I’ll take ‘Kids in the Class’ for a thousand, please…

When I was doing student ministry, I always had that kid who would pre-fill in the blanks of a lesson before or while I was teaching.  I generally found it annoying because that same student would come up to me afterward with a gloating spirit and announce how well they nailed it.  There is always one in a group, right?

My son is now that one, except for the gloating - I won’t let him get away with that.

My son attends Men’s Bible Study with me every Thursday morning.  When he first started attending he saw me trying to fill in the blanks in advance [yes, I’m aware of the irony and hypocrisy of my aforementioned disdain].  Anyway, we pre-fill the blanks together now, which makes it another father-son activity.  We sit down at the table and immediately start to fill in the blanks from a contextual conclusion of the the points while we wait for our pastor to begin and teach us through the outline.  Sometimes we nail it, sometimes we simply have a synonymic difference in the words, and other times we miss it all together.

At first I felt that I was leading him astray by not only letting him distract himself with the game, but outright engaging in competition with him.  After all, I know from experience how that can be a student pastor irritation, but I’ve changed my mind.  I actually encourage it now, and if I’m ever again in the environment where there is that “one”, I might just point it out as an example of learning and critical thinking.

Here’s why:

• First, it means he is reading the outline.  The blanks rest within the main takeaways that are intended for him to not only read, but remember.  He has to read them to fill in the blanks.

• Second, it means he is thinking critically and contextually.  He is using his own knowledge and frame of reference to deduce the possible answers before filling in the blank.  Thinking is always good.

• Third, he is listening and paying attention.  In order to “grade” himself, he has to listen for the answers and either feel a certain amount of credibility, or strikethrough his answers and correct them.  Listening and paying attention is what any presenter wants of his audience.

• Fourth, he is processing the information.  As the answers are revealed, he processes his conclusions with the correct answers contrasting his own reasoning with that of the instruction.  Processing is good because it leads to application, and personal application is what any Bible teacher wants of the listener.

As far as I’m concerned, my kids can be “that kid” from now on.  As long as they don’t become bratty and arrogant about it, they can pre-fill all the answers they want.  Now, if I can just get them to answer in the form of a  ___________ , they will be just like me.

The Thought that Counts

Not long ago my sweet wife slipped up beside me, extended her arm around me, and gently stated that she did not want me to concern myself with trying to get her a valentine’s gift this year. 

Her statement has nothing to do with a lack of desire to receive one, but everything to do with a tighter budget these days.  Since she handles the finances in our home, it is extremely difficult to buy her anything without her knowing.  I have to be a creative opportunist.

It gave me tremendous pleasure to respond by saying too late, baby - I already have.  Her expression of surprise was everything I hoped it would be.  

One of the things I have been trying to do is stay ahead of the game when it comes to seasons of gifting with my wife.  I have a tendency to think of things along the way to give her, and then let whatever day is approaching approach without having acted upon the intentions of my heart.

This year I bought her a card immediately following New Years.  I was strolling solo through a store and saw the cards had just been put out.  My first thought was ‘I’ll catch it later, I've still got plenty of time’.  Fortunately, my next thought was ‘Hey, I’ve got first pickings if I get it now’.

Truth be told, I’m not a fan of cards; at least as a giver anyway.  I never seem to find the card that says exactly what I feel.  Part of that could be from waiting until all that is left are cards “from the both of us” or “to a super 7 year old”.  The rest of the cards are damaged, shuffled out of place, and I’m usually standing there looking with 8 other people in a shopping space made for three.  But that day, with time, urgency and an un-plundered card rack on my side, I found a great card.  It’s just enough cute, not too much flower, a little glitter, and most importantly, the words within are perfect.

My wife’s love language is most certainly gifts, nothing major mind you, but gifts nonetheless.  She loves unexpected little happpies full of thoughtfulness, so while getting the card I went ahead and picked up a few things to go with it; It has all been hidden in my office for weeks now… except the card.  I realized on Friday, February 13th that I couldn’t find it when I began wrapping and packing.

