Skipping Church

For the first Sunday in over a year, I will not be gracing an auditorium, cathedral or sanctuary as we travel home from the feast week called Thanksgiving.  This beckons the inevitable question is skipping church ever healthy? 

So before I get myself in the deep messes of life, let me say, I love church.  It is what I have given my life to.  I believe church is a place of healing, hope, and salvation. But for church-folk like me, is a week away a bad thing?  Now I am missing my Sunday routine, because I am creature of routine, but sometimes being able to step away from the routine re-aligns our vision to why we do what we do. 

Most of us who do "church" can get caught up in doing "church".  One more Sunday of serving, shaking hands, eating pasteries, singing songs and then repeat the next week. We treat our church routine like our daily routine of washing hair.  While vitally important to what we do, it falls simply into the pattern of what we do. Sometimes absence does make the heart grow fonder, or at least more aware of what it is and why it is we do this thing called church.  Church truly is the gathering of God's people, which can be lost in the busyness of the Sunday routine.

So this Sunday I have broke routine.  I will spend my Sunday in a car traveling the roads returning back home with a renewed perspective on why I show up every Sunday to the place called "church".  Church is not what we do, but it is who WE ARE!

Let Thanks Begin

Due to the excess of holiday schedules and time off at my place of employment we are feasting for thanks tomorrow. In reality Thanksgiving is the speed bump from Halloween to Christmas were we are only slowed down by that triptofeeling stuff in turkey. So it got me thinking what on earth am I thankful for.  Here is a list:

*Salvation
*My family
*Matching Socks (nothing worse than a lone sock)
*The invention of electricity
*Sleep (at least in intervals)
*The certainty of uncertainty (at least I am sure of one thing)
*Losing 40 pounds in two years

Giving thanks for the most part is the ability to slow things down, to take a picture of what life really holds.  As a people we move at the speed of sound times the speed of light.  Most often we probably miss all that we have to be thankful for.  So maybe add some more triptofeeling stuff to your diet, take a nap, wipe the drool from corners of your mouth as you wake and realize we have a whole lot to give thanks for.

My Songs

In my life there is a marriage between creative thought and music.  Most likely this started as a young kid while creativity was in abundance and Mtv was brand new and strictly forbidden in my house.  But in my rock 'n roll rebellious ways we would sneak off to watch the top 10 videos to see if Stryper could dethrone the kings Bon Jovi (how could God not like a song titled "Livin' on a Prayer"). So we would ride bikes singing loud about the 4th grade heart-breakers who "gave love a bad name" and how bad we were that we were wanted "Dead or Alive". We wore our denim coats with a wife beater wishing we had hair like down the middle of our backs with poofy bangs.  It was our rocker dreams lived out with drums made out of ice cream buckets. Yes, I am child of the 80's.  C'mon girls - admit your secret Madonna wardrobe you rocked out...

While on more than one occasion I have been told music is not in my future - including 5th grade band teacher, lead guitarist from Third Day, and now Grammy and Dove winning producer Nathan Chapman.  So I am grown enough now to admit I am never going to make it in L.A. or even Nashville, what it does not change is that I have a song.  I love what psalmist David wrote - "sing a new song unto the Lord."  Thank you David for permission to not clap on beat - not on the 2 or 4, but closer to one and three quarter and maybe two and five-eighths.

I think we all have a little Taylor Swift inside of us: the want to take our life experiences and put them to melody. While most of the world does not have the talent to make stories about broken hearts and broken bones into record breaking records, I think there is something freeing in finding the melody of your life.  My songs spill out not in three and half minutes smash hits, but sometime in 40 minute messages to crowds of people.  Sometimes it is in the written randomness of this blog.  But it is my expression.

While somewhere inside me there still the desire to rock out like Jon Bon Jovi - I have accepted that my songs may never make the radio...

Something Important

What I have often found incredibly interesting in life is our measurement of importance.  What for one person might be of great importance (i.e. the Cubs winning a World Series in my lifetime) is more like page 6 news to someone else.  Now I have not thought long and hard about how we scale importance in our individual lives, but without question there is a scale.  And that scale functions as key component in our decision making process.

The things we find important we do, the things not so important get pushed aside.  Now understand, I am King of the land of procrastination and I have ruled over this land for many years.  But even amidst my delaying the inevitable, I still have a sense of necessity to do that thing of importance.  So the question stares me in the face how do we take something that for so many and for so long has ranked low on the scale and make it higher.

As part of a church planting team this seems to be the cyclical discussion much like the chicken and the egg.  Here in Lexington with all the seeming trappings of a Southern city, church attendance has somehow been subtracted out of the Southern hospitable ways.  So what we face is trying to move going to church and being a part of church up the scale of importance.  Church has to surpass some big competition such as sleeping in, Sunday brunch, and every other mounting task that gets placed on the balance of life as important.

As an insider of the ways of church, I realize that going is a critical part of this life we call following Jesus.  I also recognize that it is not the only part of being a Christian, but a small piece to the whole.  But without question, the large group gathering is still in America the place where most will make a decision to follow Christ.

So here is my unthought out gut reaction to the question posed of making church going for un-chruched going folks important.  You are important enough!  Not profound but true.  Most people go to church for the first time because someone they know, like and trust invites them.  Most don't go because they feel a need to be in "church".  Most go because someone important invites them and that raises it up the scale of importance.  If you want to make going to church important for someone that it is unimportant to invest and invite.

