Jack is eating some solid food and LOVES it... he was going crazy for some eating!!!!!





And poor Norah has been a little under the weather this week, but sweeter than sugar...


Shhh… He’s Sleeping

On almost every day of the week I wake up early, bust out of the house early and start my day before the sun even thinks about coming up; but once a week I stick around and handle diapers, waffles and cartoons. This day is also known as Monday, and it’s Christy’s day to sleep in. On Christy’s sleep day I try to get everyone up, fed and out of the house on some errand or other as quietly as possible so that she can get the opportunity to just sleep until her body wakes her up. Some days we are successful in being quiet enough and some days we explode into such an outlandish cacophony of fits, tears and discipline that I’m surprised the Cops aren’t involved.

If my kids knew how to bribe, they could play me like a fiddle on Monday mornings. They could earn any imaginable amount of underhanded candy and movie time just by threatening a good loud argument over some toy… They could easily work the angles and get triple-decker ice cream cones for breakfast all for the measly price of keeping a lid on it during her Monday morning lie-in, if only they knew how much I am willing to pay for that peace and quiet. You see, nothing pleases my heart more than pulling off a successful sleep day for my hard-working girl; and nothing (and I mean nothing) stresses me out more than unnecessary noises that threaten to prematurely end that same sleep day…

Now, I know this might sound weird, but what if I cared as much about Jesus getting his nap as I do about Christy getting hers? What if I was just as concerned with keeping it quiet so He could sleep the way I am for her on Monday mornings?

You see, a week or so ago I was reading that familiar story where Jesus calms the storm… you know, Jesus was teaching His disciples a bunch of stuff and when evening came He told them to get into the boat and head to the other side. While they were crossing the Sea of Galilee, such a furious storm came over them that the disciples thought they were going to die. In the midst of all this, they realized that Jesus was asleep on a cushion in the stern! They woke Him up, yelled at Him and He proceeded to tell the storm to “Hush,” which it did, and then He rebuked their lack of faith, saying, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” If you’re anything like me, you’ve heard that story a million and five times and every single time, you’ve gotten the same thing out of it… Jesus has the power to calm the storms of my life… right… got it.

But what if that story had gone differently? What if, instead of freaking out, panicking and waking Jesus up, the disciples had quietly grabbed a blanket and shushed each other while trying to cover Him up without waking Him? After all, they didn’t wake Him up so that He would calm the storm, they woke Him up so they could yell at Him right before they all died… but He said they were going to the other side and nothing was going to stop them from making it. What if they had just trusted His words and let Him sleep? What would it look like for me to stop waking Him up in the midst of the storm? What if, in the middle of storms, I stopped trying desperately to solve the problem while losing heart and faith, and instead just quietly trusted my Lord and let Him handle it and rest.

Jack Jack on Valentine's Day!!



Anna had PJ day at school... they ate french toast and pancakes for lunch!


Goal Line Defense

When you become a homeowner, you are immediately thrown into a world of things you have never dealt with. There is a huge learning curve in the areas of terminology, technology and even biology! When I rented an apartment, I was blissfully ignorant of things like lawn maintenance, paint swatches, crown molding and plumbing repair. When something broke or got old, overgrown or worn out, a magical person came in and made everything all better. When I bought a house, I learned about all sorts of things I had never even heard of before like plumbers strap, luan and flux. Before I owned a house, I had never used a reciprocating saw or a calk gun. Before I owned a house I never worried about really heavy rainfall that lasts for days and days on end, and I never even thought about or worried about mold...

When we first walked through new our house with the realtor, we loved it! It was everything we needed in a house and everything we really wanted as well. We prayed and prayed about all of the details and after two weeks, our old house sold for list price and our offer on the new house was accepted! Everything was moving forward like clockwork… and then we had the home inspection. After being down in the crawl space for about thirty minutes, our home inspector said there was some mold on the floor joists… I’ve seen the commercials enough to know that this was a big deal. Our realtor said that dealing with bad, spreading mold is a long, painful and expensive process involving chemists, environmentalists and tons of reports. After reading online, I discovered that being super careful about mold is a relatively new thing for homeownership… as in, the last thirty years or so. Before that, people apparently weren’t too concerned about it… that is, unless you count the Israelites.

Thousands and thousands of years ago (way before anyone knew anything about germs, bacteria and toxic spores) God told His people to be take mold and mildew very seriously. In Leviticus 14 He told them that it is corrosive, insidious and destructive. He told them that mold must not be ignored, but must be quarantined, washed, scraped off or cut out. He told them that if it won’t stop spreading, the only thing left to do is to tear down the whole house and burn the materials, brick by brick and rafter by rafter. Now, I’ve read these verses a bunch of times before, but this week I noticed something strange while reading them again. Leviticus 14:34-35 says, “When you enter the land of Canaan, which I am giving you as your possession, and I put a spreading mildew in a house in that land, the owner of the house must go and tell the priest, “I have seen something that looks like mildew in my house.”

The mold came from Him! God was sending the spreading mildew! He was planting those messed up little replicating destroyers in people’s houses… but why? I thought about it for a long time and came to the conclusion that everything God did with the Israelites was designed to teach them stuff… stuff about Him and stuff about themselves. Like the way thousands of years of animal sacrifices were getting them ready for what Jesus would accomplish on the cross… I think that warning the people about what mildew and mold are like and can do and then telling them how fiercely they had to respond in order to save their houses was a picture of what sin can do to our hearts. I think it was His way of saying that sin is violent and ruthless and when you find it in your life, you have to be decisive and aggressive to get rid of it or it will destroy you. Then He sent them mold as a way to practice responding… like a fire drill in school or like when a football team practices their goal line defense… In the best circumstances, you hope you don’t have to do it, but at some point, you’re going to have to, so you’d better be ready.

HAIRCUTS! Chris cut the girls' hair which makes for a lot of cute...








The Holiest Thing

A couple of weeks ago I was up at church trying to get some stuff done and it wasn’t working out. For one thing, I had a deadline, which was stressing me out. For another thing, everything I started, I threw out… it was all garbage. Not only that, but I was physically drained and draining all the more! My stress was mounting by the second and people kept walking in with questions or calling with problems! I felt myself getting darker and more volatile on the inside with every passing heartbeat. I looked forward in time to the rest of my jam-packed week and despaired because this was going to be my only chance to accomplish this thing, but how was I supposed to do that with depleted energy, repeated failures and constant interruptions?!

