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Note to the weary reader: This will (hopefully) be my last post about our house and the trees that fell and the ensuing construction...

The very first time we ever saw our house was on a rainy, gray and dreary day. We were driving around with our realtor to go check out some promising listings in our price range and started with this house that we didn’t like. The thing about this house was that it matched the day. What I mean to say is, it looked droopy. The color of the house was a cold, blue/gray that perfectly matched the grumpy sky above. The ground was mushy from the constant rain and the house just seemed to sigh... like Eeyore from “Winnie the Pooh.” We pulled up, stopped the car and sighed along with the house, thinking, “So this is our price range. Okay.”

Then we went inside and were blown away... it was beautiful. Almost everything about this house had been updated or redone with really good taste. It was open, spacious and had lots of natural light, which was sort of a deal-breaker for us. We saw a few more houses that day, but couldn’t stop thinking about that very first one we saw... the Eeyore house. Long story short, we got it. We prayed a ton and got that house! We thankfully and joyously moved in and have loved it ever since. Now, we knew the house wasn’t perfect... I mean, home ownership is one of those things that never stops, as in there’s always something else to do. We knew this house was going to need a new roof at some point, the gutters were not so great, it wasn’t very energy efficient, and we wanted to do lots of painting. Our thinking was that we would try to paint a room at a time over the course of years as we could afford to do it, and hopefully save up for gutters, roof and exterior paint. The only problem being... no savings. Honestly, it looked like some of our ideas and dreams for this house were impossible.

Then two trees fell on the house... a mighty wind blew those trunks out of the ground and onto the house, crushing the roof and one of the rooms. It has been a confusing and difficult time with moving a bunch and dealing with tons of different people and companies, but now it’s all finished and we move back home today!! Not only that, but check this out: without saving up any money, we are moving back into the house we love except that now it has a brand new roof, brand new insulation, brand new gutters, a brand new bonus room in every way and a custom paint job on every square inch of the house, inside and out! WHAT!? Professionals have been working around the clock for weeks to make our home such an awesome place to come home to. After a short, but difficult month and a half of confusion, frustration and inconvenience, we are going home... and to an even better home than we could have hoped for.

This week I was reading 1 Thessalonians 4 where Paul says, “We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord's own word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left till the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage each other with these words.”

Our lives can be difficult and confusing and full of struggles and hardship, but hey, they’re also going to be pretty short! And then, we get to go home. Whatever we have to endure while we’re here, it’s only for a little while and then we get to go home... home to a place that is more amazing than we could ever imagine where we’ll get to be with Jesus always... mmm. Can’t wait till that day!

Go! Ask!

“Daddy, you don’t love me...”

Those are the words I heard coming out of my phone today. Christy and the kids were up at church for Women’s Bible Study and as they were getting ready to leave, I was there, at the driver’s side window talking to Christy. We were saying our goodbyes as the window rolled up and the van backed out, but apparently I missed something big. Norah was in her car seat, way in the back of the van and the whole time I was talking to Christy, she was telling me she loved me. I didn’t hear her.

I smiled and waved as the van pulled out and rolled away. In about twenty minutes my phone rang. It was Christy. We had a couple more things to talk about; plans to iron out for the rest of the day, so I was glad she called. Shortly before we got off the phone; however, I learned that the real reason for this call was that Norah was very upset. She thought I didn’t love her. As the van pulled away from the church, she started to cry because I didn’t tell her I loved her... she was saying it to me! Why hadn’t I said it back? Christy filled me in on all this and said, “Is it okay if Norah talks to you?” I felt so bad! I hadn’t even heard her in the van!

I heard the phone trade hands and then heard a creaky, little voice say, “Daddy, you don’t love me.” As sweetly and fervently as I could, I told her, “Norah, I love you! I love you tons! I’m gonna love you forever, and ever, no matter what!” The phone was silent for a second, but then the creaky voice spoke again... this time with a question: “You love me? Really?” “Girl! I love you! I’m crazy about you!” Robust giggles filled my ear as Norah started belly laughing into the phone... “Dad, you love me!”

Do you ever wonder? Do you ever feel like maybe God is over you? Do you ever feel like you’ve gone too far or pushed Him too much? Ever feel like you’ve been too bad or been bad too often? Ever feel nothing... just nothing at all? Here’s my question for you: what do you want to do about it?! Norah asked Christy to call me. She had to find out! She had to know whether or not I loved her... are you willing to do that?

