Crying Babies

Every so often, like virtually every Sunday, it happens. I'm in the middle of my most important point, a powerful illustration, or a captivating conclusion, and the moment is stolen by a set of six month old lungs. Every pastor has experienced the same thing. Not only does the speaker lose his train of thought, but the congregation hears nothing he says. In those moments when some infant is doing what infants do, I've actually considered saying something like, "And I'm leaving my wife to go to Uzbekistan and marry a girl I met online." My guess is no one would flinch. I could say just about anything, and all they hear is "Waaaaaa!"

Recently a friend forwarded a blog to me by Jon Acuff, the extremely gifted writer of "Stuff Christians Like." To quasi-quote David Allen Coe, after reading this I realized that my friend had written the perfect blog, and so I felt obliged to include it in this post. I hope you enjoy.

A few weeks ago at church, there was a baby crying during the middle of the sermon.

Here is what immediately went through my head.

1. Am I the only one that hears that right now? No one else is looking back in that general area. Maybe this is my super power?

2. Heightened hearing? Is that the best superpower? The hearing of a bat?

3. Oh man, I hope my superpower is not just an ability to hear crying babies in crowded rooms. That would be the lamest superpower ever.

4. Except for the character Scarlett Johannson is playing in The Avengers. I love that scene in the trailer where they’re all back to back in the middle of the street. The Incredible Hulk is looking massive. Captain America is standing there with his crazy strength. Iron Man is all suited up. Thor has his mythological hammer. And then Scarlett cocks a handgun. Seriously? She’s a teammate of Thor, and she’s bringing a pistol to the party? If I’m a supernatural villain, I’m thinking “How adorable, tiny bullets!”

5. Don’t be that guy. Don’t you dare look back to see which baby it is.

6. But it’s so hard not to. I’m not judging. I’m just curious. That kid has some lungs! I feel like he’s probably standing up right now with both arms raised above his head victoriously. I gotta see this.

7. I live in Nashville. Maybe that kid will grow up to be the next Garth Brooks, and if I just sneak a glance back I’ll be able to say, “I saw Garth Brooks sing once when he was a baby. Sure hated sermons on spiritual warfare. I’ll tell you that right now.”

8. You can’t turn back to look at a screaming baby and not look like you hate babies. And people who bring babies into church.

9. Maybe they’re a visitor. And it’s their first kid. And their puppy died this morning as well. You’re such a jerk.

10. Remember how hard it was to get L.E. to go to the nursery when she was a baby? She wailed in the hall like you were dropping her off at baby prison. Have some empathy.

11. As a parent, it’s not easy to hand some stranger your baby and, in return, receive an elastic bracelet with a number on it. You vet babysitters at home like you’re the CIA, and now on Sunday morning you’re supposed to just walk up to a stranger in a brightly colored t-shirt and say, “Here’s my baby. I sure hope you’re not crazy. See you in an hour!” Have some empathy.

12. Be careful about writing about this on SCL. Even the faintest hint of suggesting that someone bring their kid to Sunday School instead of big church is libel to stir up some controversy. Like Rob Bell and Harry Potter.

13. Is there a verse where Jesus says, “Don’t you dare drop your kids off at Sunday School?” In the Sermon on the Mount did he ever say, “This next part is for the kids in the crowd. Could they join me up front for a minute?” At that point, did he dismiss them?

14. If we’re supposed to take our kids to big church and have them experience the same sermon adults experience, how come none of the disciples were little kids? How come we never heard about Timmy, the 4-year old disciple who used to get all grouchy when he hadn’t had a nap in a while and got sick of eating fish and loaves? Timmy wanted some chicken fingers!

Eventually the baby stopped crying. Or they took him out of the room. I’m not certain because I didn’t look back at the kid. Cause I love Jesus. And puppies.

How about you?

What goes through your head when you hear a baby cry?

Why We Need More Bubbas

Yesterday I watched, along with millions of others, as Bubba Watson secured the coveted Green Jacket in a playoff against Louis Oosthuizen. Bubba's second shot on the 10th hole is one that will be a part of Master's lore for years to come. I'm sure he's still wondering how in the world he hooked that ball off the pine needles, 150 yards away, around the trees, and stuck it that close to the pin. Along with Oosthuizen's albatross on hole number 2, the twosome produced a lot of excitement on Sunday.

Already there has been a lot of subtle joking about this year's winner: the first "Bubba" ever to win the Green Jacket. Jack, Arnie, Tiger, Phil...Bubba. Seems like some in Augusta are hoping that this will be the only time they have to engrave the name "Bubba" onto a winner's chalice.

