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.

Rich Mullins film is coming!

After hearing about a Rich Mullins movie for a couple years, I finally saw a trailer today.

I watched it over and over, and it brought back many memories...

I was introduced to Rich's music in 1986. I was a new Christian, and everyone was listening to Amy Grant at the time. I went with some friends to see her in concert at the Patriot Center, the arena at George Mason University, where I was a student.

Rich opened for Amy. I think he sang "Sing Your Praise to the Lord," a song Rich wrote that became a big hit for Amy. I was greatly impacted by his music. I bought his debut album and listened over and over.

I bought every album he put out from then on.

"Awesome God" was probably his biggest hit, but I preferred some of his lesser known songs. A few early favorites of mine were "If I Stand" and "Home."

In 1991 and 1992 Rich released The World As Best As I Remember It, volumes 1 and 2. Both were amazing albums, with "Step By Step," "I See You," "Waiting," "All the Way My Savior Leads Me" and "Sometimes By Step."

In 1993 came A Liturgy, a Legacy, & a Ragamuffin Band, with "Creed" and "Hold Me, Jesus." The album was later chosen number three on CCM's greatest albums in Christian music.

Rich's music became the soundtrack for much of my life in my twenties and thirties. I listened to him all the time. "Hold Me Jesus" was my go-to song when I was hurting, afraid, uncertain about life, and who I was, and where I was going.

"Creed" was my inspiration, when I needed a spiritual boost. "Step By Step" and "Waiting" were my prayers, as I reached out to God and sought his presence.

I remember when Rich died in 1997. I was in seminary in Fort Worth, and went over to my girlfriend's apartment one day. She sat me down on the sofa and told me Rich had been killed in an auto accident. I sat there stunned for a minute, then began to cry. I felt like I had lost a close friend.

Rich also introduced me to one of my favorite writers, Brennan Manning, starting with his book The Ragamuffin Gospel--which is my absolute favorite book ever.

In 2002, I was leading a campus ministry at GMU. In October we went to a retreat at Eagle Eyrie, near Lynchburg, VA. The speaker for the retreat was James Bryan Smith, a professor, writer and speaker. Jim and Rich were good friends; in 2000 Jim wrote Rich Mullins: An Arrow Pointing to Heaven.

It was a beautiful picture of Rich's life, music and ministry.

I was thrilled to meet Jim, and hoped to get a minute or two to chat. One day at lunch, I had been talking with students and went to get some food as most were leaving the cafeteria. Jim came in, and we ended up sitting together and talking.

He shared wonderful stories of Rich's life and their friendship--Rich lived with Jim and his family for a time, and Rich wrote "Madeline's Song" for Jim's daughter, who was born with severe health problems, and died six months after Rich's death.

We talked for about an hour, and it was wonderful. Spending that time with a close friend of Rich and hearing personal stories about his life was amazing. I was so grateful to God, and to Jim, for that time. I left feeling even closer to Rich, who has made such a big impact on my life, in many ways.

If you don't know Rich's music, LISTEN! I've linked to many of his songs, I encourage you to take some time and let God sing to you through Rich.

Goodbyes and other changes

Old age creeps in...I wrote this post in March, thought I posted it, but didn't. It's been sitting in my drafts for over a month. Better late than never...


I've probably written about goodbyes before; they happen a lot the older I get. Change is part of life, yada, yada...

But change and goodbyes never get easier. And last week was a tough one.

Last year I moved into a leadership position at Logos and was assigned an administrative assistant. Lauren transferred to our team from another department. She was friendly and professional and eager to learn.

She soon became the hub of our department and worked hard to help us all be successful. We worked together a lot, and quickly got to know each other. Our team ate lunch together once a week. Lauren and her boyfriend came to Cash's birthday party.

We would often start Mondays by telling each other about our weekends. Lauren always asked about how Jamie was doing, and was an encouragement to me during that time.

When work was difficult, Lauren was a loyal co-worker and a good friend. She became one of my favorite people, and made work a more enjoyable place. I came to see her kind of like a little sister. (although I'm old enough to be her dad : )

Lauren and her boyfriend both recently got great jobs in Seattle, so they have moved down there.

I am really excited for them, watching them begin a great new adventure together. But I will miss seeing her at work. I know we'll stay in touch, we talked about taking my family down and hanging out with them in Seattle.

Work won't be the same without her, and I'm sad for that.

But I am glad for the time we did work together, and for how Lauren's kindness and encouragement helped me when Jamie was going through her treatment, and when I was going through frustrating times at work.

Lauren is the most recent in a long line of wonderful people that have impacted my life, and made it a little better. Saying goodbye is always hard; but I am so grateful for Lauren, and the others to whom I've had to say goodbye, because the hard goodbye means the friendship was special. And that's good.