This is why I get up early in the morning. It’s why I get away, by myself in a place that’s totally quiet. I want to know. I want God to tell me that He loves me. One day this week in that quiet and solitary place I read Psalm 107. It’s all about different people at different times who were in trouble and called out on the Lord to help them. Four times in this Psalm after telling some awesome story of God’s heroic care, the Psalmist says, “Let them give thanks to the Lord for His unfailing love and His wonderful deeds for men.” He loves me. I went to Him and He told me four times. the very last verse of Psalm 107 says, “Whoever is wise, let him heed these things and consider the great love of the Lord.” If you need to hear it, He’s ready to say it! Go find Him!

Why Indeed?

Last week Christy and I went to see a great movie. Now, maybe no one but me will tell you it was a great movie. In fact, if you ask the critics, they’ll tell you it was a C+ at best. If you hop on over to Rotten Tomatoes, you’ll find out that it only got a 21% on the Tomato Meter. Sure it was a chick flick, and yes, there were some cheesy one-liners, and of course you could smell the plot coming from about a mile away, but guess what? It was still a great movie... Why? Because, we laughed, we had fun and we were entertained and uplifted. I mean, movies are supposed to be entertaining, right? Our great date movie got panned by the critics because it was cute and predictable. It got panned because it wasn’t dark or heavy and didn’t deal with any ‘important issues’ but we loved it and smiled all the way home.

These days, in order for a movie to be considered good or worthwhile, it has to be good art... but who decides what’s good art? I mean, have you seen a painting by Jackson Pollack?! That guy’s stuff looks like a box of crayons got the stomach flu... gross. In the last ten years or so, movies that win awards and get good grades are more often than not base, dark, sad, violent, cruel and even depressing. Who decided that vile equals good? Who decided that sin equals daring and important art? Movies are supposed to be entertaining. I already know how backwards and messed up this world is. I don’t need to pay nine bucks to get depressed. But hey, that’s just the way this world is... and this treatise on movies is just my little ‘ole opinion, but it does remind me of something:

It seems like a lot of Christians are in love with sadness lately. I have been reading a lot of people that I totally love and respect who are really pumped about spiritualizing sadness. They say that sadness is honest, and that ‘the dark night of the soul’ is just about as holy as you can get. They say Jesus didn’t come to secure our happiness and that happiness is such a trite and fleeting emotion anyway that has little to do with true Godliness. This confuses me, because it seems like they like it; as in, they like being sad... Now, I’m not going to sit here on some kind of pedestal and pretend that I’ve got it all together or that I’m Mr. Joybells all the time, because I have dark days just like the next guy, but here’s the thing: I don’t like those days. I don’t like the way it feels to be sad. I don’t think the Holy Spirit lives in me to perpetuate despondency because sadness is somehow a good thing.

In John 15, Jesus said that He wanted His joy to be in me and He wanted my joy to be complete. In Philippians 4 Paul said, “Rejoice in the Lord always, I will say it again, rejoice!” In chapter 1 he said that the only reason he was still on this earth was for their progress and joy in the faith, that their joy in Christ Jesus might overflow! Sometimes Christians say that joy and happiness are two different things... as in, they are totally sad, but they have the joy of the Holy Spirit somewhere down inside there... I don’t think this makes much sense, and I don’t think they can find a verse for it. 1 Peter 1 says that because we believe in Jesus, we are filled with an “inexpressible and glorious joy.” That doesn’t sound very sad to me!

In Philippians 4, after telling us to rejoice in the Lord always, Paul says this: “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” You see, joy is a choice, and so much of it comes down to what you think about. Sadness isn’t holy, it’s sad, and when heaven is ushered in, it will be done away with finally and totally. Jesus has died for us to take away our sins, give us a place in heaven and in His heart forever and ever... as the old Christmas song, The Sussex Carol says, “Then why should men on earth be so sad, since our Redeemer made us glad?”

Anna at Swimming Lessons!!







It’s All In What You Call It

So, last night Christy was getting dinner ready while I was holding Jack and we were all dancing to the music playing in the kitchen. The girls were quietly playing with their toys when something happened that changed everything... All of a sudden Anna shouted, “Oh No! Lizzie’s throwing up!” Norah gasped and Christy ran out of the kitchen into the girls’ bedroom after answering back, “Oh No!” Within the space of two seconds, I was left standing in the kitchen bewildered and asking Jack, “Who is Lizzie?”