I disagree. I hope he wins eight more Green Jackets. I hope one day they are forced to name the clubhouse after him, as the winningest player of the great Masters tournament.

Disclaimer: Before I go any further, I must confess that we have a son named Bubba. His real name is Ryan, but his sister, who was 16 months old when he was born, could not say, "brother." So, as is the case with most "Bubba's," he received the nickname from an older sister who had not quite learned how to say the letter "R."

There is a popular caricature of Bubba's that is something like this: not that bright, slow talking, listen only to country music, probably will end up working in a garage or at a Bass Pro Shop. Certainly not the kind to win the Masters, become the CEO of a major company, or discover a cure for cancer.

I hope Bubba Watson's win yesterday is the beginning of changing mindsets and the rise of many more Bubba's in successful ventures.

Here's why: I've known several Bubba's in my life, and now I have a nearly 2 year old Bubba I get to observe on a daily basis. I've learned some things about Bubba's.

Bubba's aren't pretentious. Bubba's aren't that interested in impressing other people. They never put on airs. They never pretend to be something they are not. When they succeed, it's for themselves. Or their mamas. Bubba's love their mama's.

Bubba's are loaded with common sense. Some Bubba's may struggle with book sense, but they are blessed with common sense. And let's face it: there are some out there who can make A's in every class but don't know not to pee into the wind. Bubba's always know to pee outside with the wind to their backs. Oh, and Bubba's love to pee outside.

Bubba's love their family. You don't read about drama and scandal involving Bubba's. You won't see Bubba's on the headlines of tabloids. If Bubba's have family problems, they get them worked out. Then they take their wives fishing.

Bubba's love Jesus. They are not perfect. Bubba's can mess up like the rest of the world. But at the end of the day, Bubba's love Jesus. You won't see a Bubba leading an atheist rally in Washington. They tend to be in church on Sunday, unless they happen to be in Augusta winning the Masters.

So, to Bubba Watson, thank you for being a role model for my son. And thank you for blazing a trail for the future success of Bubba's everywhere.

The Baby Shower

This past Saturday there was a baby shower for a friend of our family. Katie took our 2 1/2 year old daughter Elizabeth to this event, her first experience at a baby shower. She was very excited that she got to go with her mom to this "big girl" event... almost as excited as Dad that he did NOT have to go. According to Katie, she thoroughly enjoyed the experience and was "full throttle" the entire time. The two girls arrived back home sometime after lunch, about the time that Elizabeth needed to go down for a nap. I took her to her room, put her in her bed, and talked with her for a while until she got sleepy. There was a part of our conversation that I'll never forget:

ME: "Elizabeth, did you have fun at the baby shower?"

Elizabeth: "Yeah, Daddy, it was fun. Daddy, do you know that there were no babies at the baby shower?"

ME: "Yeah, Elizabeth, sometimes there are no babies at baby showers."

Elizabeth: "Oh, okay. Daddy, do you know that there were no showers there either?"

Try explaining to a 2 1/2 year old why there are no babies and no showers at a baby shower.

September 11 Video

A friend forwarded this video to me. If you've got an extra 15 minutes, it's well worth the watch.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cLj4akmncsA&feature=youtu.be

Jumping Joey's

Took the children recently to Jumping Joey's. It's so hot these days that we have to figure out a way to entertain/wear them out while not giving us all heat strokes. Jumping Joey's has several inflatables: slides, moon bounces, obstacle courses, etc. One of our two children had a whole lot of fun. One did not. I'll let you guess which was which!

A Great Way to Start the Day

Well, it finally happened with our son, Ryan (a.k.a., "Bubba"). Early this morning I heard our 1 year old son crying in his crib. Instead of simply shoving an elbow into his mama (my normal reaction to hearing one of our children cry), I decided to be the good dad and to go check on my little Bubba. Surely he just needed to eat, or to be changed, or maybe he'd lost his pacifier, right?

I walk into his room, turn on the light, and discover that Ryan had somehow managed to remove his diaper from his body.

Before I go any further, there are two things you need to know. Number one: I did not put him to bed last night. Some other adult who lives in our household put him to bed in only his diaper, without pj's. I'm not assigning any blame here, because we are a team and we are in this together and so we support and do not blame each other, right? But baby, what were you thinking?!?