A Lesson in the Cold

Brady had baseball practice tonight, even though it was freezing, and halfway into the practice it started raining. It was so cold that at one point I looked around and realized all the parents had gone to their cars in the parking lot. Cash and I were the only ones still watching.

After a while, Brady came over to the dugout, where Cash and I were standing and watching. He was in tears, his face and hands red and frozen. He wanted to go home.

"Brady, we can't just leave. Your teammates are out there practicing, and you're part of the team. I know it's tough, but keep moving, keep your hand in your pocket and try to be strong."

He began crying, asking me to please take him home.

I told him I would, but that he needed to go tell his coach he needed to go. He didn't want to, and kept talking and crying about being cold.

I wanted to take him home. I wanted to tell his coach he was crazy to keep practicing. I thought about how sometimes at work I don't agree with the decisions made by those above me.

I told Brady, "You have two options, Buddy. You can tell your coach that you're just too cold and sore and need to leave, or you can go back out there in the field and keep going."

He stood there a minute, then ran back out on the field. Soon it was Brady's turn to bat. He came in and hit several balls, even though I could tell it hurt his hands each time he connected.

A few minutes later, Coach said enough and ended practice.

I went up to Brady in the dugout and knelt down in front of him. I took his face in my hands and said, "Brady, I have never been more proud of you than I am right now. I know you hurt, and wanted to leave. I wanted to leave. But I am so proud that you went out there and kept working."

His red face broke into a big smile, and we raced to the car.

I love being a dad.

Another New Year

A new year. Hard to believe.
Another chance for me to try once again to be more faithful in writing.

Random thoughts today...

Excited for a new year, new opportunities, new challenges (and some that continue)...

I preached Sunday about moving from self-consciousness to God-consciousness.

You can listen here if you are interested.

It's something I'm working on, and really want to work on with my kids... I want them to grow up bold and free and unashamed.

This past year has been the most stressful of my life--Jamie's battle with cancer (which has been a big victory--she had her last treatment 4 weeks ago and is doing great!) and stress at work have been the main factors.

Money is always an issue, but we have been very blessed by God and by family and friends who have helped out.

I've been fortunate to get part-time work at our church, where I preach once a month. The people there are great and have quickly become family.

The kids are doing great--I can't believe Ashley is a junior. She is doing great in school, and becoming more wonderful every day!

The boys are growing by the minute--they are so much fun and make Christmas such a joyful time.

I have gained a little weight this year, but taking advantage of the new year to make some changes in diet and exercise. I have my 30-year high school reunion next summer (which sounds unbelievable every time I say it or write it), a good time to try to get back into shape.

I also want to recommit to spending time with God, reading, praying, thinking and writing.

One of the reasons we moved to Washington was for life to slow down, and it has. But I need to slow down my thoughts, and specifically my worries; and enjoy each day, each minute, with my amazing family.

Rain

After 81 days without rain, the boys celebrate.

Brennan Manning--Furious Longing of God

Brennan Manning is one of my favorite writers. The Ragamuffin Gospel had a profound impact on me. If you haven't read it, go get a copy NOW and start reading. It will change your life.

One of his recent books is called The Furious Longing of God. My father-in-law gave it to me a few years ago, but I never got around to reading it. I'm reading it now; I'll share some thoughts as I go through it.

The seldom-stated truth is that many of us have a longing for God and an aversion to God. Some of us seek Him and flee Him at the same time.

I'm doing some thinking about that. My first response is, "no; I don't run from God."

But what I think I do is run from the fullness of God. I keep God at a distance. I seek him occasionally, talk, vent, ask, listen...but more often I wave, glance, have a quick, passing conversation.

I don't slow down and just spend time with God the way I did, when I was young and single and didn't have any responsibility.

Now with work and kids and home and sports and a full calendar, it takes major effort to seek God and spend quality time.

But it is worth the effort. When I do put the energy into it, and listen, and share, and just be with God, I become more grounded, more centered, more peaceful.

And I know that God can handle me when I seek Him, and when I flee. And He's still there, either way.

I must read. I must write.

I have been far too absent here. Why? I sometimes struggle with what to write about.

I feel like I need to be careful. Why? Probably fear. Fear that I will say something that will get me into trouble.

Several years ago I was talking with a church about serving as their interim pastor. I preached there several times, met with the deacons, and answered all their questions.

I was scheduled to preach again one Sunday, and worship would be followed by a Q & A with the congregation. The church would then vote on calling me as their interim pastor.

On Thursday evening I got an email from the chairman of the deacons that they had changed their minds about hiring an interim pastor, and that I didn't need to come preach Sunday.

I called him to find out what was going on, and after some gentle pushing, got him to tell me that someone had found some past writings on my blog that concerned them, and that some folks had convinced the deacons not to consider me.