Lizzie, it turns out, is a Lizard... not a real lizard, but a toy. You see, for Christmas this year, Anna wanted these things called “Littlest Petshop” which are tiny, plastic, bobble-headed animals with humongous eyeballs. She has a bunch of them now, which means that everyday after school we have an NFL Draft in our living room as Anna and Norah decide how they are going to divvy up the animals. Then all the Littlest Petshops spend the rest of the afternoon doing very un-NFL types of things like going to fake dinner parties and Ballet classes. Christy, of course knew exactly who Lizzie was, and helped the girls nurse the giant-headed lizard back to perfect health just in time to head out to the fake park for a fake walk.

I love how the girls name all of their toys. Sometimes the names are obvious, like Lizzie the Lizard and sometimes they are random, like Norah’s baby doll named “Bottle.” Sometimes the names are really girly and then sometimes they are just really cool names. But, there’s something in the naming that changes the game. Calling that green piece of plastic a name ups the ante and makes it more real. It changes the way you look at it, to call it something.

Praise is like that. An attitude of praise for the Lord can change everything about the way you see your day. Psalm 92 says, “It is good to praise the LORD and make music to your name, O Most High, to proclaim your love in the morning and your faithfulness at night, to the music of the ten-stringed lyre and the melody of the harp. For you make me glad by your deeds, O LORD; I sing for joy at the works of your hands.”

I love how he talks about proclaiming God’s love and faithfulness over the two extreme ends of the day. It’s like a determination to praise all day long. What if you did that as an experiment? Wake up one day and say out loud, “I am proclaiming right now that everything that will happen to me for the rest of this day is coming straight from God’s hand because He’s in control of everything and He loves me. I am calling everything for the rest of this day, love... in all that happens today, He is loving me.” Then, when you’re about to go to bed at night, lay your head down on your pillow and reflect by saying out loud, “He was faithful! He did it! I was right! All day long God loved me. Everything He did was part of His faithful love.”

What if you did that? What if you praised on purpose, calling your days examples of His love and faithfulness? I am willing to bet that it could revolutionize your days and change the way you see everything! As the Psalmist said, “It is good to praise the LORD.”

Take That!

Last Thursday our sweet little Norah had surgery. It was the first time one of our kids has had to be ‘put under’ as they say, and it was pretty rough for us to walk out of the pre-op room as they wheeled our little girl out into who knows what… In a little less than an hour, they were finished and we got to go see her, which was also very difficult. Poor Norah was so confused and out of it. She was hurting and had no idea why and couldn’t even open her little eyes to see us… We held her and rocked her and after a couple of hours took her home. I thought the worst was over, but little did I realize that the medicine the doctors prescribed for her would be an all-out battle…

It’s this liquid pain medicine that tastes really nasty. In fact, it’s so nasty that Norah starts crying and shaking every time she sees the big red bottle. She starts freaking out and swallowing air so fast that it’s almost impossible for her to get anything down. What’s more, we have to wake her up throughout the night to give her these meds! One hard thing for me has been the fact that I work during the day, which means that I give Norah meds before I leave for work, when I get home from work and in the middle of the night. Some of my only interactions with her have been these awful medicine bouts. It’s gotten to a state where she sees me and just starts crying because she knows I’m there to give her this medicine, which she hates like poison. I have been praying for a solution to these dreadful, medicinal encounters and then all of a sudden it happened last night…

Christy had an idea… an amazing idea… it was a stroke of pure genius! I woke Norah up and brought her into our bedroom to give her the medicine and as soon as she opened her eyes and saw my face, she said, “No Daddy, I don’t want it!” and started to cry. I was once again in that state of despair knowing that I had to put my kid through something she hated for her own good, when Christy said, “Hey Norah, do you want to make us try your medicine?” Norah’s tears stopped instantly and she said, “What?” I grabbed the baton and ran with it… “Yeah, Norah,” I said, “Do you want to give Daddy some of your medicine?” Norah’s face brightened up for the first time in days and she nodded her head. I gave her a dose of nasty, yucky medicine and then she gave me a dose. It was amazing. The fact that I was willing to go through her trouble with her made all the difference in the world.