It turns out the card was in my backpack all this time and now it looks like it’s been crammed in the typical junk drawer for the last two years.  It is bent, discolored, missing glitter in spots, and has a stain that appears to be a drop of coffee on one of the corners.  How could I let this happen? Everything else is so perfect and now I have to scavenge through leftover cards on Valentine’s eve... again.  I feel like such a bottom feeder.

As I sat at my desk reading and re-reading the card I finally decided that she will love it anyway.  It's a risk, but if there was ever a moment when the thought counted more, this is it.  My wife likes a great story, and this will be sweet to her.  She’ll like the fact that I bought it so early.  She will be impressed, but not surprised by my creative wrapping job, and when she opens the tattered, coffee stained card in bewilderment, she will appreciate the words within and ultimately include that card with other keepsakes.

We have spent over twenty valentine’s days together, and there is no card on earth that can truly capture how I feel about that or all that she means to me.  She is my one true love - always has been, always will be.  She is my valentine.

Relieved by Love

One of the things I try to do when I visit nursing homes, is take my daughter with me.  I checked Karis out of school early yesterday to go with me because she is the best visiting partner I have ever had.  Her specialty; nursing homes and assisted living centers.

There is no way to fully describe how pleasant she is with the aged.  She makes me the best nursing home minister on the planet just by standing next to me.  She can’t help but smile everywhere she goes, so when she walks in the room, the residents light up with glee.

Besides smiling, she holds hands, hugs necks, lets her face be kissed, and has even prayed with a lady once.  She never hides behind me or outside the room regardless of how scary or gruff someone may seem.  She has never been grossed out by awkward smells or unpleasant sights, and she always takes time in the hallway to speak to the unexpected person sitting lonely in the doorway of their room.  

Never have I seen her so much as flinch when spoken to by someone out of their mind and unintelligible.  Neither has she ever laughed when asked the same question 4 times by Alzheimer patients - she simply takes it all in stride and asks me about the details later.  My seven year old daughter has a ministry gift that sets her apart even at her young age.  It really is impressive.  

Yesterday I watched as she met someone new.  A group of ladies were sitting in the lobby looking out the window when we stopped by.  One of the ladies saw Karis and immediately reached out for her to come close.  She scooped her into her arms holding her tightly like a doll and telling her over and over how much she loved her.

This was probably the most uncomfortable of contexts I have seen my daughter experience.  With shaking hands the lady stroked Karis’ hair and touched her face repeatedly while telling her she loved her - It actually weirded me out a little.  Before letting her go she looked her in the eyes and with an almost begging plea asked Karis if she loved her.  “Do you love me?  Do you love me, too?  Do you love me?” she repeated.  Karis said “yes, I love you” just as matter of fact as she would her own mother.

That woman released her in tremendous relief and with tears in her eyes rested back in her chair telling everyone nearby that that sweet little girl loved her.  Watching my daughter fearlessly bless others the way she did makes me one proud daddy.

As I have reflected upon the experience, two specific things came to mind.  One is that we as parents must sensitize ourselves to the giftedness and uniqueness of our children, and be wise enough to cultivate the richness of the soil for them to grow and thrive.  I believe this is a large part of the responsibility expressed in Proverbs 22:6 which reads “train up a child in the way he should go, even when he is old he will not depart from it”. 

Secondly, regardless of age, condition, background, or circumstances, we all want to be loved.  I don’t know what that lady’s story is or why she so desperately needed to hear that from Karis yesterday, but I do know what I saw in her face and body language the moment she heard it.  It was peace and rest.

May we all strive to be a blessing to those around us.

Beer, Boogers, and a Boy

“Hey, Karis’ dad!!!  Do you drink beer?  My dad drinks a lot of it!” were the words I first heard from the mouth of one of the first grade boys my daughter knows.  It almost sounded like an invitation.

I have lunch at school with Karis about every two weeks.  During each visit this same kid finds his way to where we are sitting - It’s a miserable experience, truly.  Few children push my buttons the way this little fellow does.  Everything he does irritates me and gets under my skin.  He’s the kind of kid I’m glad is not mine.  Although, if he were mine, I feel confident he would behave quite differently.  

