myself (not to mention how my wife felt) knowing that all I had to do to avoid that fall was follow through with the safety rules I already knew. But I allowed haste and laziness to combine in a near tragic mixture.

What if details are the source of ineffectiveness in Kingdom work?

We are good at focusing on the big event, the conference, the outreach concert. we study, pray and train for the first impression, first chance to share the Gospel or reach out to the lost. But when it comes to the post-event, second impression, third or fourth chance, our enthusiasm wanes.

What if we spent as much energy, time and preparation following up our big events with one-on-one contacts, fervent prayer and patient re-dials as we put into the event itself?

Its time for me to answer that question with action.

God recently blessed us with a great big event, a very special day with our students and their families. But it was just one day. Fruit doesn't grow and ripen in a day. This is the season of details - multiple phone calls to the same number, multiple e-mails and facebook messages, meetings at Starbuck's (O, the misery), in effort to follow up with each student, each family and meet individual needs. This is the work that leads to harvest.

What if details smooth the way for the Holy Spirit to change lives?

What if Walls...?

2010-08-10T08:43:00.003-05:00

"Something there is that doesn't love a wall" - Robert Frost, Mending Wall.

Walls divide. Walls keep out - or keep in. They separate discriminately. With walls, you are, by definition, on one side or the other. Some of the most positive moments in human history involve the breaking down of walls - whether literal ones, as in Berlin, or figurative ones, as in segregation.

But, what if walls could bring people together? This was certainly the case in the book of Nehemiah. God had a vision for His people to be united, to have a sense of their identity as His chosen ones. "I will be your God and you will be my people." This abbreviated covenant echoes throughout the entire Bible. But during Nehemiah's time, more than 100 years after the exiled Jews returned to their homeland, God's people had lost their sense of identity. They were not united; they were not set apart.

When Nehemiah came to Jerusalem and announced that the city wall, which had lain in ruins for a century, was going to be rebuilt by the hands of God's people, something changed. The Jews came together as one and "began this good work". The result was not simply a new wall, but a renewed people. They remembered who God had called them to be and how He had called them to live. And they recommitted themselves to this identity, this family. The new wall of Jerusalem became a symbol of solidarity for this restored nation.

What if we built a wall together? Not a dividing, excluding wall, but one that unites and renews us a followers of Christ? What if we remembered that we are called to be different from the world? What if we recommitted to the mission we were given, one that can only be accomplished by a united family?

What if you bring your brick and I bring mine and we work together side by side to see His Kingdom come?

What if churches...?

2010-07-27T09:08:00.004-05:00

I visited New England last week and came home with a fresh appreciation for that corner of our country as well as a renewed sense of the purpose of the Church.

From Boston Common to Portland Head Light to Newport, Rhode Island Christianity's history in New England stands in stark contrast to its current absence. In 250 brief years faith in the God of the Bible entered and exited New England in the same kind of process that required 1200 years in Europe.

Today "church" means something very different in New England than it does in the Mid-West. To those who do not attend it is a once vibrant, now dead institution, the remains of which can be seen in the skeletal stone buildings in the center of the oldest parts of town. To those rediscovering God, the church is an exciting, energy filled group of people who are passionate about loving and serving those who are far from God. To those who are a part of initiating these new groups of believers, church is a life of making disciples - a hard but very rewarding life.

In contrast, here in the "Bible Belt" church is simply what we do. Even those who do not attend have some understanding of the church as a common, even ubiquitous, social institution. while we teach and preach evangelism, hold seminars on "how to share your faith" and take our teens to "Dare to Share" conferences, we live with the assumption that everyone who wants to be in is in already. We have reinterpreted Jesus' command to make disciples as merely nurturing growth in those who already believe. In practice, we forget that before someone can become a disciple, they must believe in and accept Christ as a first step, a step many, even in the Mid-West, have not taken.

So what is my response? To preach reform of church in over-churched areas? To organize evangelistic rallies? To move to New England and join in with those who get it?

My response is to see the people around me, my neighbor, the lady who sells me coffee at Starbucks, my sons baseball coach, as people loved by God in need of a new life in Christ.

What if churches were just people who made disciples, from beginning to end, like its our job? Because it is.

What if youth leaders...?

2010-06-01T15:44:00.003-05:00

Isn't there information in life that we bite and chew and swallow, but never really digest? Such as the knowledge that driving and talking on the phone at the same time is dangerous. We know this, but instead of letting it affect our choices, we go a step beyond and actually text and drive simultaneously! And we will continue to do so until we crash. That's what it takes for some information to really sink in.

Reading recently in The Jesus I Never Knew, a classic by Phillip Yancey, i was struck with something I have always known, but never grasped. Information ever available, even well-masticated, but never digested and applied. Jesus did not build a successful ministry by choosing to work only with successful people. This finally registered with me today, because I feel like I've been trying to build a successful, student ministry by focusing on "successful" students. I had my head buried in this method almost subconsciously until i finally crashed into a wall.

I had to cancel our youth group trip to CIY MOVE conference this summer due to lack of interest.

Ouch. This is a first for me in 12 years of student ministry. I've never so badly misjudged the interest level of students that I had to cancel a trip that has been planned for many months.