Whoa… I was about to tear my own head off with my bare hands when I remembered Norah. You see, being a dad has taught me a few things and one of them is this: There are very few problems that can’t be cured by a big, fat nap. Having a three-year-old is like playing basketball 24/7, but you’re always on defense, and it’s always a full court press. They fall off of couches, tables and major appliances and scream as if being tortured. They trip over thresholds, rugs and toys and scream as if being tortured. They throw stuff, hit themselves with stuff and break stuff and again with the screaming… They get happy and excited really quickly, but they also get scared and really upset with record-breaking speed. Sometimes Norah is just having one of those really weepy days where everything is drama and at some point Christy and I just look at each other and say, “That girl just needs to go to sleep.” And you know what? It works… she slams a big ole nap and usually wakes up cheerful and back to her bouncy little self.

I know, it sounds like something that works great on toddlers but has little to do with you in the middle of your real life, but I don’t think that’s actually true… in fact, this idea that a nap can cure you is Biblical! In 1 Kings 19 Elijah was on the run. He had just defeated and killed the 450 prophets of Baal after the Lord sent fire down to his soggy altar on Mount Carmel. It was the high-point of Elijah's career. He outran a horse-drawn chariot to Jezreel to tell Jezebel that God was in charge and that her days were done, but she was as mean and determined as ever. She told Elijah she would kill him before the sun came up again and filled with fear, he fled. He was traveling 80 miles south through the hot desert and after a while, he just lost heart. He was broken, tired, famished and wound up suicidal, praying for death: AKA, naptime.

He slept a while and woke up to see an angel making him some breakfast. The angel told him to eat, which he did and then he slept again. He woke up again to the same angel cooking it up once more. Again he ate and this time he was strengthened to journey on for 40 days to Sinai, where God Himself whispered to him. I have never personally had an angel cook me breakfast, but I know that when I get to the very end and I’m about to lose my wits, my patience and possibly my friends, the holiest thing I can do is stop everything and take a nap. We are spirit and flesh. Psalm 103 says, “He knows how we are formed, He remembers that we are dust.” In other words, He knows us and knows that sometimes, we just need a little sleep.

Anna playing at the park with Sam and Garrett... thanks Kristin!


Theme Songs

Okay, so I was with the kids at Wal-Mart again when something happened that made Norah start freaking out like crazy, which in turn caused every one shopping for every-day low prices to stare me down… What had I done to this child to make her lose control? Well, Anna and Norah were chewing gum, but Norah dropped hers on the floor. She bent down to pick it up and when she was about to shove it back into her mouth, I deftly swiped it out of her hand… thus, the screaming. As a hundred pairs of eyeballs burned holes in me, I tried to explain to Norah (above her screams) that we don’t eat anything off of the ground, especially at Wal-Mart! She just didn’t seem to understand that there are things we can’t see that are very, very important and have a huge impact on our lives. All she saw was moist, delicious gum, but I was thinking about microscopic landfills of virus-ridden germs collected from the shoes of three surrounding counties… a bacterial nightmare just waiting for that salivary highway.

Our lives are full of stuff we can’t see that we ought to think about a whole lot more than we do. There are spiritual realities all around us that we can’t measure or hold on to, but are real and that matter. Now, usually when people talk about this sort of thing they focus on angels and demons… you know, the spiritual forces that are battling it out in unseen realms. I know, those guys seem really cool and scary super interesting, but that’s not really what I want to talk about… because, while there are beings out there and in here and frankly all over the place waging an invisible war, there is other stuff too. There is heaven, there are those who have gone before us and have rested from their labors, there is God Himself and… there is music!

Psalm 32:7 says, “You are my hiding place; You will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.” Have you ever been watching a great movie and been brought to tears by the music? Have you ever known something bad was about to happen in the movie just because of the way the music changed? You know how certain characters have theme music and when it comes on it just makes you feel certain things… like Darth Vader, Rocky Balboa and Samwise Gamgee? When you see their faces and hear their music, you’re filled with whatever they want you to feel! Well, what if there was a theme song for you?

You see, I believe that when we are in something we shouldn’t be in, or when we go somewhere we shouldn’t go… when we say stuff we should never say or think things we regret like crazy, it’s usually because we forgot that the invisible God is with us and always watching. What if every single time you overcame a temptation or loved your neighbor or opened your heart to Jesus there was a triumphant and beautiful melody that played in heaven? And what if… what if it was your song… only yours? He surrounds you with songs of deliverance. If you could hear that royal tune, you’d never fall again. Strain your ears for it! He’s alive, He’s here and He’s singing! Let the knowledge of the song fill you and strengthen you to stand. One day I’m going to hear my song, and I want it to be familiar!

Trusty and her little dude after dinner last night...


You Haven’t Tried It Yet

Anna has this fixation with being scared lately… as in, she thinks she loves scary stories. She thinks she loves being scared, or being brave while others are scared. Anytime she hangs out with someone she asks them to tell her a scary story. When they say, “A scary story? Why do you want to hear a scary story?” she tells them, “Because I love scary stories!” The truth is, she’s never really experienced anything very scary yet. She’s never heard a really scary story at all. Basically she’s watched a couple of intense scenes in Disney movies that we used to fast forward and so now she believes herself to be un-scare-able. Let’s be honest: Ursula and Scar are not that big of a deal. If she were to come face to face with something that is really bone-chillingly scary, she would freak out… she just hasn’t actually tried it yet.

I think there are tons of things like that in our lives that we write off because we just don’t know and we don’t know because we haven’t actually tried them out. Like the idea that being humble, contrite and sorry when you’re wrong is actually more fun than being right…

On Monday morning I took our three kids to Wal-Mart by myself for a little grocery trip. We take this adventure surprisingly often, so I knew I could do it, but there were several things on that particular morning that made it difficult. For one thing, the girls woke up on the wrong side of the bed. By the way, I used to hear people talk about ‘waking up on the wrong side of the bed’ and scoff, but it’s totally a thing! Some days they are just grumps, and this was one of them. They complained about their breakfast and then didn’t eat it. They complained about their shoes and the fact that they had to wear coats and hoods (it was cold and rainy). They complained about the music in the car and Anna kept dropping something she was playing with and whining about how she couldn’t reach down to retrieve it while buckled up. I was cold and soaking wet from fastening seatbelts in the rain. It was a nine-minute drive so completely packed with huffs, puffs and grumbles that by the time we got to the store, I was at the boiling point!

