October 21,2010

It’s quite. My wife and children have all gone to bed and I find myself in a place, that I hate to admit, is all too familiar. I promised myself that my blog would be a place of honesty, a place where I would express the hardest parts of my journey. So instead of having another private entry into my journal tonight I thought I would write about the messy reality of a pastor’s heart on this road less traveled.

See for those of you that might be stopping by for the first time you might find this a bit unnerving. It’s OK if you feel that way because it makes me, the writer, a bit uncomfortable. See, I’m in a season that pastors never like to talk about. It’s like I pledged some secret fraternity that has an unspoken rule. It is a rule that discourages honesty about our passion for God’s Word. Well, maybe that is a bit misleading. It is less about my passion for the Word, but more about my lack thereof. You see my heart at times experiences a seasonal change like the Fall leaves as months that pass by in the mountains of Colorado. This season in my journey is not one that you want to meander through and take snapshots to hang on the wall. This season comes with a hundred excuses, excuses justifying my lack of desire for God’s Love Letter to me. Excuses that fumble off the tongue like a young school child when asked to turn in the homework that they forgot to complete. There continues to be this nagging tug at my heart like my son’s holding onto my pant leg in a busy supermarket. A tug that says slow down and be with the Father. However, my routine is less disturbing than my heart’s desire. The essence of what I’m saying is my soul is dry and the bucket that one lowers into the well keeps hitting the bottom producing a resounding sharp echo… “Clank”.

Now ask yourself, what could be more useless than a dry well? It’s not like you can simply turn a well without water into something useful. I don’t see this being a HGTV special where they come in and do a makeover on some fancy Victorian home. We’re talking about a deep hole in the ground that is nothing more than empty. Empty and missing the very thing that gives it purpose, water. So why would I tell you, my reader, this? Well, I’m guessing that there are people out there that have felt this very same thing before and have thought to themselves, “There must be something wrong with me.” Or, “Maybe God doesn’t love me as much as He used to.” It’s not like I’m trying to avoid His Word. I’m not looking to run from Him or trying to conceal some secret sin issue that I’m unwilling to address. Right now I’m in a season that His Word doesn’t seem to be alive and active. There’s a silence in the air.

Now I’m not so naïve as to assume that the Word is not alive and active in spite of my inability to see it right now. God is on the move regardless of my spiritual or emotional inability to recognize His voice on the pages of His Word. I’m speaking more about the lack of passion to be in the Word. I personally believe that every believer goes through these seasons whether we talk about it or not. This post isn’t to justify this place or even make sense of how I got here. I’m writing to acknowledge this season and that this heart still has a propensity to wonder into places that have walls. Walls that seem to trap the way I think and walls that seem unforgiving as they move in to create this smallness to His presence. These walls create a place where the rope leading out seems to be just out of grasp. There is light in the distance as I look up from the bottom, but it’s damp in the darkness.

There is hope that water will once again touch these walls and consume the presence of this place. There is understanding that this bucket that seems empty will once again rise up with a purpose. There is knowledge that it will rain again and this season will change like the spring taking from the presence of winter. For now however, I will continue to reach for a rope that today seems out of my grasp. I know the days ahead will produce something different. How do I know? I’ve been here before. See I don’t think this is strange or contrary to the life of a believer. I know the ebb and flow of our journey. The question is not, "Why am I here?” The question is, "How long am I willing to wait upon His Word to drink the water again?" It brings to mind an old song that my dad used to sing when I was a kid. “Spring up ol’ well within my soul. Spring up ol’ well and make me whole.” Maybe that song writer understood me…

                                                                                                              October 14, 2010

The emotion on the front end of taking a risk to follow Christ is much different than the emotion you experience on the back end. Many will never understand what I’m talking about. For those that have given up a dream or ambition to follow Christ in His purpose for their life understand the emotion that I’m speaking of. This emotion rests in a place where there are a thousand questions about our futures. It’s a place that is foreign and uncomfortable because it’s produced in our lives when we give up our ways in exchange for His. It is not comfortable. It is not always joyous and it is defiantly not easy.

The questions of "why" are met with silence. The ability to see beyond tomorrow is void. Everything is new and strange. You’re met with an overwhelming tension between what you've known and loved with the reality of a calling to love and invest yourself into something different. I don’t think it’s anything new. It’s a tension that goes all the way back to the first church. I see it in the pages of Jews being sent to influence Gentiles and Gentiles going to the Jews. Its image is overlooked in the fine details on page after page of people reaching into the lives of people that were unlike their own. To stay in Jerusalem would have been easy, but Samaria?

It’s an amazing thing when you find yourself being thrust into the deeper realms of scripture. See Acts1:8 has taken on a whole new tone and significance to me. I just thought I understood the “uttermost parts of the world” bit because of a mission trip here and there. I thought I had a glimpse of a diverse culture that the “Samaria” reference stood for in our church speak. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Diversity is not truly understood when you are in the majority. Diversity is only understood when you are faced with a reality that you are the minority and the knowledge that you will continue to be. That is not necessarily a bad thing. However, it does give you a deeper glimpse into the cost of reaching your “Samaria” or the “utter most parts”. I’m finding that this knowledge is another tool that my Redeemer is using to bring me into a deeper reliance of who He is. This kind of education strips us down of the self-reliance and pride that our Jerusalem’s tend build up within us. There is nothing more sobering than being in place that sees no value in your accomplishments somewhere else.

This place of reliance on who He is can be a good place. It can be a place of intimacy with the King. It can strengthen us. It can prepare us for a journey that can blow our minds and speak to our souls. It can change us. However, it has to start within the heart and emotion of who we are. See the emotion that we tend to make the choice to step out and follow our King with so frequently changes when our pursuit takes us through Samaria. Our emotion begins to change when our expectations are altered. Our emotions begin to speak with more reality in our lives than our God. It’s a dangerous place to be, hence the need to address our dependence on our Father. My emotions are God given, but so is His Word. What I choose to listen to more will greatly alter how I see my God. He continues to speak into me… “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not in your own understanding, but in all of your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your path.”

