Baby Luke

"Baby Luke," that's what your sister calls you.

Most days she's excited to meet you.

She looks at your room, your toys and your diapers with puzzled curiousity.

She wonders if you will ever get here, or if you are just pretend.

Your mom knows you are not pretend. 

You keep her up at night and cause her to walk funny in the day.

You cause her tummy to shake when you have the hiccups.  

You create a love inside of her I could never imagine.

I don't know you like your mom does.

But I know you are almost here.

I know that you will transform our family forever.

I know you are my son, my only son, and that you are loved.

Even Bosque knows something is happening.

He's seen our office (his hiding place) disappear.

He's seen the new decorations and furniture.

He's seen us open box after box of things for you.

We can't wait for you to be seen.  We'll all be here.

Two-Year-Olds, Boo-Boos, and God's Redemption

 The following is an abbreviated version of this month's BaptistWay Bible study column written for The Baptist Standard. You can access the original version here.

My 2-year-old daughter is obsessed with “boo-boos.” When she gets a bump or a scrape, she is sure to tell me and ask for a band-aid. She wears it proudly and shows everyone any time she gets a chance. In her mind, she has a boo-boo for as long as her afflicted area does not look normal. It does not matter if the pain has long since subsided; she still points out boo-boos to me and others while they are visible. She understands boo-boos are not supposed to be there and is waiting until there is nothing left to see before ceasing to call attention to them.

The older we get, the more used to and accepting of boo-boos we become. It’s common to ignore pain in our muscles, backs and legs. We get to the point where we no longer notice scars obtained in our younger days or minor sores we hardly feel. The longer we live, the more we realize this is part of life. No one gets to live boo-boo-free. Children are young enough not to have been tainted by the injuries and aches that come with age and experience. Their fresh perspective reminds us we were not created to showcase imperfection, and one day God will redeem all he has allowed.

 The proof in the pudding (Jeremiah 32:1-15)

It’s one thing to say that, but it’s quite another to live it out. Where’s the proof? Jeremiah was faced with providing proof of his prophecy when King Zedekiah captured him (v. 3). Zedekiah couldn’t understand his confidence during a time when things looked hopeless for Jeremiah and his people. Then Jeremiah let him in on an even stranger piece of information: As commanded by God, he had purchased a field at Anathoth that belonged to his uncle. The only reason he did this was because he knew this word was from the Lord (v. 9).
This would have seemed ridiculous to Zedekiah. As the Babylonian army was besieging Jerusalem (v. 2), Jeremiah was buying a field that soon would fall into the hands of an enemy ruler and cease to belong to anyone affiliated with Jeremiah. This would be ridiculous if not for the promise that went with the command to do this: “… houses, fields and vineyards will again be bought in this land” (v 15).

Doing something ridiculous

Jeremiah proved he believed God’s promise by doing something ridiculous. By all accounts, that is what we do when we try to love the unlovable, feed the hungry, visit the prisoner and share Jesus with those who do not know him. To think anything we could do or say alone could fix someone’s problems is ridiculous. It’s like putting a band-aid on a festering, infected wound.

As we live, we become more aware of the various kinds of wounds people struggle with. As we do, we can hold firm to the vision cast by 2-year-old girls intent on exposing and healing boo-boos. God will redeem all he allows, but the proof of that lies in our enduring actions of today.

Jeremiah bought a field to prove God’s faithfulness to the world. What will you do?

A Questionable Beginning

The following post originally appeared on the blog of the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship.  You can access it here.  

The fellows program did not start off well for me.  After running into several cohort members in the airport I had managed to become excited for the first meeting.  The talks we had on Georgia’s “Marta” train shuttling us from the airport to a central meeting spot were energizing.  The handful of five or six of us quickly shared about our current places of service, time in seminary that was still fresh in our minds, and mutual acquaintances and passions we all had.  I realized that this was a small taste of the camaraderie and kinship that was in store for us in the next two years.  As the train pulled to a stop at the station we all exited in a hurry to meet Terry Hamrick, who was chauffeuring us from the station to our cohort meeting.  We were not difficult to spot, nor was the lone white van waiting for us that could have easily had “Baptist meeting” written all over it.
 

