Anonymous and OK with it?

I recently met some new friends....well, they are new to me. They are actually friends of my wife. They are really nice people and I look forward to getting to spend time with them as our friendships develop. When meeting them I received compliments on this blog. The person said that they had read these posts and made a (joking, I'm sure) remark about my internet presence and, in their words, "fame"

Fame?...Me?

I believe that this blog has a grand total of nine followers and that my last post was seen by a grand total of thirty-two people. Did I mention that I have something like thirty-six followers on Twitter? I have never pastored a megachurch, never been asked to chair any important committees or task forces. In short...I'm anything but well known and famous is not a word that I would associate with myself.

And I've become ok with that.

I must confess that this has not always been the case. My childhood was very difficult and it left me with a huge void in terms of self confidence and a sense of my purpose and worth. For many years I longed to know that I was worth something to someone. I tried playing sports, mostly in an effort to gain the approval of my father, but that didn't work. I participated in drama and speech contests with some success but not the recognition that I hungered for. My college career was nothing special and was noted more for my lack of academic achievement than anything else. With the possible exception of the cafeteria food fight...but we don't talk about that.

I struggled into adulthood and marriage feeling lost in a way. I desperately wanted my life to mean something to someone. I believed that God loved me but I wasn't sure why. I was convinced that my wife was going to wake up one day and realize the loser that I was and leave me for someone who would make a difference in the world. 

I was anonymous and miserable. 

I wish I could tell you that there was a Damascus-road type experience in which God broke through my misery and overwhelmed my disbelief with his love. That's not the case. The truth is that I struggled for many, many years and that I came to spiritual and emotional health through small doses of that still, small voice and the Bible. The Job like patience of my wife was so very vital in all of this. She continued to model for me the love of God...the truth is she still does.

I reached a turning point one day through the actions of one of my kids. One of my sons had inadvertently caused a minor disaster while I was working on our car. It was nothing major but was just one of those "perfect storm" moments. I overreacted and exploded all over him, saying things I didn't mean and should never have said. He ran into the house in tears and stayed there while I laid under the car fuming. 

I'm not sure how long I laid there but my fuming turned into self loathing. I was certain that my actions were proof of my absolute worthlessness. But then I heard my son come outside. I came out from under the car and before I could apologize he rushed up to me and threw his arms around me and told me he loved me. I was stunned that his heart would want to be on the same planet as me, much less express his love for me. 

God had me right where he wanted me. I was listening to Dr. David Jeremiah the next morning and he read Psalm 27:10 - "My mother and father have forsaken me, but the Lord will take me up." A light went on in my head. 

I came to realize that God picked me up all those years ago when I accepted Christ as my Savior. He knew what was coming then and He loved me anyway. His plan for my life included all the struggles, all the heartaches. He has been there all the time, wanting and waiting to wrap me in His arms. All those youth leaders, the senior adults, my wife and so many others were the instruments of His grace and love in the long, slow drawing of my burdened heart to Him.

I discovered that I wasn't so anonymous after all. I was the object of the affections of the Creator of the universe. He picked me up all those years ago and had been carrying me. 

The truth is that none of us are anonymous. God knows each of us in ways deeper than we can imagine, and He loves us with a love so passionate and fierce that He gave up his son for us.

No one from high school, college, or even seminary may remember me. No one at the headquarters of the SBC may know my name and I may never be remembered as a great pastor...But God knows me, loves me and has prepared a place for me. 

If that's anonymity I'm okay with it.

Where Never is Heard a Discouraging Word?

Oh give me a home
Where the buffalo roam
And the deer and the antelope play
Where never is heard 
A discouraging word
And the skies are not cloudy all day. 

This blog was originally intended to be about the power of words...the power to build up, to tear down. I had intended to address the foolishness of Victoria Osteen's words...the President's seeming obsession with calling the Islamic State "ISIL" and what the meaning of "is" is. But technological issues derailed that post and so I find myself thinking of other things this morning. 

Mondays tend to be "Mondays" for me. They are often the most physically, spiritually, and emotionally challenging days of my week. I know many pastors who feel that way. It seems that the preparations for Sundays consume our emotions, intellects, and efforts and then we find ourselves spent come Monday. This is especially true for me because I don't sleep well or in great quantity. So I find myself on many Monday mornings struggling to get started; much less build any great momentum.

