Connecting with Brian McLaren in Chicago

When I look back at my spiritual journey; which really began in earnest 31 years ago, there are a many incredible people who have made a big impact on me. The first was David Blanton, the Baptist campus pastor at George Mason University, where I went to school.

David mentored me, taught me, and modeled faith in God and a life of loving and serving others. I saw Jesus in him, and much of the good in me came from the foundation David helped build in me.

Mike Bradley took the baton and led me as I pursued youth ministry (along with Jay Wolf, Jim Witt, Cecil Frazier and Ray Bearden at First Baptist Church of Alexandria, VA).

In my ten years in Fort Worth, Texas, Harold Bullock, John Hawkins, Phil Herrington, Mike Poff and Randy Boyts became my mentors.

When I moved back to Virginia in 2002, Rusty Coram encouraged and challenged me as I continued in ministry, and as I moved toward marriage and fatherhood.

There have also been a few people who had great influence through their writing and speaking. The first was Brennan Manning. Brennan’s book The Ragamuffin Gospel opened my eyes to a new way of seeing God—as a God who loves me unconditionally.

Rich Mullins had a similar influence through his music and writing. His incredible desire to be completely selfless (and his honest struggle in that effort) challenged and guided me. His music held me and strengthened me when I was at my worst.

Over the last twelve years, the man that has had the biggest impact on me is Brian McLaren. I first met Brian when I was a brand new student at Leland Seminary in 2002.

I was returning to seminary after a six-year hiatus (a story for another time), and was excited be at Leland, a small, innovative new seminary outside Washington DC. Leland held a retreat for all students and faculty at the beginning of the year, and Brian was the retreat speaker.

Brian amazed me by articulating many of the questions and struggles I had been dealing with in recent years. He helped me see God and faith and the Bible in new ways, ways that felt more honest and real.

I began reading Brian’s books—one of them was about his friendship with a young woman and her reluctant journey toward faith in Christ. I soon found out that young woman was one of my classmates at Leland, and she became one of my best friends.

Brian and I crossed paths every few years. I went to several Conferences and workshops where Brian spoke, and though I doubt he always remembered me, he always greeted me like a brother.

I was working for a church network in Northern Virginia, and we brought him in to be the speaker at our annual meeting (which created a little controversy, as Brian was becoming more controversial in evangelical circles).

I remember running into Brian at a friend’s church one Sunday (we both just happened to be worshiping there) and having a wonderful conversation with him.

All during those years I read his books as he wrote them, and continued to be challenged and encouraged. All of his books, especially the New Kind of Christian trilogy, A Generous Orthodoxy, and A New Kind of Christianity, nourished my soul and helped me in this internal battle to hold onto faith.

I am in a challenging time right now, beginning work in a new field, feeling inadequate as I try to learn all I need to in order to succeed. I also miss being involved in ministry. I have had some ideas circling in my head for a while now, but haven’t moved from idea to action.

This week I went to Chicago for a training program with my new job. I keep up with Brian on Facebook, and knew he was on a book tour. He had been in Seattle a few weeks earlier, but my schedule didn't allow me to go down and see him.

On Wednesday I saw a notice on Facebook that Brian would be in Chicago on Thursday evening. It was nice weather, and a 1.5 mile walk to the church, so I went to see Brian. He seemed to recognize me, and when I reminded him of our past connections and common friends his face lit up and we had a nice conversation.

He read from his new book, The Great Spiritual Migration, and my soul was nourished. I sensed God’s spirit challenging me to step out and put into action some of the ideas I’ve had about really being a pastor in my family, and moving into the lives of our neighbors.

I’m not in a ministry job, but I think the opportunities for ministry have never been greater. I am eager to read Brian’s new book and try to live out some of the principals he presents in my family and other relationships.

This post was originally going to be about seeing Brian, but as I write, I realize it's about how God has reached into my life, using people like Brian, and many others, to love, encourage and use me for His Kingdom. I am grateful, and excited for what is next.

 

Bruce Springsteen Live, Take #1

A few months ago Brady and I saw Bruce Springsteen in concert. It was my 12th time seeing Bruce in concert. The first was in November, 1984, in Denver. 32 years ago.

My most frequent Springsteen date has been Kenny Budd, my college roommate. We've seen Bruce together five times--twice in Washington DC, also in Fairfax, VA; Richmond, VA, and Greensboro, NC.

Each Springsteen concert has been an event. I mean an Event. Big. Amazing. Memorable. If you've never seen him in concert, you can't fully get it. He puts on the most amazing live show, hands down. In the early days, marathon four-hour shows. Now, 30 years later, he still plays for 3 1/2 hours.

I've been to probably a hundred concerts. Most of the time, you leave wishing the performer would come back out for one more encore. Not so with Bruce. He wears you out. By the time he leaves the stage, you're ready to go home as well.

The first time I saw Bruce he was 34; this time, he was 66. That's hard to believe.

Here is a clip of Bruce singing "Meet Me in the City," the song that he opened with.

Bruce's music has been the soundtrack of my life. I've been looking back at some of those concerts, thinking about where I was in life, realizing that each time I saw him, I was a different person, in a different place in life. I thought it would be fun to reach back and dig into those memories, so here goes...

Concert #1. November 11, 1984, McNichols Arena, Denver, Colorado.

My friend Jeff introduced me to Springsteen's music in high school. A year after graduating, I was 19, a private in the Army stationed at Ft. Carson, outside Colorado Springs. I was living a pretty wild, reckless life.

Mark and Gary were two good friends in my company. Mark was from California, very laid back and cool; he rode a sweet motorcycle. Gary was bright and friendly, but came across as kind of a stoner. Great guys.

