Expectation

When I was a sophomore in college I can remember studying James Joyce in British Literature 202 and being so frustrated! If you’ve never read Joyce, he did this thing called “stream of consciousness,” where he simply let his mind spill out onto the page without editing the punctuation, setting any kind of scene or telling the reader who is speaking when or to whom. It is very confusing and is supposed to be this mish-mashed jumble of thoughts as if you could really take in information the way the brain experiences it in real-time. It defies sense and isn’t linear in any way. I remember we were supposed to read the first chapter of one of his books and discuss the meaning in class and no one had a clue what it was about! Our professor tried to shepherd us through the ridiculous, chaotic, nonsense of Joyce’s mind but understanding eluded us completely. Finally he told us that the chapter was about a young boy who still has problems keeping his sheets dry… are you kidding me?! Since that day I have hated stream of consciousness and avoided all writers who use it like the bubonic plague, but today I accidentally wrote some…

You see, last night as it was getting late Christy asked, “So, how’s your day looking for tomorrow?” I thought for a minute and then began to recite a list of responsibilities and goals that was unbearably long… from the wedding talk I needed to get ready to the campaigners lesson that was yet to be written to Sunday night’s Bible Study lesson, the staff meeting, my weekly meditation, music for the week, details for the Chicago trip and on and on and on… After a while I simply stopped listing stuff I needed to work on and decided that I needed to get on to bed. When I woke up this morning that selfsame gigantic list of stuff on my “to do” list hit me in the face along with other concerns: people I know who are struggling or sick or recovering or who might be having a rough day… whew! It was like waking up with a car on top of your back and wondering, can I even get out from under this?!

When I got up to church and turned to the Scriptures, I wound up reading Psalm 5 which says, “In the morning, O Lord, You hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before You and wait in expectation.”

Whoa! It was exactly what I needed! I found a fresh page in my journal and just started writing… there was no rhyme or reason and hardly any punctuation. I simply wrote and wrote everything I wanted God to do that day. I would switch back and forth from prayers for one of my kids, to one of our missionaries, over to our money, the t-shirt order I needed to finish on time and then back to my own energy and joy for the day. It was a mad rush of thoughts spilling out of my head and heart at the break-neck speed of desperation. And the great thing was that at the end of it I had this totally ridiculous and nonsensical, James Joycian stream of conciousness rubbish that no one in their right mind could possibly make any sense of, and yet I knew that God heard every word, every random subject change and every cry for mercy and power. He heard my voice and I was able to look at that page and simply wait in expectation to see what He would do.

Young Life campers heading to the top of Mt. Chrysolite!!


The peerless Rocky Mountains...


Happiness

There were stretches of the hike that were almost flat and the walking was pleasant. Campers all around us were talking, laughing and even singing; but those stretches didn’t last long. Soon we were climbing again and the noise of conversation would die away as we all pushed ourselves; putting one foot in front of the last, keeping our balance on small, shifting rocks and searching for oxygen in the desperately thin air. It was not an easy day, but all you had to do in order to feel encouraged was to simply lift your head off the trail and look around… We were hiking above the tree line in the Rocky Mountains! We were taking in the landscape that Lewis and Clark witnessed and journaled about! Snow capped peaks surrounded us in every direction, and it was the middle of June! As we neared the end, the trail became more and more steep. It was covered in rocks that were hard to negotiate, like a final test to punish the hiker before the great reward of the summit… and then, we were there.

One of the coolest things about going to Young Life Camp at Frontier Ranch in Colorado is what they call “High Country Day” where the entire camp (well over 500 folks) hikes together to a 13,000 ft. peak known as Mt. Chrysolite. When we began the hike, I knew it would be a challenge, but I also knew it wouldn’t be that bad of one because I was in really good shape. I had been running everyday back home and felt confident that I would manage the mountain without too much strain, and had I been on my own, I’m sure that would have been true; however, I was not on my own. There were a couple of high school guys from our group that were not in any shape to be climbing a mountain in Colorado. It didn’t take long for them to start lagging behind and when I noticed them drifting farther and farther back in the line, I realized what my day was going to be about. I realized with a jolt why I was in good shape and why I had done all that running back home… it was about this moment and these two guys. Whatever it took, I was going to get Josh and Marcus up that mountain.