I have to admit that this was true this morning. I don't drink coffee (I know, I'm a weirdo!) and was having a hard time generating anything resembling enthusiasm for the day (I've been up since 3:30 am) when someone sent me a text message. I didn't recognize the number, but that's unimportant. 

The message was one of encouragement. The sender wanted to thank me for my service to our church. 

There was power in that message, at least for me. My heart was encouraged by the simple message and the words of thanks for my preaching. Those words penetrated my heart and unleashed joy. I cannot say that they made my day, but they sure helped me get off to a better start than I would have otherwise. 

So I guess I am still speaking about the power of words...but in the positive sense. We live in a world that delights in tearing things down, especially people. What a joy to receive a message that was intended to build up, to encourage, to strengthen. 

My response to that test message? To be someone who encourages others today. 

Thanks.

Read This Before You Give Up

Our world is full of strife.

I doubt that anyone anywhere would argue with that statement. The situation in the Ukraine, ISIS, murders, assaults, politics...it seems as if everything is caught up in turmoil. Our world has become a place of war, pain, and despair. Hopelessness appears to be the theme of our days. Who could blame us if we decided to throw our hands up and give up?

I will.

I have known my share of heartache and troubles. An abusive childhood, abandonment, disappointment seemed to be the story of my life...and that was before I turned 18! The death of children, chronic health conditions, dismissals, personal attacks, and struggles have filled my days since. But I will not give up, will not give in. I can no more give up on this life that I could suddenly grow eight inches and regrow all my hair (if you're reading this but don't know me....I'm short, fat, and bald). But I have learned one or two things during my troubled time on this planet and those things give me the ultimate hope. I will list the most important thing first:

I know Jesus as my Savior and Lord.

Jesus became my Savior as a ten year old and I have been trying to submit to His lordship ever since. I haven't always followed Him as I should but He's never given up on me. That alone is the greatest hope I will ever know. I am not dependent on being smarter than everyone else, or faster, or more handsome or anything. In fact, there is nothing that you or I or anyone can do to be worthy of God's grace. I depend on the sacrifice of Jesus for my right standing before a holy God. That grace is a gift of God and I will never be able to do anything to make Him love me less or remove His grace from me. 

That grace is available to all men because God loves all men. I'm not going to debate predestination or election, or any of that stuff. All I know is that God loves all of us...offers His grace to all...and doesn't desire that anyone be separated from Him. He actively calls men and women just like me every day and as many as who will receive Jesus by faith will be saved. In a world filled with hopelessness and futility that's truly good news. I believe God is going to keep things under control until his plan it finished and then wraps things up. Not a day sooner or later. God is in control.

I will never give up because His grace shows me that it is never too late for God to reach down and change the world. 

Please think a moment or two about this for a day or two....I promise you that this truth alone will change the way you look at this world.

Jesus, the Celebrity Culture and the Church

I have observed with some interest over the last few weeks the ongoing Mark Driscoll saga. Unless you are a pastor or some other church leader chances are that you are unaware of who Mark Driscoll is and why he is important. Driscoll is the pastor of the Mars Hill Church in Seattle, Washington.

The controversy surrounding Driscoll took a disturbing turn in the last two weeks when the Acts 29 network, a church planting organization that Driscoll himself helped found, asked Driscoll to step down from his position and removed Mars Hill from the membership of the organization. This is just the latest brouhaha involving Driscoll in the last few months. Accusations of plagarism, inappropriate speech and abusive behavior towards church staff have swirled around Driscoll and there seems to be no end in sight. Recently Driscoll announced that he would be taking a leave of absence as the charges against him are examined.

Driscoll represents, at least to me, part of a greater problem for North American Christianity. I am speaking of a celebrity culture that seems to have crept into every corner of our faith. Strong men with strong personalities have become the "stars" of the American version of the faith. The same problem is present in the world of Christian music. I am not saying that Driscoll or any  other "famous" pastor has actively pursued such a status. But the truth is that we are wired to worship, and in our fallen state we will worship just about anything. The early church was not immune to this struggle, as illustrated by Paul's comments about the controversy between followers of Paula and Apollos in 1 Corinthians 1. The problem that Paul deals with there, and that the current controversy surrounding Mark Driscoll illustrates so well is one of following men rather than God. The amount of heated emotion and vitriol on both sides of the Driscoll controversy demonstrates the dangers inherent in tying our faith to men, no matter how good (or even great) they may be.