Somebody said something ridiculous and I lost it. I just lost it. I went off on them and told them what a terrible day it was shaping up to be. My heart was pounding in my chest and I felt like I was going to ‘hulk out’ at any moment… The car was totally silent except for the twenty-seven-pound raindrops hitting the glass and that’s when it hit me: a choice. I had a choice. It was as clear as it was preposterous, but in those moments of silence I knew that I could either stay mad, and ruin that whole morning, or I could apologize to my kids and redeem it. It was right there in front of me, but something held me back…

In Ephesians 4 Paul said, “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.” I was going to have to humble myself before my five-year-old, before my three-year-old, and before my three-month-old! People don’t really do this kind of thing easily. We would rather be right. We’re embarrassed to be wrong… to need forgiveness… to humble ourselves, especially before little kids, but the problem is that we just haven’t tried it yet. You see, I went for it. I turned around and looked at those little sad faces and said, “Guys, I’m really sorry. I was wrong to get so mad. I really love you. Will you forgive me?” Their joy was instantaneous! They forgave me and returned my love and we had a great shopping trip. By the time we came out of the store even the rain had turned to snow! It felt like my heart had done the same thing: the dreary wet became light and beautiful and I was happy… it really works. You should try it sometime!

Patient Love

Yesterday at pre-school Anna had to take a test… already… it’s pre-school, people! Anyway, it was this Kindergarten readiness test where they ask kids to identify letters and numbers, colors and shapes and body parts. They have to write their name, know their parents’ names and recite their address and phone number. Anna did great on the test and is really pretty pumped to talk about all about it, including what she got right and what she missed. Fortunately her teachers didn’t tell her it was a test until the end of the school day, because otherwise she may have freaked out and refused to do any of it. When we got in the car I asked her if it was fun taking a test and she said, “I didn’t know it was a test. I just thought it was my regular school work… so, yeah.” I realized that this was brilliant because some kids like Anna do not like being evaluated… even at age five.

Sometimes when I try to work with Anna on learning to read, she feels tested or pushed and simply shuts down. I’ll be reading along and come to a word she knows and say, “Anna, what word is this?” She’ll usually identify a couple words before she figures out what’s happening and raises her voice, saying, “Dad, I don’t want to do sight words! I just want you to read it, okay?!” Whenever this happens, I find myself getting frustrated because I know she’s right on the threshold of reading and I just keep waiting for her to cross over, but it’s as if she doesn’t want it. All of a sudden there’s this tension because I feel like she’s totally ready to read, but just doesn’t want to, so she just chooses to hold back and stay in the land of non-readers. I don’t push her to try and read after this happens, but in my heart I totally want to and this week I’ve been feeling really bad about that.

I was looking at 1 Corinthians 13:4, that most familiar of verses, that says, “Love is patient” and was trying to understand what that means. It turns out that the word for patient is a word that means ‘long-tempered.’ I know we don’t really use the word long tempered, but we do use the word ‘short-tempered’ and this just means the opposite. A person who loves well doesn’t have a short fuse… they don’t get all frustrated and heated up quickly. This same word ‘long-tempered’ is used in a bunch of places in the New Testament and translated ‘patient.’ I decided to look at some of these to figure out more about what it means to have patient love.

James uses this word in chapter 5 when he says, “Be patient, then, brothers, until the Lord’s coming. See how the farmer waits for the land to yield its valuable crop and how patient he is for the autumn and spring rains?” When I read that I thought about farmers and how they can’t speed up the growth of what it is they want to see… they can only wait for it. They can’t go over to a sprouting corn stalk and start tugging and pulling on it just because they want it to be six-feet tall. They just have to wait. That’s patience, and that’s what my love is supposed to look like. I shouldn’t be pushing and pulling my little girl just because there are things I want to see in her! And when I realized this, I wondered if this is what my love looks like across the board… Do I have a program in mind for everyone in my life? And, am I bringing tension when people don’t line up with my program? We need to have patient love… the love of a farmer. He knows he wants a crop, but he doesn’t push, pull or uproot, he just waits. That’s the way I want to be.

Our Girls kickin' it on the Snow Day... and check it out, we made a 17" snow man. If you wanna see a video of it, check it out on Christy's blog.



The Last Laugh

Last week we reached a parental milestone. We’ve been here three times now and I remember each one very clearly. In fact, every parent I know remembers this particular moment very clearly… Last week Jack slept through the night for the first time. He nodded off at around 8:30 PM and slept until 6:00 AM!! That night was both awesome and stressful: awesome because there wasn’t a tiny human screaming at us multiple times in the dead of night and stressful because well, there wasn’t a tiny human screaming at us multiple times in the dead of night!!! You see, not only does every parent clearly remember the first time their kid slept through the night, but we all remember it for the same reason… when your kid first sleeps through the night, you wake up wondering if they’re still alive!

When my alarm clock woke me up before my son did, I reached over to shut it off in disbelief… “No way it’s time to wake up… Jack hasn’t woken up yet.” When I noticed the time, I silently freaked out and said a quick but extremely intense prayer. Then I snuck into Jack’s room, leaned down into his crib and waited to hear those precious little breaths. When I heard them, I told my pounding, adrenalized heart to chill out and said a prayer of thanks. Parents, you know what I’m talking about… It’s just that life is so fragile for all of us, but especially for babies. You spend literally all of your time just keeping them alive and you always hear stories about SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome) which could be caused by anything and happen at any time! Sometimes when Jack’s little head flops around because of his undeveloped neck muscles I just think, “Oh, please make it out of this fragile state, little guy!” Not only that, but kids are dying… everywhere, from hunger, disease, war and all kinds of other stuff. It’s just so scary and so sad that it can be completely oppressive… until you remember Jesus.

The other day I was reading in Matthew 9 where Jairus’ daughter died and Jesus went to the house. It says, “When Jesus entered the ruler’s house and saw the flute players and the noisy crowd, He said, “Go away. The girl is not dead but asleep.” But they laughed at Him. After the crowd had been put outside, He went in and took the girl by the hand, and she got up.” It struck me that the folks who came to the house to comfort Jairus and his wife in their loss were laughing at Jesus. Right there, in the midst of the saddest thing ever, they were laughing. For us, death is so scary, so powerful, but Jesus said it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be… it was more like sleeping. So they laughed. Out of discomfort and fear, they laughed and Jesus asked them to leave.

But they didn’t have the last laugh… what were they thinking when Jairus shouted for joy and his wife gasped from behind that closed door? How do you think they felt when all of a sudden they heard the laughter of a little girl? Death may frighten us now, but it won’t always be so scary. One day we’ll have the last laugh! One day all the dead in Christ will rise to praise Him filled with the careless joy of indestructible, everlasting life and all those babies will be there! In the words of Samwise Gamgee, one day ‘every sad thing will become untrue.’ In the words of Sally Lloyd Jones, one day ‘even death is going to die.’ Everything scary will become a joke and the last laugh of little boys and girls will fill the universe forever and ever and ever and ever.