I think I see a connection between the failure of this trip and the way Jesus ministered.
I have been focusing on getting popular or influential or leader-ish students to buy into a program or event believing that others would quickly follow. Jesus did not see people this way. He never looked at John as simply a means to get James involved. He simply looked at, loved, taught and led John. He did the same for James, and Bartholomew and all the rest.

I don't have this all worked out yet, but I have at least put my cell phone away and begun to focus on the road ahead. Figuratively of course - who can really put their cell phones away?

What if Life...?

2010-05-18T12:55:00.004-05:00

A recent tragedy in our community has ignited quite a fireworks display of questions within our student ministry. Questions about life, death, heaven and hell. Questions about God's love and grace juxtaposed with his righteousness and justice. Some of these questions have answers that give us hope and remind us of our purpose. Some of these questions have answers that elude us as though we're butterfly hunting with a broken net. Some of these questions seem to have no answers at all.
In the face of all this mystery and uncertainty surrounding death, how do we respond? How do we plow through the routines of daily life?
Often we hurt for a time, then shove these difficult issues into back of our mental sock drawers until tragedy strikes again.
Another response is to allow uncertainty on one issue to bleed into other issues and color our views of God, Purpose and the Future an unknowable shade of gray.
Is there another way? Can we choose a response that ultimately trusts in spite of real but limited or compartmentalized doubt?
In John 15 Jesus invites us, "Remain in me and I will remain in you." Here in the midst of this unio mystika, mystical union, we find shelter in the storm.
By simply being aware of Christ's presence and choosing to make that presence the dominate force in our decisions, thoughts and actions, we remain in Him. And his subsequent promise to remain in us changes us. he may not alter our circumstances, he may not remove the issues that we face, but He will change us, enabling us to respond to these issues with wisdom, peace and joy.
What if life was more about staying with Jesus than trying to find answers or trying to be good?
Would that take off some of the pressure? Would that set us free from fear?
What if...?

What If Answers?

2010-04-21T10:26:00.005-05:00

What if we (mankind) had it all figured out? You know, the big questions: Where did we come from? Why are we here? Why is there evil in the world?

What if answers to these questions were easy to come by? What if we could simply apply a formula, search google, take a poll, interrogate an Oracle or visit the ancient one on a Tibetan mountain?

What if it was written somewhere in black and white for all the world to see, grasp and come to consensus on? Many of us want to say, "It is written somewhere in black and white!" But not all who seek answers will read these words; not all who read will grasp them; not all who grasp will agree and believe.

Finding answers is not that simple. The search for Truth is a complicated, convoluted Gordian Knot of dead ends, false trails, and obstacles of our own invention. Does it have to be this way? Consider how the journey of life would be altered if the Answers were innate, instinctive, naturally known. Knowing our origin, would we all embrace it? Knowing our purpose, would we all live to fulfill it? Grasping Good vs. Evil, would we all choose Good?
What would happen to mystery?
Would faith have meaning?

What if the Search is just as important as the Answers?
What if the Journey is vital to enjoying the Destination?

What if Answers were left for us, but just far enough out of reach to keep us moving forward, ever reaching?

What if Truth...?

2010-04-14T13:00:00.003-05:00

What is Truth? This question posed to a large, diverse group (my facebook friends) elicited very few actual answers. There were a few stabs, one copy/pasted Webster's post.

Lots of references to John 14:6, "Jesus replied, 'I am the way, the truth and the life...'" But that doesn't really answer the question. To say,"Jesus is the truth," doesn't get us anywhere in a practical sense. And what Jesus meant by this declaration is debatable.

He also said in a prayer to the Father in John 17, "Your Word is truth." "Your word" could mean the Bible, Jesus (as in John 1), or simply the words God speaks. All of these are True. But is Truth limited to what we find in scripture or hear directly from God? Are there other ways of discerning or coming to the Truth?

Some claim, "you know it when you hear it". Still others, "I can feel when something is true."

These subjective approaches turn Truth into a Pandora's Box containing that which can save us, but also much that can destroy us.

Thinkers tell us, "Truth is that which reflects or agrees with reality". Sounds reasonable.
So what is reality? Is it subjective, relative, as many claim, or is there only one?
If there are many realities, then there are many truths.
If there is only one reality, there is one Truth.
Could there be one multi-faceted Truth? Showing a different face to different people, depending on their approach?

What if Truth is the way God sees the world? This way is not hidden from us, but neither can we see it all at once. We can stumble upon the way blindly, but we can also, by training and practice, learn to see it often, consistently. The more time spent looking at the world this way, the more easily we see the falsehood in every other way.

What if Truth is a channel, a conduit between God and us? A two-way road either can travel to connect to the other.
God reaches out to us through Truth, and we, by pursuing Truth, arrive at God.

What if Truth is a pair of glasses? We are all born with a poor vision of reality. So we try on different glasses to improve or change how we see the world. Some are tinted, some are trendy, some appear intelligent. But the one pair of glasses that shows us reality clear and unobscured is Truth.

What if...?

What if Youth Groups...

2010-03-03T15:15:00.002-06:00

I'll take the blame for the reality that my students sense a level of competition between our ministry and the youth group down the street. Its my fault. Students see the cringe of disappointment in my eyes when they say, "Sorry, I haven't been around. I've been visiting that other church." They hear the insincerity in my voice when I respond, "Hey, as long as your going to church, it doesn't matter to me where you go." I've helped build a wall that was never meant to exist.

So, let's tear it down.