The answer is not simple. Pastors need to make themselves accountable to God and seek, as Paul did, to take every thought captive (2 Cor. 10:5). I know from personal experience how difficult it can be to take those thoughts captive. How difficult to let go of the praise that people want to give you, especially when praise and encouragement is so hard to come by. We need not only accountability before God but we also need to make ourselves transparent, willingly allowing God and others to have access to the far corners of our lives.

But mostly we/I need prayer. We don't need fawning fans or book deals. We need the fervent prayers of those who fill our pews, those who serve with us, those who serve around us. There are too many men who serve "alone," without the benefit of accountability and encouragement from fellow pastors and elder saints. Many of us don't have that, some by deliberate choice, but some by circumstance.

I have begun to pray for Mark Driscoll. I trust that God is not through with him yet, that there are still great things for him to accomplish for the kingdom. Will you join me in praying for him....and will you pray for me?

We both need it.

Somebody's Watching....Always

One of the regular parts of my morning routine is listening to sports talk radio. While I spend time in front of the mirror shaving I like to listen to Mike and Mike. I find that sports is both a distraction and a reasonable reflection of our culture. I must also admit that I like sports, especially football.

This morning as I was shaving I heard about an incident involving Johnny Manziel. For anyone who might have been in a cryogenic sleep the last two years or so; Manziel is a rookie quarterback for the Cleveland Browns of the NFL. He has a tremendous amount of ability, and an ego to match. Manziel is a polarizing figure...you either love him or you don't. It seems that Manziel has been in the news more for his lifestyle than his ability over the last few months. That's not a good thing, at least in my opinion.

During a recent preseason game Manziel made an obscene gesture towards the opposing team's sideline. Not a smart thing to do, especially when you are the visiting team. When asked about the gesture during the post game press conference Manziel attempted to downplay his actions. Needless to say those actions have been the talk of sports radio this morning. Johnny Manziel can't seem to understand that the spotlight he's living under is harsh, unforgiving, and never turned off. His actions will only hurt his team and himself.

Manziel claims to be a Christian, and I'm not here to debate the relative merits of his faith claim. But I do want to consider for a moment the reality of the life that Manziel lives and its comparison to our own. Each of us is a billboard that displays much more about us than we would like to admit. Johnny Manziel can't seem to allow his talent to overcome his character struggles. The sad truth is that we are all like him, struggling to balance character, talent, and expectations.

Please understand that I am not talking about perfection....I talking about living honestly. We will make mistakes. Hopefully not as severe as Manziel's, but we will make mistakes all the same. We need to live in a way that owns up to our shortcomings and displays the grace and forgiveness that are ours through Jesus. The best Christians are the ones who get up after falling down, seek forgiveness and make amends to those who they have wronged. In short, they demonstrate the presence of the Holy Spirit and the character of Jesus.

Jesus said in Matthew 5:16 "Let your light before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven." That's a tall order that is much more difficult that it might seem. The world is always watching....no matter the venue; work, play, school, home, even the football field. Our every word, every gesture and action are on display and are seen and evaluated by those who see us. Pastors aren't the only ones who live in fishbowls: quarterbacks and moms and you and me do too.

So today when you mess up...and we all will. Simply confess, make amends and keep trying. I think we will all find that we will escape being the subject of talk radio.

Life, Death and Empty Nests

August 12th is always a different day in our house. It used to be a difficult day, perhaps the most difficult day of the year, at least for us. You see it was on August 12, 1987 that our first child was born. His name is Johnathan. He lived less than four minutes.....the time of his life on this earth is not important, that he lived is. His birthday was for many years a day of tears and mourning. There was very little to celebrate. For many years I would take the day off from work so that I could spend the day with my wife. I can remember feeling guilty on the first day that I chose to work rather than staying home to mourn.

Today Johnathan would be 27 years old....I imagine that he would have long ago left the safety of our home to engage the world. Perhaps he would have married by now and even given his parents a grandchild to spoil. The thought gives me pause to smile. I look forward to one day having a grandchild to pass on my "wisdom"....if it could be called that. I'm sure that my wife would have a different opinion.

When Johnathan died a part of me died. That death became even more pronounced when 19 months later our second child died shortly after birth. His name was Timothy and he would have been 25 now. The combination of blows left me staggering, reeling, breathless. There are no words to express the depths of our pain. It was the love of God that brought us through those long, dark days of pain and questions. Our marriage survived and we have been able to pick up the pieces.  That doesn't make their birthdays any less difficult, but we know hope and it is that hope that we cling to everyday.