                                                                                                                  August 29, 2010

I have never reposted a blog of another writer before.  It is highly unlikely that I will again, however Dr. Moore's perspesctive on this matter is spot on with my heart and concerns.  To read more from Russell D. Moore you can find him at http://www.russellmoore.com/2010/08/29/god-the-gospel-and-glenn-beck/ .  Dr. Moore is the Dean of the School of Theology and Senior Vice-President for Academic Administration at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary.  I'm glad to see that people are willing to stand up and speak to this issue.

"Mormon television star stands in front of the Lincoln Memorial and calls American Christians to revival. He assembles some evangelical celebrities to give testimonies, and then preaches a God and country revivalism that leaves the evangelicals cheering that they’ve heard the gospel, right there in the nation’s capital.

The news media pronounces him the new leader of America’s Christian conservative movement, and a flock of America’s Christian conservatives have no problem with that.If you’d told me that ten years ago, I would have assumed it was from the pages of an evangelical apocalyptic novel about the end-times. But it’s not. It’s from this week’s headlines. And it is a scandal.

Fox News commentator Glenn Beck, of course, is that Mormon at the center of all this. Beck isn’t the problem. He’s an entrepreneur, he’s brilliant, and, hats off to him, he knows his market. Latter-day Saints have every right to speak, with full religious liberty, in the public square. I’m quite willing to work with Mormons on various issues, as citizens working for the common good. What concerns me here is not what this says about Beck or the “Tea Party” or any other entertainment or political figure. What concerns me is about what this says about the Christian churches in the United States.

It’s taken us a long time to get here, in this plummet from Francis Schaeffer to Glenn Beck. In order to be this gullible, American Christians have had to endure years of vacuous talk about undefined “revival” and “turning America back to God” that was less about anything uniquely Christian than about, at best, a generically theistic civil religion and, at worst, some partisan political movement.

Rather than cultivating a Christian vision of justice and the common good (which would have, by necessity, been nuanced enough to put us sometimes at odds with our political allies), we’ve relied on populist God-and-country sloganeering and outrage-generating talking heads. We’ve tolerated heresy and buffoonery in our leadership as long as with it there is sufficient political “conservatism” and a sufficient commercial venue to sell our books and products.

Too often, and for too long, American “Christianity” has been a political agenda in search of a gospel useful enough to accommodate it. There is a liberation theology of the Left, and there is also a liberation theology of the Right, and both are at heart mammon worship. The liberation theology of the Left often wants a Barabbas, to fight off the oppressors as though our ultimate problem were the reign of Rome and not the reign of death. The liberation theology of the Right wants a golden calf, to represent religion and to remind us of all the economic security we had in Egypt. Both want a Caesar or a Pharaoh, not a Messiah.

Leaders will always be tempted to bypass the problem behind the problems: captivity to sin, bondage to the accusations of the demonic powers, the sentence of death. That’s why so many of our Christian superstars smile at crowds of thousands, reassuring them that they don’t like to talk about sin. That’s why other Christian celebrities are seen to be courageous for fighting their culture wars, while they carefully leave out the sins most likely to be endemic to the people paying the bills in their movements.

Where there is no gospel, something else will fill the void: therapy, consumerism, racial or class resentment, utopian politics, crazy conspiracy theories of the left, crazy conspiracy theories of the right; anything will do. The prophet Isaiah warned us of such conspiracies replacing the Word of God centuries ago (Is. 8:12–20). As long as the Serpent’s voice is heard, “You shall not surely die,” the powers are comfortable.

This is, of course, not new. Our Lord Jesus faced this test when Satan took him to a high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the earth, and their glory. Satan did not mind surrendering his authority to Jesus. He didn’t mind a universe without pornography or Islam or abortion or nuclear weaponry. Satan did not mind Judeo-Christian values. He wasn’t worried about “revival” or “getting back to God.” What he opposes was the gospel of Christ crucified and resurrected for the sins of the world.

We used to sing that old gospel song, “I will cling to an old rugged cross, and exchange it some day for a crown.” The scandalous scene at the Lincoln Memorial indicates that many of us want to exchange it in too soon. To Jesus, Satan offered power and glory. To us, all he needs offer is celebrity and attention.

Mormonism and Mammonism are contrary to the gospel of Jesus Christ. They offer another Lord Jesus than the One offered in the Scriptures and Christian tradition, and another way to approach him. An embrace of these tragic new vehicles for the old Gnostic heresy is unloving to our Mormon friends and secularist neighbors, and to the rest of the watching world. Any “revival” that is possible without the Lord Jesus Christ is a “revival” of a different kind of spirit than the Spirit of Christ (1 Jn. 4:1-3).

The answer to this scandal isn’t a retreat, as some would have it, to an allegedly apolitical isolation. Such attempts lead us right back here, in spades, to a hyper-political wasteland. If the churches are not forming consciences, consciences will be formed by the status quo, including whatever demagogues can yell the loudest or cry the hardest. The answer isn’t a narrowing sectarianism, retreating further and further into our enclaves. The answer includes local churches that preach the gospel of Jesus Christ, and disciple their congregations to know the difference between the kingdom of God and the latest political whim.

It’s sad to see so many Christians confusing Mormon politics or American nationalism with the gospel of Jesus Christ. But, don’t get me wrong, I’m not pessimistic. Jesus will build his church, and he will build it on the gospel. He doesn’t need American Christianity to do it. Vibrant, loving, orthodox Christianity will flourish, perhaps among the poor of Haiti or the persecuted of Sudan or the outlawed of China, but it will flourish.

And there will be a new generation, in America and elsewhere, who will be ready for a gospel that is more than just Fox News at prayer."

                                                                                                               August 25, 2010

Well, I’m back at it again after taking some time to adjust to a new season of ministry here in Hawaii. Many may think that living in paradise is all anyone could ask for, but what the common tourist fails to understand is that this is a community unlike any other. It’s different. To the common mainland perspective it is a bit strange or even dysfunctional at first glance, but that does not detract from the fact that genuine community exists within this unique cultural paradigm.

You see a “Community” is defined by the group of people, who have common cultural, ethical and religious beliefs, living together in a particular local area. The people can also form a community if they have any other virtues in common, like a common profession, a common language, common goals of life, etc. the term Community is widely used to evoke a sense of collectivism. It’s no different here. The culture thrives on community here at a rich and deep level. Matter of fact the Hawaiian language expresses a strong sense of community. A term that resonates with me is one that plays out in the community beautifully and that term is ohana.