How? I'm not claiming clarity on the details, but I believe we have to continual remind ourselves, our volunteers and our students to see the big picture. To spell Church with a capital "C". To stop labeling and categorizing students by which youth group they attend.

We need to work intentionally to create an environment and attitude of cooperation, teamwork and brotherhood among the leaders and students in our community.

I need to stop ranting about the para-church organizations "stealing" my student leaders and start praying for them asking how I can support their minsitries actively.

I need to meet together with area leaders and get to know them as brothers and sisters.

I need to encourage my students to participate in multi-church, cross-denominational events.

Why is this important?

Because we can accomplish more together than alone.
Because the lost teens in our community really don't care which church split from which other church, who has the most kids in small groups, or why we take communion differently than you.
Because we share a common goal, a common mission given to us by God. And we can help each other.

What if youth groups worked together to reach and serve the lost and hopeless in our community?
I'd really like to find out.

What if we're wrong?

2010-02-17T09:35:00.004-06:00

I'm a youth minister. Have been one for 12 years. I love my job. I have been hurt by it but then blessed by it a hundred times over. And I have this sinking feeling that I'm doing it wrong. That maybe we all are and have been for many years.

This concern has been smoldering in me for a while, but a recent conversation with a few dozen other youth ministers about a book recently ignited the embers. We were talking about a book by Mark Ostreicher called Youth Ministry 3.0. I don't care to go into the details, or even the over-arching message of the book. I just want to tell you why the discussion matters at all - why the book was written in the first place. The rate of students who, by all outward appearances, are following Jesus in High School and then, by all outward appearances, stop following Jesus after High School, is terrifying.

There are a lot of studies offering up a lot of statistics on this rate, but let me just say, the most positive numbers are 40 to 50% students who walk away from fatih post-high school. If that's the conservative estimate, we're doing something wrong. That much is clear.

The general consensus, and a major point of Marko's book, is that we need to develop better relationships between students and Chirst-following adults. We already know that. We talk about it. We put cleverly crafted lines about it in our "Core Values" statements. We hammer it into our volunteers.

Then we spend most of our time planning programs, organizing events, raising funds, writing sermons, evaluating curriculum, blogging, reading blogs, etc., ad nauseum.
Sure, we work in the occassional school lunch, facebook chat and ball game, but, let's face it, these are not consuming large quantities of our time.

I'm generalizing here, but you get the point.
Even Student Minsitries that develop relationships pretty well are not cracking the most difficult part of the code: Post-High School.

The answer to that is still relationships. But how? How does a youth minister with a few dozen High Schoolers to plan for, program for, preach to, stay in close relationship with every student who graduates from his ministry? And our volunteers? They are already leading small groups, coming early, staying late, attending training sessions, oh, and working 40+ hours/week at a real job. They don't have a chance adding post-High schoolers to their lists.

So, invest in young adult/college age ministries. Hire a guy for that. Develop great programs for them. and if you're fortunuate enough to be in a college town, you might do pretty well.
What about the rest of us?
What's the answer?
Does it matter?
Don't most of them come back to Christ when they enter adulthood anyway?
What's the big deal?
Let them have their college fun, sow their wild oats. They'll be all the better for the experience, right?
I don't buy that. Too risky. Too unbiblical. Disciples don't take a few years off.
Time to pray.

What if you said yes?

2010-02-01T14:15:00.002-06:00

What if Noah said yes when God asked him to build an ark? He did say yes, and the human race survived a world-wide flood.

What if Moses said yes when God sent him to say to Pharaoh "Let my people go"? Well, Moses did say yes, eventually, and became part of an event that served as the turning point for one of the most important nations in history.

What if David said yes when Goliath issued the challenge to fight? He did say yes, and the victory God won that day sealed David's place of leadership in the hearts of the Israelites.

What if Rahab?

What if Daniel?

What if Jeremiah?

What if Jesus said yes when asked to go to the cross to bear the sins of the world and redeem God's people? He did say yes. And I am eternally grateful.

We could instead be asking, "What if Noah said no?" or Moses or David, or Jesus. But that would be ignoring the beauty of what God did, has always done, through people who simply say yes.

What if you said yes to whatever opportunity God has put in front of you? We might be frightened (like Moses), we might be to small for the job (like David), but when we recall God's perfect track record and trust results to Him, saying yes opens the door to freedom and a great adventure in God's kingdom.

And who knows what life-chaning events you might witness?
God is at work.
He invites you to join Him.
What if you said yes?

What if 2010...?

2009-12-30T10:39:00.003-06:00

I already have a lot of plans for 2010. I hope to take my wife on a nice trip for our 10th anniversary in May. I am trying to organize an overseas missions trip for myself and a few friends. I'm determined to see at least one Braves game at "The Ted". (2009 was my first season not attending a game there in the history of that fine stadium.) I think this year will also include the first tent-camping experience for the Colter boys. And the list goes on...

Our ministry staff recently shared our event and program plans for the year and I was proud to have something scheduled in every month! But in my more lucid moments I understand the futility of making my plans - emphasis on "my". Sure, thinking ahead and being prepared is important. Having goals and measurable objectives for acheiving them is necessary. But taking it upon myself to determine what ought to be done and then planning to make it happen is the wrong appraoch. Good experiences might come from making my plans, but not the best ones.

