Appreciation

October is pastor appreciation month.  Did you know that?  You might not if you don't operate within the evangelical church world or listen to christian broadcasting of some kind.  Even then, you might miss it.

It seems a little awkward for pastors.  It’s awkward because while we expect and trust that pastors serve out of a sense of divine and selfless calling, it’s humanly nice to be appreciated by others.  They are likely (and politely so) not going to remind you of the occasion themselves.  

Well, some might… but that’s another topic.

I have a tremendous amount of appreciation for my own pastor! 

I hope he knows that.  I try to remember to tell him personally.  I pray for him and the others of my church often, and every time they come to mind unexpectedly.  As I have done so, I have discovered a shift in the nature of my appreciation.  So should you… if your appreciation is seated in anything other than your personal witness of your pastor following closely to Jesus and being led by the Holy Spirit.  

It’s easy to rest our appreciation of them in how their role has served us personally instead of them serving a Holy God.  Is it not true that our appreciations most likely begin with how they pastor in ways that directly impact us personally?  In how they meet our needs; If, how, or when they speak to us; how we perceive their teaching?  If it ends there, our appreciation is rather shallow and perhaps reflective of our own superficiality and carnality.  

This is not to say those elements are unimportant.  They are.  In fact, I would argue they are a base level of pastoral ministry in the local church.  But, if our observation and appreciation ends there, we are short sighted and neglect the exploration of how God himself is working. What a shame.

I am more appreciative and aware of how God is using my pastor, and as a byproduct, the staff and church body themselves, than ever before.  I can only conclude it is because of the adjusted heart within me and opened eyes with which God has given me to see the layers of His work in our context more clearly… the layers of God’s work, that is.  I am overwhelmed - truly overwhelmed by what I’ve seen and experienced.

Being overwhelmed by the layers of God’s movement allows us to appreciate the vessels of His work more accurately.  It’s not unlike being overwhelmed when the Lord uses us in our day-to-day function as ambassadors of His name and purposes - a desire for his flock that any pastor worth his calling also holds.  When it happens to us personally in our own lives, we recognize firsthand that the true magnificence is that God would opt to use any of us at all.

Today is the last day of official “Pastor Appreciation Month”.  Don’t forget to appreciate your pastor, and pray for God to move through his calling… and yours.

A Few Awful Things About My Mom...

1. She wouldn't let my teachers punish me by assigning hand-cramping, repetitive, pointless lines, but instead made me write papers about honoring God and personal obedience.

2.  She only let me ride my bike from corner to corner when all my neighborhood friends got to go around the corner and vandalize property.

3.  She made me save my money when I was younger forcing upon me the opportunity to pay cash for my first [and second] car.

4.  She made me learn the responsibility of a part time job to pay for my own gas and insurance.

5.  She made me watch my tone and mouth causing me to have to show verbal respect for others.

6.  She made me embarrassingly apologize to others when I wronged them.

7.  She made me play outside in spite of the fact that the grass was green, the sky was blue, and the sun was shining. 

8.  She made me miss school for weeks at a time for educational vacations instead.

9.  She spanked me.

10.  She made me do things I was capable of doing myself.

11.  She was NOT my friend.

12.  She made me talk good... I mean, use proper grammar.

13. She made me think for myself.

Oh... and by the way, Mom is an author.
If you're a reader and like suspense, she'd love for you to click the link below and check out her work.

 Shadow in the Wind

Happy Mothers Day, Mom. Thanks for training me up. I love you.

Thank You

Four years ago, my wife and I stood encircled by a prayerful and eager congregation of God’s people as we were welcomed into a new role of ministry.  I still remember the chatters and whispers of verbal prayers around us as the worship service closed that day.  I remember walking away realizing that was the first time I had experienced prayer support within earshot of so many audible voices at once, and with such overwhelming intensity.  I’ll never forget it.  Thank you for that.

Yesterday morning, once again encircled, suppressing my fear, holding back tears, and standing solo as a brokenly married man, I experienced a similar, but altogether different experience as the conclusion of my vocational church ministry ended with an exit of prayer.