A man named Ehud

At LifeGate Church we started as series entitled "Drive-In - Stories of Biblical Proportion" and Pastor Ashley retold the Old Testament story of Ehud.  What makes this story one of those great biblical stories is that Ehud stabs an enormously obese fat king and the fat of the king's belly swallows the sword.  Then all the king's attendants just think that the king is on the "throne" (if you catch my drift) before finding him dead.  It is are really odd and cool story!

Here is my point - Ehud was left handed.  Now in our modern culture this seems like no big deal, but thousands of years ago it was treated like a curse.  Even some fifty years ago, teachers would smack the knuckles of children trying to use their left hand to write.  My kindergarten teacher asked me what hand I threw a ball with I said my right and then proceeded to pick up my pencil with my left.  This was immediately tried to be corrected, but to this day, I write and eat left handed and threw a ball right handed - now you see where the oddities of my brain surface from.

Nevertheless, what everyone else saw as a curse or a handicap in the life Ehud turned out to be the very thing that God used to rescue not just Ehud, but all of Israel.  We all have an Ehud-ness about us.  We all have that thing that seemingly stands in the way of our success.  I have often heard people say that in spite of that thing, they succeeded.  But what if through that one thing everyone else say is a roadblock or a handicap would be the one thing that brought success in your life.  While my head is searching for all these examples of what someone's Ehud-ness might be, it could be anything.  Anything that we or someone else has looked at and said that will be the thing that holds them back. But in reality, it might just be the one thing God chooses to use.

It is the details of this story that I find most interesting.  Ehud had his sword strapped to the inside of his inner right thigh, a place where only a south-paw could draw from.  What if God set you up in such a way that whatever is seemingly your handicap, your obstacle in your life is set up just so only you can use it to win with and not in spite of.  Take it from a fellow lefty!

Firsts and Lasts

The blog has been empty for some time due to life and my laziness.  But in those moments that I have been away there have been some life moments that will never happen again.  In that moment I realized that I was seeing something very special.

During the past three months we took on the roll of typical American parents.  We have three lively and wonderful children.  The two boys consumed our spring and early summer with the grand ole' game of baseball and the four year old princess got her groove on in a dance recital.  It was a season of first's.  First base hits, first dances, first win, first losses.  It was a season of life filled with heart ache and joy.

And at the exact same moment of all these first came the realization of all the lasts.  Raising three kids and calling it quits there (more of them than us created a zone defense rather than man to man) made me realize that these very same moments were lasts.  While there will be other moments in life for firsts, these were the last first base hits, the last first dance recitals.  That coupled together were first and last moments in one, maybe not last for my kids as they will hit again and dance again.  But for me as a parent these were some last firsts.  It made me appreciate that moment in time for my kids and for myself as a parent.

This has caused the awkward realization that with every first of Andrew my oldest, comes the last with Avery my youngest.  There will be a day soon that we have to navigate a first day of middle school and on that same day navigate our last first day of kindergarten.  Each high school experience will end with one's senior year and another's freshman year, until there is just one high schooler left.  The road ahead for us will be filled with the beautiful moments that at the very same moment in time is a first and a last.

Mountains, Valleys, and Places In Between

"Ain't no mountain high, ain't no valley low" are the words belted out in 60's soul song.  But the truth is there are mountains high and there are valleys low.  And many days we trek through them.  A mountain top is that pinnacle, peak experience of jubilation and joy.  While the valley may be summed up best by the psalm "though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death" primarily because a valley feels like dying. 

Yet, while we climb mountains to great moments and we fall deep into desolate valleys, the majority of our lives are spent somewhere in between.  Caught between your wedding day and that first big fight are all the days of living.  Smashed between your first day of college and the anxiety of your final finals, is four years of living.  Sandwhiched between a baby's first breath and an old man's last are all the days of the in-between.  While the mountains and the valleys are usually the easiest memories to pull from, don't miss the moments in-between, otherwise you might just missed the majority of life as it happens. 

So many times our focus sets on the big moments - whether big wins or big losses - and we lose sight of all the moments that are found in between ascending and descending hills. It is often the places in-between where we are shaped the moments.  I have found in easier in life to worship on the mountain top in the Moses' moments of God's glory.  In the same I have found prayer easier to come by in the depths of personal hells.  Where we have to tough it out is when life is life.  When life is not throwing a curveball, but giving us our daily dose of the every day.  It is in those moments where instead of being without option and sensing the necessity of going to God, that we have to "chose" who or "what" it is we will worship or pray to. 

The toughest roads are not the climb to the top or the tumble down, oftentimes the terrain that requires the greatest navigation is the road in-between the two!  Keep climbing the mountains, surviving the valleys, and navigating all life's moments in-between!

Tuesday's Tune Warren Barfield

Singer/Songwriter Warren Barfield may not be on the radar of most Christian music fans, but once you have heard Warren you know it!  I met Warren at a youth camp some 11 years ago.  Back then he was driving a beat up Ford Mustang with two guitars, a headset mic and a box of self-recorded cd's. 

Since that point Warren has released three studio albums and traveling with my childhood hero Kirk Cameron promoting healthy and godly marriages. And now Warren is headed back to the studio to cut new music.  But this time he is doing it old school, the Warren Way!  Warren has asked his fans and listeners to make an investment into the project.  For there investment they get something in return -- from a pre-release cd to their name in the liner notes.  He is setting out once again to self record an album cutting out all the red tape of the music industry that as he puts it "gets to pick which songs he records."  Here is a link to the kickstarter project.

Until Warren drops new music, here is the break out hit that was featured in the powerful story-telling movie "FireProof", Love is not a fight.  So Warren if you read my blog -- can't wait for some new school, old school WB music!!  Best of luck on the new project!