We spent a lot of time together in the summer of 1984. Gary had a jeep; we'd take the top off and ride around Colorado Springs, hanging out at the lake, playing frisbee, drinking beer and watching girls.

It was a good time to be in the Army--it was peacetime, and I had a pretty easy job--personnel clerk in the battalion headquarters of a maintenance battalion (mechanics).

As a young single guy with a lot of freedom and little responsibility, life was pretty much one long party.

Months before the concert, when we heard tickets were going on sale, we decided to go to a record shop downtown and get tickets. One of the guys said we'd better go early, maybe even camp out the night before, to get in line.

So at about 2 AM, Gary and I decided to go downtown to the record store where tickets for the Springsteen show were going to be sold. There were already dozens of people in line. We got in line and talked and laughed with a bunch of other people, mostly about our age, some a little older.

At 10 AM, the store opened, and the line began to move. It probably took us about 20 minutes to get to the ticket window, and I bought 2 tickets.

As the concert drew closer, I started thinking about finding a date. I wasn't dating anyone regularly, but I'd met a pretty girl in our battalion named Kathy, and talked with her a few times.

A week or two before the concert, I asked if she'd like to go with me. She said yes.

On the day of the concert I called her, and got no answer. I went to her barracks, she wasn't there. I got stood up. I asked my roommate Mike if he'd like to go, he said sure.

Mike had a Trans-Am; really sweet; he drove us up to Denver.

It's been more than 30 years, but I can still close my eyes and see and hear and feel the beginning of that concert. After an hour of the typical pre-concert buzz, the lights went out. People began to yell and cheer.

Then we heard Bruce yelling, "One, two....One, two, three, four..."

Suddenly the stage exploded with bright light, revealing a huge American Flag. At the same instant, the drums and keyboards blasted the opening of "Born in the USA."

I listen to that song on Springsteen's Live 1975-1985 album, and I'm always carried back to that concert. I still get chills.

I was already a Springsteen fan, but on that night, for four hours, I was taken to another world. It was indescribable--the power, the energy, the unity that 20,000 people experienced at that concert. We sang, danced, clapped, yelled and lived a lifetime in the characters and experiences and themes in Bruce's songs.

I was young, and just starting to experience life, and ask questions about who I was and where I was going--questions that Bruce explored a lot in his early music.

I was on a natural high for those four hours, and for a couple days afterward.

There are events from my life--many from years ago, and some even from a few weeks ago--where my memory fails me. And to be honest, I don't remember a lot of the details of that concert. But I remember the music, and the feelings that the music created. And I've been fortunate to experience those feelings again and again over the years.

Each of the concerts has been different, and I've been different at each one; but they always take me back to that first one.

Next up--one concert postponed by snowstorm, and celebrating with Bruce on his 36th birthday.

Best Day with Bruce and Brady

I've written before about what I call best days--experiences filled with joy, adventure, something new; days that make me feel alive and fulfilled.

Last Thursday was one of those days. I took Brady to see Bruce Springsteen in concert. It was my 12th time seeing him; Brady's first. What an event for his first concert ever!

He is still young enough to let me control the music most of the time, and over the years has really enjoyed listening to Bruce. When the tour was first announced, I was bummed that it wasn't coming to the Pacific Northwest.

But a few weeks into the tour, they announced new cities--including Seattle. I was on the phone and computer when tickets went on sale, and got a couple decent seats.

Brady and I listened to a lot of Bruce in the weeks leading up to the show, so he would know the music. He loves to sing along.

Finally, the day came. If I had drawn up how I hoped the concert would go, I couldn't have done any better than the actual event.

We got to Seattle in plenty of time, and while it took a while to find a place to park, we found a spot in a neighborhood, so didn't need to pay. It was a bit of a hike, but downhill all the way.

We went to the food court at Seattle Center for dinner, then walked over to Key Arena. We got to our seats and watched the arena fill up.

At 8:10 the band came out, followed by Bruce, and he began what was an almost four-hour show. It is hard to put into words how amazing it was.

I've seen Bruce 12 times, and I've never seen him better. His energy was unbelievable. At 66, he could easily play for 2 hours and be done, and no one would complain. But he continues to give everything he has. What he does, night after night, is almost superhuman.

Bruce opened with "Meet Me in the City", then played the 20-song River album from 1980. It is an incredible album with many classic Springsteen rockers, including "Hungry Heart," "Cadillac Ranch," "Ramrod" and the title track. After playing the album, Bruce then did another 14 songs, all fan favorites, mostly from the 70's and 80's.

He played all the songs Brady really wanted to hear--"Badlands," "She's the One," "Dancing in the Dark," "Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out," and, of course, "Born to Run." There was a touching tribute to the Big Man, Clarence Clemons, during "Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out" (Clemons, Springsteen's sax player for decades, died in 2011).

It was a magical night. I have never felt more energized, more inspired, more fully alive than I have at Springsteen shows; 12 times over the last 32 years. Each one has been amazing--and after that many years and shows, Bruce's music has become the soundtrack of my life.

Each song takes me back to a different time and place in my life (I'm going to write a series of posts on the times I've seen him live).

I've probably seen close to 100 concerts, and nothing compares to a Springsteen show. I think this one was the best of all.

The show started at 8:10; about the time Brady is usually getting ready for bed, and lasted till midnight. For almost four hours, Brady and I sang and danced and laughed. 

I loved watching Brady jump up and clap and yell and dance to his favorite songs. Joy is even better when it is shared, and it was so wonderful sharing that joy with Brady.