From an outsiders perspective they would see ohana as simply meaning family. However, here ohana carries a sense that family is a place to feed each other and to be fed, as well. One of the Hawaiian proverbs recorded by the venerated Mary Kawena Pukui is ‘Ike aku, ‘ike mai, kōkua aku, kōkua mai; pela iho la ka nohana ‘ohana -- "Recognize others, be recognized, help others, be helped; such is a family relationship." Yet there is a deeper understanding that you will quickly grasp if you spend time with people here. Ohana is more than just family. It’s an understanding that within the family or a community of families no one get’s left behind. There is value placed in each and every member of the family or community unit. It’s a beautiful display of how God sees us.

Scott Peck says it well when he wrote, “There can be no vulnerability without risk; there can be no community without vulnerability; there can be no peace, and ultimately no life, without community.” I’m staggered by the understanding that this is the very sentiment that encapsulates the original intent and design of the church. Not just the church here in this small part of the world, but globally. The church was commissioned with this sense of understanding that we are to bring the gospel to the least of those within our community or family. That takes risk and vulnerability. Have we lost our way? Have we become willing to leave certain people behind for the sake of our agendas or our unwillingness to be vulnerable?

Groucho Marx was recorded as saying, “I would never belong to a group that would accept someone like me as a member.” My prayer for our time here would be to reach into a culture and communicate the love of Christ in such ways that the Groucho Marx’s of the Pacific Islands would find a place to belong. I’m still a firm believer that people don’t have a problem with our God, they have a problem with our churches. Lord help me to lead with the conviction and tenacity to create a deeper understanding of ohana in the life of your Bride. May I be vulnerable enough to take the risks that would allow us to see Your glory displayed here and beyond. Lord help me to understand that the life I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and that in turn another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place my touch will be felt.

                                                                                                                    July 18, 2010

You know there had to be moments in scripture that we don’t fully grasp nor do we really even catch a glimpse of, but you know they were there in the backdrop of people’s lives. There were moments in time where great men and women of faith had to have their last day. We don’t see them or read about them and we really don’t have much understanding of the depth and grief that came along with them. However, I have no doubt that there was a bittersweet and even painful last day with many of the people we see in God’s Word. It was that last day spent with the people they loved before moving toward a deeper call in the relationship with their God.

I’m talking about a last day like Moses spent with his family or friends before heading to Egypt to convience the Pharaoh to let Yahweh’s people go. Or the last day Nehemiah had with his people of prayer before he left to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem. There was a morning in which Joshua had to wake up and realize that today he would move through a difficult moment of leading God's people into the promise land all the while realizing it would be without the voice of his dear friend and leader, Moses. There are moments in scripture where people had to experience a last day in the life they knew or even loved before God could use them in His divine plan of redemption.

Can you begin to imagine the last morning Abraham had with his son before heading up the mountain toward a soon to be altar or Esther in her last day of fasting before having to approach the King uninvited; knowing it could have cost her everything, including her life? There had to be moments in the lives of these great people that mirrored my morning. I woke up around 5:30 with a deep sadness that today would be my last day of worship with people that have held my heart. It was like I got punched in the stomach realizing that this was really happening. I thought I understood the gravity of this season when I told our church family that the Lord was leading us to Hawaii. I was wrong. I thought the day the movers showed up to load the truck with all the boxes of stuff was the real kicker. Wrong again. I now realize it’s worship that has brought me together with these dear people. All along it's been the preaching of His Word that has bound my heart with His people. It’s spiritual you could say.

Now I’m not trying to compare the emotion or confliction that I have with leaving my ministry here in Denver, CO with these moments in scripture, but none-the-less this moment is real for me. Its days like today that force me to realize that there have been people long before me that have been called into deeper walks of faith who had to leave lives they loved behind. It’s realizing that in order to pursue the upward call of Christ we must be moving forward and that doesn’t always allow us to remain in the same places. That’s what makes being a Christian so hard. Faith and obedience calls us out of places of comfort. Our pursuit of our King calls us to walk in places of great unknowns. It’s what makes it simply hard at times to draw near to Him. The reality of it all is that being close to God is not only hard at times, it’s also painful.

Today we worship with some dear friends for the last time on this side of glory. It’s my last day and once again I don’t write for you the reader, I write for me. As badly as I want this day to be over at 7:30 in the morning I also want to remember how I felt about it. You see people often ask me how I measure success in ministry sadly because we have a tendency to measure the success of things by numbers or dollars. I’m writing to remind myself that I should be measuring the success of ministry by the depth of relationship I have with His people. Success is not whether we have seventy-five, a hundred, or even a hundred and fifty today in worship. It’s about this. It’s about knowing Him more. I believe with all my heart that there is a community of believers that know Him more because of our time here. Success is about drawing close to Him and His people. Yet sadly enough the relationships that make a ministry so healthy and meaningful are the very thing that make our last day here hurt the most…

                                                                                                                     July 8, 2010

Eight years. Eight years ago I joined hands with Justin and Melissa West, Suzie Kramer and my bride to embark on the greatest journey of our lives. This journey took us into the community of Green Valley Ranch to pour our hearts and souls into the lives of a people that would bless us abundantly. This journey to plant a new church in Denver, CO would at times wreck me with conviction and bring tears of joy as we witnessed the victory of fathers and mothers coming to know Christ intimately. The countless hours of pouring our lives into the people of HVC and this community have left an indelible mark on my soul. Yet, God has once again moved and with a sovereign and divine hand He calls our family to say goodbye.

I never thought for a second that my heart and future would not be consumed by the life of this precious body of believers. I’ve cried with couples in their homes as they fought for their marriages. I’ve prayed over countless individuals that have stepped out in faith to step onto the mission field as they shared the love of Christ. I’ve counseled people through addiction and hopelessness to see the Holy Spirit move them into a season of freedom and joy. I have been blessed to see the work of a big God take hold of the hearts of mothers and fathers to now see Him ushering their children into the Kingdom of God. We’ve witnessed over a hundred precious souls walk through the waters of baptism. Hope Valley has touched the soils of places such as Fiji, Belarus, Brazil, Mexico, Slovakia, Iraq, and the Samoan Islands. We washed clothes and cooked meals in the heart of New Orleans after tragedy struck. We gave sacrificially when the call came to work with teachers in our schools and families without food. We gave our time every year to take breakfast to the street corners and gifts to the doorsteps of our neighborhoods. Whether it was Christmas or Thanksgiving we saw the smiles of hurting families receive food or gifts when they that thought the holiday would bring hopelessness and fear. Whether it was a free car wash or a simple conversation over coffee God left His fingerprints on one life after another with His grace.