I never got details on what specifically I had written that bothered them, but I imagine it had something to do with posts I wrote before the 2008 election. I was pretty open about my views going into the election, and quoted writings from pastors and authors about the election.

I got into some good discussions/debates with friends over religion and politics. I probably said something that made some folks at that church think I was too liberal. And I lost the job. It was pretty bad timing--a time when I really needed the job.

Anyway, I realized that I needed to be careful about what I write. Guys like Brian McLaren and Mark Driscoll (see me being neutral here?) can get away with say what they think. They are secure enough in their roles as writers and pastors and have enough followers that they don't have to worry about offending anyone. (I mean, they both offend people, but it doesn't come back to bite them.)

I'm now working for a Bible software company. Not in ministry, but kind of close. I did once have a potential customer tell me they googled me before our phone meeting. And I do still think about going back into church ministry, so I feel I need to be careful.

But I have to write. I don't feel like myself if I'm not. And I'm so tired of all the fighting, I don't want to write about politics or religion in ways that invite debate.

So I'm going to write about what I'm thinking and reading, but try to do it in ways that are productive for both me and anyone who reads.

I'm starting Brennan Manning's The Furious Longing of God. More tomorrow...

Instinct

Brady is a great soccer player--way above his years--and gets most of the sports attention between the boys these days. But tonight, Cash had a great moment to shine.

We were at Brady's soccer practice; I was playing with Cash while Brady was with his teammates.

We had a goal set up and we were taking turns shooting--one would shoot while the other played goalie.

Cash was in the goal, and I was taking some pretty hard shots at him. He missed a few, but stopped most of them.

At one point I shot toward his left, he ran to block it and kicked it back to me. I immediately took another shot, to the same side. He was moving back to his right when the ball came flying to his left. In an instant, he twisted his body and his left hand shot up and knocked the ball away.

It was amazing; I couldn't believe how quickly he moved.

I cheered him, then walked over and sat down with him.

"I want to talk about that Cash; that was a great save! Sometimes when we do something, we think about it first, right?"

I don't know if he got it, but he nodded.

"Just then, when I kicked the ball, you didn't think about what to do; you didn't have time to think. You just reached out and hit the ball.

"That's called instinct, Cash. That's when your mind and your body work together, and you do what you need to do without even thinking about it.

"That's what great athletes do, Cash. They act on instinct. They make a great play like that (I snapped my fingers) without even thinking. And that's what you do, Cash. You are a great athlete!"

He smiled ear-to-ear and gave me the biggest hug. 

It was a great moment. I am truly amazed at his talent, whatever sport we are playing. And I love cheering him on.

A Book You Should Read

I have mentioned my friend Kenny Budd and the book he recently published. I was honored to read through an early draft as he wrote, and just finished reading the final product. It was a wonderful experience reading it all the way through; I enjoyed reading the sections as he wrote it, but really love seeing how it all came together.

Here is a review I posted on Amazon. I highly recommend it!

The Voluntourist is a touching tale of honest self-examination. Memoir can be difficult, because while our lives are important to us, it is challenging to write about our lives in a way that will connect with others. Will readers be able to relate to the experiences I’ve had? Will they care?

In this case, the answer is yes. Ken shares very openly about his life, his struggles, his weaknesses, doubts and questions…he tells beautiful stories of his attempts to make a difference in the world. While he experiences things that most others never do, he shares those experiences in a way that draws the reader in.

His imagery is simple—in a good way. No excessive descriptions, just enough to help the reader get a good feel for the places and people he encounters. The focus is on the people with who Ken works, and how they touch his life.

We feel Ken's joy in the relationships he builds as he travels the world, doing volunteer work in Costa Rica, New Orleans, China, Ecuador, Palestine, and Kenya. We also feel his heartbreak over losing his father, and over his growing understanding and acceptance that he will likely never be a father.

The power of the book is Ken’s journey to see life through the lens of his father, who died too young. Examining his father’s life, and his own, leads him on a spiritual journey that is uniquely his, yet one that almost anyone can relate to.

There are many beautiful scenes involving Ken and the children he works with and comes to love. Especially powerful is an awkward yet beautifully touching story of how Ken, who does not typically pray, goes into a church and prays for the people in his life.

Ken doesn’t try too hard to teach any lessons. By sharing simply about what he has learned, Ken leads the reader to do his/her own self-examination.

The Voluntourist is a very honest book. Ken shares openly about his life and relationships. Like life, there are times when Ken’s story is deeply profound, emotional, gut wrenching… other times when it is clever and very funny.

By sharing stories of adventures in several countries and continents, Ken shows how our world is both big and small; big because of the size and diversity; small because the truth is people are people, and wherever they are, they all strive to find purpose in life.