Love Through Discipline

Beautiful moment tonight with Brady. Brady's favorite game is Clash of Clans. We don't allow him to play the violent video games that some of his friends do, and he struggles with that. He understands why we don't, but it is hard when his friends talk about games that he is not allowed to play. It's always hard when it feels like you don't quite fit in.

But he loves Clash of Clans, and plays it every day. Today he got into some trouble with the game--not for being deliberately disobedient, but for making some choices without thinking. We've told him not to share ANY personal information with others he plays online with, and today, he did that--nothing specific or revealing, just a little about himself.

Because that's a safety issue, Jamie and I are pretty strict. We decided that Brady was going to lose his game privilege for a few days (and that if he ever shares personal information again, he'll lose it permanently).

I sat down to explain to Brady what we were doing and why. I was prepared for the tears and anger that sometimes come with his consequences, but Brady listened calmly. I could tell he was upset, but he didn't lose composure. He understood. He knew that we were disciplining in love, not out of a desire to make him miserable (of which he sometimes accuses me when he's really upset).

I was so proud of how he accepted his consequence; even though he was upset. He asked me a few questions, and we moved on to reading time. Usually at bedtime I read to the boys, but tonight, I asked if Brady wanted to read to me from his current book, Where the Red Fern Grows.

He read to me--beautifully, with feeling and power and innocence--a story I have read probably 20 times myself.

After Brady read we prayed, and I told him I have never loved him more, or been more proud of him than I am tonight. I could see the joy and pride in his face, and as I type this, I imagine those same words from God to me tonight...."I have never loved you more, or been more proud of you, than I am now."

The beautiful, endless grace of God.

The Religious Liberty Fight

I am surprised we are still reading about Christians arguing that not allowing them to discriminate is restricting their "religious liberty." I am disappointed and embarrassed by Christian business owners fighting for the right to refuse service to people they don't agree with. Now we have several states trying to pass laws that allow businesses to discriminate under the guise of "religious liberty."

Saying it violates your religious liberty to serve someone with whom you don't agree with is ridiculous. How is your religious liberty violated by making a cake for someone who is gay? No one is asking you to be gay. No one is saying you have to agree with the gay people you are doing business with. No one is saying when you make this cake you must profess your support for gay people. It's a cake! It's not a religious statement--but it could be, in a very different way.

If you are a follower of Christ, you violate the principles of your faith when you refuse to serve someone. Jesus never said separate from the world and only interact with those who are like-minded. Jesus said over and over to love your enemy, feed the hungry, heal the sick, give your shirt, walk a mile with someone...serve your fellow man.

It is sad that many would rather turn their back on someone, because they don't agree with them, than take the opportunity to bless someone's life.

If the goal is to point people to Jesus (and if you call yourself an evangelical Christian, it should be); than which accomplishes this better:

1. Refusing to serve someone because you think they are wrong, or...

2. Moving into someone's world and providing them exceptional service, or selling them a top-quality product, or serving them with kindness--showing them that Christians love people and do things with excellence and want to love and serve and invest in the lives of all people?

Seems pretty clear to me.

Ashley and Our Big Decision--Four Years Later

Last week I turned 50. Unbelievable, bizarre, surreal...my mind has been swirling with memories, thoughts, feelings, questions, what-if's, questions and hopes. I'm feeling a stronger sense of urgency to try and do some things.

And I'm feeling even more the pull to write, so for probably the 37th time, I'm going to try to get back into blogging regularly.

I've got 50 years worth of stories now, and I want to write more, especially for my children.

Of everything I have done, and have in the world, nothing compares to my family. Jamie and I have been married for 11 1/2 years now, and we are still working to figure out how to grow and improve our marriage. We've had our struggles, but I love her, and appreciate her, and enjoy the life we are building together.

The biggest blessing in my life is our three children. Because of the age difference, I get to experience very different relationships with them. Ashley is 19, and just finished her first year of college. She was younger than Cash is now (7), when she first came into my life.

I loved being her second dad, and experiencing all the wonders of growing up with her. I am often baffled at how fast the time went--how 4500 days could have come and gone, almost like a blur.

She has turned out to be a wonderful, brilliant, fun, faithful young lady. She is easy to love and enjoy. We have a great, easy, honest relationship. We communicate well and I love being around her.

She doesn't really need (or want) too much parenting anymore. She's a grown-up. In six months she'll be 20. TWENTY. An age without a "teen" at the end.

In August she'll get on a plane, without Jamie or me, and go to the other side of the world. Spain. "It's this whole other country." (name the movie reference?)

That's pretty grown up.

But she's been pretty grown up in some ways for a long time. Four years ago our family was at a crossroads. I had been substitute teaching and umpiring baseball for two years, looking for full-time work. I applied to dozens of places in Virginia, and had flown out to Washington twice on job hunting expeditions.

Finally, in March of 2011, a great opportunity came along. I interviewed and was offered a job to teach English in a private school in Virginia. We were thrilled and relieved. But I had already planned a trip to Washington and had a few interviews lined up, so I went through with it.

We had been talking about moving to Washington for years. I fell in love with it when we came out to visit several times. Jamie didn't really wanted to move back when I first brought it up, but she came around over the years.

By 2011, she had done a complete turnaround and was almost desperate to move back home to Washington. Her best friend died a few years earlier, and she longed to get back to her family and friends here.

I came out in April that year and interviewed at Logos. Things went well, and I went home to Virginia with job offers in Washington and Virginia.

I loved Washington, and felt a pull to be there; but wasn't eager to leave my family and friends. I had left before--spent ten years in Texas--and had been back in Virginia for nine years. I loved life in Virginia with Jamie and our kids, our first house, our neighborhood with a lake, being close to Mom and Jerry, my friends, season tickets to GMU basketball, and umpiring high school baseball.