Today as I pack boxes to prepare for the movers that arrive in two days I struggle to really believe this is happening. The question of why has definitely plagued me. I don’t want to go, yet I’m aware of His call that resounds in my soul. My time here is complete yet my heart rests with the friends and families of this dear place. The voices of this place have shaped me and taught me immeasurable principles of truth and love. I’ve learned through countless mistakes what grace looks like by my God and his people. This has been my home. These have been my people. This has been my life.

There is understanding in His Word that proclaims that His ways are not our ways. His desires are not always my desires, yet my heart longs to make His desires my own. I have to grasp the reality that to be called a child of the King means I have to willing to follow Him. I struggle with obedience being greater than sacrifice. I wish my excuses carried more weight, but they simply fall short as they did with Moses standing in the presence of a burning bush. Some might find it trivial that I’m struggling to move to Hawaii to start over with a new people and culture, but those people don’t understand the depth of relationship that I’ve been blessed with. The children that I’ve come to love and see as precious to my own family will grow up with another a pastor. There will be weddings; there will be funerals of people that have been part of my family and my life. Soon there will be another voice speaking into the lives of people that I, like Paul, call spiritual children of mine. They are true trophies of the ministry that God has blessed me with. There are many pastors that have never had the opportunity to truly be loved by their people, I have.

I don’t know who convinced me to give a six week resignation, but I’m now wondering if they had any idea how hard it is to have a long goodbye. Each day holds a different conversation or a moment that speaks to me. I’m thankful for each one, but each one is hard. I wonder how Paul felt each time he left a group of believers that he had pour his life into wondering if he would ever see them again? His letters take on new meaning to me as he wrote to people that he cared so deeply about. I truly believe this is what ministry is all about. This is supposed to be hard. For the pastors out there that leave church after church I’m sad they don’t understand a sadness that should come from their time with a people. My dear friend and co-pastor Kevin Miller has stated several times he’s just sad. Well, I can truly say I understand his heart. Grief is a funny thing. You want to avoid it, but you know deep down you can’t. I don’t want to, but at the same time I do.

Today I write for me, not you the reader. This is part of my grief. As well, part of my joy. I know that what awaits me will bring great hope in who He is and all the while a struggle in the journey itslef. It will be different and I’m thankful for that. I don’t want to replace anything. I want to experience the newness of my God with a new people. People that will have new journey's and yet people that will see a hope renewed in glorious ways. I’m thankful that my God considers me faithful enough to take what I’ve learned here and impart that to a people that are wanting more out of church and life. I’m ready for a new season of life and ministry, but first I must say goodbye….

                                                                                                                    June 16, 2010

I wish I could share what the Lord is doing in me right now. My world continues to be radically changed by His big hand. I'm emotionally spent and physically fatigued. I'm at a place where there is joy in the hurt of letting go of my dreams in order to know His more. I can't explain it all right now simply because there are still so many unanswered questions, but I'm grateful for the move of God in my life.

                                                                                                                    June 4, 2010

There are certain times when our understanding of what God is doing demands more from us than others. It is the grander moments when God is doing a new thing in our spirits and lives that there is excitement and yet trepidation. It's that nagging thought that we were meant for more.  Yet in those defining moments there is a reality that sets in that forces us out of our comfort zones. It makes us examine the comfort of our lives and the ease by which we exist in a Western culture. We preach about it more times than we can count, but actually doing something to address this comfort that dulls our senses to the move of God, well that is a whole other topic. It’s hard. It’s uncomfortable and it’s not part of our natural makeup in my opinion. The question that resonates with me today is what am I made of when things get real?

See when things get real it costs us something. For each of us that something may be different. It may be a way of life or a financial standard of living, homes, reputation, friendships or maybe our idols. In many ways it is those things that we put before God in our lives that cost us intimacy with the King. There are moments when we talk a good game about being fearless and willing to follow God wherever He leads. It’s like Leonardo Dicaprio on the Titanic screaming, “I’m the King of the world!” However, if you notice he screamed that because he was in a place of great comfort. There was no storm; there was no water on the boat. But what are we saying when the water is ankle deep. When our ways of living and doing what we do are placed on the altar of sacrifice, what are saying?

Things can always seem exciting from a distance. A car accident gets our attention from a distance, but no one wants to be in the accident. How do we express our heart when we are moving in pursuit of our King and that pursuit has the potential of changing everything about our lives. Moses was there at the burning bush. Abraham was there with Isaac. The disciples encountered this in that moment with Jesus in the garden. It’s the difference between having head knowledge about God doing a new and glorious thing and actually being in the midst of the new thing itself. I think of Paul and Silas in the prison singing songs and praying before the earthquake or Shadrack, Meshack and Abednego on their walk to the furnace. Or even Daniel before he could smell the lions.

See many people bail on the “real” when it hits to close to home. Many people would rather look at “real” from a distance. They are normal. However, normal never changed the world. I’m not judging those that live in the normal. If I did I would have to admit that I’ve been normal at times in my life as well. I’m talking today about my personal journey to know my God in a personal and intimate place that costs me my idols. I have found a holy discontent in my spirit with normal, today. That doesn’t mean that it won't come roaring back like a race car in the Indy 500 tomorrow. That’s why I hate living by emotion. It changes the heart and distorts the voice of God and yet at times it is the mechanism that God uses to capture the heart of His people. Emotion without the Word of God is a dangerous thing.

Today I want to be in that place that a good friend of mine refers to as the “stupid zone.” It’s that place of living in Christ where we move so far outside the normal that if God doesn’t show up we simply look stupid. It’s in those places that God has the opportunity to be God. It’s where He proves just how big He really is. Many of us never see how glorious our God is cause we see “real” from a distance. I want more from the gifts and purpose He has placed within me. Lord, I’m ready for the “real”…. at least for today.