Hebrews 4 tells us that Jesus went through everything we have to go through. Verse 15 says, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have One who has been tempted in every way, just as we are – yet without sin.” Jesus knows what it feels like to be hurt and sad. He knows what it means to experience loss and betrayal. He knows how it feels to be misunderstood and made fun of. He knows how it feels to be hungry and homeless and poor and hated. He has personally felt and experienced every varying degree of human hurt. You are not alone. Whatever you’re going through and however you hurt, He knows. He knows how it feels. He came all the way down here and took all our medicine for us… in fact, He has not only been through our pains, He has known pain and hurt that we who believe in Him will never, ever have to know.

English novelist and playwright Dorothy Sayers said, “Whatever game, he is playing with his creation, God has kept his own rules and played fair. He can exact nothing from man that he has not exacted from himself. He has himself 
gone through the whole of human experience from trivial irritations of 
family life and the cramping restrictions of hard work and lack of 
money to the worst horrors of pain and humiliation, defeat, despair and death. He had the honesty and courage to take his own medicine.”

Sweet Norah after her surgery...



Tonsils and Adenoids out... Tubes in



Little bro




Nomads

“Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself…”

These words, written thousands of years ago by the Sons of Korah stung me this morning. I was sitting in a dim room by myself looking for comfort in the Word of God and this is what I found. Birds have a place to go, a place to call their own. They have their own little place in the world where they can feed their young and settle down to sleep. Birds have a home, but I don’t.

You see, ever since two trees fell on our house, we’ve been staring down the barrel of an impending relocation. That means that while a construction crew comes in to rebuild our damaged home, they will stick us somewhere else. Our relocation specialist worked with a realtor to find us a home to go into. We checked it out and it seemed okay, so we signed the papers. Yesterday we moved in there and it was crazy. Turns out the house previously belonged to a chain smoker, which meant that we were trapped in a giant ashtray, which happened to have an address. All day long we opened windows and burned candles, but we couldn’t escape the smoke and dust that had accumulated over the decades. After many headaches and unceasing coughs, we gave up trying to sleep at around 3:30 AM and by 4:00, Christy was packing boxes!

Over the past few days we have packed, unpacked and packed again. I have acquired and then broken hotel reservations. We have washed our clothes in four different washing machines and cooked in three different kitchens. We have used bathrooms in 6 different houses. I have done walk-throughs on houses and apartments all over town. I have realtors, insurance adjustors, contractors, landlords, apartment managers and relocators on speed dial. We have signed and broken lease agreements and I am now on a first name basis with every person who works in the electrical or utilities department of Oak Ridge… Needless to say, it’s been a wild couple of days.

And there I was this morning at about 5:15 AM looking for some encouragement and solace in the Word, and one of Korah’s boys tells me about how birds have homes… Yeah!? Well what about us!”

With a quaking heart, I continued reading Psalm 84… “O Lord Almighty, my King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in Your house; they are ever praising you. Blessed are those whose strength is in You, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.” There it is. That’s what I was looking for. You see, we’re not really supposed to ever feel at home in this world. I do have a real home… a real nest and it’s not here. My true home is with You, O Lord. While I’m here on this planet, I’m just a pilgrim… journeying. I’m just a nomad, wandering around until I really and truly arrive at home with You. Oh, I can’t wait!

“They go from strength to strength, till each appears before God in Zion.”

Jack, crawling all over the place...





Sweet little hands:



The Axe

As long as I live, I will probably never forget the sound of the trees that crackled, split and crashed onto our house a month ago. I didn’t know at the time what was happening, but I remember feeling that something was wrong, or that I was hearing a very unusual or otherworldly sound. The sound of the splitting was crisp and brittle. It almost had a ring to it. The tree hitting the house was a low, booming thud and then for a second everything was really quiet. I still didn’t know exactly what had happened and then I heard picture frames hitting the floor in our living room and kitchen and without really knowing, I knew that there was a tree on my house. That night, after the sun was down and my friends had finally gotten all of the branches cleared off of the roof, there was one job left to do… get the massive trunk of that oak off of the tripod support holding it up and onto the ground. Once again, I’ll never forget the awesome tremble of the planet earth and the sound that was made when that trunk struck the ground. You know that old philosophical question, “If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around, does it make a sound?” Well, whoever first said that has never actually watched and heard a tree fall. Trust me… it makes a sound.