In no time at all my pleasant trot up the side of Chrysolite changed dramatically into a serious physical challenge as I loaded Marcus’ backpack on top of my own, wrapped Josh’s sweatshirt around my already laden waist and grabbed those pretty large guys in turn, inviting them to lean on me and walk. All of a sudden I was using my bag of encouragement tricks on myself internally… “Just one step at a time, Lee, and then the next. Come on, you can do this.” Josh was heavy and he was discouraged. I just tried to keep him talking and tried to make him laugh. I gave him everything I had that day and I’m not ashamed to say that I barely made it to the top. I asked him if he’d ever seen anything like these mountains and he said, “I’ve never really been out of Oak Ridge before.” When we made it to the top and you could see the continental divide and the most majestic peaks in all directions for miles and miles, my tears froze onto my face as I told Josh, “Open your eyes brother, and look…

That day I thought about all the stuff Jesus said about serving people, about laying down your life instead of holding onto it and I remembered John 15 where He said, “I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” I know I didn’t die for Josh or anything, but I gave my whole self away that day, and I remember this one moment when we were close to the top… my legs were burning, my back was creaking, my lungs were empty and my heart was full! I had the hardest time holding back the tears that kept wanting to jump on out there! We weren’t even to the top yet, but it wasn’t the mountains that made me burst with joy… I was giving my life away for someone else and in the midst of extreme pain and exhaustion, I was happy; outrageously filled and totally, totally happy. You really should try it sometime…


Some kid pics:

My new Nephew LEVI!!!!!!


Let it Sing!

My wife and I married in college. There were advantages to this, which was good because we couldn’t wait to be together any longer than we already had. You see, financial aid in the form of pell grants are only available to college students who are over the age of twenty four… unless you’re married!! When Christy and I got married, the US government started throwing money at us like crazy; in fact, the checks kept coming even after we graduated! We were debt-free 22 year-olds with college degrees who opened the mail box one day to find a check for $800! Christy turned to me and said, “I think we should buy your mandolin… it’s our only chance to have money like this outside of our budget. I was elated and started researching mandolins online. I soon knew everything there was to know about what is (in my opinion) the most beautifully constructed instrument on this planet, the F-style mandolin, created by Lloyd Loar for the Gibson Guitar Company in the early twentieth century.

I poured over stories of the legends of early Gibson mandolins from the 1920’s and before and read about how they were sold for $60,000… $85,000… even $200,000! Why, Bill Monroe’s 1924 Gibson Lloyd Loar F-5 was sold at an auction for 1.1 million dollars! Every mandolin that is built today is trying (with computers, machines and complex algorithms) to mimic things Lloyd Loar figured out with a chisel, some sand paper and his exceptionally sensitive ear almost a hundred years ago. They are simply some of the finest instruments ever built and in the right hands, they absolutely sing!

A while back, my friend Pottsy told me that his mom had a mandolin in the attic that was really old and he wanted me to come look at it. I asked him about it and he didn’t know much… just that it had been his dad’s, and before that his great granddad’s. I asked him how long it had been since someone played it and he had no idea. I went to his house expecting to see a busted up pile of toothpick-like shards in the general shape of an instrument, but what I saw was something else entirely… right in front of my face was a Gibson F-4 mandolin from 1911!! And here’s the kicker: it was perfect. Barely a scratch was on this masterpiece of luthiery! I picked it up in awe. I mean, the strings were rusted like crazy, but otherwise it was immaculate. I grabbed a pick and warned Pottsy that it would sound terrible because the strings were impossibly old and had to be worn out and totally detuned. Then I strummed it…