                                                                                                                     May 10, 2010

Have you ever had to wait on the Lord for something? The silence can be deafening. I know that these seasons produce patience and a hope that do not disappoint, but that doesn’t make the middle of the silence any easier. Isaiah 40:31 tells us, “But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint” and Psalms 27:14 says, “Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart: wait, I say, on the LORD.” Scripture almost makes it sound easy. However, patience has never come easy to the nature of men.

When I find myself having to wait on something I begin to interpret things in a manner that justify my desires. From scripture to casual conversations, perspective is shaped and molded by a selfish nature. The waiting seems to bring its own voice. That’s what makes waiting on the Lord so hard. Over the life of my ministry I have learned that my ways are not always His ways and my timing is defiantly not His either. The hardest part for me in the wait is understanding the heart of my God. It’s the learning to wait upon His desire to be embraced by my own heart that takes its toll. There are those moments that I want to bow my chest out and claim that I have assurance in His way for me, but then He never fails to humble me again.

However, I believe God wants us to know His heart in order for us to understand his desire and will for our lives. Matt. 7:7 "Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.” One of my favorites is Jeremiah 29:13-14, “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart I will be found by you," declares the LORD, "and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you," declares the LORD, "and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile." God’s people have always had a hard time waiting on Him. You can take ten minutes to look at the Israelites to see that forty years in the wilderness had to be excruciating with their short term memory.

So what does the Lord have to do in order to make us depend on Him? Is there any other way in our finite minds to develop a trust and hope in Him outside of waiting? I don’t think there is for me. The only way for me to abandon my personal pursuit for selfish gain and ambition is to be left in a place of waiting. I have to find myself in a place that I can’t fix. My methods of solving problems and my abilities to find answers have to be exhausted in order for my hard head to come to a place of trust in Him. So I wait. The minutes turn to hours and the hours to days. Prayer becomes focused on His heart and not my own. Want becomes dependence and dependence becomes hope. My heart begins to realize that endurance is not about my ability to wait. It’s about being willing enough to wait. It’s in that waiting that I see a hope produced in the knowledge that God is faithful. His faithfulness will endure even when my heart fails. Thank you God for the seasons that call me to wait on You.

                                                                                                                     May 5, 2010

Have you ever heard someone talk about that moment, that season that they journeyed to quote “find themselves”? That thought that we at some point come to an understanding of who we really are in our own eyes. I guess it’s that feeling of becoming comfortable in our own skin. It’s that moment that we don’t see ourselves or establish our worth through the eyes of the world, but our own. Ever remember sitting in eye doctors chair with that piece of equipment on your face that he flips back and forth saying, “Which is clearer, one or two… two or three….” and you’re left to determine your own perception of what looks clear. That’s my perspective on finding myself, but in the manner that I’m flipping God’s lens for that clarity.

It’s a pretty freeing moment to have a clear and Godly perception of yourself. Not for what you look like on the outside, but for who you are. Recognizing that the way you are wired and creatively made is beautiful. It is heart knowledge that my worth is not found in the eyes of others. It is the understanding and peace that at the end of the day my worth is measured by the Creator, not the creation. Psalm 139:14 reads, “I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are Your works, and my soul knows it very well."

If I had to be honest about it though, I sometimes wonder if I have a schizophrenic soul. See, I can’t say that “my soul knows it very well” that I’m wonderfully made. I get what the verse is saying. The context of this verse is the incredible nature of our physical bodies. The human body is the most complex and unique organism in the world, and that complexity and uniqueness speaks volumes about the mind of its Creator. Every aspect of the body, down to the tiniest microscopic cell, reveals that it is fearfully and wonderfully made. But, I’m not content stopping there with that evaluation of this verse. I don’t think it stops at the physical makeup of my cells or the mind blowing realities of the complexity of my brain or eye functions.

In my mind this verse is written by one that has a firm grasp on and for the love of their God. There is an understanding of the relentless pursuit of their God for His people. This author has a grasp on the fact that his God is jealous for him. Exodus 34:14 “for you shall worship no other god, for the LORD, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God.” Exodus 20:5 “For I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God.” Deuteronomy 4:24 “For the LORD your God is a consuming fire, a jealous God.” It’s the knowledge that I’m not random in his eyes. It’s “soul knowledge.” It’s that kind of knowledge that comes when you know that you know that you know the truth of something. It has no shred of doubt in it. It’s that soul knowledge that I’m an intricate part of His design and purpose in a redemptive story. It’s that soul knowledge that I was created for His purpose and His alone.

I want to have a firm grasp of God’s pursuit of me. I want my soul to know it not just well, but very well. The problem at times lies in the fact that my job requires me to come across as someone that has this all nailed down. I’m supposed to be the guy that helps people “find themselves” to some degree. People look to me to figure this stuff out and then teach about it. I struggle to take the time to define myself by who I am and not by what I do. I make those two things synonymous at times. If I were to be honest I would say that my job allows me to hide behind a head knowledge all the while struggling to accept it as heart knowledge. Don’t get me wrong. I’m secure in my soul knowledge that God loves me and that he sent His son to die for me. I’ve received His grace by faith regarding my salvation, but I want to know more than that about my God. I want to find myself in Him. I want to see what He sees in me. I want soul knowledge of the reality that my Father spent time to create my inmost being; and to know He knit me together in my mother's womb. I want to see myself as wonderful because He made me not because of what I do or don’t do. I want to find myself in the journey of knowing Him, not for the sake of knowing me, but Him in me. I want to see myself as someone that gives thanks knowing my worth is based on His work in me, not my own.

                                                                                                                     April 19, 2010

Does it not bring you joy to see how as a Christ follower you continue to see old concepts revealing new truths in your life? I’ve been journeying through the concepts of adoption and adaption for some time now and I continue to land on a single principle in His Word. Proverbs 22:6 communicates, “Train up a child in the way he should go so that when they are old they shall not depart from it." To me personally the heartbeat of this verse speaks to much more than we have traditionally taught. I say that because this was a pivotal verse that continually spoke to the purpose of discipline in the home that I grew up in as a child. It was that verse and the one about some rod that my dad tattooed on my backside most of my childhood. The question that I’m wrestling with now is whether we have chosen for this verse about training to communicate through the lens of adaption verses adoption.

We are what we know in so many ways. We mimic what is modeled and we embrace what is comfortable. What makes us comfortable with this verse in the life of the church and our homes is that it places control and power into the hands of the one doing the training. We assume that the role and responsibility placed on the trainer is much greater than it truly is. Don’t mistake what I’m saying. I do believe there is a responsibility on the trainer, but not for the result of the one being trained.