The best experiences for me and those around me, come when I enslave myself to God's plans. After all, He's the only standard for "good". He's the only One who knows how plans will turn out. He has a persepctive of the big picture that is unavailable to me. I'm involved in the work of a massive jigsaw puzzle. I have a piece in my hand and a blindfold over my eyes. My only shot at making the piece I've been given fit is to let Someone who can see tell me where to put it.

What if 2010 finds me joining God's plans rather than making my own? What if I lean so heavily upon Him that I can do nothing unless He is doing it too?

Kind of an abstract concept, I know. What does this look like in real life? It looks like sutdying my calendar, praying over each "schdeduled God-moment" (as if we can make Him show up when and where we want) and being willing to cancel events, change plans or follow through. It means turning down the volume of selfish wants and prideful attempts at winning favor with people so that the voice of the Spirit stays clear and audible. It means listening - which doesn't sound like a concrete action step, but it is. And the completion of listening is obedience.

What if 2010 finds me in a daily habit of listening and obeying? It really takes all the pressure off of my plans, doesn't it? If I'm doing it because God is doing it, who is responsible for success?

What if we Celebrate God?

2009-12-18T09:37:00.004-06:00

As I prepare for a sermon on "Celebration", I'm writing this entry simply to facilitate the flow of my thoughts. Having done some research in the Old Testament regarding Celebrations commanded by God, I have come to no real conlcusions. However I'm standing at the right trail head. Conclusions may be awaiting me around the next bend.

In the Old Testament, God commanded several annual Feast and/or Celebrations, along with a monthly and a weekly Celebration (Numbers 28-29). Why? Is it really a celebration if you are only doing it out of obligation? Did the Israelites celebrate in the same sense that we think of this concept? We party. Did they party? The same word translated "celebrate" in key passages like Exodus 12 (the commnads regarding Passover) is translated in other passages as "dance". A fair picture of ancient Hebrew Celebration can be seen when King david Dances through the streets like a maniac as the Ark of the Covenant is brought to Jerusalem (2 Samuel 6). So if that's celebration, why does God command it, not once, but many times?

Based on what we know about the commands of God we do understand, celebration for a particular purpose, must reveal something about who God is and who we are. Almost all commands do this in some way. Its clear that God commanded the people to celebrate "what He has done". The Passover, was a celebration of what God did when He brought His people out of slavery in Egypt. The Feast of Tabernacles was a celebration of the what God did when He provided for the people in the desert on their way to the Promised Land. Pentecost was a celebration of what God did when He gave His law to the people through Moses. There's a pattern here. God wanted His people to celebrate what He had done. Why? Because He deserved it? Yes...and?

What does this command reveal about who we are? Celebration is tied tightly to remembering. We celebrate the 4th of July to remember. We celebrate anniversaries in remembrance. When we celebrate what God has done, we are caused to remember what He has done. Are we likely to forget? Yes! Read Judges! This history of Israel tells of a constant cylce of forgetting and remembering what God had done. They must not have been celebrating regularly!

Does the Old testament command to celebrate stand for Christians today? I don't see how we can ignore such a strong biblical principle. So, should we break out the unleavend bread for Passover? Live in a tent for a week during Feast of Tabernacles? How can we celebrate among us what God has done?

What If Christmas...

2009-12-08T14:03:00.003-06:00

My wife recently called me a "humbug". After overcoming my offense at being put in the same category with the pre-converted Scrooge, I asked myself why she would say this. Is there any truth to the accusation? Do I really rain on other peoples' Christmas Parades?

The answer: No. The characteristic that earned me this verbal abuse from wife was simply my low tolerance for Christmas music. The songs - they begin playing over grocery store PA systems as early as November 1 and continue building in frequency until by December 8th, I've heard all 473 versions of "Little Drummer Boy"...twice - the songs wear me out.

Its not that I dislike the songs. I've been known to break out into my own melodious renditions of "Joy to the World" or "Deck the Halls" in June or July. Its not the songs as much as it is the incessant playing of them, a veritable 6-week hailstorm of "O Holy Night". I don't think you can be regarded as a real musical artist until you have released a Christmas album, which must include your claim to the throne of "Best ever version of 'O Holy Night'".

What if Christmas music didn't all sound the same? What if someone introduced a non-traditional Christmas album? Well, someone did. My favorite Christmas album is Andrew Peterson's "Behold the Lamb of God". On this disc you will not find one traditional Christmas song performed vocally. The only traditional song ("O Come, O Come Emmanuel") is an instrumental track. Every other song is an original work that takes its place as a part of the grand, sweeping story of the Incarnation, beginning all the way back with Moses and the Israelites in Egypt and ending with the Resurrection of Jesus.

I love that album because it makes me really think about Christmas in context of what God has been doing since Creation and continues to do among us today. His desire is for Christ to be "incarnated" or to be present on earth, through his people every day, in every place. The church is called the Body of Christ for a reason. Its more than a metaphor. Who Jesus was and what He did while on earth - showing compassion to the sick, the outcast, the "sinnners" - should still be happening through the Church.

What if we not only celebrated the Incarnation of Jesus on Christmas, but made it our mission to live out the Incarnation of Jesus as the Church all the time?

What if Christmas wasn't seasonal, but daily?
I'll listen to Christmas songs year 'round if it means seeing the Body of Christ do His work with Excitement and Joy throughout the year.
Bring on one more rendition of 'O Holy Night"!

What if...