It's difficult to choose words sometimes.  I know in my head that “ended” isn’t right, but at the moment, that is the way it feels.  Even the word “exit” implies finality, and I know…  again, in my head… finality isn't correct either.

I know that God seeks to use all of us within the framework and capacities of our “living life”, but what I’ve known and done as a vocational minister is pretty much all I’ve known and done.  That HAS been my life to live.  Living a new one seems too foreign at the moment.  It’s hard to see beyond the immediate.

But this post is intended to be a thank-you, so…  thank you.  Thank you for the prayers.  Thank you for the constant texts and messages of encouragement.  Thank you for the seemingly random texts of scripture that came at the most appropriate times.  

Thank you for the lunch meetings, dinner invites, phone calls, unexpected visits, and help with my children that have been so freely offered.  Thank you for the encouragement I have received from those who have been willing to tell me how you’ve reached out to Jennifer with prayers, calls, and texts.  Thank you for the way I’ve seen people love on my children in ways that they will never forget, and I will always cherish… they still need that, by the way.  All of us do.

Thank you for the leadership of our church and the way they have helped me walked through such a difficult matter, that is still very much… a matter.  Thank you for the willingness of those to rise and stand in the gaps of ministry that must be filled.  You are still needed desperately, and your service will not be without great impact upon children and their families.

Thank you to those who still choose to call me “Brother” Todd.  Titles have never been important or necessary to me, but the affection with which I have heard those words has rung sweetly in my ears over these last months.

Thank you to those who have opened up to me with your own personal struggles, challenges, and histories.  I KNOW that you probably wouldn't have, except for the knowledge of our own family difficulties.  With that, I am thankful for the new lessons in ministry that I’m learning.

Thank you to the voices of wisdom and guidance.  Some of you are within our church; some are long time friends; some, ministry colleagues; and others… professional voices of therapy.  Thank you for the many offers of others to just sit and listen if needed.  Thank you for the job suggestions and links to opportunities that have been sent my way.

Thank you for the willingness to give a leave of absence for the pursuit of healing and repair.  Thank you for time of transition.  Thank you for the generosity of individuals, usually anonymous; and especially to the church body as a whole for your expressions of love yesterday. 

Thank you to my far off friends.  Though separated by time or distance, you have felt comfortable to reach out with prayers, encouragement, and ways to be helpful.  God has placed you each in our lives for every one of these current moments.

Thank you to those who seek the truth, and are bold enough to ask questions.  Light dispels darkness.  It always has... it always will.

My life verse is 1 Timothy 1:12.  It is truly the most significant thanks of all.  It reads “I thank him who has given me strength, Christ Jesus our Lord, because he judged me faithful, appointing me to his service."

Again, thank you.

Survive

For several years now, I have been in the practice of seeking the Lord for a literal word for each new year.  This word serves as somewhat of a guide for my year, and the framework of my spiritual thinking, ministry, and soul care.  I usually start praying around November, and listen for the Lord to reveal it to me by the beginning of the coming year.  

Last year my word was actually a number - “12”.  There were several instructions included with that word, but the most significant was that He clearly told me He wanted me to begin consistently walking at least twelve minutes each day.  These twelve minutes were the beginning of a new prayer experience with Him that would ultimately evolve into two mile walks almost daily.

The first half of those walks was me talking to the Lord, and the second half was me quietly listening - sometimes arguing.  God told me more, comforted me more, and gave me more instructions on those walks than any other experiences of my praying.  I’d like to say it is astounding.  But, because I believe God has no trouble communicating Himself to His people, I should not be surprised when He does.  To be surprised by God's interactions only exposes the infrequency of my paying attention.

I didn’t realize it at the beginning, but God would ultimately have me only walk all year long.  As a runner who absolutely loves running, being restricted to only walking is sobering.  But through that, God carried me to a different level of relationship with Him beyond anything I have experienced before, and ultimately became a huge catalyst to my personal obedience to Him while facing extremely difficult tests, and significant life choices. 