See, I discipline my children and I teach and model truth to them in ways that constantly feel insufficient to me. I get so angry and frustrated when they, in my eyes, disregard my training. This is partly because I feel responsible for their behavior and I see it as a reflection of my involvement in their life. I always thought I would be that cool dad who was popular with my kids friends. It’s like I was trying to make up for lost time in high school or something. I was making my own groupies. However, once reality sets in and I allow my controlling nature to rise up I begin disciplining in ways that make my children conform to my idea of a model citizen. I want them to act like I act and live like I live. Side note: unity is not found in conformity. My wrestling is found in the true relationship in my role as disciplinarian and the outcome of my training.  I think the church in many ways has mistaken this concept as well with our drive-by-guiltings on our people.

Look at the verse again. “Train up a child in the way he should go…” See I always thought I knew the best way my child should go. My culture tells me as a father that I know best… we had a television show with that title so that must make it truth. In the end though the outcome is based on the direction the Lord has for my child. “The way he should go” is not dependant on my opinions or what I think is best. God has wired my children with passions and giftedness that are not mine. It means I have to begin to trust that through my faithfulness as a trainer that the Lord will produce in them the understanding of His way for them. His way is not always my way. No matter how hard it is to see my children make choices that I would make differently, I have to remember that God has a way planned for them. The same is true in the church. Adoption is admitting that I can only provide care and love, but adaption is assuming my way for a hurting world is better than His way.

If I learn to be faithful with my role then I have to become comfortable and content with His. I don’t want my children to conform or adapt to my will, but His. Adopting those around me means I love them in spite of their actions. That doesn't mean my heart won't break, but adopting means I can’t always control the outcome. It means that I’m waiting with arms wide open when they come to an understanding of His will in their lives. Our desire should be that through consistancy and faithfulness as trainers then His will will not be departed from as they grow older.  My prayer is that the church universal and my own heart will become content with our roles as trainers and that we can let the conformity take place in the relationship between our people/children and their God. Lord help me to trust that in my faithfulness and consistancy your Word will not return void.

                                                                                                                                          April 14, 2010

Have you ever wondered what people within the life of the church would think if they knew the real you? That voice telling you that you wouldn't be welcome if the church uncovered your private sin in a public manner? It's a miserable thing when that shame and guilt creep in telling us that we would be unlovable by God's people if they knew the real us. My struggle lately is that I’m not sure that this emotion isn't more truthful than not. I'm beginning to see that the spirit of restoration inside the local church is a lost art form. I'm beginning to see a spirit in the church that models the difference between adaption verses adoption.

Some of you may not understand that I'm the father of two adopted little boys. Little boys that came to us with needs that were beyond our comprehension at the time. Needs that society would garnish over them with politically correct phrases like "special needs" or "mental retardation." Their vocabulary was delayed and their social skills are inept at times. They don't act the way that a lot of other children act in certain situations. They struggle academically and act out when they get frustrated in ways that scare people who don't understand their demeanor. However, none of those things prevent me from being their dad. None of those things make me shun them when they don't meet expectations. The reality of it all is that I've come to the point of accepting them and their issues. I know I can either embrace them or continue to force something upon them that they don't understand. I can assume that I'm smart enough to modify their behavior when they don't understand that there's a problem to modify.

I see the way people look at them and how at times their treated differently than other children. I see how some people are uncomfortable with them and are fearful of what they may do. I've struggled with this because I want them to be like me. I want them to be accepted. I want them to be noticed for all the right reasons. However, the simple fact of the matter is they may never match up to any of my standards when it's all said and done. The question is, am I alright with that? The answer is yes. See I adopted them. That means I took them to be my own. I didn't simply give them a place to visit or live in; I choose them to bear my name. I invited them to be part of my life and I theirs. I adopted them.

What I’m beginning to learn is that the church is becoming more concerned with the adaption more than the  adoption of a dying and hurting world. We have begun to measure success by how effectively people have adapted to our church cultures more than the effectiveness of our churches at adopting people. In my spirit I see people that are pursuing Christ or on the verge of exploring their desire of Him as children that are in need of a spiritual home. These people are at a point in their spiritual knowledge that they don't understand the need to modify their behaviors. They don't understand their "special needs." They don't call sin, sin. They don't refer to themselves as lost. They don't understand what the Bible says nor do they care for the most part. They simply understand a need to belong and be loved. Everyone wants to be loved. It's a basic and primary need in all of us.

The church culture communicates a mixed message to a world that finds itself on the outside looking in. It says in many ways, "If you want our love then you need to change first." We don't say it like that, but we demonstrate how proud we are of people based on their progress to adapt. We praise their involvement and commend them for their faithfulness, especially tithers. We assume that people that actually "get it" are the people that we invest in the most. Those that struggle to meet our expectations in many ways get placed on the sidelines and in many cases, simply forgotten. We want them to understand the first day in our home that they need to dress differently. They need to talk differently. They need to live differently. And until they do many times they don't receive our love.

The church in my eyes lately has shown the inability to embrace people when they don't meet our expectations. We have experienced epic failure at communicating that personal failure does not cost you our love. We have communicated that failure will cost you your titles, positions and prominence within the family and then cost you your family altogether. We have told people to find new homes because they took too long to adapt, or adapted in different ways than we wanted, or simply fell after we thought they were one of the family. It would break my heart to think that one of my children simply behaves for fear of losing their family. The thought that one of my boys might wake up tomorrow wondering if I was going to give them away because they disappointed me would devastate my world. But honestly, people that find themselves on the outskirts of our Christian community don't capture my heart at all sometimes. People fall through the cracks of our churches daily and many are never thought of again.

I’m not saying that sin issues shouldn’t be issues. I’m saying that sin issues should be understood as sin issues and addressed with restoration in mind, not divorce. I’m saying that unspiritual people shouldn’t be held to standards of the spiritually mature. I’m saying that spiritual infants will act like infants and all the spiritual braw beating in the world won’t cause them to grow any faster in their pursuit of the King. I’m asking the question, “Do we understand that reaching out to a fallen world is messy?” Their lives are filled with chaos and many of their realities don’t have easy answers. They carry deep hurts and wounds that cause them to act out. They don’t play well with others sometimes. They will at times disappoint us, but at the end of the day is our focus on helping people adapt to our church cultures or helping people see that they are adopted by the King? Adoption is not for the faint of heart, but carries some of the richest blessings.  Who have you adopted lately?