When The Tank Is Empty

The most difficult place to be is when you feel like you need to give out but have nothing really to give.  Writers call it writer's block.  Athletes call it a slump.  In the church we call it a "desert".  Suddenly the white space of the document becomes your enemy.  All the sudden the lines of the field or court become intimidating.  And everyday spiritual disciplines such as reading your bible, prayer, even church attendance can feel like daunting tasks.  No matter what the title or category of life it comes from, it is all the same -- unfulfilling.

I have this horrible habit of driving my truck not just until it dings and flashes the miniature orange-lit gas pump on my dash.  No, I push it to the limit of watching the needle dance with the letter E as if it was the Seasame Street letter of the day.  "Today's stall on this 4 lane divided highway is brought to you by the letter E."  Well thanks Elmo, like I needed to hear it from a Muppet!

Sometimes life feels like that gas needle.  We watch the mojo of our life slowly and gradually lessen, knowing all along we need to fill the tank up with what keeps us going.  Writer must continue to read and write, baseball players continue to swing, and followers of Jesus, continue to follow.  While filling my truck is easy, yet incredibly costly, re-filling our tanks in life is not always so.  When I pump 10 gallons into my truck instantaneously the needle climbs up over the 1/2 marker and comfort is restored.  But re-filling our spiritual tank does not always  yield the instantaneous results of a stop at the Shell Station.  Sometimes we pour in bible reading, pour in worship, pour in prayer - yet we still feel out of gas.

So my best advice -- keep going to the station and topping off the tank.  In plain language keep doing the things that keep you fresh both emotionally and spiritually.  The writer James in the bible said it so profoundly simple: "draw near to God and God will draw near to you."  If we are honest with ourselves a spiritual empty tank is simply the feeling that God is distant.  Oddly enough, God promised never to leave us.

When the tank is low frequent the station more often.  My mom tells me that my truck will get better mileage if I keep it filled up.  Maybe life is that way too.  Maybe we are better served when we never get to the point of "E".

Your Creativity is Needed

My wife said to me the other day "you are the creative in this family, you need to do it."  While right now I don't remember exactly what the conversation was pertaining to, I do know that in one way she is right.  My wife is logical, numerical, structured and organized.  Me, I am more the free spirited, think with my mouth (or in this case my fingers) and a creative being.  But here is the challenge for all us, we were created in the image of a creative God.  Case in point - a redwood tree, a duck-billed playtapus, a venus fly trap and a baboon with a red rear end.  That is creativity! 

Creativity has been organized, structured and neatly boxed up into selective categories like writing, art, speaking and designing.  But we have limited the reach of being creative.  We all have the ability to be creative, because we were created by the Creator. 

You may read the words of this blog and think, "hey he ain't that good." Okay, but here is my point, this blog is an outlet of the creativity that God has put in me.  And the rebuttal would be to ask you this "where are you being creative?"  Where is the place that you can release what God has put inside you?  Maybe you creatively unpack logical thoughts.  Maybe you are creative in how you organize.  Maybe you are creative in something completely unrelated to your job or the rest of your life, but your creativity in needed.  You have to find that release of what God has put inside you.  Whether you start a blog or just journal.  Paint mural or draw on napkins.  Re-design a home or just re-organize you closet.  The creative insight that lies dormant needs to stoked and brought to life. 

Your creativity is needed because God has uniquely wired you as you and there are things no else has been designed (uhm, created) to do! Go be creative!  Scratch that itch, your creativity is needed.

Tuesday Tune on Wednesday

Summer is filled with blockbuster movies, lazy days and music.  Over the years, a song or songs have marked the season of late night swims and afternoon breakfast.  In the summer of 1993 a song marked was dubbed the anthem of that summer.  Although the airwaves were filled with newly made popular hip-hop and dance music and we were between boy bands of NKOTB and Backstreet, it was an 80's classic that was crowned the Summer of '93 jam.

Canadian born Bryan Adams made us all cry with love ballads like "Do It For You" from Robin Hood and "Please Forgive Me" (yet another "our song" but for a whole different reason). The summer of '93 found three best friends cruising late night down Sheridan Road and dating three friends and the only fitting song was "Summer of '69".  Of course '93 was shouted loudly of '69.

So here is my flashback summer moment of 1979 Toyota Supra and three friends on a 1993 summer night listening to 1984 rock anthem!  I would love to hear your summer song memories!

Sacrifice

By now in the day grills have been snuffed out, pools are closing for the evening and kids are scratching at mosquito bites.  While we have unofficially kicked off the summer season, today is a day we are encouraged to remember those that have lived and died in order that we can freely grill dogs and spit watermelon seeds.  We honor those that have paid the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom.

Grandfathers that freely joined Uncle Sam's Army to head to Germany or Japan.  Uncles that against their will went to a no win situation in Vietnam.  Dad's that served in the deserts and dry lands.  Friends who fly over foreign lands with pictures of their children mounted in the cockpit of a $150 million aircraft.  Today is about you!

I don't like to make my bed or press a crease in my pants.  I like to run, but not at 5 AM.  I  like where I live and don't feel like being "stationed" some where else.  So to all of you that make your bed so tight a quarter bounces off it .  To the ones that where fatigues or dress blues.  To SEALs and Berets.  To Cadets and Midshipmen (and Midshipwomen), simply Thank You!  Thank you for the courage you show us everyday.  Thank you for steady hands and ever marching feet.  Thank you for giving when there is nothing left in you to give.

To those that will never have the opportunity to read these words because you sacrificed at the highest cost for our country and for the prized idea and belief of freedom - may God bless the families you have have been left behind.