And I was excited about getting back into teaching full-time. Teaching in Texas was the best job I ever had. I loved being part of a small faculty, investing in the lives of kids, talking about books and writing every day.

So I was torn; not sure which job to take. Jamie and I talked and talked about how moving would affect our family, especially Ashley, who was finishing her freshman year of high school.

Ashley loved her school, and her soccer team, and after three years of home-schooling, had jumped into big high-school life with great success.

After many conversations, prayers, back-and-forth's and what-if's, we finally felt like we had made a decision. We would stay in Virginia, let Ashley finish high school, then look at moving to Washington again in three years.

Jamie and I sat down with Ashley for one more conversation to go over the decision. We told her what we were thinking. We all talked about the decision, then Ashley said what she'd been thinking.

"I love it here, and I'd love to stay here. But I know how much Mom wants to go to Washington, so I think that's what we should do."

I think at that point the back and forth was over for all of us. We were going to Washington.

I'm still amazed at how thoughtful and selfless Ashley was in that decision. She left her friends, her school, her soccer team; and started over as the new kid in a new school on the other side of the country.

I know it wasn't easy, but she did great. She won lots of academic awards, played soccer, jumped into the youth group at our new church, led worship, worked at kids camps, and made the most of her high school years.

And now she's flourishing in college at UP. She's home for the summer before going to Spain for a semester in August, so I'm going to enjoy as much time with her as I can.

Courage or Cowardice

I've read Facebook comments and blog posts (Matt Walsh comes to mind) that say that Christians who stand up for Gay rights, or marriage equality, or other "liberal" causes are not courageous, but cowardly.

They say that people move toward more open/liberal perspectives because they don't want to go against culture, they want to be accepted, and they don't have the guts to stand up for what is right. They say people are afraid of the persecution that comes with "standing firm for God against culture."

Crap. Total crap.

Over the last 12 years my theology and politics have moved from very far right to pretty far left. Brian McLaren's A New Kind of Christian had a huge impact on me. It wasn't that his book, and others like it (works by Doug Pagitt, Rob Bell, Pete Rollins) changed my mind--they helped give words and language to the thoughts and questions that were already swirling in my head.

The rigid religion and selectively literal view of the Bible I had grown up with didn't feel right, or authentic, or honest. Brian McLaren (in his books and a few conversations) helped me see my questions and doubts weren't a sign of unfaithfulness, but honest wrestling with God.

Pete Rollins helped me expand my view of God far beyond the tiny, easily manipulated God of the religious right...

Sidebar--Every once in a while you see stuff like this on facebook:

Child: "Dear God, why didn't you save the children at (insert any school shooting)?"

God: "I'm not allowed in schools."

Really? The God of the universe is unable to act because people have removed him from schools? We have that kind of power over God?
Not the God I seek.

OK, back to my topic...

I'm now at a point where some of my beliefs are at odds with conservative evangelical Christianity (marriage equality, homosexuality, hell, war, immigration, death penalty...)

To those who think I (and others) give in to culture on issues like these--realize this: I did not change because it was easier to agree with culture. Just the opposite, it has been incredibly hard to be open and honest about these changes, because this has created differences with people in the culture that I have always been a part of, and where most of my most precious relationships are--the Church.

I don't care what people in the culture at large think of me. I do care what my former pastors, and mentors, and partners in ministry think of me. I hate that some of them are disappointed in me because they think I have "left the faith," or fallen into "false theology."

I have lost opportunities, and at least one job, because I was honest about my open/liberal/progressive beliefs.

I'm not saying I'm courageous--I wish I had the courage to speak out more, and take action for the things I believe (like people such as Jill McCrory, my graduation partner at Leland).

But I certainly don't support my gay friends, and immigrants, and argue against war and the death penalty, and question eternal hell, because that's the easy way. It's not.  I do it because my relationship with God tells me I must be honest about the beliefs and stances that make sense to my understanding of God and His character.

Christmas 2014

It's been a great Christmas season and new year; some highlights...

Spent a fun and tiring Saturday with my father-in-law putting up Christmas lights. I've always been kind of lazy with this; never had a big desire to put up a lot of lights, just to take them down a few weeks later.

But the boys are always asking for us to do more. I realized it was a pretty big deal for them, and Jamie did a great job finding some good deals and adding to the few lights we already had (from Uncle Chad!)

So a few weeks before Christmas Lyle came over and helped me put lights up at our house; then we went to his house and put up lights there.

It was a great day spent with him and decorating our house. The boys were really excited, and it made me feel great to see how proud they were of how our home looked.

Ashley came home after her first semester at the University of Portland, but was only here for a few days before going to Virginia to spend Christmas with her dad and her family there. We're happy for her, but we miss her!

Ashley had a fantastic first semester of college. She took some hard classes--Biology, Chemistry, Philosophy, Theology, Spanish...and still made all As and Bs. We're so proud of her!

The week before Christmas we went to Chad and Linde's, where Jamie's sisters, all our families, and the grandparents all gathered for a big dinner and gift exchange. It was a fun evening, especially watching the kids open their gifts.

Christmas day was fun--we skyped with my parents so they could watch the boys open presents. We had a great day.

Grandma Vicki took the boys New Years' Eve; Jamie and I had a date in--got takeout from the Train Wreck and watched a couple movies; fun evening.

Work is going well, Ashley and the boys are doing great, Seahawks keep winning. The only down side is Ashley goes back to school tomorrow (but we'll see her soon.)

Life is good!

John Hawkins--Humble Leadership

Earlier in the year I began writing about people who have influenced my life.