No Quitting!

It’s really cold today. I mean, really cold. I did not want to go running in this weather, but I did anyway because I need to. I was talking to Tom about it and he said that running in the freezing cold is the best. He said the only way it could be any better is when you run in the pouring rain and bitter cold. I wondered how on earth this could possibly be a good thing and he said that when you run in those conditions you know for a fact that you are alive… and fully alive. Not like those folks all warm and comfy in their offices with central heating… no, those folks are protecting themselves from life, but not you; you’re in it, feeling it and knowing that you’re fully alive… well I say, “Whatever.” I got out there in that ridiculousness and let me tell you, it’s mainly just really cold.

So there I was, freezing my tail off with sore legs and tired eyes from lack of sleep jogging up and down the relentless hills of Outer Drive when a delicious temptation to stop running came over me like a wave. Look, my entire run was only going to be three miles, and I know that’s not a ton, but I was exhausted and sore with chapped lips and icicles in my lungs. Not only that, but my run was about to go from somewhat hard to really stinking hard. You see, the last few tenths of this particular run are a climb… and not just a climb, but this intense uphill that punishes me without a second thought. I was getting close to the intersection of Outer and Georgia with the big climb looming ahead while this germ of an idea to just walk the rest of the way back was growing stronger every second. I would quit… no big deal, it was just a run. I’ll finish it another day. I can quit…

Then something happened… something changed my plans and pumped me so full of adrenaline that I destroyed that hill with joyful determination! Something went from the depths of my iPod straight into the depths of my Spirit and super-charged me to make it to the end. No, it wasn’t The Eye of The Tiger or Jock Jams. It was an audio Bible… it was someone simply reading the Scriptures that got me, but it wasn’t the end of Isaiah 40 about eagles wings and all that; it was the end of the book of Colossians where Paul sends the greetings of his companions to the church at Colossae. In chapter 4, amid the shout-outs of guys like Mark and Epaphras, Paul says, “Our dear friend Luke, the doctor, and Demas send greetings.”

So, what was it about that verse that got me so fired up to finish? Well, when I first heard it I just felt really sad. You see, Colossians 4 is not the only time Paul mentions Demas… Later on, at the end of 2 Timothy (and the end of Paul’s life) he says, “Do your best to come to me quickly, for Demas, because he loved this world, has deserted me and has gone to Thessalonica.” Demas was a quitter. He fell away because he fell in love with this world! He didn’t make it to the finish line! When I heard Paul so sweetly give the greeting of Demas to the Colossians, I thought about how he didn’t know at that time that Demas would eventually quit and fall away, but I did! I’ve read 2 Timothy and I don’t want to be like Demas! When I heard that greeting, I decided I would never quit walking this walk! Never fall away by loving this stupid old world! And never stop running until I got to the top of this hill! Let’s not quit! Let’s make it, right to the very last.

Counting Stars

One of the things I absolutely love about Anna is how excitable she is. As far as Anna is concerned, everything is a big deal. To her, whatever is going on is a reason to jump up and down, raise your voice or let your face break open in the biggest smile of all time. The other day I discovered that Anna’s preschool was starting back up even though we didn’t know it… I called Christy and told her Anna was going to go to school that day and Christy told Anna… what followed was a complete distortion of the phone speaker due to Anna going absolutely insane with glee at the thought of going back to school in less than an hour! On Norah’s birthday we took the girls to the movies, and most of the time I was just watching Anna’s face explode with incredulous mirth as her mind was being blown at 24 frames per second by the biggest screen she’d ever seen. On Christmas morning our house couldn’t have been any louder if a fire truck had rolled through the living room, blaring its siren; such was the merry making of my little girl.

She just gets so pumped about everything! I’ve grown to love this part of her personality so much that I try to build things up and spring them on her in such a way as to cause one of these outbursts… like when we’re going to the zoo, Christy and I will go in the girls’ room when they wake up and really slowly say, “Guess what guys?” And the girls start to giggle while Anna starts bouncing in place and says, “What… what?” (with increasing volume) So we spread the next sentence out with a pause in between each word for dramatic effect: “Today… we… are… going… to… the………” “To the what, Dad?! Today we’re going to the what?!” “To the ZOO!” And everyone bursts into raucous screams and laughter! It’s awesome, and as a dad, few things get me more pumped than seeing my girl giddy with delight.

I thought about Anna today when I was reading in Genesis 15 about Abraham. I thought about his long life full of dashed hopes and crushed dreams… I mean, a guy with a name that means ‘exalted father’ who has no kids? Come on! I thought about how it had probably been years and years… maybe even decades and decades since he had his mind blown by unexpected joy. God told him, “I am your very great reward.” But Ole’ Abe was grumpy that day and he wasn’t having any of it… he said, “What reward? What can you give me since I have no kids and will never have any kids because You didn’t give me any kids?!” It says then that God took him outside and said this: “Look up at the heavens and count the stars – if indeed you can count them… so shall your offspring be.”

The old man walked outside his tent, craned his neck and peered up into the black sky… what must a cloudless night of stars have looked like 4,000 years before the industrial revolution? What was it like to stare up into thousands upon thousands; no, hundreds of thousands of shining beacons of bright in the middle of the dark knowing that they were there for you? I don’t know, but I bet you anything he didn’t stand there for too long. I bet he laid down on his back in the grass and just watched, counted and laughed. Somewhere in that night of stargazing, faith was born, and I bet it was that super excited faith of a child. It says that Abraham believed God and it was credited to him as righteousness. That night God blew his mind… the plans God had for him were so outrageously bigger than anything Abe would have ever dared hope for that it made him giddy and full of faith. Here at the beginning of a new year, I hope you’re ready for God to blow your mind. The stuff He has planned for you is so much bigger, so much cooler and more amazing than you could ever invent or ask for. Get ready.

Jack and I both thought Penn State would make a better game of it than all that...

Trusty and her boy the day after Christmas...

Anna, Norah and Josiah at Christmas breakfast!


That’s It!

So, Christmas is over once again. You don’t hear as much Elvis or Bing Crosby as you did last week, and no one seems to be wearing crazy felt hats out in broad daylight anymore. The bows have been unbowed, the packages have been unpacked and the stockings have been unstocked. It’s now time for returns, exchanges and after-Christmas sales. If you’re like me, you’re drowning in what seems to be an endless ocean of delicious and chocolaty temptations and you’re on the verge of overdose. After so much anticipation and excitement, Christmas came and once the dust settled through a cloud of wrapping paper scraps and double A batteries, I realized something: No one needs to remind me to remember the real reason for Christmas.