From a guy grateful, who could never do what you fine men and women do,
God Bless

Life, the Teacher

The greatest and maybe my least favorite teacher showed up tonight, my kids.  I have found it funny how life allows us moments to teach our children lessons we need to re-learn ourselves. Our spring has been given to the great American Pastime, while neither of the boys are All-Stars yet they are having fun playing.  I guess that in of itself is a win.

Andrew my oldest is a little more determined to become better.  If he could he might live at the batting cages taking swing after swing.  On the other hand we have Isaac.  Isaac loves playing, but playing is all he loves.  Tonight while trying to coach'em up and get that swing fined tune, Ike, as we call him, sort of just quit on me, went through the motions, checked out.  While the "coach" in me wanted to "light a fire under him" and "push'em to the limit" and every other classy coaching cliche I could come up with.  The man in me reflected on me.  I embarrassingly admit there have been days in life that I have just "showed up" or "phoned it in" or "went through the motions" with some responsibility.

While Isaac's swing is not life or death, my responsibilities at least are life. They are my life. Much like Isaac's cuts in the cage, on some days I have lacked effort, lacked energy and drive. I have given less than my best to responsibility I had.

And what would a life lessons be without God smacking you right between the eyes?  As I reflected, the verse (and probably not by coincidence) came to mind that reads "do everything as unto the Lord."  Oftentimes without even realizing it, we just show up in life.  God's expectations is that we would put forth a God-sized effort into everything we do.  Whether that things is a game of baseball or a job, schoolwork or "kingdom work", God asked for our best efforts. God asks us to treat every responsibility as we are doing it for him.  Lesson re-learned!

Thoughts

Fleeting as they seem and random as they are I have them, as do you.  I think about my kids, my wife, my work, my money and lack there of.  I think about baseball and teaching my boys the perfect swing.  I think about music as it plays over the top of my random thinkings.  I think about God and life and the collision of those two.  Sometimes I over think, like when I was a kid it would take me 20 minutes to chose between a pack of Fleer or Topps baseball cards.  I would then not pick either and buy Donruss.

The bible teaches us to take every thought captive.  All my growing up this was taught or at least learned as a negative.  It was as if our mind was the pampers of the body catching all the feces and urine that flowed freely in and out.  Maybe it was the word captive that brought this type of thinking.  To be a captive means that you have been taken or possibly surrendered to what is capturing you.  So the teaching went something like this "take captive all those bad thoughts and then just hit the delete button, get rid of them."  While I agree hold heartedly that our mind needs to purged of the cranial poverty that destroys it, what then shall we fill it with?

That leads me to this thought, while we are supposed to go all commando on our thoughts like a Navy Seal on Osama there is another side to that coin.  God all tells us to set our minds on things above.  This is the positive to the negative, the AC to the DC, the heads to the tails.  While I feel like I am at least trying  to be in constant purge mode of the filth, I am at the same time trying to capture the "things above" thoughts -- thoughts on love, faith, hope.  Thoughts of creativity and community.  Thoughts that bring life, thoughts that bring joy, thoughts that fill not just your mind, but your heart.

Our thoughts can set us up for successes or set us up for failures. It is our thoughts that often lead us to our destinations.  It is our thinking that often sets the course that we sail.   So where are your thoughts taking you?

Tuesday Tune May 24th

Owl City is the one man band of Adam Young.  Owl City hit it big with the widely covered YouTube sensation Fireflies. The man, the keys and the Mac are at in once again with a new album that drops June 14th titled "All Things Bright and Beautiful".

If you have never heard Owl City you are in for a treat.  This does not fit your traditional of any music category.  Adam Young blends poetic lyrics over elctronic mixes with a dance beat feel.  Beyond the quirky lyrics is deeper meaning that exposes the faith of Owl City.  Tuesday Tune is the first release off the new album entitled "Galaxies".

Inspiration

What is funny is that you never know where it will be found - inspiration that is.  It is mysterious, it is even sneaky at times.  It comes at the end of rain storms.  It comes in the middle of sunny days.  It shows up in the midst of tears or hidden in sounds of child's laugh.  A single second of life can bring about a fury of ideas and creativity.  A blink of an eye can open up an entire B&O Railroad of thoughts.  And then at times...nothing, nada, zip, zilch.

Often I sit and look at this blank white square that serves as place words seem to spill out of my brain into the wide open spaces of the world wide web and eventually onto your eyes, lacking inspiration.  And there are other moments my fingers cannot franticly keep up with the pace of the language longing to hit the pages of my journal or my blog.

I have spent most of my adult life in the capacity of a minster in some form or another.  From that context comes the my understanding of the greek word theopneustos used in the bible for inspiration.  Which is literally translated "God-breathed".  It is used in this context to describe the writing of the Holy Scriptures through the penmanship of man.  By no means do I claim this blog to sit anywhere near the level of God's good book.  But I do believe that at times, the words that find their way out are inspired in the "God-breathed" sense.

There are moments when days pass and I come back to a post and re-read it.  And not that the blog is perfect, grammar is still not a strong suit of mine. But as I re-read I think to myself, "wow, there is no way you are that smart."  I start to see somewhere tucked tightly in the randomness of my thougths is something inspirational, something even "God-breathed."  I realize that the source of my moments of profound insight or quirky banter or even poorly shaped thesis statements is something God gave.

So next time you find yourself inspired in whatever it is you do, just possibly you'll think that Heaven in all it's splendor has breathed that inspiration into your life!

Knowledge is confidence

The old expression is "knowledge is power" but in the reflections of my children "knowledge is confidence".  Yesterday I took out for a run.  I am an on again, off again runner.  Lately, more off than on.  Andrew decided to ride his bike alongside me while I ran, a new experience for us.