John Hawkins was a big one. John is the President and CEO of Leadership Edge, Inc. His book Leadership as a Lifestyle is fantastic.

I met John when I moved to Fort Worth in 1992. I was starting seminary, and sought men who could mentor and teach me. John was on staff at Hope Church, doing campus ministry at TCU.

John and I hit it off right away--he was incredibly kind and friendly, always interested in what was going on with me. We often met for lunch or coffee, and he and his wife Janet invited me to wonderful dinners with their family. John is one of the most humble people I've ever known.

We talked about God and ministry and being a man. John would ask thought-provoking questions, and give me nuggets of wisdom to think about it.

The best of his statements always started with, "you see, Todd, the thing about it is..."

The "thing" was always something important for me to think about or work on in my life.

When John started Leadership Edge in 1993, he asked me to do some part-time administrative work for him. Now that I think about it, I was probably LEI's first employee--what an honor!

John had an office set up in a small building in his backyard, and I would go over there two or three days a week to put together mailings, organize John's messages and writings, file, etc.

On our first day, John gave me a little talk before we started:

"Todd, when we get together, we always have great talks, and I enjoy those times. But when we're here, working, we need to focus on the job, not our friendship."

The next time I came over to work, John came into the office. It was pretty early.
John asked if I had had a quiet time yet that morning. I hadn't.

"Let's spend a little time with God before we start working," he said.

We spent the next hour praying, reading Scripture and talking. The administrative work took a back seat.

That's who John is, putting people first--loving, teaching, encouraging, challenging.

Hard to believe that was over twenty years ago. John and I still talk on the phone every couple years, and the wisdom and guidance he gave me in our short time together made a big impact on me as a man, a husband, a father and a friend.

I love you, Brother!

John and his wonderful wife Janet

New Name for Blog

I started blogging about 8 years ago. At the time, I was 41, and chose the name 40-Something Teenager; reflecting the fact that even though I was in my 40s, I still felt like a teenager in many ways.

In five months, however, I will turn 50. I won't be a 40-something anymore. I spent way too much time brainstorming and searching for a new name, and finally gave up trying to be creative. Hence the new name.

2014 has been a great year--fun, adventurous, exhausting, challenging. I am doing some thinking and praying about how to keep going with what is good, and what changes I need to make to deal with challenges and struggles.

Hopefully a new name and some changes in my schedule and priorities will lead to more writing in the coming year.

If you are reading this, it means you are one of the few who stick around, probably hoping I'll say something worth reading again. I'll try!

End of Fall Sports Season

Last Saturday was the last day of Brady's football season and Cash's soccer season. Both boys had great seasons.

Cash led his soccer team in scoring and was a real leader on the field. I was really proud of how he tried to include teammates. There were many times where he could have scored goals, but instead looked for opportunities to pass the ball and give his teammates a chance to score.

Cash always worked hard in practice, and gave 100%. He is a natural athlete and makes it look easy, but he always did his very best. He has fun playing, which makes it fun to watch him.

Brady finished his second year of football and was also a leader on his team. He was one of the smaller players, but played like a big man. He led his team with 9 touchdowns in 9 games, including 3 in the final game, a playoff game they lost 26-18. Yep, Brady did all their scoring in that game.

He played running back, defensive back, kicker, and kick returner. The only time he ever came off the field was when a game was out of reach and he came out to give younger players time on the field.

At the beginning of the season I told Brady he wouldn't be one of the biggest guys, but he could be the guy who works hardest. That's who Brady became. When the team ran laps, and some players would slack or cut their laps short, Brady always went all out, and tried to finish first.

It was obvious how his coaches appreciated and respected Brady's work ethic and leadership.

Thinking about the boys playing their sports, I can't help but remember how much I love to watch Ashley play soccer. That was a big part of our lives for many years. She was so fun to watch and cheer for. As she recovers from her ACL surgery earlier this year, I hope she'll get back into soccer at some level, and that we get to watch her again soon.

I love that all three of our kids are terrific athletes--but even more, I love that they play hard and work hard and give it their best. I'm a proud papa.

People #5--Big Sis

I'm writing a series of posts about some of the incredible people who have touched my life...

Elise and I have been friends since college. We met in 1986 at the GMU/NOVA Community College Baptist Student Union. Of all my friends, Elise has probably shown me more patience and grace than anyone.

The truth is, Elise is more like a sister than a friend You can’t dump family; they are yours for life. That’s how it is with Elise and me (not that I would want to dump her!)

We developed a great friendship in college—she really was like a big sister to me. I was a brand new Christian and she taught me about loving God, ministry, serving people. She was my mentor when I was confused, and a shoulder to cry on when I was heartbroken.

She was ALWAYS there, incredibly dependable and supportive.

We both moved to Texas to attend Southwestern Baptist Seminary in the early 90s. I was a pretty self-centered person in those days, and wasn’t a very good friend to Elise, but she was always good to me. I made some pretty bone-headed decisions, and let her down several times, but she never gave up on me and never turned her back on me.

In the late 90s Elise moved back to Virginia. A few years later, I was contemplating moving back to Virginia when Elise asked me to join her in leading the campus ministry we had been a part of in college. As He had done many times, God used Elise in a big way in my life.

I moved back to Virginia, and after several years in different places, our friendship continued. Elise was still a big sister, and a mentor, and the truest of friends.

She guided me in the new ministry, then moved on to other opportunities, as I took over the campus ministry that she had led for several years. We continued to interact in ministry over the years; some of my favorite times were preaching at her church.