Secondly, this same scenario happened with our daughter when she was about the same age as Ryan. In her case, she had removed her diaper, but was so mortified by the contents within that she just cried without attempting a full internal investigation.

Not my son.

The boy decided that what was in his diaper was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. This substance was so intriguing, in fact, that it needed to be fully explored. Evidently, he discovered that it was the best product he'd ever encountered. Have you ever seen the movie, "My Big Fat Greek Wedding"? Remember how the dad was obsessed with Windex, and believed that it would cure anything. That was my son with his diaper surprise:

"What would it feel like on my head? Oohh, that's nice. Probably good for my hair. This will give it a nice shine. Maybe this stuff is good for my complexion. This baby acne is driving me crazy. Hmmm, this feels good. Little bit of this will help me keep my youthful look. Maybe this stuff will be good for my sheets. I bet it will keep them soft and comfy. Wow, that looks good. This stuff is like a miracle product. Maybe my teddy bear could use some, too. Here, Teddy. This will change your life..."

Fortunately, I was able to intervene in the situation before he decided that it would make good paint for the walls as well.

I know the stock market has been rough lately, but here is a tip: buy stock in a company that sells bleach. We bought enough that their next quarter's earnings are going to be tremendous.

Conspicuous Consumption

The headlines in the news this week all proclaim that the debt crises has been "averted." Unfortunately, the deal struck did not do much to solve the real problem of this country: that we are spending far more (to the tune of $1.5 trillion annually) than we have. Whether you are a Democrat, Republican, Independent, or a Don't-Care, you would not last long if you ran your household in the same fashion that the United States government runs this country. To spend nearly 70% more than your income each month is foolish, and yet... seemingly... the American way.

According to latest statistics, the United States government is not the only one in debt. Americans owe on credit cards alone a whopping $975 billion. The average household has nearly $10,000 in credit card (unsecured, high interest rate) debt. It seems that our government is not the only one who is in love with debt. As Americans, we want what we want NOW and not later.

Sure, a certain amount of debt is almost unavoidable. My wife and I never would have been able to get a home of our own without a bank lending us the money. Most small businesses would never get off the ground without taking on debt. Debt itself is not evil, and yet too much and the wrong kind of debt can destroy lives (and maybe even destroy a nation!)

The root cause of this debt crises is what many people call "conspicuous consumption." This term was first introduced by a man named Thorstein Veblen in his work The Theory of the Leisure Class, written in 1899. He describes conspicuous consumption as a symptom observed in a society where over-consumption becomes the social norm. He used this term to denote the consumption of goods for the purpose of displaying social status and wealth.

Veblan certainly was not viewing this from a Biblical perspective. He was a devout atheist who also believed that churches were simply a waste of building space and described pastors as a group of people paid to do nothing useful at all (please hold all snide comments). But, his observation about the dangers of over-consumption were on target. We have become so obsessed with instant gratification that we will sacrifice anything, including our future, in order to obtain what we want now.

Ecclesiastes 5:10 reads: "Whoever loves money never has money enough; whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with his income." We could add to that, "Whoever loves stuff never has enough." While there is nothing wrong with buying, purchasing, and having, we must be careful that our material wants do not rule over us.

I'll close with a great line from the movie, "Forrest Gump." Played by Tom Hanks, Forrest Gump at one point receives a pile of money. Not much in his lifestyle changes. In fact, he gives most of it away. His reason? “Mama always said a man only needs so much money, the rest is just for showing off.”

What Should We Worship In Church?

This weekend is Memorial Day weekend - the traditional beginning of summer (pools open, schools are out, I can finally start wearing white.) I'm a big fan of Memorial Day, Veterans Day, July 4th... all the weekends that celebrate our freedom and remembers those who fought so bravely for us to have this freedom. Both my grandfathers fought in WWII. I'm thankful for their service and the millions of other Americans who fought against Fascism. We have men in our church who are currently serving in the United States military and are fighting the war on terror, either at home or overseas. I recently sat next to a young man on a plane who'd just graduated from Naval boot camp. My first words to him were "thank you for serving our great country." I'm thankful both for our freedoms and all those who fight to protect those freedoms.

Whenever I go to a Memorial Day parade, or a July 4th fireworks show, a service honoring our Vets, or hear Lee Greenwood sing his most famous song, that patriotic pride swells within me and I'm truly proud to be an American.

And yet, when I'm in a Sunday morning church service, and the Star Spangled Banner is played, or someone sings God Bless America, I do not feel that same sense of pride. There is something within me that is uneasy. I still have the same love for my country. I still have the same gratitude for those who've served in the military. But something just doesn't feel right when we wave the red, white, and blue in church. Why am I fine with this celebration at a parade on Main Street, but not on Sunday morning in a church service?