Maybe some of you are better runners than I, so carrying on a conversation with a 10 year old full of fourth grade knowledge was not my plan.  But as I was informed, I should not have worn a black shirt because black causes you to be hotter.  Biking is a great form of exercise because your legs move up and down.  A groundhog and a beaver are kind of the same animal.  And amazingly 20 minutes of other random thoughts (yes, I realize the paradox of that statement) and other questions of intrigue.

Not only was I exhausted from my near 3 mile run, but was extra winded from trying to engage in all things that Andrew wanted to share or wanted answers to.  But this made me realize this that knowledge creates confidence in us.  Some people fake this.  You and I know those people who have an answer or a correction or comment or some other insight into every conversation they are a part of.  But this was not that kind of confidence which is insecurity masked with knowledge.  No, Andrew expressed an honest willingness to share what he knew.

All of us have knowledge or a level of expertise within us.  What if we took this 10 year old approach to life? What if we just freely, willingly, sincerely wanted to share what was inside us?  The six words that changed my life were spoken by Jesus "freely you have received, freely give".  Maybe that is why I blog.  Not because I am an expert, but simply the confidence to share what I know in hopes that makes someone else's life a little better.  Go do it!  Have the confidence to share some thought, knowledge, wisdom, insight, talent, gift or ability that has been put inside you.  Go ahead give it away!

What Would You Say

I consider myself a bit of a wordsmith.  Much like a blacksmith could take a raw piece of metal to form and fashion something of great beauty or of great use, I love to take language shape and mold descriptions and stories.  I like to take the obvious and make it astoot and remarkable.

But in life there are moments that steal the vocabulary even from the wordsmith in all of us.  So this left me with the question of what do you say in the moments that leave you speechless?  If you have never experienced one of these moments let me describe it for you.  In the briefest of instants it is as if someone has cut the red wire on the bomb in your brain that connects intelligble thoughts to explosive device known as your tongue, so that all the seems to come out is a collection of stammering um's and uh's. 

It is the moment you see your first born son and your dad quietly puts his arm around you and the only emotion that can be expressed is the single tear that rolls down your cheek.  It is the moment your wife steps out in that dress and after 12 years of marriage you see her more beautiful in that light than any time before. 

It is also the moments you unexpected pull out your best suit in order to bury a friend far too early and far too young.  It is the moment you hold a grandparents hand at their bed side one last time. 

Speechless moments are no respector of person or time or place.  The come in moments of sadness, moments of laughter and sometimes just moments.  What I have come to understand after much years of being a talker, is that there are some moments when nothing needs to be said at all.  There are moments where silence says enough.  Other moments when the noise of an embrace is the most comforting sounds.  And times when the ums and uhs lead us to laughter and that laughter leads to tears.  Maybe after the clicks of the keyboard have silenced I will realize there really is nothing left to say.

Tuesday Tune

Sara Bareilles hit the charts as a singer song-writer with the melodic piano melodies of the non-love song "Love Song".  Legend has it that her record label was pushing her to add another ballad to her debut album "Little Voice".  Out of that prompting came the hit anthem about not writing a love song.  Sara blends pop/rock with soulful melodies and heart hitting lyrics.

Recently I watched Sara live (unfortunately not in person, but on TV) with her show at the Filmore.  Tuesday's Tune comes off her sophomore effort entitled "Kaleidescope Heart".  So turn down the lights and maybe grab you sweetie and dance the night away with the acoustic version of Many the Miles.

Wells

On my great-grandmother's property was an old school water well, with the bucket on a rope and everything.  I remember two things about that well.  One we would threaten to push one another down it and two it smelled and tasted like blend of dirty sweat sock with hint of rotten eggs. Umm, deliteful!

But that well had a purpose.  It was many years after they lived on that property that running water was put into the house.  So that  well supplied water for drinking (if you could stomach it), for washing clothes, dishes and faces of 6 children. 

To me what is so interesting about a well is that it requires rain.  Rain is what feeds the supply of water that sits at the bottom of that long hole in the earth.  Those dark, ominous clouds hold the source of supply for that well.

Just this last weekend my three year old daughter sat on a blanket on a bleachers under an umbrella watching her two older brothers play baseball.  Eventually both games would be postponed due to, you guessed it, rain.  Rain was the spoiler of our great day at the ball park.  So often we curse the rain.  The rain wreaks havoc on our plans of fun in the sun. 

Rain is often the describing word we use for when life is not going the way we want.  "When it rains, it pours" to be precise is the words that often leave our mouths.  But when it rains it supplies, it fills the well.  So I have decided to dig a well in my life.  Knowing that three things in life are for certain: death, taxes and eventually it will rain.  I plan on taking life's rainy challenges, all it's falling precipitation and turning it into something useful. 

According to the country song, "rain is a good thing."  While Luke Bryan and I may agree our reasons vary greatly.  Rain in our life is our opportunity to grow, to learn, to become something  better and greater.  Jesus said this "the rain falls on the righteous and the unrighteous."  My plan is to dig a well and make something useful out of life's rain.

Follow Up To "Things I Wish I Knew Yesterday"

I am finding more and more of these type moments.  My wife, Meredith, just wanted to go shopping for Mother's Day.  No fancy lunch, no flowers, nada, nothing.  She just wanted some grown up time to replenish the wardrobe.  So she ventured out to her favorite clothing store Maurices.

Now my wife can shop.  She doesn't leave the store with it without it being a deal.  She is evolving into an extreme couponer.  So much to her disgust today in the mail, wouldn't you know it, a 20% off total purchase coupon!