Elise is, and has been since I've known her, completely sold out for God and children. She loves all people, but has an incredible heart for children, especially those in need--both in the US, and overseas. Through big projects, mission trips, teaching and training, and in everyday life, she does everything she can to make life better for children.

Elise dreams big, and makes big things happen. I wish I had paid more attention to her dreams and accomplishments over the years, and been more a part of the work she has done with and for children.

Since I’ve moved to Washington, I’ve done a poor job of keeping in touch with Elise. I am able to keep up with her on Facebook frequently. Even though we don’t often talk, I still feel close to her, like you do with family, whether you last talked yesterday or last year.

People #4--Roomie

It's funny how we identify people. Kenny and I lived together for only about about a year and a half, but he will always be my college roommate. We lived together at an instrumental time in our lives, and unlike many college relationships, ours continued long beyond our college years.

You can read about how we met here. I'm not sure what else to say about Kenny, other than he is without a doubt the easiest-going person I have ever met. In all the time we lived together, and throughout the decades of our friendship, we've never had an argument. I've never even been mad at Kenny. I'm sure he's been irritated with me at times (like that year I played the Some Kind of Wonderful soundtrack over and over), but he's never said anything or showed it.

We have that comfortable kind of friendship where we can say anything--things that might be embarrassing in other contexts, but not between us. Those are the strongest friendships, when you know you are accepted no matter what.

Some of our best times in recent years were going to GMU basketball games, and going to Richmond for GMU's conference tournament each March. Those have been some of the best times of my life.

Kenny would be embarrassed if I went into detail, but he has cared for me and my family in many ways over the years. He is one of those guys who would do anything for you.

We still talk, not as often as I'd like, but our conversations always make me smile. There is so much I could say...maybe one day I'll write a book about Kenny. I love you, Pal!

People #3--My First Mentor

I'm writing a series of posts about people who have impacted my life.

David was my first spiritual mentor. I was a college freshman, and a new Christian; David was the Baptist Student Union campus pastor at GMU.

I went to a BSU meeting with some friends one Friday night--about 20 college students hanging out; we played some games, sang songs, ate, and listened to a short message.

I don't remember much about that night (this was 1986!), but I do remember that a few days later I received a post card from David, telling me that he enjoyed meeting me and thanking me for coming. I still have that postcard.

With David, and in the group he led, I found my place. Over the next three years David and I grew very close. He taught me about Jesus and helped me discover and follow my desire to minister, to care for people.

I became a leader in the group, and David helped me find my first ministry position, a summer internship at a local church.

David was wise. His words always taught me something new. But more than that, David lived out the love of God. David was a beautiful example of the power of humility. He was soft-spoken, but his words and demeanor had a quiet strength to them. He treated everyone kindly, even when it wasn't easy. He told the truth in love.

David was always serving others--in our ministry, in the church, in his family. I often felt encouraged and challenged with him; most of all, I always felt loved by him. I enjoyed spending time with David and Norma and their kids; they made me feel like one of the family.

The three years I spent close to David had a profound impact on me. I have wonderful memories of retreats, mission trips, Bible studies, family dinners, holiday parties.

David and his family moved to Ecuador to serve as missionaries, but we stayed in touch over the years. We got together occasionally, in Texas, and Virginia. Jamie, the kids and I got to have lunch with David when driving through South Carolina about 6 years ago. It was a short time, but very special.

At a crucial time in my life, David lived out God's love for me, and taught me how to love God.  He is an amazing man, (even though he is a Yankees fan), and I'm honored to call him my friend!

People #2--Old Friend

Dale is my oldest friend. Not the oldest person I'm friends with, but the person I have been friends with the longest. I think we met in 4th grade. That would be 9 years old; so we've been friends for about 40 years. I could write a book about our friendship (maybe someday I will); for now I'll try to summarize.

Hundreds of people have moved in and out of my life. I've lost touch with most, many I keep up with on Facebook. Only a handful remain a close part of my life. We just don't have the time to maintain all the relationships we wish we could.

Dale and I have always been close, even when there was geographical distance. I could spend hours in the memories of our friendship...hours playing football and baseball in our backyards...riding to school in Dale's VW bus...football games...trekking miles in the snow to see a couple girls...all the adventures of high school... We went in different directions after high school, but kept in touch.

Dale is a Cowboys fan, and I'm a Redskins fan. We always called each other after the two teams played, the one whose team won gloating over the other.

I was in Dale's wedding; he was in mine. Our paths crossed every few years, first in Virginia, then in Texas. Our conversations were sometimes infrequent, but even after months, we always jumped in like we had talked yesterday. Our conversations always ended the same way, with us reciting a scene from Rocky II, one of our favorite childhood movies.

I'll call you.
You gonna call me? 
I'm gonna call you.
You got my number?
No, I'll just call you, I'll just go, "Hey You!"

Three years ago, after not seeing each other for about 7 years, Dale came to Washington to visit; we had a great time.

Dale's marriage was nearing an end, and we began talking more and more, sometimes several times a week. I was going through my own struggles, and we were both there for each other. Our friendship, which had settled into a more casual one, quickly became a strong, important relationship again.

Over the last three years we have grown closer than ever. We talk often, encouraging and challenging each other.

I have many stories I could tell about Dale, and what an amazing friend he is. Here's one.

In 2004, four months after my wedding, my father had a heart attack, spent ten days in the hospital fighting, and died. My step-mother asked me to do the funeral. I spent the next several days helping my family deal with all the details, and planning the service, and thinking about what I'd say.

On the day of the funeral, I was at the funeral home, greeting people, preparing myself for the talk I was going to give in the service. Before the service, I went outside to get alone and gather my thoughts.