I read an article recently that helped put some theological framework around why I feel this way. To see this article by Kevin DeYoung, go to the following link: http://thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/kevindeyoung/2011/05/26/thinking-theologically-about-memorial-day/

Bottom line of his article is this: patriotism is a good thing, but a worship service of God is not the best place to exalt our country. Our focus in worship should be, well, God, and not ourselves or our country.

Having said all of that, I hope that you have a wonderful Memorial Day weekend, and God Bless America!

Just a dad

Tomorrow is the big day - Kevin Ryan Mills, Jr (a.k.a, "Bubba" by his older sister Elizabeth, but "Ryan" to the rest of us), is getting dedicated in church. There are 20 babies being dedicated, and I've told my church and my family that on this day, I'm just a dad. On a normal Sunday morning, I'm up at 5:00 and out the door before anyone else in the house (including the dog) is even stirring. Most Sundays I do not get to see my family until 12:30 or so as we gather back at the house for lunch. But on this day, I'm just a dad. I'm not preaching. I'm coming to church with my family. I'm participating in the dedication, and then I'm riding home in the same car with my wife and children. Here is the way I envision our morning:

I will wake up at 7 and have breakfast with my wife. We'll drink coffee and talk about what a great day we are looking forward to having together. I'll then feed the dog, who will come over and put her head against my leg, saying "good morning" to me. I will then head up the stairs to wake up our daughter, Elizabeth, as my wife gets Ryan. We will feed them both breakfast as they sit quietly and eat. My wife and I will then take shifts getting ourselves ready, and getting the children bathed and ready. We will leave the house and be at the church at least 15 minutes before we are supposed to be in place. The four of us will walk onto the stage, along with the other families dedicating their children, and our son Ryan will behave superbly and our daughter Elizabeth will smile a perfect smile. We will then head home for a wonderful Mother's Day lunch together.

Have you ever watched any of the old "Vacation" movies with Chevy Chase? He always dreams of the "perfect" vacation with his family, only to be disappointed as nothing goes his way. I'm probably pulling a Clark Griswold here. The morning will probably go something like this:

Ryan wakes up at 5AM, screaming his head off. Since it's Mother's Day, I tell my wife to stay in bed, and that I will feed him. I stumble into his room, trying to find the light switch, and to keep from waking up his sister across the hall. I get Ryan out of bed only to discover that he has, on this Mother's Day, the "mother" of all dirty diapers. In the middle of the changing process, he decides he's ready to go, and his squirming causes the "problem" to escape the containment area. I then run out of baby wipes, forcing me to grab baby, clothes, diaper, and all affected areas and race to the bathtub. I attempt to detox the situation, causing Ryan to scream bloody murder. His screaming wakes his sister at 5:15AM, forcing mama out of bed for a man-to-man defense to try and handle the situation. Both children are taken downstairs and there is an attempted feeding. The dog starts barking, incessantly, out the window at a squirrel or cat or butterfly or some other creature that has invaded her territory, causing Ryan to cry all the more. We struggle through feeding the children, then take turns watching them in the playroom while we each attempt to eat some breakfast ourselves. At 7AM, we try and put both of them back down for a nap, hoping they will sleep some before going to church. Doesn't work. They both just cry. We again take turns guarding, I mean watching, the children while the other gets showered and dressed. Finally, just before we need to leave the house to be on time to church, they both fall asleep. We put them in the car, thankful for a little peace and quiet as we drive to church. We wake them as we arrive 10 minutes late to church. We get out of the car, frazzled, but put on our best church smile as a parking lot greeter comes over to help us. Ryan spits up on my shirt. I look at my wife and say, "Oh well." We finally make it to our assigned place to walk into the service for baby dedication, only to have our daughter screaming that she wants to go on the playground. We bribe her with a promise of ice cream, or a sucker, or a bar of gold from Fort Knox - anything to hush her up before going into big church. We finally walk in with the other families and...

both children are perfect during the entire dedication.

Please walk up to us afterwards and say, "Aren't your children just the most well behaved?" We smile and give our nod of approval to this myth.

The truth probably lies somewhere in between these two scenarios. Either way, I'm looking forward to being, "Just a Dad," and promising, along with the other dads, that I will raise my child in a Godly household, regardless of which scene becomes my reality.