Every year after Thanksgiving church marquees, Christian bookstores and individuals with tons of little silver fishies on their cars work hard to campaign for the true meaning of Christmas. Folks put little red and green signs in their yards that say, “Jesus: The Reason for the Season.” They print this on t-shirts and bumper stickers and even knit it into Christmas sweaters so that everyone will remember (as the Grinch learned) that maybe “Christmas perhaps means a little bit more” than gifts, trees and legends of flying reindeer. And look, its not that I have a problem with this campaign… it’s fine. I think it’s great that they are spreading the word about what we ought to be celebrating; it’s just that I’ve realized it might not be so necessary to be telling everyone all the time what to focus on. See, I think the whole commercial Christmas thing does the job just fine… I mean, haven’t you ever been sitting there at the end of the all the presents thinking, “Is that it? Is that what all the preparation and decoration was about? Is this all there is to it?”

I bet most people walk away from expensive and fancy Christmases feeling as though they are missing something; feeling unsatisfied, like they are thirsting for more. I bet Christmas itself can do a fine job of leading people to desire Christ, simply because Christmas on its own is not very fulfilling. I was reading this week about how a trip to a well made a woman realize how thirsty she was… She went to the well to draw water in the middle of the day so no one would be there. She was hiding. Jesus was there though. He started to talk to her about water and would up talking about life… her life and what it takes to have satisfying, full and eternal life. He offered her water that takes away your thirst forever and ever and she wanted it. She mentioned the Messiah and then He told her He was the Messiah. Then an interesting thing happened… John says, “Then, leaving her water jar, the woman went back to the town…”

She came to the well because she was thirsty and everyday she had to come back for more water. On this day she met Jesus and after meeting Him, she left her water jar sitting at the well. She didn’t need it anymore because she wasn’t thirsty anymore. When Jesus’ disciples tried to get Him some food, He said He didn’t need food because He was filled with something different. So was this woman. Every day she walked to the well for water, drank it and wondered, “Is this it?” Until one day she met the One who gives living water and said, “That’s it!” So, if you find yourself surrounded by new toys and treats but still feel empty and thirsty, it’s because Christmas itself is telling you something… you’re thirsty for a reason. You’re looking for the water that won’t run out, and the One who gave it at a well so many years ago still gives it now to those who thirst.



P.S. today is Norah's birthday!!! She's 3, and she's awesome!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!


Risky Business

Whenever I lay my brand new baby down in his crib to sleep, I am absolutely filled with two equally urgent thoughts: please go to sleep, and just keep on breathing! I know it sounds weird but in the same moment, I want him to be quiet and I don’t want him to be quiet. I want the crying to give way to peace so we can finally chill a little bit, and yet I find myself going back into the room over and over again, leaning down into the crib and putting my ear right up next to his little face to hear those tiny breaths… His little lungs are smaller than a coin purse and his airways are like those little straws people use to stir coffee… sometimes it scares me to go to sleep, because what if… you know? It’s just all so precarious! Babies are so fragile and so many of them don’t make it! It seems like all of our time, energy and money are going towards just keeping this little dude alive… just making it through these early stages until he’s not so delicate.

This is what kills me about the Christmas story. It seems pretty risky! I mean, there were so many points at which this plan could’ve fallen to pieces. What if Mary’s delivery had gone wrong? What if Jesus had been breech? What if the chord had been all tangled up? These things happen thousands of times a day throughout the world, but Mary and Joseph didn’t have a labor and delivery room with heart-rate monitors and a doctor on call. There were no nurses standing by with a heated incubator ready to roll, fully stocked with diapers and those awesome striped swaddle blankets. They were in a stable, or in a cave or maybe on the street beside some house because they found a feeding trough where they could lay the baby in some straw and Joseph could lean down and listen to Him breathing.

It just doesn’t seem like a rock-solid plan, you know? I mean, what did the shepherds think when they learned from the angel that Christ was born and lying in a manger? I know they were probably still shaking in their boots from the terrifying sight of winged couriers on fire, but wouldn’t they have felt it strange that God had placed all His eggs in one pretty vulnerable little basket? Surely the Messiah should be in some high security crib surrounded by Israeli secret service, right? What was the King of heaven and earth doing in so dangerous a situation?

Well, the truth is that it wasn’t precarious in the least. Sure, babies are fragile; and yes, tons of them don’t make it, but this One was going to make it, no matter what. Why is that? Because God said so. He said so in the Garden of Eden right before Adam and Eve got booted out. He said so to Abraham when He promised the One who would bless all nations. He said so through Moses when He promised a true prophet. He said so when David sang about the coming King of Psalm 2 who would laugh at rulers and dash nations. He said so when David sang about the victorious warrior in Psalm 45 who would ride forth in behalf of truth, humility and righteousness. He said so in Daniel’s vision of the worshipped and mighty Ancient of Days. He said so when Isaiah told Ahaz that the sign and solution to all his problems would be a child who is God, born to a virgin. He said Christ would be born in Bethlehem and that His Son would be called out of Egypt, and it all happened, just as He said it would.

In Ephesians 1:11 Paul said that we were predestined “according to the plan of Him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of His will.” Dave Roper said that there is no maverick molecule in this universe. The Christmas story seems risky, but it wasn’t. And the same is true for us… sometimes it looks like everything’s falling apart at the seams, but it isn’t. He’s still in control, still running the show, still ordering and allowing everything in your life that comes into it and it’s all in line with the purpose of his will… His good, pleasing and perfect will. And that is why no matter where you are or what’s going on, you can have a Merry Christmas.

Our good friend Erin took our family pics at Judy's house...


Smells Like Home

Last Saturday I was walking beside Christy at Dollywood as I was stopped in my tracks by an amazing smell that came straight out of my childhood… no, it wasn’t the funnel cakes, (although that’s about the most delicious smell ever) it was something totally different… burning coal. I know, you probably don’t think burning coal is an amazing smell, but for me, it is. You see, my dad is a blacksmith. He literally owns two forges, a few anvils and tons of hammers, tongs, pliers, leather aprons and all kinds of really manly stuff like that. As a kid I would watch him take scraps of black and useless steel and pound them into works of art with fire and force. It was pretty awesome. I love watching the rock-hard metal turn bright orange in the belly of the white-hot coals. I love watching the sparks fly as the hammer beats shape to rhythm. I love hearing the hiss of the hot steel being plunged into a bucket of water to cool, and I love the smell of the coal.