There is such an air of finality when a tree is cut down and strikes the earth. It may have been 150 or 200 years ago, but at some point that massive tree was just a little acorn small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. Then it went into the ground to die where it germinated, sprouted and started it’s long, slow climb to the sun. For generations it has defied gravity, hoarding nutrients, water and light and spreading out a color-changing canopy over my back yard. Then, after growing and dropping leaves, after enduring droughts and rain, snowy days and summer heat countless times over, the wind blew and it fell. When it fell, it was over. It no longer takes the lion’s share of the water or claims the prime sky space. It’s reign has come to an end… see ya.

I’ve been reading and thinking this week about John the Baptist and how weird he was. I mean, the guy lived in the woods, never cut his hair, wore a camel-skin poncho and ate bugs. Yeah. But not only that, he wasn’t afraid to speak up and tell whoever might be standing there about just how screwed up they were. His whole message revolved around the problem of sin. “People are messed up and you’re one of ‘em.” That was his favorite sermon. He followed it up with, “By the way, you better stop it and turn your self around before you get deleted.” In Luke 3 John the Baptist said this: “The axe is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.” In other words, sin has been germinating, growing and spreading its branches long enough. A day is coming where God is going to cut that tree down and end it forever.

Then John met Jesus. Jesus came to be baptized, except that He didn’t need to be baptized for repentance from sin, because He’d never done anything wrong. John didn’t understand it, but he baptized Jesus anyway. After that Jesus left for 40 days and when He came back, John didn’t refer to Jesus as the fire-flinging, axe-wielding Messiah King. He called Him, “The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” Maybe during those 40 days John read Isaiah again. Maybe he read chapter 53 again and was reminded of the way God was going to deal with sin… See, sin is the problem. And it is like a tree that’s grown out of control, and God was planning to cut it down; but Jesus laid down on that tree and let Himself be nailed to it. He cut Himself down, put Himself through the fire so that we could be forgiven. He died to bring finality to the problem of sin. Now I can change and grow. Soon our Lord will return and then love will reign and never again will sin spread its branches over the endless blue sky.

Norah, Josiah and Anna at the Aquarium

Jack and his buddy, the very famous Sam Warren. You can see more amazing pics of that little dude by clicking here.

Our Favorite Jokes

The next time you start to complain about your situation, stop for a second and ask yourself this: “Hey self, are you currently wearing a big, fat, wooden yoke on your neck?” Then correctly answer yourself by saying, “No, I don’t believe I am.” Then ask yourself this: “Hey again self, are you currently in the dark, down in a cistern, standing up to your neck in mud, unable to recline or rest at all?” Then once again, correctly answer yourself by saying, “No, come to think of it, I am not.”

Lately I have been reading the book of Jeremiah. At times it has been confusing and at times it has been exhausting. Mainly though, it’s just been sad. It’s been sad to watch this lonely guy crying out to his people and begging them to understand the terrible things that are about to happen to them and their families and their homes and their country. It’s been sad watching him beg people to listen to the fact that they have brought this on themselves. It’s been sad to watch them all ignore him and hate him and turn away from his repeated and desperate warnings. It’s been sad to watch the heart of God break over and over again from the neglect and disobedience of His people.

As I read yesterday, the Lord told Jeremiah to put a big yoke around his neck and wear it around town as if he were some kind of farm animal. It was a plea… God’s way to try and connect with those of us who are more visual learners. They didn’t heed the lesson. This dude named Hananiah grabbed the yoke, smashed it and told Jeremiah to shut up. Today I read about how the Lord told Jeremiah to get a guy to write all the warnings down and instead of getting the point, the king cut the paper up line by line and tossed it into the fire. Then they took Jeremiah and basically threw him down in a sewer where he was covered in mud. Wow… talk about a rough day!

We’ve felt a little underneath it all recently… that is, there have been a lot of trials and troubles going on. We’ve had lots of car problems, identity theft, no heat, trees falling on the house and one sick kid after another. It’s easy to complain. It’s easy to get really, really frustrated and feel completely vindicated; but Jeremiah taught me something awesome today that’s helping me to take it in stride. You see, Jeremiah hasn’t had a bad day in over 2,500 years! He has been laughing, singing, resting and feasting for two and half millennia! He probably looks back at that cistern and laughs… he probably thinks back to that ridiculous yoke and cracks up. It’s probably his favorite joke.