Karis and I don’t sit in the same place each time because there are no assigned seats except the detention table.  I’m a little confused as to why this other kid doesn’t have to sit there instead… at least sometimes.  We could sit at the parents visiting table off to the side, but Karis likes for me to sit with her and her friends.  I’ve discovered I’m a bit of a celebrity with the 1st grade class - that’s fun.

So far I’ve seen this kid pick his nose and show his loot to everybody at the lunch table.  I’ve seen him stick those same boogery fingers in his chocolate pudding to eat it and then pass the container around for others to partake in the common cup of chocolatey delight.  At least he’s sharing, right?!?  I told Karis to never take any food from that kid, just politely decline.

Speaking of polite, he burps all the time.  Not just once or twice, it is a constant process that gets louder and louder to an eventual climactic belch of cataclysmic proportions. These belches are usually in someone’s face followed by his laughter.  I am starting to wonder who his dad is, I have a feeling I am experiencing the “mini-me” version.

This kid uses chocolate milk as the catalyst for his belching show.  Today he got snot on the milk container which  he surprisingly considered gross and caused him to spit milk back out.  It landed in the tray section containing his mac and cheese.  The girl next to him eventually asked him if he was going to eat it and before I could stop her, she had her share of the rich, chocolatey, snotty, cheesy goodness.

I tried to ignore him.  Surely he would stop belching if I ignored the activity, right? Not a chance.  He got louder and louder and then ultimately threw a piece of ham at me.  OKAY, THAT”S IT!!!!! Look here you little punk… 

I’m kidding, I don’t respond to little kids that way.  Besides, the truth is everything he is doing is to gain attention.  Clearly he is starving for it.

I asked Jennifer if she met the belcher the day she had lunch with Karis, but she didn't.  I can’t believe it.  He is there every time I go, loud and obnoxious.  I can’t believe she didn’t experience him.  Then it hit me.  This kid is not starving for just any attention, he is in desperate need for good male attention.  His activities are things he wants me to be impressed with.  His activities are things for which he wants male approval.

I don't know what his story is, but the next time I go I need a strategy.  I plan to figure something out besides sharing a beer with this kid.  Something tells me that is already happening in his life.

My Resolution Revolution Revelation

So far, I have kept the New Year resolutions I made.  It’s January 30, that is a record!

I am especially excited about having kept the one I made to not yell at people.

I don’t yell at everybody, just the people I love the most.  Very few people have actually heard me yell in the way I am referring.  Its a yell of frustration or anger, and is usually in my house or car.  It occurs at times when my own frustration has mounted too high and I have not focussed on dismantling it.  

To be extremely specific, it mostly occurs when I have allowed time to get the best of me and I am yelling for everyone to get in the car or bed.  I can be VERY loud.  Like, causing the sweet little girls (and even boys) in my house to cry, loud.  Scary loud.  Let’s just understand that short of unexpected amnesia, my children will never be able to say “All my life I never heard Dad raise his voice to us”.  Nope, that ship has sailed.  They've heard it.  They probably need a T-shirt to commemorate the experience... or counseling.

It’s easy to say yelling comes with having children, especially as the family gets larger, but it is far more personal than that for me. It is reactionary.  It is also mostly ineffective, and a bit like the dad in “The Croods” - totally mindless.

This year I resolved to approach moments of frustration and anger differently.  I decided to take a mental step back, assess the situation, and keep my voice in check.  It has not been easy.  It has required much personal resolve and even more prayer.

It has come with significant accountability.  My kids know I have made this resolution.  I know they sit and wonder if I am about to pop, but so far, no.  On occasion they will tell me they think I am close and then follow that with an encouragement about the great job I am doing.  Sometimes they even say they would understand if I did yell at them.  I am starting to think they have made a secret challenge out of it for themselves.

What has been amazing to me [besides the fact that I have actually kept my resolution] is that my actions have redirected the actions of our home.  I have discovered that there is less yelling overall in the house by others, and the general intensity in the face of my kids' own conflicts or misbehavior has lessened.  That is incredible!