The news today has been dominated by the death of comedian/actor Robin Williams. It is indeed sad that a man of his immense talents apparently decided to take his own life. I will not judge him. Indeed, none of us is in the place of God. Robin Williams will stand before God and be judged not on the method of his death, but on his relationship with God. My prayers are lifted for his family.

This day is a difficult day not because of the loss of Robin Williams or the anniversary of the birth and death of my son Johnathan, but because the emptying of our nest continued today with the departure of our second son for college. Matthew has chosen to go back to Southwest Mississippi Community College. He has just completed a term as a summer missionary in Oklahoma. His mother and I joked with Matt that we would move while he was gone, and that is just what we did! But we did pick him up at the airport and he was with us for a couple of weeks. But today he loaded up his truck and moved away. There were tears in his parents eyes as he drove away. Matthew may or may not be ready to face the world, but I can assure you the world isn't ready to face Matthew. He has a way of changing the lives of everyone around him and I am sure that he will continue to do just that.

Tomorrow his twin sister Rebekah will go back to college as well. Our nest is slowly but surely emptying. The beginning of May found our house full but by the end of May two-thirds of our kids had moved away. My wife and I have always known that our nest would empty....we just never saw it happening so quickly. Four kids leaving in one month was a lot harder than we ever thought it would be.

The days of summer saw not only four of our kids moving away, but we also left our place of service after six years and moved away from an area that we had been in for the last fourteen years. All of these transitions have been difficult. But God has been with us throughout each of them and we cling to His promise that He will be with us through all the days that are yet to come. We have learned not to despair but to rejoice. God has turned our mourning into dancing and our tears into laughter. I have joked many times that the reason we had six kids (eight counting Johnathan and Timothy) was that I wanted to change the world...one kid at a time. My plan is about to be put into motion!

I thank God for August 12th. On each August 12th and every day that surrounds it He has proven his love and power and goodness. In spite of life's changes, death, and even empty nests.

Character Building and Other Painful Things.

While driving the other day I had the opportunity to listen to a portion of the Mike Huckabee radio program. I was once quite a follower of talk radio, with tastes that ranged from Rush Limbaugh to Don Imus and a host of others. But I no longer spend the time in a car that I once did and so my time spent with talk radio has lessened greatly.

At any rate, while listening to the Huckabee show I had the mixed pleasure of listening to a discussion (?) concerning trophies for participation. Passions were high and feelings ran deep on each side of the question. It seems that we as a culture have become confused as to the nature of play and the purposes of both winning and losing. Those subjects (play, winning and losing) are what I wish to ponder for a  moment or two.

What is the purpose of play? Might I be so bold as to state that the purpose or play is to have FUN! When was it decided that play was to have such great and grave consequences? My memories are filled with images of laughter and smiles. Growing up as a normal (yes, I was normal once) boy I tested myself against other boys, and it matters not in my memory whether I bested those others or not. Those memories, and they are quite clear, give little note as to the outcome of the contests. Those memories are filled with the joy of companionship, and many of those boys (and girls) are my friends still. There are memories of losses, indeed, my baseball "career" was filled with them, but the losses are mere footnotes. It seems to me that the purpose of play is to allow us to exercise, to exercise our spirits, our bodies, and our emotions. Play does not concern itself with such trivial matters as winning and losing or any other such nonsense. Modern culture has made play a much too serious thing. In short, we've taken the fun out of play.

In the process of robbing play of its essential nature we have elevated winning and losing beyond the pale. May I say that winning has been overrated? The worst examples of sportsmanship that I have experienced and observed have come from those who were the winners. I have some experience with winning, mostly in individual competitions, and a great deal of experience when it comes to losing. Growing up as one of the smallest in all my classes I had the great displeasure of being among the last picked at everything involving athletics. I quickly learned that I would have to excel on the field if I was to avoid the bottom of the pecking order. And that I did. But I never forgot the feelings being picked last engendered. Those lessons helped to build my character, which is what they should do. We should play for the love of play itself, the outcome is of secondary importance. Our modern culture is wrong to place such an emphasis on winning.

Those memories gave me a strong desire to help others avoid such a fate. This desire to look out for the "least of these" has been a strong part of my life. As a father of six, including four boys, I have always striven to instill in all my children a sense of fair play and a desire to do one's best, regardless of the outcome. Whether or not I have succeeded will only be known in the years to come. My hope is that their character will reflect the love of play and the value of those we play with.