In Romans 8 Paul said, “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing to the glory that will be revealed in us.” And look, that is not some wishful thinking to get you to sleep at night… it’s true. There really is a life coming where all of these things we suffer now will do more than disappear… they’ll make us laugh. They’ll be our favorite jokes.

Tender Mercy

“And you, my child, will be called a prophet of the Most High; for you will go on before the Lord to prepare the way for Him, to give His people the knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God, by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven…”

When John the Baptist was born, these were some of the first words out of the mouth of his previously mute father. Mary was still pregnant with Jesus when this prophecy was uttered, but He was almost here. Soon would come the trip to Bethlehem for a poor young couple on their own. Soon would come the Braxton Hicks contractions, and then after that, the real thing: labor. Soon would come Baby Jesus. Soon after that would come some scruffy and wide-eyed shepherds to see the baby in the middle of the night. Were they nervous and awkward while holding Him? Probably depends on whether or not they had kids of their own. The seasoned vets probably showed the young guys how it was done; swaying and shushing the tiny boy, praying and saying a blessing with tears in their eyes, as my dad did over my three babies.

Have you ever stopped to think about the fact that Almighty God allowed people to hold Him in their arms? He allowed dirty fingers to touch His perfect hands. In the Garden of Eden, God made clothes for that first fallen couple, but in Bethlehem God let a fallen couple dress Him. The Word of God allowed people to teach Him how to talk. The Creator of rain and crops let people provide his nourishment. God let old men ruffle His hair and old women pinch His cheeks. He let little kids cut Him in line. He allowed Himself to be ignored, talked about and picked last in dodge ball. He permitted people to mistreat, lie about and betray Him. God let people arrest Him for no reason, torture and kill Him and He never said a word to stop any of it.

He could have thundered. He could have exploded in rage and wrath. He could have dealt out justice for every sin. He could have snapped His fingers and this world would be undone… unmade with a word as it was made with a word, but He never did. Zechariah, prophesying after his son’s birth talked of Jesus and how he would deal with sin by forgiving it because of the tender mercy of our God. He came helpless, restrained, permissive and patient. In His mercy, He made a way for forgiveness without opening His mouth.

In Philippians 2, Paul says, “Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus.” Jesus had every right to respond to sins against Himself with frustration, anger and justice for the sinner, but He didn’t stand on His rights, He stood on mercy. Tender Mercy. We’re supposed to be like Him, which means that we don’t really have the right to any anger, revenge, grudge, bitterness, explosive frustration or even personal justice. We have the right to be tenderly merciful and leave the justice and vengeance to God. In this next year, people are going to drive you crazy and treat you unfairly. They may talk about you or hurt your feelings, but don’t be ruled by your natural response and don’t think only about what’s wrong and right… instead, be like Jesus. Let it all happen. Have mercy.

Quilts

Yesterday my Great Aunt, Jean Pratt went to be with her Lord. She was 92 years old and I loved her. She was really kind of my grandma, because she’s the lady who raised my mom from a young age on up. See, Mom’s parents had both died by the time she was 10 years old and she was taken in by Uncle Sam and Aunt Jean. Aunt Jean was always the cutest and spunkiest person in the room and she had a great laugh. She was the best cook anyone had ever known and always told the greatest stories about the old days in Nashville when Uncle Sam owned his barber shop…

I am flooded with old memories of Aunt Jean, like the time all the cousins were playing hide and seek in the house and Jodie and I hid in the bathtub behind the shower curtain; but before we were found, Aunt Jean came in to use the bathroom… or the many times we sang old country songs and hymns and Aunt Jean patted her leg and sang along with us. I’ll never forget the smell and taste of her chicken and dumplings or the time she fried a whole chicken and I literally sat at the table and ate until it was completely gone. I’ve spent my whole life keeping snug and warm under her handmade afghans and quilts… once she even made one for our dog…

Every night Christy and I still tuck in under a quilt that Aunt Jean made. It’s my favorite quilt in the whole world and quite as old as I am. It’s huge, soft, warm and mainly red, though many other and variously colored fabrics make up the design. A few weeks ago Christy and I were looking really closely at that quilt and talking about how crazy some of those 1970’s fabrics are. The colors clash like mad and some of the patterns are downright hideous. When you really zoom in on the quilt and focus on the cloth that makes it up, you see just how weird it really is. Then you start to see stains, tears, worn out edges and frayed seams. In fact, up close, the quilt is such a seeming disaster of colorblindness and disrepair that anyone might wonder why it hasn’t been stored away…