Top Ten Ways You Can Know You Are Baptist

The church I pastor is an amazing family of people who are trying their best to follow Christ and believe that we can do it better together than alone. We are not perfect (not even close, really), and do not pretend to be so. But we sincerely believe that the biggest need of the human heart can be found in a relationship with God through Jesus Christ. We unabashedly invite others to be a part of our faith family, not because we want to be a bigger church, but because we truly believe that we can help them find answers to the big questions of life.

Because of this desire to connect others with God, we made the decision to break down any barriers which might prevent someone from taking that first step of visiting our church. We discovered that one of those barriers can be denominational structure. There is a generation today that has, with good reason, become quite cynical toward religious organizations. They've seen the news and they've read about the scandals, and so many of them have completely written off organized religion. With that in mind, we intentionally made the decision to not emphasize our particular denomination. This was not a "right" or "wrong" decision; just one that we strongly believed was right for our family of faith.

Having said that, our church is Baptist, both in our teaching and in our practice. We have many in our church who come from a variety of denominations - Catholic, Presbyterian, Methodist - and are quite proud of their heritage, but now have found this to be a place where they are able to grow closer to God. In the same way, many in our church grew up Baptist and are proud of their heritage. While I personally was not raised in a Baptist church, it was in a Baptist church that my faith in and understanding of God really began to grow.

All that is just background for you to know that I'm Baptist and I have the great privilege of serving as the pastor of a Baptist church. So the following is not meant to offend anyone, just something that I came up with one day while I was running on a treadmill and my mind began to wander. If this list offends you in any way, then please accept in advance my apologies.

Top Ten Ways You Know You Are A Baptist

10. Your church has 400 members, but the FBI and Post Office together cannot find 100 of them.

9. If hearing the joke, "How many Baptists does it take to change a light bulb?" makes you respond, "Change?!? My grandmother gave that light bulb to this church 50 years ago! You'd better not change anything!"

8. Your version of the Bible says that instead of locust and honey, John the Baptist “ate fried chicken and drank sweet tea.”

7. At your last business meeting, there were 25 people and 30 opinions.

6. Gossip is not a sin as long as it is preceded with the phrase, "This is a prayer request" or "bless his heart." (i.e., "Pray for Sam, bless his heart, I saw him at... I mean, I heard that he was at a bar last night.")

5. Your church has a smoking porch for the deacons.

4. You have reserved seats in your worship service.

3. You have ever wondered when your church will finally pay off those loans to Annie Armstrong and Lottie Moon.

2. You have ever sung all 74 verses of "Just As I Am."

1. You believe that Baptists will have their own section in Heaven!

He Isn't Ours

This past week we took our 2 1/2 month old son, Ryan, to get a CT scan and an ultrasound. He was born with something called a congenital aplasia, and after going to several doctors and even driving to Atlanta to meet with a doctor, we took the little fellow to get these scans. They doctors told us that it was probably nothing to worry over, but that these tests would confirm. Before I go any further, we did get that confirmation that he is perfectly normally (well, except for the genes he inherited from me), and that the scans were all clear, and that the worst he'll have to live with is a dime-sized bald spot on the side of his head.

We went with the technicians as they placed our son in the CT scanner. They had to place pads around his head to keep him from moving and then slid him back into the machine. My wife and I talked about that scene later as we drove home from the hospital - just how emotional it was seeing him being put into that scanner. My first thought was, "I can't imagine having to see your child go through test after test like this." I suddenly had a deep compassion for parents whose children face serious medical issues and have to go through this kind of experience over and over.

As we talked about that experience, we reminded ourselves about how both of our children are not ours. It is so hard to really believe that truth, but we have to allow that truth to find its way into our hearts or we will drive ourselves crazy trying to protect our children from every little thing and completely control their environments. We talked about how our children are a gift from God, and that they ultimately belong to Him and are under His protection. We reminded ourselves of the story of Hannah and Samuel, and how desperately Hannah wanted a son, and once he was born she both spiritually and literally gave him over to God to serve in the temple. We talked about her words, which I'm sure were said with many tears: "I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the Lord." (I Sam 1:26-27) We've found that this is the hardest thing to do, and yet yesterday we were reminded, as we saw our son in that machine, that we cannot control everything that happens to him and protect him from everything. He belongs to God; we are simply Ryan's foster parents, caring for him the best we can.

How Do I Get To Oz?