                                                                                                                                             April 8, 2010

So I’ve been doing some writing for my own personal benefit, however I haven’t written much for the general public lately. But I return today with some questions that I can’t seem to move beyond in my personal journey as a pastor and follower of Christ. Recently I’ve been finding myself at a point in my spiritual journey that causes me to question the purpose and intent of many different things. Things like parenting, the church, community and my life purpose in Christ.

This past week my attention was captured by local church advertising that came in the mail or was placed on my lawn, (yes, eggs filled with church advertising that were hidden in my lawn). Each piece of information was to promote Easter. You know that time of year where Christians worldwide remember the body and blood that was broken and spilled out for the remission of sins. You know what moment I'm talking about right, that moment in history where Jesus Christ went to the cross to die an unimaginably cruel and brutal death as a sacrifice for all mankind? The moment where Jesus died so I might have new life. Yeah, that moment we call Easter. Well, typically the church planter in me quickly scans the publication to critique and determine how I would have done it differently. It’s a curse that I can’t seem to get beyond. However, over the past couple of weeks my attention was taken by their content more than layout or design. It was the subject matter that our churches were broadcasting about Easter that has me conflicted.

Five different times I saw ads by local churches that communicated to a predominantly unchurched community that Easter was a time to come and join their egg hunts, to jump in the bounce houses, experience the helicopter flying in for the egg drop, or take family pictures with the Easter bunny. Not one ad that I saw spoke the name of Jesus or invited someone to hear about his name. They didn’t mention worship or even hint at a corporate gathering. In my mind this spoke to the core of what our churches were advertising. Not life change, but acceptance. You see advertising is a single component of the marketing process. It's the part that involves getting the word out concerning your business, product, or the services you are offering. These messages about our churches presented a mixed signal to me.

What struck me so deeply is the duplicity of what our churches are offering. As Christians we think through a Christian lens that is geared to filtering things inside a Christian arena: i.e. a church setting or outreach event. However, the unchurched population thinks much differently. I believe the unchurched population sees straight through our shallow advertising ploys and sees our attempts as a bait and switch or spiritual ploy to a deeper agenda. It communicates that the outsider of the local church is unintelligent. My point being… If our attempt to speak the Word of Christ into their lives has to be masked with a cultural icon like the Easter bunny or egg hunts why do we think the Word or testimony of Christ will make any difference at all? If we were to say that simply inviting people to worship with us is not attractive to the general public then how can we not say that a bait and switch mentality is not at play in our churches?

We are admittedly saying that people need some other reason to come and see what Christ is all about in order to find him. Well if that is true what are they really finding? Big events, social activities, day care? Is the church becoming another community organizer that simply promotes opportunities for anyone and all to come and join in? Are we on the same path as a YMCA? We would clamor at that thought and vehemently oppose that assumption, but what if we stopped advertising events like this? Would our churches die? Would we decline in numbers? Many would say yes. They would state that the church must have outreach events such as these to draw people that would otherwise never hear the gospel. My fear with that thinking is our attempt to remove the sovereignty of God. My fear is that we think our egg hunts and Easter pictures are more intrinsic to the gospel message than the gospel itself. (Side note: outreach in my opinion does not happen on our turf. It is the church going to culture to meet them where they are.)

The road we find ourselves on is one of cultural relevance. We debate it left and right. So who wins at the end of the day if our gospel message becomes culturally relevant? It never was and never will be in my opinion. Christ was not culturally relevant nor was he culturally accepted. Why then do we so desperately want our churches to be embraced by the unchurched world? I see an overtly different reality of churches embracing the hurting, bruised, broken, and dyeing world as something totally different than our churches being embraced by that same context. I hear it now that we the church need to be more active and involved in reaching the community! I whole heartedly agree. But by what means? Do we substitute truth with a social gospel? No. Do we shut the door and dwell in our holy huddles? No. Do we make people change before they can be accepted into our churches? No. Do we close out the outside world and simply exist in our own worlds? No. We live the gospel. We teach people what it means to love one another. We model to our people what it looks like to reach out to our hurting neighbors. We demonstrate to a hurting world how we speak into the dark places of life with words of hope. What are we saying by mixing the message of hope and Christ with messages that simply make the gospel of Christ comparative to the Easter bunny?

Teaching people how to share their spiritual journey in Christ is far more relevant and life changing than hosting community gatherings. You’re saying that it takes both, and maybe it does, but for some reason we focus on the latter cause it’s easier. It doesn’t require them to give anything other than time. It doesn’t cost them anything. Teaching our people to live outreach is hard. So at the end of the day we teach our people that the church needs another event in order for them to do outreach. We are deceiving our own people into thinking they can’t effect a lost world without the church. We are called to make disciples, plain and simple. What are we doing?

Next on the writing schedule… parenting and the journey it has shown me.

So this past couple of weeks my wife had eye surgery for a retinal detachment that had become pretty severe. She had begun to lose sight in her eye about six months ago in which she simply felt was due to the need for a new prescription for her glasses. Little did she know that her loss of sight was a signal by something much greater that was leading to long term blindness. This loss of sight left unattended would have taken her vision permanently. Fortunately after undergoing surgery to correct the problem her sight will return over the next week or so.

What grabs my attention in this matter is the reality that many of us on our spiritual journeys to know Christ have been losing sight for quite a while with very little concern in the matter. Don't get me wrong, we have been doing many good things. We have been working with children, we have fed the homeless, we have fellowshipped with other believers, we have shared our faith, and we have prayed for one another... we have done a lot of good things. Here in lies my problem. Many have begun to see their works as a greater end than the relationship with the One that created us to do the work. It's a matter of what we have perceived as true vision verses true relationship.