Something magical happens though, when you zoom out. When you just look at the whole quilt for what it is, (not looking too long at the way pink-ish patterns clash with orange) it becomes something beautiful. Sure it’s frayed and worn and covered in awful remnants of the 1970’s, but as a quilt, it’s perfect. In Romans 8, Paul said this: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him.” God uses everything in our lives, the sweet stuff, the soft and warm stuff and the broken, awful stuff and he sews it all together for our best. He looks at the whole life as a bigger picture, like the way Aunt Jean sewed all those crazy cloths together to make the perfect quilt. Just like the way God sewed all the happy moments and all the hard moments together in Aunt Jean’s life for her best. Now she’s home with Jesus for her best Christmas ever and she gets to see the finished product of all He did in her life. One day I’ll see her again, and when I do, I’ll see my life, not as a series of things broken or sweet, but as it is, the whole of God’s perfect working.

Merry Christmas Aunt Jean. Can’t wait to see you again!



Aunt Jean with Uncle Sam:



Aunt Jean back in her nursing days with some patients:

Whew!

To quote my boy Tom, “I don’t know what people do who don’t have the Lord, and I sure am glad I don’t have to know!”

Before I start this story, let me go ahead and say that everyone is okay… no one got hurt, but last week two trees fell on our house. A few good days of constant rain coupled with unusually strong winds got together to create the perfect storm. There is a creek behind our house with quite a few trees growing on its edge and those fierce winds blew the roots of a humongous and ancient oak and cherry tree right out of the rain-soaked ground and over onto our house. The bonus room off the back of the house where we keep the kids toys was crushed. The roof was punctured in many places all over the house, but that one room was smashed to bits. Sheetrock, insulation and boards were broken, bent and splintered all over the floor. A huge branch had sliced right through the roof and was about three feet from the ground.

The amazing thing was, the house was still standing. In fact, other than that play room, the roof and a hole in our living room ceiling, the rest of the house was really okay. We didn’t even lose power or phone service. We had heat and even the Internet! On its way down, the oak tree grabbed the cherry tree with its massive branches and brought it down as well. As the oak fell, one massive branch struck the ground in the backyard first. Amazingly, this one branch acted like a crutch and held the whole tree in check. Everyone; from the construction crew to the tree guys and all the neighbors who came by said the same thing, had it not been for this one branch, the house would have been chopped in two, down to the ground like a hot knife through butter.

I am so thankful for our church. It really is (and acts like) the family of God! I sent a text message to my boy Joe Pendley, who is sort of a wizard with trees. The experts told me you couldn’t get those trees off of the house in less than five days and you definitely couldn’t do it without a crane. Well, Joe brought five guys, a climbing rope and a chainsaw and had everything finished in seven and a half hours! So many friends gave up their whole day just to help us. I was inundated with calls from brothers and sisters offering food, shelter, babysitting and anything else we could possibly need! Oh man, what do people do without the family of God!?

To top it all off, our precious Father had already shown Himself to be so tenderly in control that whole day. You see, when the trees fell, we were there, inside the house. I had been grocery shopping with Norah and Jack, and when we got home I told Norah to go play in the playroom while I changed Jack and put him down for his nap. She told me, “No Dad, I can’t do that.” I asked her why and she said she needed to use the bathroom. Two minutes later the room I had told her to play in was demolished while she was (thankfully) safe in the bathroom on the other end of the house. After the trees fell, I walked into that room with the shattered ceiling and felt sick, thinking about what almost happened. Praise the Lord. He moves (bowels) in mysterious ways. Again, I don’t know what people do who don’t know the Lord, and I’m glad I don’t have to know…

Psalm 91 says, “I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust... He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge; His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.”

Job Description

Well guess what? Somebody stole my identity. That’s what they call it, anyway. No one actually stole my identity… I mean, I’m still me. In reality, certain items in my personal information were compromised, allowing a complete stranger to open up lines of credit using my name and spend money gobs of money without penalty to them while my credit file swirls around the drain. I used to have this lovely, untarnished and impressive credit score and now (on paper) I look like some deadbeat who ought to be breaking rocks in the hot sun. There are debt collectors from all over Tar nation calling my house telling me that my sob story sounds fishy. Frankly, I think these debt collector guys sound fishy! They’re rude, disgruntled and they know way too much about me! All this business has given me a sudden affection for my thumbs and a desire to keep them intact.