It was still in tune! Amazingly… impossibly, it was in tune! The tone was so aged, warm and rich! I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that this absolute treasure was just sitting up in the attic as silent as a stone when it was made to sing! Pottsy said, “What should I do with it?” I said, “Well, you can probably sell it for a bunch of money, but whatever you do, put some new strings on it and listen to it sing. This thing was made to sing!” In Isaiah 43 the Lord calls us “the people I formed for myself that they might proclaim my praise.” We were also made to sing! The point of the human being is to declare the praise of God… it’s what we’re for and what we’re supposed to be about! Have you been sitting in an attic somewhere silent as a stone when you were made to sing?! It’s time to do what you were made for! Tune your heart to sing His praise and let it fly! You were made for this!

Help

I’m about to leave home for nine days. I’m not going to see my wife and my kids for nine straight days. There will be nine days of kisses and laughter I’ll miss out on… nine days of crayon drawings I won’t see, story books I won’t read and bedtime songs I won’t sing. I’m about to get on a bus with over 60 high school kids and eight adults and drive pretty much all the way across the US through the night. It will be uncomfortable, cramped and tough. It will also be lots of fun, but this is a scary trip for me. This is my sixth time to take high school kids to a week of Young Life summer camp and this trip will be more spiritually daunting than the others. That seems off, right? I ought to be getting better at this and more comfortable with all that is involved with a week of evangelistic camp, but I’m more frightened now than ever before.

I have one of the biggest cabins I’ve ever had… 13 guys to myself. On the one hand, this is extremely exciting and I am fired up about the opportunity to be in the lives of all these guys, but on the other hand, it’s a lot of dudes and I’m pretty sure that the vast majority of them don’t know our Lord in any way! When I look at the names of the guys in my cabin, I feel totally overwhelmed by the task ahead! I usually go into camp with my target on a couple of guys, maybe three or four at the most who I just know are lost and need the Lord. As I look at my list, my crosshairs contain nine or ten guys!!! Whew! It takes me a while to simply write all of their names down in my journal as I’m praying! As I look at what’s coming, I’m asking myself, “How am I going to make it away from my family for so long (especially as my family keeps getting bigger and more fun all the time!)? How am I going to do on that road trip physically? How is my body going to do at 9,000 ft.? And how in the world am I supposed to love on and pour into 13 guys in just 9 days and really connect with them?!? How in the world can these 10 lost boys be found?!?”

Recently I have been reading the Psalms of Ascents, which contains Psalm 120 through 134. These were the songs the Israelites sang as they journeyed three times a year to Jerusalem for the festivals God told them to observe there. These were their pilgrim songs they sang to praise the Lord, getting their hearts ready. They were the comfort songs they sang to fill each other with peace during the often dangerous journey. And they were the memorial songs they sang to remind themselves who they were, who God was and what He was doing in their lives. Today I read Psalm 127, written by Solomon, which says, “Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain.” And my heart was pacified as I remembered that I am not responsible for saving these boys, God is building this house. I am not the one who protects my Christy and the kids, God watches over our little family.

As I was spending time writing out my prayers early this morning, I was praying for Christy and I was thinking a sentence that went like this: “Lord, please help her to…” but instead, without meaning to, I wrote this: “Lord, please help me…” I was praying for her, but instinctively my hand wrote, “help me…” This is what I’m learning from the songs of ascents. It’s what I’m learning as I go into yet another Young Life camp and it’s what I’m learning as I get older and our family keeps growing… that is, I am weaker than I used to be. I am less capable than I once was. I need more help everyday than I did the day before. I need God Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth to help me.

Here's Anna hard at work on some awesome drawings (which follow the post...)