Terry was just about to close his door and start the engine when I felt around for the backpack that travels everywhere with me and never leaves my side.  “Did anyone see me leave the train with a grey backpack?” I asked in a faked calm voice.  “I remember seeing it on the train, but now that you mention it, I don’t recall you leaving with it,” someone in the back piped up.  And so, I began the fellows meeting inside of the CBF office trying to track down my backpack that contained a Kindle e-reader.  It was sitting there waiting for anyone to pick it up and access my Amazon account (which stored my credit card information) as well as my Facebook and Twitter accounts.  My only hope was that someone would pick it up and turn it into lost-and-found.  After reporting the item missing via Marta’s website, I was told not to contact them again.  They would contact me if the item was recovered, and all I could do was wait.

I was not sure how much I was going to be able to absorb from our fellows gathering with this on my mind, nor was I excited about being the guy in the group that lost his backpack.  What I quickly learned in our introductory session was that all of us felt that we were missing something.  Prior to this first meeting we were all given the Leadership Practices Inventory to complete.  Part of our time together included going over our results with a trained facilitator.  One of the exercises we engaged in to help us understand these included dividing ourselves up according to the way we scored on a particular item.  After grouping ourselves among others with similar results, each group was given the same case study to briefly consider and then to share with everyone else the way their group would address it.  The activity proved exaggerated and humorous, likely because most teams of people in real life do not consist of members that all think in a similar manner.

However, by looking at case studies in this way I was able to see how all of our different leadership styles would look if allowed to go to extremes.  In spite of being congregational leaders in various settings, all of us had blatant weaknesses that were put on display in this activity.  Instead of being a time where everyone got down on themselves and wished they were different, this was a moment where we allowed ourselves to laugh, poke fun at each other, and simply be who we were unapologetically.  I’m not sure that this was the intended lesson behind this experience, but it was the one that stuck with me.

This set the tone for my whole fellows experience.  It was a safe place to simply be.  As a young minister it can be easy to fall prey to the notion that I must be super human.  Every time I met with this unique and diverse group I was not only reminded that I could not do this, but that I did not need to do this.  The settings that God has and is calling each one of us into are places where we are to be ourselves.  It’s a little easier to do that when you are removed from everyday life and surrounded by friends and mentors.  But it is from these joyous moments that I pull strength to live into my calling on my best and worst day on the job.

PS – I never recovered my backpack; but I would lose it all over again to be able to spend more time with the members of my cohort group that have become valued friends and colleagues over the past two years.

What is this You Have Done? - Genesis 3:13

The following article originally appeared in the "Great Questions" column in this month's publication of CommonCall magazine.

 

Kids are full of surprises.  As a young parent, I’m learning to never underestimate what my two-year-old daughter can do when left to her own devices.  “Emily, what did you do?!” is a common exclamation heard in our house.  This phrase is often said in exasperation, more than from a desire for information.  Another similar, but slightly different phrase I sometimes find myself shouting is: “Emily, look what you did!”  This is the more direct route.  Instead of resigning to her bad behavior in frustration, I drop the implications of it in her lap full force with an accusing imperative.  In that moment, I want her to feel guilt over what she did.  I want her to feel bad because she has done something bad.

God asks a similar question to his first daughter following the bite she took from the sinful fruit of The Tree of Knowledge: “What is this you have done (Gen 3:13, NIV)?” 

His very own creation chose to deliberately disobey the only rule he gave them.  His point in asking about Eve’s action is obviously not a request for information, an emotional outburst, or an attempt to shame her.  Rather, it is part of a series of questions that God asks both her and her husband in Genesis 3 that seeks to lead them to an understanding of the full implications of their actions.

“Where are you?”  “Who told you that you were naked?”  “Have you eaten from the tree I commanded you not to eat from?”  “What is this you have done?”  The author of Genesis presents this series of questions from God in the same manner you might hear questions in a court session unfold.  The obvious conclusion is that both Adam and Eve are guilty and have devastating consequences to pay that will affect the rest of humanity and history.

But let us not miss one small detail in the midst of this bad news: God did not have to ask these questions!  His willingness to enter into our experience, step-by-step, questioning, prodding, and responding - contrasts sharply with our quick tempers and finite patience.

God will not recklessly drop consequences in your lap out of resignation or frustration.  Even when your actions are contrary to his wishes, God’s guidance and leadership can be found.  How might he be leading you in the midst of questionable actions or consequences today?

"Daddy, put down your phone."