2009-10-13T15:06:00.002-05:00

What if...

our vision became reality.

I believe that our public schools can be a safe, encouraging environment for students and teachers, And let's go ahead and include administrators, custodians, cafeteria workers, bus drivers, coaches, volunteers, etc.

I believe there are enough Christ-following students and teachers to make a difference in the way all these people view their role in the school. And I believe we can do it without breaking any laws or getting into political trouble.

And I believe its worth doing. I plan to send my children to public school for their entire educational careers. I have a vested interest in seeing the schools become a better environment, for learning yes, but we know much more goes on at school than academics.

School defines the culture in which students live for 13 years.

I also have a passion for seeing students live out their faith. I love to see the sparks fly when they realize that through the power of Christ in them they can make a difference, they can bring about positive change.

School is teen culture. What can we do to make this culture more positive, encouraging, productive?

I think that's the real question.

So I'm asking, what can we do?

If you had unlimited resources (money, time and man-power) what could you accomplish toward seeing this vision become a reality?

What needs in the schools would you focus on?

What means and methods would you use to encourage and support?

Please share your thoughts and ideas.

2009-10-13T15:04:00.001-05:00

Testing the mobile posting app.

I Am Martha

2009-03-05T20:35:00.000-06:00

"Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things. Only one thing is needed." - Jesus.

This Week:
I spent 4 hours fretting over a new video editing software.
2 days my stomach was in knots about a potential conflict, not even an actual one.
Family finances has crossed my mind about a thousand times.
Every day frustrated when my little boys act like...little boys.
About 3 hours in the Word preparing lesson.
Maybe 1 hour in the Word to connect with God.

I pray alot, but mostly just about the stuff I'm worried about.
Not the most enjoyable or producive week I've had.
Lesson learned.
And now, to leave last week in the fast-retreating wake of a powerful grace, full steam ahead into a tomorrow in which I choose "that which is better" and refuse to let the Martha in the mirror take it from me.

Rehearsal

2009-02-28T08:14:00.000-06:00

I get this feeling every now and then - a moment's pause filled with eeriness - closely akin to deja vu. I process it like this: what I've just done or am doing is good, true and right, but its incomplete, unfinished, unfulfilled. The closest tangible experience I can relate it to is that of rehearsing for a play. All is going well. I am learning my role and getting a sense of the scope, learning to mesh with the other characters, follow stage directions and develop proper timing. But the sense of anticipation grows. Expectation builds without any known event imminent to bring closure. Is it just me being fanciful and odd, or do you ever sense the same? Please share.

The Leader Ship

2009-02-20T22:38:00.000-06:00

In the past few years I have read several books that containing detailed instances of sailing. Now, I'm no Admiral Nelson (or even a Dread Pirate Roberts) but I've become intrigued by the oft-ignored complexity of taking a ship full of people and goods from one side of the Atlantic to the other. I live in a world (and happily so) where, thanks to the Wright Brothers, we've found a better way. Yet the notion of sailing the open ocean moves me - like wind in the sails. A measure of allurement lies in the stories of fleet sailing - many ships together. The intricacies of navigating wind and storms by the stars and sun gets mutliplied quickly. Central command is established on one ship, where, presumably, the most experienced and astute captain in the fleet rules. This man determines the course of the entire fleet, relying upon the skill of not only the other captains, but of every sailor on every ship to perform his duties precisely. The Command Ship does not always sail in the lead, but always in full view of the other ships. And should the fleet be attacked, the enemy seeks to identify and destroy the Command Ship. So the role of lead Captain carries much responsibility and danger. Not a desriable role. All the more reason that polical schemes were never very potent in the making of Captains and Admirals in the days before ships sailed themselves. One had to earn the job, and even then, probably take it under compulsion. I think there are worthy principles here, which, like a good poet, I will leave to the reader to interpret and apply.

Mega What?

2009-02-14T19:20:00.000-06:00

There are none of us immune to attaching a meaning that was never intended to a particular word or phrase.

I recently attended the MegaChurch Conference - for youth ministers in churches of more than 1000 members. As a friend of mine joked, "So you only have 900 in your church? Sorry, you can't come." I know how it sounds. Dubbing anything "mega" sets it in a class above the norm, and any people attached to that "mega-whatever" seem to get elevated by association, even if only in their minds. So the MegaChurch conference must be for the elite, the "mega Youth Minister".

I am happy to say that this perception is entirely unfounded in regards to the conference I attended. In fact, I hesitate to even call it a conference. Another friend of mine would happily have called it "unconference". Not only were the youth ministers in attendance not necessarily elite, but the conference itself was anthing but "mega".

About 35 ministers and a few of their wives stayed in the same hotel, met for encouragement from a veteran in the field, then sat at table together and talked youth ministry and life for 4 days. No schedule (actually there was one, but we ignored it); no seminars other than the ones we created on the spot; no "5 new games to wow your youth group". We hashed out tough theology, youth ministry dillemas and family concerns. We encouraged each other, prayed for each other and freely admitted that none of us really know what we're doing and without God it would all fall apart tomorrow.

A great week altogether. I was reminded of the value of relationships over programs, illustrated unmistakably in the conference itself. I look forward to getting back to the relationships in my own setting, with our incredible volunteers and enjoyabe high schoolers. For these the ministry exists - in churches of 25 to a million and 25.