Answering the Question

For a couple of years now our kids have actually been sitting in our church services as we worship. In the early days they were always in the nursery, which was appropriate because they were either sleeping, eating or crying like crazy and those aren’t really the things you want going on during worship (although you can always find a few sleepy heads doing the open-mouthed, jello-necked head bob). At one point when Anna was two-years-old we tried to bring her into a service, but she couldn’t handle seeing me up front playing the guitar and Christy up front singing while she had to remain seated with her grandparents… she lost control completely and we decided that maybe a few more months in the nursery wouldn’t hurt.

Nowadays Anna and Norah both hang out in the worship service, dancing and singing when they know the words and not losing control at all. It’s awesome. There is one part of the service that has become sort of a favorite tradition of mine where I make eye contact with both of the girls and we exchange ludicrously sappy and outrageous smiles. I love that part. Sometimes it happens right before the music starts and sometimes it happens during Tom’s announcements, but it nearly always happens and Norah has started to do the sweetest thing… When I catch her eye and we smile our cheesiest smile, she signs “I love you” to me. You know, where you stick out your thumb, index and pinky fingers, which means “I love you” in American Sign Language? Well, when she makes eye contact with me during worship, she sends that sign and I send it right back to her. It has become our little tradition, and I can’t tell you how it makes me feel that she takes that moment to tell me that she loves me!

This morning I read one of the sweetest passages in all of Scripture. I’m sure you’ve turned this page many a time, but consider it again… John 21. The resurrected Jesus had already spent time with all of His disciples together two times before this and had already had a one on one meeting with Peter. Now He met them all in Galilee. Peter and the boys were out fishing and had spent all night catching nothing. A voice called out to them from the shore saying, “Got any fish?” When they answered, the voice said, “Try the other side of the boat.” When they obeyed the voice, the nets were full of fish and they knew it was Jesus! They hurried to the shore (Peter jumping out of the boat and swimming) and He was already cooking breakfast. When they finished eating Jesus asked Peter one question three times…

“Simon, son of John, do you love me?” When I read that question this morning, it hit me that my day today is all about that question. He’s asking me, “Lee, do you love me?” And He’s not just asking me three times, but many, many times, over and over again all day long He will be asking me this question. Everything I do today is an answer to that repeated question. Every conversation, every glance, every reaction, every prayer is my answer to His tender question, “Do you love me?” All day long He’s trying to catch my eye and in everything I do, (just like Norah) I want to smile back at Him with all I’ve got and send up that little sign that says, “Yes, Lord, You know that I love you!”


This first one is of Christy and me with baby Jack in his mom's lap:



This one is of me and my guitar:


And here we have a bird, a frog, a duck and a blooming lily pad on a pond:

Hoedown at CCC!!

Here's Christy and Jack all ready for the Bluegrass Breakdown!

Tom, Austin and me after the square dance! (it was hard work playing two chords for twenty five minutes!!)


Jack with his great grandma... NAN!


Rosie and me, complete with overalls!


Where The Fish Are

I know I have been frustrating Norah lately. It’s not really my fault and it’s not really hers either… she’s just three years old, you know? Sometimes at naptime she wants to simply sit in her bed and play around instead of sleeping. When I go back in that room and tell her she had better lie down and sleep, she freaks out; but hey, I’m right! If she doesn’t sleep, it’s bad business for everyone including her! She only thinks she wants to stay up. The truth is, she needs to sleep and would be a million and five times happier if she would just get a little rest (as would everyone else). Norah is also lactose intolerant. When I tell her she doesn’t want seven gallons of ice cream, she doesn’t believe me. And look, I know she thinks she wants seven gallons of ice cream, but she’s wrong, because when she has a bunch of good ole cow’s milk, she starts feeling terrible on the inside which comes right on out to the outside! I know it’s frustrating, but the rules we set up aren’t just arbitrary standards intended to make Norah miserable, they are designed (and tailor-made) to make her happier.