Ken learns, and then shares with the reader, that life is really about the people in our lives, how they touch us, and how we touch them.

And in the end, The Voluntourist is really a love story—about the love Ken had with his father, the love he has family and friends, the love he has with the children he encounters all over the world, and most of all, the love between Ken and his wife, Julie, a love that grows and matures and overcomes challenges, and grows stronger through Ken’s journey around the world and into himself. 

Thoughts on Supreme Court Ruling today

Some random thoughts about today's news and reactions to it...

I've read from a couple people who are against the Affordable Care Act that "God is still in control, not Obama."

I think they believe today's decision is NOT what God wants. Yet their statements about who is in control would imply that the decision IS what God wants...He is in control, right?

I'm not stating that God is on one side or the other; just think it's interesting that some people are so certain that God is against this, and that those who follow God should also be against it.


I've seen something else interesting in many of the comments I'm reading.

Those who are against the ruling today, and the Affordable Care Act, are mostly talking about how it will affect them:
"how this will affect my taxes..."
"what the government is going to make me do..."


Those on the other side, who are for it, are talking about how it will help other people--the poor, those already sick, etc.

Interesting to see who is more concerned with self, and who is more concerned with others.


Finally, I don't have a problem if you are against the Affordable Care Act. But do you really believe President Obama is evil? That this is a plan to destroy our country?


Even if you think this plan is not a good way to do it, couldn't you consider that the motivation behind it is to help more people?

Getting Older

Yesterday I was playing baseball in the backyard with my boys, and a memory came to me from 35 years ago.

My friend C and I would go out in the back yard, set up a makeshift home plate and pitcher's rubber, and pitch to each other.

One of us would pitch, the other catch; back and forth, for hours. There was no batter, and no hits. Only strikeouts and walks. The catcher made the calls, there was no arguing.

We had fun like that for hours on end, day after day. It was just one of many memories I have of that friendship. C and I have stayed close over the years, we still talk frequently.

As I looked back at those days, I thought about the kids we were--young, innocent, our whole lives ahead.

I remember at C's wedding, 21 years ago, his mother saying she never would have imagined C and I would end up being a doctor and a pastor.

And no one would have imagined that we would now be facing the challenges we are--one of us going through a painful divorce, the other struggling to hold it together while supporting a wife with cancer.

As I stood in the backyard and remembered those days of pitching and catching, I was gripped by a powerful feeling of nostalgia, a feeling that started in my chest and spread through my whole body, like a wave--strong yet warm.

I missed those boys, and the freedom of life at that stage. I thought of where my friend is now, and hurt for the pain he is going through. At the same time, I thought that those days seemed both forever ago, and just a little more than yesterday.

 I've never thought much about mid-life crises, at least for myself. I never felt my age, so wasn't as concerned with getting older.

20 years ago, 50 seemed ancient. Not so much now. It still sounds old, but doesn't feel as old (except on the mornings when I run). But the truth is, I'm sort of in denial; not really grasping the idea that in three years I'll be 50.

Each year we are closer to the end of life, and further from the beginning, but I never really thought about that until I was 40. I know I've lived more than half my life, and that's an unsettling thought.

I also look back at what I've accomplished, and wonder what I still have left to accomplish. I haven't done as much as I wish. I won't go there--I'm a pretty positive person, and not one to sit and lament or complain.

I am very self-aware, I know my strengths and weaknesses, and I am relatively OK with who I am. There is still a lot I want to do, and I guess the pressure now is time. Is there enough time to do what I still want to do?

One thing I have learned to do is slow down, look back, and find joy in the memories. I remember when I was younger, I didn't really enjoy looking back. It made me sad to remember a good time that was over, a season of life that had passed.

But now I find that the memories can actually bring me joy. I can close my eyes and go back to times and places that are gone, but that were good, and meaningful. Rather than regret that they are gone, I find that the memories can lift me up, warm my heart, make me feel good about all that has happened in my life.

I'm going to spend some time writing about some of those memories. Memoir is the type of writing I have most enjoyed. It helps me realize that I have been very blessed in the people and places that have made up my life.

I also find I can look back with a healthy attitude when I am satisfied in the present, and this weekend, I really am.

Jamie is in the midst of cancer treatment, so there is a lot of uncertainty there. We are going through a restructuring at work, and facing a lot of change there. Ten months after moving across the country, I still miss my family and friends in Virginia.

Yet in the midst of it, I have spent a lot of time lately thinking how great my life is. Jamie and I are getting along really well. I love spending time with my kids--we make the most of every minute, especially on the weekends.

And I am reminded that no matter where I am, it all comes down to relationships. My wife and kids. My in-laws. My new friends at work and church. And the joy of the memories of all the people and relationships that have touched my life and made me who I am. I have a good life.