Things I wish I knew yesterday (or at least last Sunday)!  Guess we will never stop learning the lessons that our yesterday's teach us.

My Best In Babylon

I think that everyone is familiar with the story of the Daniel in the lion's den.  If not, here is the non-flannelgraph short version.  Daniel is thrown in with some big felines because he broke the law praying to God when a decree had been issued to pray to no one other than the king.  God shuts the mouths of the lions, Dan is A-okay!  Yeah, God!

Now back on track.  I was reading this story again when I was captured by something new I have not really ever taken notice of.  Now Daniel is an Israelite that had been taken hostage to Babylon.  Not by choice is Daniel where his, but more by the circumstances of life, especially life ala 5th Century B.C.  Now here is what is so interesting is the first few verses of the story:

² The king also chose Daniel and two others as administrators to supervise the high officers and protect the king’s interests. ³ Daniel soon proved himself more capable than all the other administrators and high officers. Because of Daniel’s great ability, the king made plans to place him over the entire empire.

Daniel is working in what has to be less than his dream job, don't get me wrong it is a good gig. Eating off the king's table was high dining. But working in Babylon is not what he had dreamed of as boy back in Jerusalem.  Here is what impresses me about Daniel, his character. 

He could have releagated himself to mourn or pout or just be mad about his life circumstances.  But Daniel continued to be Daniel.  Daniel did his job, as a matter fact did his job so well the king was about to put him over the entire empire! 

So the economy is bad, so you are working an unglamorous job somewhere in the Babylon of your life.  This "recession" has left you laid off and you have gone from God's promised Jerusalem to the captivity of a new career.  But are you giving your best while you are there?  Don't miss out on what Daniel did.  He gave the king, his boss, his best even in the position he did not choose to be in.  And guess what, God blessed Daniel even in Babylon.  Give your best and God can bless your Babylon.   

Things I Wish I Knew Yesterday

In the classic 1990's movie about the 1980's, The Wedding Singer, Robbie (played by Adam Sandler) offers one of the most quotable lines in the film.  In the aftermath of being stood up at his own wedding, he is told by his fiance that she is not in love with this Robbie, but she still burns for the rock 'n roll Robbie.  And then it happens, the quote, as Adam Sandler shouts out "things I could have known yesterday" at his estranged bride to be.

I think we all have had these moments, moments when we wish we knew yesterday what we know today.  So here are the things I would go back and tell myself:

- Your freshman year homecoming date is going to ask you to order for her.  Find out ahead of time what her favorite food is.
 - In college you will have on field pre-game press passes to the Chicago Cubs, don't ride with Chris, he does not know where he is going.
 - Spend less time worrying about fitting in, more time enjoying the moment.
 - You will not play major league baseball, just sayin'.
 - While incredibly unforgettable and forgettable at the same time, using college loan money to fund spring break is not a good idea. 
 - People come and go, but true friends will add the most value to your life.
 - Home is less about where you hang your coat and more about where you hang your heart.
 - Don't spill you coke on your prom date, really bad idea!
 - When you are standing in line on the first day of college, don't be ashamed to hug mama good-bye.  While immensely proud, her heart is breaking.

While if I gave it another hour or two, I could probably come up with twenty more.  Retrospect always allows for clearer vision. So what are things you might go back and tell yourself?  What lesson do you wish you knew then?  Maybe I would change them, maybe not.  Maybe those moments have shaped the who I am now.  But at the least, would definetly have not spilled the Coke (sorry Katie). 

Tuesday's Tune May 10th

In college, the commander of cool musically was a guy I worked with named Christian Mann (yes it was his real name and I do recognize the irony).  Christian always seemed to have music before anyone else was hearing it, not sure how it happened since we lived in Southeast Tennessee nestled between the mountains and at night the faint echo of banjos could be heard.  Never the less, Christian was my introduction to bands like LifeHouse, Vertical Horizon, BareNakedLadies and this week's featured band Hillsong United. 

Pre the illegalization of Napster and when you put cd's in the cd rom drive to listen to music I was introduced to a youth worship band from Austrailia with hits like "Jesus is my best friend" and "I live for you." Joel Houston and the gang have once again launched out with a new album titled "Aftermath".  I am amazed at the constant evolution of Hillsong United musically yet the ability to stay true to their roots of worship.  If you get a chance to see Hillsong United live, do it this summer as they tour the US.

So here is the title track from the 12th Hillsong United album "Aftermath".

Louis Jacobs

On this brisk summer morning while dropping my oldest son Andrew off at his baseball game, I had one of my random thoughts.  Thoughts for me are like unexpected visitors who drop in and stay awhile.  Some of them welcome, some of them are the kind you continuously hint that they need to go.  Today's passing visitor lead me down the road of memory lane to being an insecure eight grade, slightly arrogant, student. 

In the midst of all that pubescent ignorance is some lessons that I never saw coming, taught by someone I least expected it from.  His name was Mr. Louis Jacobs or simply Mr. Jacobs.  Mr. Jacobs was the eighth grade English teacher and usually the butt of our jokes.  He was an older gentlemen that had suffered some sort of major medical issue in his life that had left his entire right side nearly unusable.  As he walked, he sort of limped and jumped dragging the nearly dead leg with him.  In all of our eight grade genius we dubbed him "Leaping Louey". 

I was above the jr. high games, so I just called him that in private.  "Louey" always just seemed old and cantankerous, ready to threw you out of class and send you to the principal.  Then I remember the moment it happened.  The moment me and Louey gained more common ground than I had ever realized.  Mr. Jacobs had worked for years part time on the local AM radio station covering high school sports, but his primary responsibility was the station's correspondent for the Chicago White Sox.  Now understand, I am a Cubs fan, I have been, always will be.  I have waited for next year for too long to switch allegiance. 