Actually, it’s proverbial.

• A man of wrath stirs up strife, and one given to anger causes much transgression. - 29:22

• A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. - 15:1

• A hot-tempered man stirs up strife, but he who is slow to anger quiets contention. - 15:18

• Make no friendship with a man given to anger, nor go with a wrathful man, lest you learn his ways and entangle yourself in a snare. - 22:24

Children learn what they live, and they will embrace for the themselves the things we simply tolerate.  I want them to learn the right things from me, and modeling is a wonderful teacher.  My kids may never be able to say they haven’t heard me raise my voice at them, but hopefully they will be able to say they remember the year I stopped doing so.  When they do, I hope they shout it as loud as they can.

Feels Like Home

Home is one of my favorite places.  In fact, it is certainly my absolute favorite place.  Everything on earth that truly matters to me is there.  Everything that reflects the attributes of God is represented by the people and relationships there.  Home is where I find unmatched safety.  Home is where I find the purest form of unconditional love(X 6).  Home is where I am most vulnerable.  Home is where I get to be a hero - and a superhero.  Home is where my imagination is enhanced by the imaginations of my children.  Home is where I find calmness in chaos.  It is where my patience is tested most and forgiveness flows most freely.  Home is where I hear the words “Daddy’s home” with loud, boisterous excitement.  Home is where hugs and kisses have the value of gold, and  are limitlessly mined.  Home is where encouragement abounds, and authentic love is unquestioned.

Though “home” might be defined differently by everyone, a healthy home is why we have clichés and sign-rhymes like:

“Our house is built with boards and beams, our home is built with love and dreams”

“Home is where the heart is”

“Home sweet home”

And as Dorothy Gail said while clicking her heels, “There’s no place like home”.

“This feels like home” were the words that came from my wife this week as we accepted a call to a new ministry role.  I could not agree more.

The response received from our new church family was overwhelming.  Everything from the thoughtfulness of people serving us above themselves to the tending of our children.  The Christian love expressed by both men and women, young and old was outstanding.  

Worshiping with this new group of people was an experience filled with authenticity, vulnerability, and freedom.  It’s the kind of authenticity, vulnerability and freedom that comes from hearts of genuine worship knit together, and saturated by the Holy Spirit.

It is a touch of heaven on earth that accomplished the task of edifying believers, striving together, on the journey in this world while worshiping and praising the creator of it.  It was safe.  It was accepting.  It was up-lifting.  It was rejuvenating.  It was unified.  It feels like home...  actually, now it is.

Thank you Wynne Baptist Church.  Thank you for adopting us into your home.  We look so forward to this new life together.

Idled by Idolatry

Recently I encountered a moment of deep conviction upon my running life.  It is an interesting thing to me, because it was a conviction about my own idolatry.  That’s right, IDOLATRY.  

In modern times idolatry seems like an almost non-existent practice, yet nothing could be further from the truth.  In days gone by, among tribes in lands most of us never encounter, idolatry consists of people “less enlightened” than ourselves worshiping a fashioned piece of wood, stone, or metal made into the image of some thing, some animal, or maybe of some-one.  For more “civilized” societies, idolatry seems like a silly topic, yet I have heard preachers preach against it most of my life... for that matter, I have preached against the principles of idolatry myself.  We often use sports and money to illustrate idolatry for such sermons.  I never think I’m preaching to myself on this topic.

Idols can be good things in our lives.  Not the idolatry itself, but the objects of it.  My children are good things in my life, they should not be my idol.  My job is a good thing to have, it should not be my idol.  Food is a good thing, it can be an idol.  Likewise, exercise, with all its benefits, can be an idol in our lives.  Anything I place in priority over my God, is an idol.

Strange as it may sound to some of my readers, I believe God wanted me to start running.  I believe the Holy Spirit compelled me to do so.  There is no doubt there were some personal revelations and physical motivators involved (See Weak One on Day 1), but ultimately I believe they were simply measures God used to get my attention to tell me to run. 