Robot Suits and Snow-Mania

2009-02-03T21:07:00.000-06:00

I don't really know how to build a snowman. Mom claims we did so many times when I was young growing up on the Cumberland Plateau, but I haven't managed to dredge the mechanics of snow sculpting from the murky depths of my ever-muckier memory. So instead I covered my children up to their necks in snow. Living Snow Boys! Jack Frost meets Pinnochio. I didn't know any other way to satisfy their intense desire to build something out of snow - and I deseperatley wanted to uphold the gratifying notion they cling to that "Dad can build anything!" They had a blast. Only the slightest touch of gangrene setting in, but I think its going away...jk Mom.

The next cabin-fever inspired project was building a robot. Kal was convinced that the Dad Who Can Build Anything could whip together a fully functioning metal boy out of whatever materials we had lying around the house. (He actually expected something that could walk and also reach behind the entertainment center to retrieve lost toys.) I managed to convince him that though I had watched many episodes of MacGyver, I didn't actually learn anything from them. I talked him into a robot model upon which to base future, more knowledgeable, attempts. He agreed and the result was two pretty cool cardboard robot suits, which he and Kamden wore proudly just long enough to get pictures made in, then were cast aside and completely forgotten. It took longer for me to build them than for the boys to get bored with them. C'est la vie.

Man, I love my boys! And the more I learn about how to love them well, the more I understand God's mind-blowing love for me. They can be disobedient and disrespectful all day, but when I look at them and see Sara's eyes or Sara's smile, forgiveness comes quickly. And to know that when God looks at me and the mess I make of the incredible life He's given me and sees hints of Jesus in the deep parts of me, forgiveness come quickly.

"Therefore, since we have such a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God...let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace." Hebrews 4:14,16

When I grow up...

2009-01-22T10:47:00.000-06:00

When I grow up I want to marry a beautiful woman who will treat me like a king. And when we go places guys will look at her, then look at me and wonder, "How did he get her?" And I want to treat her like a queen so she always knows that she made the right choice and never wonders if somebody else could treat her better.

When I grow up I want to be a Father - not a priest - a Daddy. I want to be the best Daddy ever. My children will be heart-stoppingly attractive. They will be smart and funny and will obey me always because they love me so much. I want to play and have fun with them, teach them about life, how to shoot a basketball, throw a curve ball, to appreciate Dickens and Lewis, and to follow Jesus with all they are. I want to discipline and correct with gentleness and love, and make sure they never doubt how proud I am of them.

When I grow up I want a great job, a job with purpose. I want to wake up each morning knowing that I'm doing something that matters, that helps people. I want to be good at it too. Always learning more about what I do and becoming more effective while not sacrificing relationships in the process. I want God to see the tool He created called Adam Colter and say, "That one works exactly like he's supposed to."

I found the beautiful woman who treats me like a king.

I got the gorgeous kids who love me and obey...most of the time.

I have the great job that has a purpose.

These dreams are not complete yet, but the unfinished parts are my fault. God has blessed me beyond all this.
"Praise the One who paid my debt and raised this life up from the dead."
Here's to growing up...slowly.
Peace

Smartest Kid In School

2009-01-18T22:15:00.000-06:00

My wife stood mortified as she listened to Kal's Pre-School explain the comments our firstborn made in class last week. She told the class they were going to play a game to see how smart they were. To which my humble child replied, "I'm the smartest one. I heard mom tell grandma on the phone that I'm the smartest kid in school." As though he were saying,"No need for a silly game, Teach. I can tell you right now who's smart. I am. And I'm smarter than you...and you...and you..."

O.k. the deal is, our kid is pretty smart. But not like genius level. He's not reading yet, like my big sis was at 4, or doing math or anything. Still, we like to encourage him by letting him know he is special to us and to God. Somehow, he has arrived at the erroneous conclusion that he's special because he's smart. Maybe our fault, but I like to blame everything on Satan when I can. I mean, that's one of the most common lies we buy into, whether at 4 or 10 or 16 or 33. The people who stand out in some way are special; everyone else is invisible.

It makes me want to tattoo Psalm 139 on my child's forearm (but that's ridiculous...it won't fit until he's at least 12). I want to impress upon him the truth that is special because God created him and knows him inside out; God loves him and sent Christ to redeem him; God has invited him into the kingdom and eagerly awaits his RSVP. I want him to know that if he ends up being a C-student, a B-team athlete, a mediocre musician or a frustrated poet (aren't we all) that he is still a child of the King (1 John 3), an heir to an inheritance "that will never persih, spoil or fade" (1 Peter 1).

Yes, I want my child to stand out. Every parent does. But I have to be honest with myself and admit that my desire to see him excel is really for me, not him. His life won't necessarily be better by getting awards or his name in the paper. It will be better by realizing that no matter how he performs, he is loved and cherished, not just by me, but by his Creator, Redeemer and Lord.

God, help me be a selfless parent.

The Monday After

2009-01-13T22:07:00.000-06:00

After 8 hours, 2 meals, a 45 minute bathroom stop and 6 riddles we arrived (with 5 minutes to spare) in Gatlinburg, TN completely unprepared for the holy thrashing our souls were about to experience. Like "sheep before the shearers", something was about to happen to us that would leave us, well, a little bare and tender, but nonetheless grateful for the trimming.