So many times when we are trying to figure out God's will for our lives, we feel like Dorothy asking the scarecrow how to get to Oz. We get no further in clarifying the decision that ought to be made than Dorothy got in her answer from the scarecrow. We pray, we ask advice from friends, we get the big yellow legal pad and make our list of pros and cons, and still we are left scratching our heads. Is there way to really know God's will?

This Sunday (September 12th) I'm beginning a series on Discovering God's Will. In my preparation for this series, I have personally discovered two truths that make a huge difference in how I view God's will for my life: 1) God loves me more than I can possibly understand, and wants me to know His will for my life even more than I want to know it, and 2) God's purpose in my life is to get me to do the things that I don't necessarily want to do in order to become the person I want to be. In other words, I may think that His will is not the best for me, but God, in his infinite wisdom, understands the entire context of my situation, knows the outcome of every decision, and ultimately wants to lead me to the place I really want and need to be.

Those two truths are incredibly freeing. God wants me to know His will more than I want to know it makes my struggle to discover His will less burdensome. And, the fact that whatever His will is for my life is the place that ultimately I want and need to go means that I can trust His leading even when it doesn't make sense. Life becomes easier with a guide like that. Sure beats the heck out asking the scarecrow!

It Was A Scream!

Kevin Ryan Mills, Jr. (Ryan) came at 4:02PM on Tuesday, August 3rd, weighing in at a hefty 7 pounds, 9.4 ounces. According to the doctors and nurses, the delivery was as smooth as they come. Mama is recovering quickly; little Ryan seems to be happy, and big sister Elizabeth is, for the moment, tolerating this new "attention-stealer" who has entered our house. Now begins the crying, the screaming - and that's just from Dad! Even through it all... the mountain of dirty diapers, the feedings, the sleepless nights... it's worth every moment!

Dear Ryan

Dear Ryan,

It's 3:00 in the morning as I sit at the computer to write these words to you. Earlier this evening your mom decided she wanted us to go on a walk, "to get things moving along." Well, it apparently worked. After just 3 hours of sleep, she woke me to tell me that your birthday would be August 3rd, 2010. For a while, we debated: How long do we wait before going to the hospital? How long do we wait before calling and waking your grandparents to come watch your sister, Elizabeth? Should we call the hospital first and ask their advice? Will they call the doctor for us?

Strangely, the whole thing felt like deja vu all over again (a famous Yogi Bera quote...I look forward to sharing his famous wit with you one day.) Just 16 1/2 months before, we went through this same routine with your sister. You'd think that we'd know exactly what to do this time, but it's funny how much you forget in 16 months.

Your mom is getting herself ready and packing her bag (she'll pack enough to stay for a month). Your dog, Bella, is asleep on the kitchen floor. I'm drinking coffee, trying to clear the fog, sitting in the kitchen writing on the laptop. Even in the haze of the early hours of the morning, I'm exploding with excitement about meeting you for the first time.

I know I'll make mistakes. I know you won't always like me. There will come a time when you think you know everything and I'm a complete idiot. But know this: I'm going to love you with everything that is in me. I'm going to do my best to give you tons of my time. And I'm going to tell you about our God who loves you a million times more than I am able to love you. Unbelievable, isn't it? I cannot wait to throw a ball with you, to ride you on my shoulders, to read you a story, to put you to bed at night. I cannot wait to meet you, Ryan!

But for now, we wait. Just waiting on you to do your thing. So come on, buddy. I'm looking forward to meeting you.

Love,

Dad

"You Mean We've Had This The Whole Time?"

My daughter, Elizabeth, is 16 months old. Recently, we "turned" her car seat around. Fortunately, my wife keeps up with the rules, but there is some deal about them facing backwards in the car seat until they reach a year old or 50 pounds or some measure like that. I'm not 100% sure what the deal is, but she told me it was time, so Elizabeth now faces forward in her car seat.

Today, since now she is facing forward, we put in a DVD while she and her mom went to run errands (I was home for lunch and got to see them off). As you can tell from the attached photo, she instantly became locked in to her Veggie Tales video. One time she glanced over at me, and I was able to read her mind. She looked at me as if to say, "You mean we've had this the whole time and you guys haven't been letting me watch DVD's?!?"

I wonder how many times we end up the same way spiritually. I wonder how many times God has incredible things in store for us, but we just miss it, or aren't ready, or haven't "grown up" enough spiritually for God to be able to show us more. I wonder how many times we are facing backwards spiritually, while God is waiting for us to mature so He can show us all the great things we can see facing forward. How many times are we missing our own Veggie Tales DVD?