Then the moment happened when I realized the connection between Mr. Jacobs and I.  The White Sox where tearing down the Old Comisky for New Comisky (now called we paid too much for name on the building "The Cell").  This single event brought ceremony to Louis Jacobs.  Every media correspondent that followed the White Sox was honored with a clear plaque in the center was 2 inch square of brown.  Mr. Jacobs in his perfect grammer as only an English teacher would use explained that that small piece of brown was very dirt Frank Thomas, Black Jack McDowell and Ozzie Guillen played on. It was a living piece of history, it was the dirt of Comisky Park.

Suddenly, me and Mr. Jacobs were not so far apart, we were both baseball men.  I came to find out while I was boy playing the game I loved, that game had been robbed from Mr. Jacobs.  He dreamed of playing, just like it was my dream of playing.  A few months later at my 8th grade graduation I would be honored with a citizenship award, one of the biggest surprise of my life.  Come to find out Mr. Jacobs was the one putting my name in the running.  Maybe it was the baseball passion we shared.  Maybe it was because he could see past my imperfections, when as I as boy  struggled to see past his...maybe, just maybe little things like baseball can bring two different people one step closer together.

A Mother's Day Gift

While Sunday is fast approaching and all the buzz here in Lexington, KY exists around two major events -- 1) the Kentucky Derby (I just watch for the hats) and 2) UK graduation on Sunday.  These two bustling experiences are slightly overshadowing one of the greatest moments we have, the ability to honor those that gave birth to us.  So what to give the woman who wiped your butt and face clean the first two years of your existence?

I have thought long and hard about this.  While flowers are pretty and say a lot, there not quite the right choice.  While mom may enjoy the newest Fabio covered romance novel, probably not your best choice.  So mom here is your gift THANK YOU!!!  There I said it.  Thanks.  The greatest gift I could give is one that comes years too late and in too short of  a quanity.  It is a gift that as children we never thougth to give.  While mom must have loved the macaroni necklace or the Crayola colored self-portrait, the words moms longs to hear is simply THANK YOU!

Thanks for taking the only two things in the house (macaroni and hot dogs) and making a gourmet meal.  Thanks for sitting tirelessly on hard metal bleachers where you frooze on cold spring days and burned your biscuits on hot summer nights while I strived to become the next Ryne Sandberg.  Thanks for the moments I have no idea about - days you fought for me, nights you prayed for me and afternoons that without me realizing you putting wisdom inside of me.  Thanks for trusting me with keys to the car and giving me the keys to life.

So mom sorry there is no bouquet of edible fruit or perfume that will make your skin break out.  My best gift this year is the simplest I could give, but I hope makes the biggest impact.  It is all my gratitude and thanks for being the one thing I could have never lived without a MOM.

The Toughtest Road

This entire blog is prefaced with the fact that I love Dave Ramsey. About three years ago I had a moment.  I am cautious to call it a "God" moment, though I think it is what God wants for our family.  Nonetheless in while driving my 2000 silver Dodge Dakota it was as if a switch went off with this thought: "we have to get out of debt." 

Now we had sort of taken Financial Peace, I say sort of because we had the materials, but never attended the class.  But it was if I finally was rocked by the proverb that says "A borrower is slave to the lender."  All of you know what I mean, your credit card company out of the goodness of their heart takes individual concern for your credit rating and gives you a "courtesy" phone call to remind you that you owe them money.  And it is at that moment you suddenly realize you have lost your freedom.  Lost freedom to spend your money as you want, but are indebted to Citi Card or Chase or Bank of America or whoever has your freedom tied to line of credit. 

So for three years we have been navigating this road of debt reduction.  We have reduced our debt by about 50% (our starting debt was over $90,000).  As Dave says with Gazelle Intensity, which at times has been little more than a turtle's pace as in the midst of becoming free of debt we have made some other transitions.  This road has not been easy.  Case in point, I type this blog on a Dell computer (yuck!) instead of the sleek and super cool Mac that I desire.  On the other side that silver 2000 Dodge Dakota parked in front of my house, all mine, no more payments.  But we are doing our best "to live like no one else, in order to LIVE like no one else!" 

FREEDOM!!!! -- Willam Wallace

Tuesday's Tune May 3rd

It is time for this week's Tuesday Tune.  I think we all agree that the last week was a devasting week for the Southeast.  As many of our friends literally pick up the pieces of their lives I wanted to send them a song that might lifted their spirits.

I have not hidden my affection for the band NEEDTOBREATHE.  While relatively unknown by most, they at the same time might be one of the most widely recognizable bands.  They have had their music featured on tv on NBC's The Biggest Loser and had their hit song "Something Beautiful" feature on an Overstock.com commercial.  By stock in NEEDTOBREATHE now as they might be the hottest band of the summer.  They got the distinct honor of being tapped the opening band for Country/Pop superstar Taylor Swift on her North American leg of the Speak Now Tour. 

Tuesday Tune is none other than "These Hard Times" by NEEDTOBREATHE.

Fatherhood and/vs. Coaching

I have the great honor of being an assistant coach for my son Isaac's baseball team the Mets.  While Ike is still just learning the game of baseball, in his first year in an organized league, I on the other hand am returning to the game I loved as a kid.  So faithful readers, I wanted to share some of the lessons I am learning, while trying to a teacher of America's Pasttime.