One of the surprising discoveries in the process is my personal enjoyment of running.  I really do like running. I know! Who knew!  I like the personal achievement I feel.  I like the stress relief it brings.  I like the physical energy I have gained.  I like the loss of pounds that has occurred.  I like what I have seen along my running routes, the sunrises I have witnessed, the personal praise and prayers to my creator as I reflect.  I like the personal applications I have made in the process.  I like it all.  In fact, after completing the training of my C25K app I immediately downloaded the next app in the series and began running towards the 10K goal.  I was amazed at the progress I was making and excited to not only have hit the 5K goal (3.1 miles), but then to run 5 miles.  Then to run 5 miles again... and again... and then even farther.

The five mile mark is kind of a cool mark to me.  I feel proud of the fact that I can.  I think back to the struggle of reaching a single mile - it was hard to imagine five.  I know there are marathoners and triathletes and tough-mudder runners out there that are doing far more exerting runs, but all of them hit the five mile mark at some point.  Even from the perspective of their accomplishments, I know they haven’t forgotten what it felt like to reach their first five miles. They know how I feel.

But then... God spoke to me again.  I was at the point of being just a 1/2 mile from the 10K mark in my running.  I had about two weeks of training time left on my app.  I had already looked at downloading the half marathon training app the night before.  But God convicted me.  In the quite, cool, sweat dripping, rhythmic, serenity of one of my runs God said “I didn’t tell you to run 10K”.  

Wait!!! What?!?  I chose not to listen.

The next run that week was exhausting. I was having an awful time. I actually ran my fastest time ever to the 5K mark, but then fell apart after that.  Each step seemed grueling.  It was almost like day one all over again.  My side began to hurt.  My legs felt feeble beneath me.  I felt more out of breath than ever and decided to stop and walk back home after having only run 3.5 miles.

Once again in the stillness of what was now a walk home, God spoke to me again and said “I didn’t tell you to run 10K”.

Simple as that.  He cleared me to run 5, NOT 10...but why?  Because of my own idolatry.

You see when I started, I found myself more disciplined spiritually as well.  I found myself less neglecting of time alone with Him.  I would return after a 30 minute run and sit on the patio reflecting, praying, meditating, and reading my bible more (I have an app for that, too).  I would spend the rest of the hour or so tending to my spiritual walk early in the day.  They were sweet, revealing moments indeed, and I was not doing it for any other reason than enrichment and pursuit of God.  I didn’t use the time to pray for my church or prepare sermons.  I didn’t use it to research biblical history or think about leadership strategies.  It was simply me and God having intimate time together and tending to the spiritual needs and counsel of this broken man.  People think ministers find such personal time easy, but that is simply not true for many of us.  It is easier to rationalize our study and prep time as “our time with God”.  Believe me, there is a difference between the two.

When I decided to go on to run 10K that time stopped.  My 10K training took longer.  It consumed more of my time.  It consumed more of my energy.  It consumed more of me altogether.  I was reveling in my accomplishment and leaving the spiritual exercise behind.  I was driven to achieve my goal and something had to go in order to get it done.  Like many of the people to whom I have ministered over the years, in order to achieve what I wanted to do, I let the spiritual discipline go.  It is a classic example of the flesh battling the spirit inside.  

I didn’t want to stop running farther, but I must.  I didn’t want to reduce my time on the run, but I must.  I didn’t want to feel like I am achieving less, but I must.  For now, it is 5K only for me.  Somewhere down the road I expect God will release me to pursue a new distance.  Until then I will perfect the one I have permission to do, and pursue new distances in my time with Him.

Ultimately, idolatry points back to self.  Even when the idols reflect something of greater power than our feeble humanity, it points back to self because it is the idol we have chosen for ourselves.  We have decided that it is our god, and that very act declares that we hold self as god even though we camouflage it with the image of something else.

1 Timothy 4:7-8

Discipline yourself for the purpose of godliness; for bodily discipline is only of little profit, but godliness is profitable for all things, since it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come.

Galatians 5:16-17

But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not carry out the desire of the flesh. For the flesh sets its desire against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; for these are in opposition to one another, so that you may not do the things that you please.