When I smelled the coal of the blacksmith shop at Dollywood I was instantaneously transported back to the house where I grew up. For a moment I was a kid again. I didn’t have any bills or responsibilities and my only worries were getting to the park in time for the pick-up football game and finding all my darkest clothes before sunset for a nighttime game of capture the flag. It only lasted a moment, but that smell made me feel at home.

The other day I was reading the story of the baby Jesus being brought to the temple. I can’t even begin to imagine what it must have felt like for the Creator of the Universe to be trapped in the uncontrollable body and consciousness of an eight-day-old baby. How far had He come? How trapped and inhibited did He feel? He was helplessly wrapped in whatever scraps of cloth were lying around and carried six miles down the road from Bethlehem to Jerusalem by a couple of teenagers who were scared out of their minds. How awkward, uncomfortable and out of sorts must He have felt coming into the temple? And then He smelled it… worship.

Over and over again the Old Testament talks about how the sacrifices that took place in the tabernacle and then in the temple were fragrant offerings to God. The temple was like a barbeque that never closed… it must have smelled awesome! But I don’t think it was the roast lamb or beef that smelled so good to the Lord. He loved the smell of contrite hearts offering prayer, praise and gratitude with love. Maybe it reminded Him of home… His home, where angels never stop offering worship. And even though we don’t have the temple anymore, our worship is still the smell He loves. Hebrews 13 says, “Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise – the fruit of lips that confess His name.” When the baby Jesus entered the temple, what if the prayers and singing of His people were the smell that made Him feel at home in this cold, lonesome world? What if the songs of Simeon and Anna took Him back to the songs of angels?

I’m not finished with my Christmas shopping yet and there are less than ten days left until Christmas… I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out what to get so and so, trying to remember what I got them last year and wondering if there’s anything I have received that’s re-gift-able… shhh, don’t tell. But I know what to get Jesus. It’s the thing He smelled when shepherds bowed. It’s the gift He opened when an old man held Him and sang… He wants to smell prayer, praise and gratitude. He wants love for Christmas.



And here is a family portrait drawn by Anna... complete with a big 'ole heart!

With Us

Anna is one of the most excitable people I’ve ever known. Tell her she’s going to the zoo or going to get ice cream or going to Wal-Mart to get new socks and she lights up like a Christmas tree, exponentially increasing in volume. Sometimes she bounces off the walls with such pure joy that it can be exhausting to be a spectator. Sometimes she flits around the house, jumping off of the furniture and dancing with wild abandon and then sometimes she gets shy and won’t really move. Sometimes she laughs out loud like it’s going out of style and then sometimes she won’t even make eye contact. So, what’s the story? Why does she go from totally hesitant to complete dare devil? Why does she fluctuate from boisterous to bottled-up… from fearless to fear-filled?

Well, It’s simple really. When we’re with her, she’s fearless. When we’re not, she’s not. If Christy and I are there to catch her, she’ll jump with all of her might into the air from the fourth step up. If our arms are outstretched, she’ll leap off the edge of the pool every time. If we are breaking it down to her favorite Beatles song, she’ll dance like John Travolta, laughing hysterically! But if we’re not around… if we’re not with her, she’s not jumping, not diving and definitely not dancing. In order for her to cut loose and be free and full of life she only needs one thing: she needs us with her. If we’re with her, she’s good to go.

This attitude of Anna’s is really a very Christmas-y one to have. After all, Christmas is all about God coming to be with us… it’s the reminder that we could never be who were made to be without Him. After Matthew tells us about Jesus’ birth he says, “All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: “The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call Him Immanuel” which means, “God with us.” Jesus was born… God was here, on this earth.

It struck me this week that although the birth of Jesus fulfilled what Isaiah predicted, it wasn’t totally fulfilled until after Jesus’ death and resurrection. I mean, when Jesus was born, God was on earth, with a body and a voice and an address, but He wasn’t with everyone at all times. One time Mary and Joseph accidentally left the teenage Jesus at the temple in Jerusalem and panicked when they realized that He wasn’t with them. When Lazarus was dying in Bethany, Jesus wasn’t with Him, and He was glad He wasn’t with Him so that His disciples would believe. When Joseph of Arimathea laid Jesus’ body in a tomb and sealed it with a stone on a Friday night, Jesus wasn’t with anyone. He was dead and gone… but then Sunday came, and He arose.

2,700 years ago the prophet Isaiah made a prediction that a virgin would give birth to a Son who would be called, “God with us.” 700 years later a virgin named Mary did give birth to a Son. 33 years after that He died on a cross, and three days later He rose form the dead. Now He is alive forever and is really ‘God with us.’ Because He died and rose again, He can be with everyone who wants Him all the time. He can come all the way down inside our hearts to be with us… making us free, making us strong and giving us everything we need to make it through this life. Don’t you need Him? Don’t you want Him with you always? He wants to come in and be Immanuel… God with you.

Two very excited girls about getting ready to decorate the Christmas Tree!!


I’ll Do Anything!

During the past week, something has happened that has totally changed my life. I mean, it’s happened to me two other times in my life as well, but whenever it happens, I’m never prepared for it. When it happened the other day it made my heart skip a few beats and made my mind race. I may never be the same person again. Honestly, I cried a little… so, what was it? What was this earth-shattering, paradigm-shifting thing that happened? Ready? Okay… Jack smiled.

When you find out you’re going to have a baby, you experience this tornado of emotions, that depending on your plans and your place in life can be either really exciting, really scary or some strange alloy of the two. Then you go to your first pre-natal care appointment and they use this little JV ultrasound to let you hear the baby’s heartbeat and you’re in love. Whatever you were before that moment, you’re in love now. Over the next few months you get to see fuzzy black and white images of what is either your baby or a tadpole clinging onto a beanbag. The images become more and more human-like or rather, your baby does, and so your excitement builds. Finally, your baby arrives… after much toil, trauma and sacrifice, your baby is in the world and in your arms and there is nothing in this life that compares with that moment.

Then you go home and they scream all night long. You trudge through your days on the kind of sleep that tortured prisoners of war get and then change so many diapers and outfits that washing your hands becomes a reflex, like blinking or something. The whole time you’re thinking about how you love your baby more than anything, but soon you will be dead, and then it happens... You’re holding this person that has relentlessly taken absolutely all you have without ever saying “Thank you” or “You rock, Dad” and just when you are about to lose hope of making it through this season of life, they smile. He smiled at me. It wasn’t gas and it wasn’t an accident. You can tell the real ones. He smiled at me and everything was okay.