The word "Coach" at times have more weight than the word "Dad".  Let me explain: part of our practices consists of hitting baseball in a batting cage.  Lined up along that cage is the dad of whatever kid is hitting.  And like everything else, Dad knows best.  So in typically father-like fashion a dad will shout instructions to his son in the cage such as "don't step out", "swing level" or "keep your head in".  All great pieces of hitting advice, usually met with a glare from the player that without saying a word says more than enough.  Oddly enough, as "coach", I can say those same things and low and behold Coach Jeff is a genius and ball comes flying off the bat.

But "Coach" does not trump "Dad" when dad is the coach.  In this same routine of batting practice, I will try to help my son Isaac only to be met with the same beaming glare that every other dad has recieved.  But here is the kicker, if one of the other coaches says it, low and behold, the swing is fixed. 

What I have learned is that between the chalk lines of third and first base, coaches have the opportunity to get through to players/sons where dads do not have permission to.  But in life it is still the responsibilities of a father to keep their sons and daughters between the foul poles and in play.  I am thankful for those helping Isaac become a better baseball player.  I am thankful to help other dad's sons become better baseball players, but I am most grateful to be the coach of the game called life for all three of my children. 

Go Mets!

Storms

So life has felt a little like a country song lately.  Country music for some reason has the ability to capture and tell a story of an old man picking up the pieces after a tornado or the husband who runs home to his wife after the death of a friend.  Country music sells us these stories in a neatly packaged, melodic three minutes.  While storms slammed the Southeast for the last 5 days, including the monster that hit Alabama, Georgia and Tennessee, I got a message that a friend of mine from high school was found dead of heart attack at the young age of 34.  It got me thinking that we all face storms. 

I have many friends that will be picking up the pieces (literally) of their lives by the devastating weather that tore through their homes and damaged their belongings.  In the same way I have friends that have been hit by the high winds of life that have tore through their hearts and devastated their families.  We all face storms.  Some of them we can predict, some them come out of nowhere.  We all face storms, stroms that leave us rebuilding.  Rebuilding places we have called home, even when we may not be rebuilding a physical structure but an emotional one.  

As a fixer, not repairman, but an individual who always wants to have an answer to your problem.  I quickly realize I don't.  All I know is that we all face storms.  At times we all get hit by devasting winds or devasting news.  At times tornadoes rip through our homes or rip through our hearts.  At times it down pours rain or down pours brokenness.  The one thing I know...we all face storms.

³⁹ When Jesus woke up, he rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Silence! Be still!” Suddenly the wind stopped, and there was a great calm. Mark 4:39

Tuesday's Tune

Hey all!  Every Tuesday I am going to highlight a song in the blog. God gifted me with the ability to not perform music.  (I think it was to keep me humble, cuz I would have done ran off to Nashville to be a star.)  Nonetheless, I love music and want to highlight a song or album weekly.  So welcome to Tueday's Tune.

Check out "Oh the Blood" by Gateway Worship.  Gateway Church is great church in Texas with an awesome worship leader named Kari Jobe, among several others.  Enjoy the tune and look for something new next Tuesday!

Jeff

Easter Thoughts - Day 55

While Easter this year was bursting with traditions - baskets, egg hunts and ham dinner.  If felt a little more like 55 days later.  Let me explain.  The book of Acts gives us this snapshot image of this thing called the "church" organically coming together sharing life, possessions, food and whatever else was needed.  This passage takes place some 40 days post resurrection, another 10 days post ascension and sometime after the Day of Pentecost.  So let's call it day 55 after Easter! 

While our service was Easter-y (if that is even a word).  Our post service activities felt a little more day 55ish. The current status of LifeGate is a bunch of young adults and young families, most of which have distance between themselves and their biological families.  So today, we were family!  We brought our food to share, our lives to entangle with one another.  In essence we were the church!  We were just the church as pictured on Day 55.  It was one of the best holidays I can remember (no offense Mom).  There was something right about it, something genuine, something Day 55 like.

Not saying that every holiday is going to look like this from now on.  But this moment in time was a reminder and a reflection of as much what Easter was purposed for: 1) lost being found and 2) the family of God being a family.  Thanks LifeGate family for being my family this Easter.

God Be Praised [+Digital Booklet]

Me or Something Like It

Like most people who have a passion for writing, I find the words written to function like my confessional booth.  Pen and paper or the html of a blog serve as my place of release to put forth something of an honest expression of my own reality.  In the background is what I have considered a theme song of sorts "The Outsiders" by NEEDTOBREATHE.   And the overwhelming and uncapturable thought is a more a question than a statement:  "am I being me?"

In the intrigue of my youth, I wanted to be the fashion trend setter. You know the one kid that broke all the rules with how they dressed, the wore their hair, the bands they listened to.  Sort of Rebel without a Cause meets Project Runway collides with a VH1 Behind the Music episode.  But competing with that notion was the me that lacked confidence that tried so hard to just fit in.  So instead of thrift store shopping for an old TAB t-shirt to wear with polyester plaid trousers and some Chuck's.  I went to JCPenney to buy normal clothes.  While this blog is quickly becoming about my fashion sense or really more that lack there of, I have a point.  Which is my original question: "am I really me?"

I feel like the past several years have been sort of Shrek like, peeling back the layers of the onion of my life.  While I no longer am in constant mode of trying to please everyone else or shape my life into the image of who they think I am, I am not sure I have reached the stinky core of my onion to purest ME.  So maybe the answer to the question is something like that I am still finding myself.  This much I am sure of: I am fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of an amazing God.  And the more I get to know this God, the more I think I get to know me.  John the Baptist said this of Jesus "I must decrease, so that HE (Jesus) can increase."

So this is my conclusion: whether shirt and tie or an old mechanics shirt with the name Ralph stitched on, HE is making me, me!