Those were the words of my two-year-old as we sat on the floor together.  I had told her we would color after she picked up her blocks.  After continual hounding, a couple trips to "time out," and turning the project into a game where she threw the large plastic toys into a bucket as fast as she could, the job was complete.

"I color now?"  She remembers everything.  It was actually close to lunch time, but I figured I better make good on my promise.  I pulled out the enormous sketch pad and her triangle-gripped crayons and placed them on an old sheet to protect the floor.  "Do my hand," she said as she slapped it down on the pad to be traced.  I did.  "Now this one," as she held up another color to use.  "And this one," she continued on and on until we'd traced her hand in four different colors.

After that, she was content to scribble on the pad for a while.  "I'm a good dad," I told myself as I pulled out my phone while she occupied herself.  When she looked up to see what I was doing a minute or two later, I thought I noticed a slight frown.  "I color Elmo.?!" she asked in a way that sounded as if she was demanding, requesting and excitedly stating at the same time.  Of course, right when I settle my eyes on a blog post worth reading.  I get up, retrieve her Elmo coloring book and set it down in front of her.

"Daddy color Elmo" she said this time in a matter-of-fact assumption as she cocked her head slightly to the right.  I colored a picture of him sitting on a recliner for a couple minutes and eventually passed the crayon off to her.  Finally, she was occupied again.  I quietly pulled my phone back out and after only a couple minutes she looked back at me and said the phrase above in an honest and exasperated tone.

You've read these kinds of posts before.  The points: quality is not equal to quantity; time given is more important than time spent; intention is communicated in spite of action (even to two-year-olds!).

Thanks for this though reminder, sweet girl.

60th Anniversary

The following post was published in EBC's newsletter upon our 60th anniversary celebration.

60 years of ministry.  That’s what we celebrate this month.  I feel unqualified to say much about the majority of these years.  On October 6^th, you will get a chance to hear some testimonies from former pastors that have served Eastwood.  I have no doubt that their experiences will do much to put our church’s history and legacy into a proper perspective.

Until then, my thoughts will have to suffice!  60 years is a long time.  In less than 60 years, businesses open and close.  Homes can be built, bought, and paid for two or three times over.  Many lifetime marriages do not even last this long.  When you consider that churches have a much less sure-fire way of generating support and revenue than a business or a mortgage company, and that its members are not bound to be faithful in the same way that spouses are to each other, it is astounding that any church can last this long.

Resiliency.  That is what 60 years stands for to me.  Not perfection.  Not professionalism.  Not even unparalleled blessing.  But sheer resiliency that I believe proves Christ’s promise that the gates of hell will not overcome his Church (Matthew 16:18). 

An older, retired pastor that I know has told me that he’s thankful he was a pastor in a much simpler time.  Well, I’m thankful that I am a pastor for such a time as this.  Maybe times are a little less uncertain than the days when our nation seemed to be “more Christian,” but the testimonies of churches like Eastwood that have lasted through the changing of many times is a testimony of hope and assurance to me. 

As we approach this time of celebration, allow the testimonies, memories, and renewed acquaintances to challenge your perspective regarding our church.  You’ve heard the old saying: “you don’t have to go to church to be a Christian.”  But a singer/songwriter named Derek Webb poignantly states that “if you love [Jesus] you will love the Church.”  Not what the church has been, or what you would like it to be.  But what it is – scars and all.

Our church is resilient.  It has been “sharing, caring, and inspiring for Jesus since 1953.”  And this gives me hope as we face the future together.

Loving Two

I love that you are two today.

I love that you can't quite hold up two fingers yet.

I love hearing you scream "Daddy!" in the evenings, ask for a cereal bar in the mornings, and to watch a "show" at various times throughout the day.

I love that you love life.  How you look at books with wonder, sing with joy, and ask to "hold you" when you are tired.

I love that you are high achieving, and hearing you say "Emily do it!" at almost every turn.

I love watching you try to dress yourself, fix your hair, and mimic your mom.

I love your imagination and the way you express it in taking care of your baby, cooking in your kitchen, and in allowing anyone or anything to become a horsey to ride.

I love tickling your back and protecting you after you've heard a loud noise.  

I love hearing you ask for "one kiss" 20 times before going to sleep, and for one more trip to the potty.

I love that you love others, and refer to everyone as "my _______."

But most of all, I love that you love me.  And I love that I love you more.  

I can't fathom what I will love when you are three!