This past weekend was our fifth annual High School Bible Study Retreat. My friend Devon spent the weekend telling kids what it means to really follow Jesus. On the first night He shared with them the story of the miraculous catch of fish from Luke 5. This guy Simon and his business partners had been up all night fishing but had caught nothing. They were professionals who had the best gear, experience and knowledge of when and where to find fish and how to bring them in; however, that night they came up empty handed. They came into shore, tied off the boats and got out to start washing the fruitless nets. At the same time a crowd was forming around Jesus, waiting for Him to speak to them. He stepped into the boat belonging to Simon and asked him to push off a bit so He could preach to the crowd on the shore.

Luke says, “When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, "Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch." Simon answered, "Master, we've worked hard all night and haven't caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets." When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break.” I know how Simon (later called Peter) felt. I’ve had people stand over me and tell me how to do something musically who didn’t know a minor triad from a major seventh. You just politely smile and pretend to take their advice while you are thinking and want to say, “Let me handle this, okay? I have been doing this for a living for years now and you don’t know what a pentatonic scale is.”

Whatever he was thinking about this strange command, Simon did put out into deep water and he did let down the nets. What followed changed his life… The nets were so full of fish they began to break! Just listening to Jesus even when he didn’t understand wound up being the smartest thing Peter ever did. Jesus doesn’t just randomly make up things for me to do and He doesn’t arbitrarily take me through hard times… no, He doesn’t tell me to drop the nets over here or over there simply because He wants control, but because He knows where the fish are. Everything He takes me through is part of the perfectly worked out plan of the one who knows absolutely everything… Or, as Paul puts it in Ephesians 1:11, “In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will.”

The Old Wells

The past couple of weeks have been a trip for me… my dad is back home in Oak Ridge coaching high school football! In some ways I feel like a little kid again seeing him out there in cardinal and gray on the practice field training a new generation of Wildcats how to block and tackle. In some ways it feels just as it did in the old days; and then again, in some ways it doesn’t. You see, Dad is having to start over from scratch with these guys he doesn’t really know yet. Back in the day when I played, we all learned the system in the third grade, so that by the time we got to high school and were under Dad’s coaching, he knew that we knew what to do. Nowadays guys are having to un-learn everything they learned and re-learn it all his way. It’s like going back to the basics and redoing things that should have already been taken care of.

The basics should be second nature, but they aren’t. These guys ought to know at certain times what to do and where to be. They ought to get in certain positions and respond to certain circumstances automatically, but they don’t, so Dad’s having to go back the basics and re-teach the stuff they ought to have down by now. The other day I watched him tell one of his boys over and over again that he was coming off the ball too high… that he needed to get his body down low. These are football fundamentals I remember learning in the fourth grade when I blocked so low that my coach nick-named me “Toenail.” I can’t imagine getting to be a high school junior or senior without knowing how to block low!

Then again, I think I can imagine how that feels… I know how it feels to be so far along that you ought to have the basics down but you just don’t yet, and you’re constantly having to re-learn the same old lessons again and again. I’ve been reading through the book of John again and the thing that keeps blowing my mind is that I am getting so much out of the very basic things… Like in chapter 3 when Jesus told Nicodemus that you can really start over again... how did I forget that?! Or like in chapter 7 when Jesus told everyone at the Feast of Tabernacles that if you’re thirsty, you can go to Him and believing in Him will make streams of living water flow from within you… that’s so basic! How in the world am I still learning that lesson?

Then there was today… I was feeling low and just totally disconnected from Him and I turned to John 10 and read again (as if for the first time) those peerless verses where our Lord said that I am His… in His hand and no one can snatch me out of His eternal grip! How did I forget the most basic thing? That’s why it’s always good to ground your heart in the Word… to mine the fields of the fundamental truths of our faith so that even if you forget, you remember again. Genesis 26: 18 says, “Isaac reopened the wells that had been dug in the time of his father Abraham, which the Philistines had stopped up after Abraham died, and he gave them the same names his father had given them.” That’s what it’s like to go back to those basic things… you may forget, and they may get buried, but dig them back up… keep reopening the old wells so you can have their refreshing water once again.