Scripture reveals many that had the potential to confuse the two. Moses got so wrapped up in the work of delivering God's chosen people to the Promise Land that he forgot what the power of a Devine God looked like and allowed his efforts to steal the day. Thus, struck a rock at great price and forgot to consult the one that gave him the vision of leading the people in the first place. David, stayed behind during a time of war and allowed his eye to be captured by a women bathing and lost sight of the God that gave him his wide spread influence. Losing his vision of the relationship he had with God led to great consequence and sin. Adam and Eve walked with the Lord in the cool of the morning, but lost their spiritual sight because of a desire that took God out of His rightful place in their lives. Elijah lost his sight because a woman with a power trip threatened his life after he called fire down from heaven to address the prophets of bail. Jonah, Jacob, Rachel... the list goes on.

Vision doesn't enable our service for God. Vision is not what replaces the voice of God. Vision is what draws us into a deeper understanding of who God is and His desires for our life. When Moses saw the burning bush he caught a glimpse into the character of God as a deliverer.  He didn't get the entire plan and blueprint of what God was calling him to do.  We have taken what we understand to be vision and made it our road map for action and methods. We tell people that vision is our plan and in the back of our minds we think our plan prevents the people from perishing. I think it's quite the contrary. Our vision is clearest when our sights are on the heart of God. I believe the clearer I see the character of my God the more understanding I have in His ways.

My wife had to lie in bed for seven days for her eye to heal. She had to lie still on her face for that length of time in order to regain her sight. It reminded me that sometimes we have to stay still long enough to abandon our own visions in order to gain His vision. I heard how the doctor cut away at the surface of her eye in order to burn the tears in her retina to bring healing. When my sight and vision is focused on Him is when I see that my dreams and my pride are burned away at the sight of a Holy God. Lord, give me my vision back....

I spent so much time this week walking around the premise of what God's Word had for me. I was trying to establish a channel or message that would communicate how people could connect with God through prayer. All week I've struggled to formulate an outline or direction for that topic, but I wasn't willing to abandon that topic as I knew my heart was focused on prayer.

Did you ever have a parent come in your room as a child and tell you to get up, it's time for school. Only to have them come back again in ten minutes, but speak with more authority. If you were a kid in the house I grew up in, there was no third time if you catch my drift. Tone spoke volumes. Well, the Lord came in for a second time this morning while I was in the shower. I could tell this wasn't the first time He tried to get my attention on the matter. I think it was a tone issue. This whole week I was concentrating on how to teach people to pray and talk with the Father. It simply never occurred to me that He wanted me to talk about Him speaking to us.

I caught it last night about 1:15. Four hundred and thirty-five times in the book of Exodus and Leviticus you read the phrase, "Then the Lord spoke to Moses". I was trying to draw the connection as to how Moses attained that kind of intimacy with the Father. Then, while I was shampooing my hair... it dawned on me, he didn't. The Father attained it with him.

Through circumstance and hardship Moses was forced to draw from the Father. He had no other place to turn. He couldn't do it alone nor was there anyone in his life that could have helped him lead these ancient day rednecks. God was speaking to Moses and Moses had the privilege to respond. Moses didn't initiate the burning bush, pillar of fire, pillar of smoke, conversation on Mount Sinai or the manna and quail. Exodus 31 says it well, "When He had finished speaking with him upon Mount Sinai, He gave Moses the two tablets of testimony". God was pursuing Moses. We have spent so much time figuring out how we are to pursue Christ and at times we have failed to emphasize just how much He is pursuing us.

The Midnight Hour... 6/26/2006

I wept tonight. I wept in the arms of my wife over the life of a little boy. Our little boy. A little boy that was born into distress and placed by God into our home to be called my own. A little boy that was created by a big God, an awesome God, who knit together and knew him in the womb of a women I may never meet. At 11:49 tonight I came to an understanding of Acts 16:25. Midnight is the darkest hour of the night.

Today will forever remain in my mind. I'm sure over time I will remember it in ways that carry much different emotions than those that I feel right now. You see, today my wife and I sat down in a small room around a diminutive round table with a bright young geneticist from Childrens Hospital. I walked into this setting with a confidence, an heir that communicated outwardly that I was prepared for what I was going to hear. I was wrong.

About twelve weeks ago I held my son tightly in my arms as three physicians carefully drew blood from his pale little arm. As he cried for daddy to make them stop I whispered in his ear, "everythings gonna be alright, daddy has you." What neither of us understood in that moment was the purpose and scope of what they were testing for. I heard the term Fragile X, but that meant very little to nothing in my mind. I thought ADD or some hyper-activity disorder because we had already realized that this little guy was developing slower than most two year olds.

Before we ever came to the understanding and commitment to adopt these two little brothers we were aware of certain issues that this little champ was battling. We knew there were global delays in his abilities and skill sets. I had simply attributed all his setbacks to the neglect and abuse that he survived over the first two years of his life. But there was more to it, more than I wanted to hear or believe.

As the doctor began to tell Heather and I about their findings I felt a stripe across my back. Not a literal stripe, but an emotional one that cut deep. For three hours I sat there in a mental defiance of what I was hearing. These words left my soul feeling empty, beaten, scared like some dark, miserable and lonely prison. We were told our son would never be normal. That he would never be like other children. He would never be able to live an independent life of his own. That children like him would make great team managers, but never be able to be on the team. Hearing the words that my son would never be able to follow in my footsteps as a pastor or teacher left me broken.
I wept tonight. Not for me, but for this little gift that God sovereignly desired to place in my home for me to love. I can't wrap my mind around it. Honestly, I dont want to. I don't want to think of his limitations. At this moment I don't want to come to grips with the definitions and phrases of mental retardation and Special Olympics that doctors or science place on his future. All I know is God receives the glory.

Philippians 4:4-7, Ephesians 5:20, 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 call me to join Paul and Silas in their midnight hour and rejoice. I don't feel like singing, but I'm sure they didn't either. I dont know how to get out of this prison and neither did they. I know I'm right where God wants me in order for Him to receive the glory. This earthquake seems more real than a physical shaking of my surroundings. It hurts. But I don't want this to be about me, even though I know I'm intimately interwoven with this child that I call Son. I don't want this to be about some genetic deficiency that robs one of their mental capacities. I don't want this to be about what changes this places on our home, family or marriage. I want people to know Christ through this. I want people to see the glory of God through the smile of a blonde haired, brown eyed little boy that God has a plan for. I want people to see a big God, an awesome God. Somewhere in this I want to rejoice.

I wept tonight and yet through my tears and my emotion I heard my Father saying, "Everythings gonna be alright, Daddy has you."