But, on to this year...

This past November I was less focussed on the practice of discovering my word, and am now into March still wondering what my word for this year should be.  I think it's the word “survive”.  If it is, I’m not sure I like it so much.  I don’t find much encouragement in it.  “Survive what?” becomes the obvious first question in my mind, and "through what?" becomes the second.  I guess those two questions are actually the same.  Either way, I’m not sure I want to know the answers.  

I DO know this, God has allowed me to be a surviver before… more than once.  Perhaps all the looming questions of “why” in those occasions will be answered in this one.  Perhaps those times have been preparations for now.

Also, “survive” feels like such an independent word.  It feels self-reliant.  In fact, I automatically think of the show “Survivor” and how winning requires being able to outwit, outplay, and outlast.  Self reliance is contrary to God’s call to be fully dependent on Him.  I’ve spent the last several months trying to fight the urge to humanly outwit, outplay, and outlast the trials before me. It is taxing.

Then I think about Job losing all he had in the testing of his faithfulness… 

and Joseph in an Egyptian jail from the testing of his integrity… 

and Gideon oppressed by the Midianites tested in his courage… 

I realize their “survival” was fueled by their dependance on God alone, and the solidity of His word.  Each of them found themselves overwhelmed by circumstances out of their control.  Each of them acted on God’s word in ways that confounded those closest to them.  Each of them must have wondered, in the darkness and loneliness of sleepless nights, what in the world was going on.  Surely they questioned God’s processes! Surely they had moments of doubt! Surely they had moments of depression!  Yet… they DID survive.  

In each of their stories, God sustained them in their darkest moments.  He redeemed all that seemed doomed.  It’s what God does for those who seek Him with all their hearts, and He is glorified in the process.  He sustains as we endure.  Hey… endure is another word for survive.  How about that?  

So is persevere… 

and continue… 

and persist… 

and remain…  

Yep.  I think my word for 2018 just might be “survive”.

Brittle Faith

Recently I heard a preacher say that when Jesus beckoned Peter out on the water, Peter was “literally stepping out onto the word of God.”  

What an amazing way to describe the substance of our faith in Jesus.  Not only faith for our eternity, but faith to live a life that is wrapped up in His word of truth.  That everything He is, transcends all matter, time, and space.  That every response to every calling of God is a stepping out upon His word - His substantial word that trumps all things natural and super.  How can it be?

The greater question for me, is how can I so often not trust that truth and recognize that reality.  How is it that, like Peter, even literally standing on the power of His word, I still stand distracted, and let such distraction thwart my faith in that power?  A power that I know from first hand experiences exists.  A power that I know has been the foundation of so many things in my faith walk.  A power, that even though Peter began to sink while standing upon, still existed as Jesus stood there and walked over to retrieve his submerging body.

As Jesus did so, I imagine that nothing about the conditions changed, only that Peter was then holding the literal hand of Jesus.  You know, that seems a little too clean and delicate for the occasion… maybe Jesus hoisted him up into a fireman’s carry and walked over to the boat.  Or maybe, in a zero-point-energy “Incredibles” moment he used merely a finger and flew him like a kite.  However He did it, in my opinion, Peter went backwards.

Peter, walked on water untouched by Jesus physically.  He was experiencing in his relationship what we all can, and should experience now in our personal 21st century walk of faith.  Peter had the training wheels of Jesus in the flesh, but he got an enormous taste of the level of faith walk Jesus expected of him; his counterparts; and expects of those who follow today.

My faith is brittle in many areas.  I am more aware of that today than I ever realized was true.  God has allowed me to sink beneath several distracting waves of life, in my own way of life.  I’m still not sure what to do with it all, but this I know - God’s work in the current circumstances of my life has been such that all options for me have been removed EXCEPT to simply trust Him.  To call out to Him.  To reach out to Him.  No!  Actually, to be embraced by him.