Through the power of God's word spoken, dramtized, sand art-ed and set to music, we caught a pretty clear glimpse of who God is, who we are, and how His love changes everything. We laughed, ate, succesfully navigated the tourist trap, figured out Jared Hall's illusions, wept for joy, celebrated new life, and had an overall great exerience. One of the best weekend youth trips I've ever taken. And the best day of all was...Monday. That's right, Monday.

"But wait FirstMan," you say, "we came home on Sunday. By Monday it was all over and we were sleeping through classes." Maybe some were, but Monday is the day that the fruit from the weekend's planting and watering sessions started to show up. Monday was the day one student started to see his school as a mission field and himself a missionary. Monday was the day a young lady had bold conversations about her faith with a classmate. Monday was the day a young man decided to commit to servant leadershp in the youth group. Monday was the day a new believer decided he wanted to be buried with Christ in baptism.

The same God who touched our hearts by showing up for our worship and study and relationship building in Gatlinburg Friday through Sunday was still changing lives in Newburgh on Monday. And Tuesday. And...why not eveyday? He will if we let Him. Let's go.

New Year's Revolutions

2008-12-31T20:28:00.000-06:00

I give up on resolutions. They're too passive. Are my bad habits supposed to be intimidated because "I Resolve" to make a change? Not my habits. They laugh in the face of mere resolutions; they go to your house for a few weeks and then come back in February with some new friends. So this year, no more resolutions. Instead, I'm going on the offensive. I'm making Revolutions. I am leading a revolt against any habit that hinders my freedom in Christ to be consumed by God's love for me and mine for Him, my freedom to love others the way Christ loves me, to experience true acceptance from the Father, true peace and joy, to know a purpose that makes getting out of bed each morning exciting. All that sounds real spiritual, and I'm o.k. with spiritual. The problem is, I can't lead a disciplined "spiritual life" while leading an undisciplined physical life (I believe all life in the Kigdom is spiritual life, but sometimes its easier to talk about it separately.) This means the way I take care of my body affects my ability to love God and love others. There's a whole lesson here on what it does to my view of myself when I truly believe I am loved by God, but I won't go into all that here. My purpose tonight is to attack every indulgence that makes me unhealthy, and transfer those bad habits into good ones. I'm attacking Starbucks, Dr. Pepper and television with water, exercise and telling Bible stories to my boys. Watch out laziness, here comes...Mr. um, Industrious? Still working on my battle cry. Peace and Happy New Year.

Salary Caps and Public Speaking Disasters

2008-12-23T21:19:00.000-06:00

So the Yanks signed Mark Teixeira...and A.J. Burnett...and C.C. Sabathia. That's right - the top three free agents in all of baseball signed with the same team. Why? Two reasons - money (the Yanks can pay more than any other team) and the hope of a championship (by the time they signed the top two pitchers, it was a no brainer for Teixeira to sign with such a strong team). and its not fair. it makes me very angry. my team, the Braves, could not afford the salary the Yanks are offering even one of those players, much less all three. i feel childish thinking it, much less bloggin about it, but really, its not fair. why doesn't baseball adopt a salary cap that would level the playing field for all teams? o.k., this is not a sports column, so i'm done with that topic.

I get to preach this Sunday - my first sermon in "big church" at FCC Newburgh. I'm excited. but i've had some conversations recently that are causing some concern. some of my collegues have enjoyed telling stories recently about guys who were speaking on stage and accidentally said something really bad, such as inadvertently inserting an "h" into the word "sit"...and worse. i've never done anything like that before, but the more we talk and laugh about it, the more i become afraid that it will happen to me. so i'm trying to get it off my chest and out of my mind by writing about it. hopefuly this works. otherwise, we may be operating on a 5 second censorship delay this week. pray about it.
peace

PianoForte

2008-12-19T19:47:00.000-06:00

(i don't play piano, but if i did, this is what i imagine it would feel like)

i love to feel the slight resistance of the ivory keys
beneath my pounding fingers
as i hammer out a choppy, artless strain
of my favorite beethoven piece
though the noise sends my retriever to paw pleading at the back door
and moves the great ludwig to rejoice at his soundless existence
it brings to my heart a singular and indescribable peace
i can almost hear the worn books on my shelves
applauding with their dusty covers
as i abuse the finale with tightly closed lids
and a secret half smile playing upon my lips

Teach me to Pray...

2008-12-15T18:33:00.001-06:00

We had our Sr. High Christmas party last night at "Studio Bee". there were tournaments in ping-pong, air hockey, pool, basketball, and, of course, guitar hero. Everyone seemed to have a pretty good time (except for those who got dominated by me in "Balderdash" - jk, Cindy Claypool is the master). When the pizza arrived and everyone gathered around to pray, i called on my good friend whom i have met twice, Logan Swango, to ask the blessing for our food. Logan has a speech impediment - he stutters. I know this, everyone knows this. no one is bothered by it, least of all Logan. such is his personality. i knew his prayer would be different, but i wasn't prepared for my own reaction. Logan said all of about 10 words. it took about a minute and a half for him to get them out. while he was praying it struck me that i could have said ten times as many words in that amount of time. but does that make me a more effective pray-er? nope. probably just the opposite. the words roll of my tongue all too quickly, with not near enough thought, intention, focus and purpose. What if i paced my prayers at 1 word every 10 seconds? would it help me think about what i was saying and to Whom i was saying it? probably. so now i have a goal for the week. the logan experiment. i will try to pray at logan speed. i'm looking forward to a positive change in my prayer life. thanks logan, for teaching me to pray slowly.