A car I didn’t recognize pulled into the lot and parked. The door opened, and a man got out. When he turned and walked toward me, I saw that it was Dale.

Dale lived in Texas. He is a doctor, with four kids. When he got the news about Dad, Dale took off work, said goodbye to his family, and got on a plane to Virginia, to be with me as I grieved.

In forty years people have come and gone. I have had successes and failures. I've gone from the east coast, to Texas, to the west coast. There have been times when life was great, and times when life sucked. Through it all, Dale is there. Always there.

I love you, Dale.

People #1

I've done a lousy job of writing for...well, way too long. Nothing I can do but start writing.

Perhaps it's approaching 50 (not quite yet; I turn 49 next month), but I've been thinking a lot about people lately. Facebook has helped me keep in touch, or at least keep an eye on, many people who have been a part of my life.

I realize I have been very fortunate to have had relationships with many, many wonderful people over the years. Sometimes I get a chance to tell them, and I often spend time remembering, reminiscing.

So I'm going to use those people, and the memories, and the stories, to work on writing. I'm not writing for an audience, but for myself. NA maybe if I write about you, or someone you know, you'll be interested.

I'm only going to use first names, and if you recognize yourself and don't want me to identify you, let me know. I don't think any of my friends are in hiding or running from the law, but you never know.

I'm going to try to be spontaneous--pick people randomly.

Mike--I haven't been in touch with him in several years, but saw him on facebook tonight, and immediately smiled. Mike and I were never super close, but we were friends for many years. We went to church together, and participated in our church's singles ministry. We were involved in small group ministry together. We went to baseball games together.

Mike is one of the kindest, most gentle and encouraging people I've known. I never heard him say anything negative about another. He has a good sense of humor, I remember him always smiling. 

And Mike is a servant. He was always there when someone was moving, or had a big job that required help. 

I have one funny memory of Mike. As years pass, stories like this grow. So this may have only happened once or twice, but over time, the legend has grown.

Like many of us who were students or in ministry, Mike didn't have a lot of money, and he was frugal. We would often go out to lunch or dinner in groups of folks from the singles ministry.

Mike would not order any food, or he would just get something small like a salad. Then, after a while, he would lean over, and ask, quietly, smoothly, with a big grin, "Todd--are you going to eat those fries?"

"Kevin--are you finished with your chicken?"

"Steve--how's that pie? Looks good!"

Mike ate better than most of us, getting a little here, a little there, from the rest of the group. But no one saw Mike as a moocher--he was too nice, too funny, and such a great guy. 

I haven't kept in touch with Mike, but I think of him from time to time. His example of loving and giving and serving others has stayed with me. I hope I live out a little of the example Mike set.

Without fail, a conversation with Mike always made me better. You're a good man, Mike; I'm grateful for the time I had with you!

Kenn Kington--One of my favorite people

I met Kenn Kington at a ministry conference in Phoenix ten years ago. Something big happened right before the conference, and I didn't really want to go. But I had registered for the conference and purchased a plane ticket, so I felt I should go. I said goodbye to my wife and daughter and got on a plane to Phoenix.

I was hurting, grieving, but wanted to get the most out of the conference, and figured it would be good to get away and get my mind off things.

Kenn was serving as a host for the conference, as well as leading workshops and doing comedy at night.

I was drawn to him right away—he was very genuine and approachable. On the first day of the conference I went to one of the workshops that Kenn was leading. There was confusion over which workshop was scheduled at that time. Most of the people were there for a workshop on reaching single adults, and four of us were there for a workshop on communication.

Kenn suggested we go with the topic that the majority was there to talk about, and offered to go to dinner with the four of us who were there for the communication workshop.

We went to dinner at Outback that evening, and Kenn shared fantastic wisdom about communication. I felt like I learned more useful information in that hour than my preaching class in seminary.

Kenn shared great stories, and invited us to share some of ours. We laughed and had a great time. At the end of the meal, we tried to pay for Kenn’s dinner, but he refused, and bought dinner for all four of us!

Over the next few days I went to several of Kenn’s workshops and learned a lot about communication, evangelism, and relationships. Kenn and I shared a few meals together, and had some great conversations.

In the evenings, Kenn did stand-up comedy. The laughter and joy he gave me was incredibly healing. In just three days, I felt like Kenn had become a good friend.

We kept in touch after that conference. Over the years I brought Kenn to the ministry where I worked for speaking engagements, retreats, training and comedy events. He was always gracious and giving and a blessing to be with.

One event that stands out—I picked Kenn up from the airport on a Saturday; he wasn’t doing anything until that evening. I was trying to work out the logistics of the day—to make it easier on me, he offered to come with me to my daughter’s soccer game.

Ashley loved Kenn, and was thrilled to have a celebrity cheering at her soccer game! That night at the comedy show, Kenn invited Ashley to come backstage. He made her weekend wonderful.

I was grieving on that weekend when I first met Kenn, because my father had just died, days before the conference. I was hurting, and Kenn was there for me when I really needed a friend. I will always be grateful for that, and for how he has blessed my family and me many times.

When I saw that Kenn’s father died yesterday, my heart went out to him, and my mind went back to our friendship over the last ten years. I pray for healthy grieving and healing, and tears and laughter for Kenn and his family.

I love you, Brother!

My Take on the Duck Dynasty Firestorm

I love Duck Dynasty. I resisted it for years, and recently got sucked in to the down-home, quirky humor of this family--who all seem like good people. I enjoy watching it with my kids.

But all the social-media brouhaha is crazy, and I am saddened by what I read from many of my evangelical friends, and how this reflects on us Christians.