In fact, though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the elementary truths of God's word all over again. You need milk, not solid food! Anyone who lives on milk, being still an infant, is not acquainted with the teaching about righteousness. Hebrews 5:12-13

Laughter

Very early in Genesis, there is this great story of God coming to Abraham and Sarah and telling them that He will give them a son. The story is great because God was doing something that seemed impossible - allowing this woman who was a few decades past her childbearing years to become pregnant. When God came to Abraham and gave him the news, his wife Sarah overheard the conversation and laughed; not with a joyous, excited kind of laugh, but a cynical, pessimistic kind of laugh. The kind of laughter that said, "Yeah, right. Like I'm really going to be able to have a child."

A few chapters later in Genesis, she gets pregnant (Ch 21:1 - "...and the Lord did for Sarah what He had promised.") She gives birth to a son, names him Isaac (which means, he laughs) and then said, "God has brought me laughter (not the cynical, pessimistic kind of laughter, but a joyous, excited kind of laughter), and everyone who hears about this will laugh with me." (Gen 21:6)

On two separate occasions, Sarah laughs, but her first laugh is dramatically different than her second laugh. Her first laugh is full of cynicism. Her second laugh is full of joy at God doing the impossible in her life.

In my own life, there is far too much of that kind of cynical laughter and far too little of the joyous laughter at God doing the impossible. It's far too easy to become cynical and jaded in our society, and I've fallen victim too many times to the curse of cynicism toward everything, including God. I want to laugh, but not like Sarah's first laugh. Lord, help me to not cast a weary, cynical eye toward You doing the impossible in my own life.

Waiting

I'm an extremely impatient person. Standing in long lines; waiting for a table at a restaurant; waiting for someone who is late to an appointment... these things all drive me insane. I'm not good at just sitting and waiting.

But when I read the Bible, I find that I'm commanded to wait on God... a lot. Psalm 37:7 - "Be still and wait before the Lord." Psalm 27:14 - "Be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord." Psalm 33:20 - "We wait in hope for the Lord." Proverbs 20:22 - "Wait for the Lord, and he will deliver you." And the list goes on. I mean, come on, God, don't you know that I've got things to do, and I need you to solve my problems NOW?!? What is the deal with this whole waiting thing, anyway?

This coming Sunday we will be talking about why God makes us wait - and since you are a faithful blog reader, I'll give you a preview of the sermon. The major reason God makes us wait is that what God does in us while we wait is just as important as that we are waiting for. In other words, the waiting is not just killing time, but part of God's plan. The journey is just as important as the destination.

So, I guess I'm praying that God would give me the ability to be patient and wait on Him. Is it okay to pray that He would hurry up and give me patience?

Sex, Sleep, and Snoring

The first command given to mankind from God was one that many people are willing and able to follow: "God blessed them and said to them, 'Be fruitful and increase in number.'" (Genesis 1:28) So, God's plan is clear on the fact that men and women are to 1) Reproduce. Secondly, we are told that Christian married couples have a certain obligation to engage in sexual relations with one another for a purpose beyond just reproduction: "The husband should fulfill his marital duty to his wife, and likewise the wife to her husband... so that Satan will not tempt you because of your lack of self-control." (I Cor. 7:3,5) So, the Bible is clear that mankind is to reproduce (note: this does not mean that a child-less couple is out of God's will any more than a single person is out of God's will. If reproduction was an individual requirement, as some Christians try to proclaim, then Jesus would have been out of God's will) and that Christian couples are to engage in sexual relations with one another in order to help their partners avoid the temptation to seek sexual fulfillment outside of marriage. So, that part of marriage is clear from the Bible.

What is not clear, though, is whether or not Christian couples have some sort of obligation to sleep in the same bed together. In other words, is it okay for a Christian couple to sleep in separate beds or even separate bedrooms? Obviously Ozzie and Harriet were able to get away with sleeping in separate beds, but Mike and Carol Brady decided that they needed to be in the same bed. But what if one partner snores really loudly? Is it then okay to sleep in separate bedrooms? Or what if one partner likes the ceiling fan on Cessna speed while the other partner needs the air movement in the room to be a little less than 75MPH? What if, only hypothetically now, one partner is pregnant, likes the temperature in the room to be only slightly above freezing, cannot get comfortable so she's constantly rolling over, and wakes up in the middle of the night to watch television, while the other partner is a light sleeper? If that purely hypothetical situation were to take place, does the Bible prohibit that pretend couple (who really do love each other a whole lot, but one of them just isn't any good without his necessary sack time...) to hypothetically sleep in separate, but hypothetical bedrooms? Is there a moral obligation on that couple to always sleep in the same bedroom? And, is it justifying behavior to say that one of the hypothetical partners may perhaps be a lot nicer after getting the proper amount of sleep, thus being a better husband and making for a better marriage? Is there any kind of Christian rule on this matter? And, is it okay for just a period of time (like during the last trimester of a pregnancy)?