Bewildered and Beaming

2008-12-08T20:09:00.000-06:00

Our church is presenting a Christmas musical this weekend...along with about 17 million other churches. And along with 17 million other lucky guys, i get to be Joseph. It was a last minute decision by the director to try to get the new staff member some "face time" in front of the congregation. But I'm thrilled. I have no lines, and only a few facial expression changes. i have to practice my oh-no-my-fiance-is-pregnant-with-the-son-of-God look, and my what-do-you-mean-there's-no-room-in-the-in look. The rest of the time i do what i call the bewildered-and-beaming look, which comes pretty naturally to me. Did Joseph understand what was going on? No way! Did he like it? I doubt it. But somewhere in the midst of that confusion, he trusted God and he trusted Mary. And i think he was pretty excited about the whole thing (when he wasn't looking for a barn for his wife to give birth in or fleeing to Egypt for his life). So that's my artistic interpretation of Joseph and i bring it to the stage with all the bewilderment i can muster - which is prodigious. You go, Joseph. and peace to all

Book Joy

2008-12-04T20:59:00.001-06:00

A tag-line ad for a fancy journal/photo album thingy: "The best day of your life is the one on which you realize that your life is your own." Hmmm, really? I would like to insert the word "not" into a very strategic location in that sentence.
In other news, I enjoyed a nice evening out with my wife tonight. We spent most of our time in bookstores - me looking at books and Sara looking at me looking at books. Sara's not what you would call a voracious reader. I don't really know why she enjoys bookstores so much, but it is usually her idea to go and browse. I never argue. I get very excited about seeing new books from familiar authors or finding classics on sale. She reflects all that energy right back at me like the moon reflects the sun. I know she doesn't really understand, much less share, my passion for books, but she finds a way to share my joy. Its not manufactured enthusiasm on her part - its real, genuine. For those who haven't figured it out yet, that's love - to enjoy what I enjoy, simply because I enjoy it. My happiness makes her happy. To see that in her still after 8 years of marriage blows me away, reminding how lucky (blessed) I am to have found her. There's a spiritual principle here that I will leave the reader to discover. Hint: Something about the love between us and God...
Peace to all

Transplant

2008-12-01T20:57:00.000-06:00

Today, for the first time, I really struggled with the cold weather. Go ahead, call me a weenie, I don't care. I hate being cold. And it doesn't seem to matter how I dress. If the mercury falls below 40, I'm going to be cold in a genuine Eskimo- whale blubber- elk fur- parka. So I've begun to wonder why my loving, benevolent Father would transplant a cold hating winter weenie like me to a place where it snows in November. I mean, doesn't He realize I don't function well in the cold? Isn't He worried that I might not be as effective in ministry if I shiver through my lessons? It clearly doesn't take long thinking this way to realize what a self-absorbed self-preservationist I am. Why did God transplant me to a cold(er) part of the country? Same reason He sent Moses to Pharaoh, Paul to Ephesus, Jim Elliot to South America (then his wife and children after he died). Because its not about me! It never has been, never will be. God works through us to bring His kingdom to earth in more real and tangible ways every day, to the glory of His worthy name. My name doesn't even enter the conversation, much less my particular weather preferences. If God's kingdom would benefit by my moving to Siberia, I hope I would have the faith in Him and the proper view of myself to go. But I hope He let's me stay here. And let the cold be my reminder 6 months out of the year that God's kindom is bigger than me. Praise the God of sunshine and snow! peace

deep texts

2008-11-29T22:35:00.000-06:00

I have received some questions via text messaging lately that have surprised me - not solely due to the content or nature of the questions, but because these questions were asked using this particular medium. "Do you believe only Christians go to heaven?" "Why did Jesus have to die?" "Who created God?" "Do you support gay marriage?" I am perfectly willing to discuss these questions, or preferably the motives behind them, with anyone who asks, but by text? I'd rather not. First of all, i'm a slow texter - and by slow i mean most people i know could text the book of Isaiah in the time it takes me to punch out "could u just call me?" But another reason i prefer not to address questions like this by text is because texting is just about the least human way to communicate. We can't see each other. we can't hear each other. all we get is some badly spelled words on a screen. i can't gauge the reactions of my interlocuter, read their expressions, perceive their mood, nothing. it's a great way to say "i'll be home by 4", but a terrible way to hold a real discussion. that being said, in the spirit of true double standards, i have unlimited texting on my cell package, so feel free to misspell words my way anytime. peace

prologue

2008-11-21T13:59:00.000-06:00

I have nothing to say. No veiled attempt at wit here. No subtle message of false humility. There has already been published a WORD that encompasses all that need be said on the subject of life. The rest is just commentary. And much of that commentary, by the likes of C.S. Lewis, G.K. Chesterton, Thomas a Kempis, Deitrich Bonhoeffer, and Dallas Willard (my favorites) far exceeds in clarity, insight and wisdom, anything I have to contribute. The reality remains - I have nothing to say. The juxtaposition of that reality also remains - I feel a strong desire to say something. I enjoy the simple act of writing, even if no one is reading. Thus firstmancolter.blogspot.com. Check it weekly - dismiss it freely - dispense it wisely. And peace be unto all who venture here...and beyond.