The guy that stole my identity probably won’t get caught and is probably enjoying his stolen merchandise right now. My little sister’s boyfriend worked at a humongous bank and said that if they only lose 10 million a year in identity theft cases, they’re doing okay! WHAT!!?? How messed up is this thing? It’s overwhelming and worrisome to have your identity stolen, but more than anything, it’s just tedious. I have spent days and days on hold on the phone, scouring through the novel that is my credit file, searching for anything and everything that some guy somewhere else illegally did in my name. The whole thing just leaves you with so many questions and you’re not sure what to do… Who should I call? What calls should I answer? How much should I tell them? Will this thing eventually be over? Will it go away?

The sweetest Scripture found me in the midst of all this mess last week. I have been reading through the Psalms and as this storm was breaking open I landed on Psalm 62, which says, “My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken... Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken. My salvation and my honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge. Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge.”

I love this Psalm because it’s like a job description for God. He’s saying that God is my safety, my defender, my protector and my rest. He’s my salvation, which means that He is the way out of messes. He’s the deliverance. He has a master plan, so I don’t have to have the answers, I don’t have to be really clever, I don’t have to be gifted or even wise. I don’t have to be strong because He is my rock. I don’t even have to be responsible… I just get to be His little kid. My honor depends on Him, so I don’t have to prove how awesome I am. My hope comes from Him, which means that He not only knows the future, but sets the future, so I can simply chill, knowing that I’m in good hands. The only thing this Psalm tells me to do is to rest, trust and pour out my soul to God. That’s my plan of action: chill, believe God and tell Him everything I’m feeling. He’ll sort this out… it’s in His job description.

Fun at the Fantasy of Trees with COUSINS!!








Getting Fit

Yesterday I looked in on the weight room at the high school during football workouts. The season only ended a short three weeks ago and already they are back at it… lifting weights and getting in shape. I can still vividly remember doing those same exact exercises with those same exact bars and weights. Sure, it’s been twelve years since I was in the weight room getting in shape for another football season, but power cleans, lunges, and shoulder presses have not changed in the slightest. They still coach the same old technique for the same old lifts that can get a person physically prepared for the unique challenges of football. In fact, whenever I visited practice during the year I watched as new guys went through the same old fundamental drills we did over a decade ago… dip and rip, double team and read drills. Baseball players have batting practice and cross country runners run everyday. If you want to be in condition for those sports, you simply have to do those things; there’s no shortcut and no way around it.

I haven’t been running a lot lately and this past Sunday I played a game called “Crows vs. Cranes” with a bunch of middle schoolers. This game requires a lot of sprinting. You just sprint over and over again, and it’s not that I couldn’t handle the sprinting, because that was fine, but here I am three days later and my legs and back are still sore! Why? Because I’m not in shape! See, when you’re not in shape, you can still run if you absolutely have to, but it’s probably going to mess with the rest of your week, but if you’re in shape, you can run all you need to and you feel fine.

I have been thinking so much lately about the fact that spiritual health is a matter of fitness. Waking with Jesus in a joy-filled and victorious way has a lot to do with whether or not you are in shape spiritually… Look at David. In Psalm 63 he says, “O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water. I have seen you in the sanctuary and beheld your power and your glory. Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you. I will praise you as long as I live, and in your name I will lift up my hands. My soul will be satisfied as with the richest of foods; with singing lips my mouth will praise you. On my bed I remember you; I think of you through the watches of the night. Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings. My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.”

David knew that in order to walk with God, you have to nurture your faith! You have to practice your love for God! You have to work out and condition those beliefs you hold! That’s how you hold onto them. Everyone has doubts from time to time, but what do you do with your doubts? Do you feed them? Do you try to reason with them? Do you nurture them? If so, you may be getting out of shape. I don’t think David allowed his doubts very much breathing room. He didn’t have time to not praise. He said, “I exalt you, I sing to you, I think about you all the time! I cherish you, I long for you and I lift you up!” He’s working out! He’s staying fit, and look what happens… he says, “My soul will be satisfied as with the richest of foods.” Exercise your faith! Get in shape! Life feels better that way.