Since that time, I am a new man. I am not kidding, I would do anything to get this boy to smile. In the past week, I have made the craziest faces that a human being can possibly imagine without the aid of photoshop. I would sing, coo, jump up and down, hit myself on the head with whatever is around… you name it! If I could get Jack to smile by eating cold spam drenched in yogurt and balsamic vinaigrette, I’d do it right now… right now. Now that I know it’s possible to make him smile, it’s all in the world I want.

When I realized the change that’s happened inside me and recognized the fact that all I want is to make that little dude smile, I thought of David as a teenager writing the words of Psalm 19, “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.” It’s possible for us to make God smile. It’s possible to please His heart and to put a smile on His face. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want to make Him smile more than anything else out there?! Isn’t the thought of pleasing Him the most exciting and intoxicating thought ever?! Don’t you want His smile like you want air? You can have it! You… right there where you are in the middle of your life… you can make God smile. Wouldn’t you do anything to see Him smile?

Anna and Jack on Thanksgiving, right before we headed out to Nan's


The Stone

Lately Anna has been collecting rocks. I know, that sounds like it could be very cool and in fact, some folks I’m sure have incredible rock collections filled with unique and highly interesting specimens, but that’s not what Anna’s doing… no, she just picks up regular old, random bits of gravel and gives them cool names like, “The Golden Stone.” I understand why she loves baby dolls and stuffed animals… I mean, they’re soft and cute, but why rocks?

Well, she may be onto something. Rocks may be cooler than I once thought. See, I have been thinking this week about the stone that rolled away from the entrance of the tomb where Jesus was buried. We don’t know a whole lot about that stone… Mark says that it was “very large,” while Matthew tells us it was “big” and that the guards posted at the tomb put a seal on it. We know that as evening approached on Friday, Joseph of Arimathea rolled it in front of the rock-hewn tomb after they laid Jesus’ body there, and that’s pretty much it until Sunday morning. I have been thinking about that Friday through Sunday morning… what dark days those must have been. I bet they were gloomy, soggy and gray days. The disciples were huddled up in secret wondering if they were next and for the first time since it was made, the world was without Christ.

I wonder what that stone was thinking… I know, I know, rocks aren’t alive. They don’t have brains and therefore cannot think, but suspend all that for just a minute and hang with me. Just a week before all this happened Jesus told some guys that if people stopped praising Him, the rocks would cry out. Was Jesus anthropomorphizing? Was He speaking figuratively, knowing that there would always be people praising Him? I don’t think so. I think He was serious. I think that if everyone on earth were to stop praising the Lord, rocks would start singing! If Jesus had obeyed the priests during the triumphal entry and told all the people to stop praising, I believe the limestone and granite of Jerusalem would have invented Rock n Roll long before Elvis ever entered the building.

So, what was that stone thinking as it sat there all sealed up, flanked by guards from Friday night through Sunday morning? Just about everyone who loved Jesus spent those days cowering in fear instead of lifting up praise… was every tongue on earth silent? What if that stone was getting ready to sing? What if it was champing at the bit to declare the praises of the One who came and died? What if that stone started shaking and creaking a little bit by Saturday afternoon? What if, in the middle of the night it just started moving a little and straining at its seal as dawn approached? Matthew 28 says that, “There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it.”

Matthew tells us that the guards were so afraid that they passed out as if they were dead. Of course they did! They had been standing there with that freaky stone creaking and shifting all night long! Matthew says the angel rolled the stone back and then sat on it. I bet he didn’t have to push very hard. In fact, I bet he sat on it to keep it from rolling away at a break-neck speed, coursing through every little town to sing out, “Death is done and Christ has won!” While everyone was crying and full of despair, a stone said it first. It sat beside an empty tomb. The tomb wasn’t really even a tomb anymore. The death was gone, the seal was broken and the light was shining in. I want to be like that stone! I want to be the first one to declare it today! I want to be different than I was… Don’t you?

He Knows

Do you know what it’s like to try and wake up in the middle of the night when you’re absolutely worn out? Do you know what it’s like to be so tired that you would gladly endure tortures upon waking if you could only sleep a bit more? Do you know what it feels like to have eyelids that aren’t merely heavy, but wrought of barbed steel, oppressive in both weight and pain? Do you know how sweet it feels to close eyes like that and simply go back to sleep? If you’ve ever had a newborn baby, you know what I’m talking about. You know what it’s like to hear a little choke in the middle of the night, fly out of the covers and try to hustle over to the bassinet while you stumble and sway in delirious confusion because your equilibrium is nowhere to be found. You know it’s like to be so tired that you honestly believe death is next. Well, that’s where we are right now with our new baby, and if you think I’m being overly dramatic, it’s because I am exhausted!

I always want to be the most involved and helpful dad I can, which means that I try so hard to wake up and help Christy in the middle of the night when Jack is awake to eat or be changed. Sometimes I’m right there when she needs me, ready with a diaper or ready to swaddle him back up for sleep, but many times Christy looks over and sees me dead on my pillow while she looks after our boy. Well, the thing she doesn’t know is that even though I appear to be peacefully sleeping, I am actually waging a war inside my head. Part of me is screaming, “Come on! Get up!” While the rest of me is saying, “You don’t know the power of the dark side!” I try so hard to get up, but sometimes it seems like I just can’t. Christy could be dead to the world and if Jack breathes too heavily she’s fully awake, but there are times I wouldn’t wake up if Jack were wielding a chainsaw in the middle of a circus. Christy is always super sweet about it of course and encourages me to just stop fighting it and go to sleep, but still the battle rages on.

Yesterday I was reading about the night of our Lord’s betrayal in the garden of Gethsemane in a book by a guy called G. Campbell Morgan who was one of the most awesome preachers and thinkers around the turn of the twentieth century. He was talking about how Jesus kept finding His best friends asleep in the moments of His greatest agony and sorrow and the way in which He dealt with them. If you read Mark 14 in the NIV, you get the feeling Jesus is chewing them out for sleeping. He says, “Are you still sleeping and resting? Enough!” But Campbell Morgan says there may be more to the story. You see, the Greek text didn’t have all those question marks and exclamation points. He said it could be read, (and in fact reads this way in the KJV) “Sleep on now and take your rest: it is enough…”

Wanting to get to the bottom of this, I looked up that word ‘enough’ in the Greek and it’s a word that means ‘to have’ or ‘to receive.’ It’s used in Matthew 6:5 when Jesus says that people who pray in public to be seen by men “have” their reward in full. So, Jesus wasn’t really saying, “You’re still sleeping? Enough!” as in, “Stop it already!” He was probably saying, “You’re still sleeping? It’s okay… have it… receive that rest.” It was like He was saying, “You can’t watch with me for one hour? That’s okay. Rest up. I know you want to, but your body is weak and tired. It’s okay; Judas isn’t here yet. I’ll stay up and watch.”