I'm just asking, you know, just in case the hypothetical ever becomes reality...

Butler Jesus

A good friend of mine recently forwarded me a sermon by John Piper, pastor of Bethlehem Baptist Church in Minneapolis, Minnesota. In this sermon, Piper asserts that for so many people in America, their Christian life never goes beyond turning to Jesus for their needs and wants. Piper states:

"Instead they (nominal Christians) have absorbed the notion that becoming Christian means turning to Jesus get what you always wanted before you were born again. So, if you wanted wealth, you stop depending on yourself for it, and by prayer and faith and obedience you depend on Jesus for wealth. If you wanted to be healthy, you turn from mere human cures to Jesus as the source of your health. If wanted to escape the pain of hell, you turn to Jesus for the escape. If you wanted to have a happy marriage, you come to Jesus for help. If you wanted peace of conscience and freedom from guilt feelings, you turn to Jesus for these things.

In other words, to become a Christian, in this way of seeing things, is to have all the same desires you had as an unregenerate person—only you get them from a new source, Jesus. And he feels so loving when you do. But there’s no change at the bottom of your heart and your cravings. No change in what makes you happy. There’s no change in the decisive foundation of your joy. You just shop at a new store. The dinner is still the same; you just have a new butler. The bags in the hotel room are still the same; you just have a new bellhop."

Piper's point is this: for those who have become followers of Christ, the source of our joy changes. Our foundation of happiness is not found in what Butler Jesus can deliver to us, but rather in Jesus himself. Our joy is not found in what we get from Jesus, but in the fact that we are able, through his death on a cross, to have a relationship with the God the Father. Is my life spent making much of God, or hoping that He makes much of me?

This sermon certainly causes me to do a heart check. Is my passion to see God's name made great, or to see my own needs and wants met? Do I view Jesus just as a my Divine Butler, or are my prayers that he would be glorified through my life? From where does the core of my joy and happiness come? What am I hold onto as the greatest treasure? At the end of the day, no matter how much God blesses me, self will never completely satisfy me. My supreme joy has to come in my relationship with God.

Who Am I?

So this week I'm reading through the events of the last week of the life of Jesus. (I'm using Luke's version, so I started at Luke 19 and reading through to the end of his account). This morning I read through the accounts of Jesus being questioned (more like verbally attacked) by the religious leaders. I was amazed all over again at the answers of Jesus - he took on the scholarly elite of His day and put them in their place every time they attempted to trap him (check out his amazing debate skills in Luke 20).

But the question which plagued me as I read through these passages was, "Who am I in this story?" In other words, which character would I have been in that day? Where would I have fit into these accounts of Jesus being challenged by the religious mafia? I came up with several possibilities:

A Sadducee - I dismissed this one pretty quickly. These guys were the social upper crust of their day. This red-neck Georgia boy would never have been asked to be part of their club.

A Pharisee - These guys were the religious leaders of the day, so yeah, I guess that there is a chance that I could have fit into that group. Most of them weren't fans of Jesus, though... he was upsetting their system. So I wonder what my reaction would have been if my "status quo" was being challenged?

Part of the crowd - These were the rubber-neckers of the day. They stood on the edges, listened to the debates, laughed when Jesus put the religious leaders in their place, but also chanted "crucify Him" when Jesus stood beside Pilate. They weren't committed either way; they just wanted safety, security, and their next meal. Yeah... I bet I could have been a face in that crowd.

A Disciple - These were the guys who abandoned everything they knew to follow Christ. Sure, they flinched when Jesus was arrested and crucified, but ultimately these guys came through because nothing mattered more. Man, I sure would love to say that I would have been one of those guys.

I've found that it is really easy to Monday morning quarterback all these different characters, point out flaws and mistakes and to make statements like, "I would have..." But during this week leading up to Easter Sunday, I've been plagued by this nagging question - who am I in this story? And... I guess the more important question - what in my life now proves that I would not have been one of the bad guys? It's a hard question to ask; maybe harder question to answer. And yet... what could be a more important question?