As I reflect on the story of Peter walking on water, I can’t help but wonder if he made it just far enough away from the boat that he was unable to effectively reach or swim back as he sank.  That’s an important point to me.  As it turns out, my brittle faith has been exposed by the removal of my personal securities.  When Jesus draws us to himself… when He beckons us to step out on His word, its a drawing away from all our safeties.  I know that.  I’ve preached that.  I’ve taught that.  I’m not sure I have been forced to test that fully until now.  I’m not sure I am yet passing the test either - but that's for another blog.  

To what Jesus beckons us all, is the solid, trustworthy, supernatural, foundation of his word alone... but, it is also AT His word alone.  Strangely, that is where I fear I’m failing - taking Him at His word.  And it's funny... what kind of faith is it that believes I can breathe under the water of my doubt? 

Deep Breath

The heart that I’ve sown has grown into granite, 

chiseled and sealed off while taken for granted.  

It lies. Desperately wicked. Slabbed in the morgue.

The reaper does come... 

And with no remorse.

The reaper.  A creeper.  A sinister finisher.  

I just don’t believe this is how he has finished her.  

Nuptial time lapse as everything flaps in the winds of his hurricane, 

with “wins” that bring more pain... strain... and no refrain.  
Nothing gained.  But in the eye it’s calm, yes?

Calm like Cain.

 Moral setback.  Mortal combat.
I just want her to come back.  
Instead it’s like stand back, 
while I try to just get back, 
most times I just fall flat, 
and I’m down on the wrong track.  
I wait on a train to roll over the pain.  
It’s inception.  It feels so insane.  
Meanwhile the flames… 

Oh the flames.

Burning every green tree, and dead tree in my head scene, 

and I can’t seem to tread clean through all the debris.  

Pushing my way through, from the south to the north, true… 

I never know what to do.  And, the pride. 

Yes, the pride, too. 

But the pride is all gone and the fall has begun, 

as the fog falls upon everything that I've spun.  

Is the fog from the bliss?  Is it smoke?  Is it mist?  

It’s blinding me nevertheless,
I don’t even know what I’ve missed. 

Take a deep breath.

Until my lungs swell there’s no way to tell… 

and the Spirit says "just breathe me in".  

Yes, the Spirit says I must breathe Him in.

In spite of that call, instead of the draw,
my breath is held still, once again.

What sin. 

God's Got This

I am afraid.

As I spend time living a new normal in a transitional period of life beyond anything I ever imagined, I find myself very afraid.  I am not supposed to be.  I am not supposed to be afraid of my future.  I am not supposed to be afraid of my circumstances.  I am not supposed to be afraid of anything at all, because as they say, “God’s got this”.  It feels like I’ve said those words a million times, myself… to others.

I reflect.  

As I tumble in the raging current surrounding me, I have said "God's got this" about nine-hundred-ninety-nine-thousand times less.  It’s funny how answers come easy... for someone else. Oh how they quickly spill out.  But, for me... from inside... for myself... not so.

I am still reflecting.

I learn.

"God's got this" is true for whatever we are going through, at any given time.  Those words spoken to us by others are true even if we feel jaded by them.  I am not jaded, by the way; I am a man discovering the easier yoke and lighter burden Jesus is claiming.  I'm learning it the hard way.

I am still learning.   

I long.

I long for more experiences of the evidential truth that God has a hold of what I am going through.  The few times I have said “God’s got this” in my swirling current, have been times of confirmation in response to His revelations, not just advance speculations.  Funny, just yesterday I experienced it again in my most pointed conversations.

I am still longing.

I pray.

I remain afraid, but it’s different.  When "God's got this" it should be different.  As I experience the revelations of God, and discover His responses in the specificity of my praying, I become increasingly frightened - frightened in a reverent, “fear of the Lord”, kind of way.

I am still praying.

I fear.

Since truly "God's got this”, I must guard against the misplacement of my fear.  In fact, my fear belongs to Him too.  Can my fear itself become an idol?  Yes!  And since “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom”, it proves to be a foolish one.