When I realized this, I burst into tears! How many nights has Christy taken care of Jack while I furiously wrestled my own heavy eyes and gave in to sleep?! Oh the number of times she has looked at me with that motherly calm and said, “Just go to sleep, baby.” Campbell Morgan said that in this scene we see the motherly affections of our Lord. Wow. This is what I love about Jesus… that even in the moment of His deepest distress when He was staring down the barrel of the wrath of God, He’s motherly in tenderness and care. When I’m sleepy and ought to be awake, He knows. He knows we are but dust and He cares for us even still.

One Smile

A month ago my baby boy was born and not only was this an awesome event in its own right, but it also meant that I had a legitimate reason for missing my 10 year high school reunion… Whew! That was a close one. Old acquaintances were like, “Lee, are you going to the reunion?” And I was all, “Oh no… I can’t. We just had a baby… man, hate I missed that!” It saved me from having to give the real reason, which is that I just really didn’t want to go! Look, it’s not that I’m hateful or that I look back on high school as a terrible experience or anything… it’s just that high school reunions seem to me like a big race or contest. I mean, high school was a big enough race on its own, right? Who’s the coolest? Who’s the most beautiful? Who’s going to get the best grades or into the best school? Who gets the most girls? Who can lift the most weight or run the fastest mile?

Then college comes and you get to start all over in a world where no one’s really competing… everyone’s just trying to make it. Then you graduate and get a job and before you know it, ten years have flown by and you’re supposed to go back home and hang out with all those old people you used to compete against or were mean to. The only difference is that now everyone can legally drink a beer. I just imagined this awkward evening filled with conversations about important mergers and innovative manufacturing techniques with guys pretending to like the taste of champagne. I wondered if anyone would jump to their feet in the middle of it all and suggest that everyone grab a slushy from Kenjo and carpool out to laser tag (because that’s what everyone really wanted to be doing).

The thing is, I’m sure no one did that, and I bet the reason has something to do with the fact that we’re all still trying to impress each other. We’re all still in high school trying to have the best outfit or the coolest car. And I’m not just talking about my peeps from the class of ’98… everyone is like this to some degree. We’re all trying to please someone and some of us are trying to please everyone. This of course is impossible and often leads us to do or say the things we hate the most about ourselves.

This week I was reading Mark 14, which opens up at a dinner party in Bethany where Jesus was the guest of honor. It was in the home of a guy called Simon the Leper, which is interesting because lepers didn’t usually throw parties, but maybe Simon used to be a leper and was healed by Jesus, so he showed his gratitude by having Jesus over and inviting all his friends. When I picture this atmosphere, I can’t help thinking about the reunion I missed. Maybe the place was filled with people Jesus had healed and who had not been together since before they were sick. Either way, it was a party; and wherever people are gathered together, everyone is watching and everyone is on stage…

Mark tells us that in the middle of the festivities a woman came in with a jar of perfume worth anywhere from 20 to 40 thousand dollars. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on Jesus’ head. The music stopped, the people gasped and the fragrance filled the air. It was uncool. It was awkward. It was humiliating for everyone. She was bowing down and worshiping Jesus in the middle of a crowded room! All the other guests had spent the night trying to be the coolest and she was making herself the lowest. She honored Jesus in front of everyone and she got made fun of. She got chewed out. People said she was stupid and irresponsible, but she didn’t care. Why? She wasn’t racing anyone. She wasn’t trying to please anyone but Him… her Lord. She was after One smile, and you know what? She got it. Jesus said, “Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me… wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”

What if you only cared about pleasing One person? What if you honestly didn’t care what anyone else thought about your life? What if you weren’t trying to please them, but would do anything to get the smile of Jesus? His is the One opinion that matters and as long as it’s the only one you want, it’s the One you can know you have.

Here are the girls with the Jack-o-lantern they designed. And here's Jack (not-so-lantern) as a bumblebee for trick-or-treating:

I think his first Halloween was a bit underwhelming... He slept the entire night and then didn't eat any candy on account of the lack of teeth and all.


A Life of Love

A couple days ago a sweet brother went home to be with our Lord. Mr. Wallace was 88 years old. His daughter Diane has been one of our family’s sweetest friends; and the more I learn about her dad in these days, the more I see why she’s so sweet. On Monday, as Di walked me to the elevator at the hospital, she told me that her daddy was her buddy and that he was always sweet and loving. His kids said that he was always singing… that his beautiful baritone voice was always lifting up Jesus. Diane said that she used to love to harmonize with him. They say he made every one of his kids feel like they were the only one in the world. They knew their daddy loved them.

The other day I was reading in Mark 13 where our Lord said that there are days coming where the sun will be darkened and stars will fall from the sky. He said that the universe is going to be shaken and that everyone is going to see the Son of Man coming with great power and glory. When I read it I realized two things: Number one, I can’t wait for that day! I’m so ready to go home and leave this old busted world to be with the One who loves me like nobody else! Number two, I don’t have too many days left! You see, Jesus went on in the next few verses to say that no one knows when this Day will come, therefore, “What I say to you, I say to everyone: Watch!”

We may not have very many days left! We may not have too many more chances to be sweet, loving and always singing praises. When that Great Day comes and everyone everywhere sees our Lord firsthand, don’t you want to be known for love? Don’t you want to be famous for being sweet? Don’t you want to have the reputation of one who just can’t help singing His praises? That’s the kind of guy Mr. Wallace was.

You know, there are so many people who have spent their whole adult lives recovering from their fathers… desperately clawing to get out from underneath the oppression of needing and not achieving his approval. Don’t you want to be like Mr. Wallace? Don’t you want the people in your life to know that you love them? It is no small thing to be sweet. It is no small thing to sing praises. It is no small thing to give love. In Ephesians 5 Paul says, “Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave Himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.”

There is a Day coming that Jesus said to be on watch for. I don’t think that means grabbing your telescope every night and waiting for all the stars to fall with the shaking of the sky. I think watching for the Day is about being ready. In other words, whatever you want to be on that Day, start being that person today. You want to be known for singing? Sing! You want to be known for sweetness? Sweeten up! You want to be able to look your Savior in the face as one who is famous for love? Then go ahead and start loving! You may not have long to live a life of love.