I do not claim that my opinion is the RIGHT opinion. I've been wrong before. But here is where I am:

This is not a free speech issue. Phil Robertson has the right to say whatever he wants. No one is telling him he can't. But just as he has freedom, A&E has the freedom to run their company the way they choose.

And to say Phil is being persecuted because of his faith? please. Phil has made millions with his business, TV show, and merchandising. He's not hurting. Even without the TV show, he has the means and the freedom to go where he wants, do what he wants, and say what he wants.

To call Phil a martyr is insulting to the millions of people who have lost health, home and life by standing for their beliefs.

Imagine this scenario: There is a network that is created and funded by a Christian ministry. It airs a traditional family TV show with an actor that viewers come to love. It comes out that the actor is gay, and lives with his partner. He begins to talk about LGBT rights publicly.

The network decides that this actor and his beliefs don't fit with their image. They fire him from the TV show. How many evangelicals would stand up and claim that the network trampled the actor's rights?

We're all for free speech when we like the speech; but people often look for ways to stifle that speech when they don't like it or agree with it.

The bigger issue is this: why do many evangelical Christians feel the need to fight the battle against homosexuality publicly? Do they believe their rantings are going to make a positive difference in people's lives? Do you find it helpful or effective when people publicly rebuke you and tell you that you need to change?

I get that they believe it is a sin.

But why do we see so many people in the public arena fighting this fight?

Why not divorce, or greed, or gluttony, or dishonesty?

Why is this one issue elevated so far above others? Many evangelicals will say it is not or should not be addressed more than other "sins." But they still do it. We never see this kind of social media uproar about other issues (except maybe abortion).

Does this follow the example of Jesus? I don't remember reading anything in the Bible about Jesus standing up for free speech, and fighting for individual rights. He seemed more concerned with feeding the hungry and healing the sick and helping the poor and offering forgiveness.

Did Jesus often use public forums condemn particular sins? Most of the time in Scripture when he did address sin, he did so one-on-one, in the context of a relationship; with gentleness and compassion and grace.

When Jesus' rebuked publicly, He was usually addressing the hypocrisy of religious leaders.

Finally, do people think that fighting this fight publicly is going to draw people to Christ? Does anyone think that non-Christians are watching all this and thinking, "wow, these people and their God really love me"?

In my opinion, that should be the bottom line. How do my words and actions help connect others to the God that loves them and gave himself for them? I don't think the current uproar is accomplishing that.

The Value of Time

I wrote this for Gracious Goodbyes, a wonderful blog created by my friend Jill.

The older I get, the more I recognize the value of time. Not about how time working equals financial gain, but the relational value of time.

 When we’re young, time seems like an endless commodity. We don’t think much about how we spend our time, or with whom we spend it; we just live, doing what we want, with whom we want, when we want.

 As I grow older, and life brings more choices and stresses, I realize that our time is limited, especially the time we have to spend with people we love.

Continue here

Courage

The pictures below show what each of my boys did at the Burlington All-Comers Track Meet this summer. Over three weeks, the boys ran every Wednesday night against other kids their age.

Brady's Ribbons

Cash's Ribbons

All runners received ribbons--blue, red or white for the top three in each age group, light blue "participant" ribbons for everyone else.

Looking at the two pictures, it looks like Cash achieved more success. He placed second or third in most of the races he ran, from the first meet. He was really excited and ran very fast.

Brady, who just turned 7, was running against 7 and 8 year olds, and was often one of the smaller kids in his races.

At the first meet, Brady ran his best, but was never able to break the top three for a red, white, or blue ribbon. He did receive 4 participant ribbons, while Cash had one 2nd place and one 3rd place ribbon. Brady was disappointed he didn't do better.

At the second meet, we talked about him running some longer races. In the first meet, both boys ran the 50 meters, the 50 meter hurdles, and the 100 meters. I encouraged Brady to run the 200 and 400, thinking he could do better in the races that depended less on speed, and more on endurance.

But at the second meet, Brady got anxious and didn't want to run at all. He watched Cash run race after race, earning even more ribbons, and he kind of shut down and didn't run at all after doing the softball throw.

I was really disappointed. I didn't care about him winning, but I didn't want him to quit. I didn't want to see him give in to fear. I wanted him to be brave and do his best, even if it didn't turn out the way he wanted.

All those desires are good, but I let it frustrate me more than I should have.

It was a great lesson in realizing that our kids are their own people, and make their own decisions. I had to let it go.

I tried to encourage him, telling him that winning wasn't what mattered, but trying. Doing his best.

Going into the last meet, Brady had a pretty good attitude, and seemed ready to try again.

He did the softball throw, and got a participant ribbon. He ran the 50 meter dash, and got another participant ribbon. He ran a great race in the 200, but finished 4th, and got another participant ribbon.

At this point Brady had earned 9 participant ribbons. Cash had earned 9 ribbons for 2nd or 3rd place. 

The last event Brady tried was the 400. One full lap. Too long to sprint. He started off well, pushing his way to the inside and looking strong for the first 200 meters. Between 200 and 300 meters I could see he was getting winded and tired. 

I was running along the infield, yelling encouragement to him. 

"Keep pushing Brady! Don't stop! Run as fast as you can, now, all the way through!"

On the last straight I could see he was hurting. Another runner pulled alongside Brady, and looked as if he were going to pass him, but Brady found another gear and pulled away. He crossed the finish line in second place.

As I watched the race official hand him the red ribbon, tears filled my eyes.

I was proud that he ran his best and never gave up. I was happy for him that he earned a red ribbon, knowing how important that was to him. 

I'm proud and excited for all the red and white ribbons Cash earned, and just as proud and excited for the one red ribbon Brady earned.

I love being a dad.