A Different Light

Goofy Gossip

2012-01-04T13:50:00.003-06:00

I always like to start the new year off with a little laughter. It does a body good, even a church body -- perhaps, especially, a church body.

In that vein, I saw a list earlier today of things we could do without in 2012. We could probably live without all of these activities in church just as well as our personal lives. Here are just a few:

1. Jumping on the bandwagon
2. Running around in circles
3. Pushing our luck
4. Spinning our wheels
5. Adding fuel to the fire
6. Beating our heads against the wall
7. Beating our own drum
8. Throwing our weight around
9. Grasping at straws
10. Jumping to conclusions

Now those do make me laugh, but they are also activities that I've observed all too often, especially the last few -- i.e. grasping at straws and jumping to conclusions. I've been in the ministry long enough to know that there are few more productive gossip mills than a church.

I've heard a few crazy rumors in my time, and it would certainly be nice to not have to fend them off in 2012. But its a new year and I'm sure the rumor mill will be quite creative . . . although 2011 set the bar pretty high. At times, I began to think I was working on the set of a Soap Opera, although the rumors were probably more creative than what we typically see on daytime television.

Perhaps, just perhaps, I can remember to laugh at the rumor mill this year. Sometimes, laughter really is the best medicine.

A Foundational Event

2012-01-02T13:43:00.003-06:00

[Editor's Note: This blog, particularly, is focused on my home church. I apologize in advance to my readers from out of town.]

This Sunday, January 8th, is a foundational Sunday for my FBC Russellville family. In fact, if you can handle a little pressure, its the cornerstone for all we're going to try to accomplish in 2012.

At least for all I'm going to try to accomplish in terms of the pulpit ministry in 2012.

Believe it or not, I've always been a bit of a "big picture" guy. Some folks like to focus on an event, a race, a moment . . . I tend to be a plodder, building slowly and steadily. And I tend to see the pulpit and the incredible privilege of preaching the same way.

So, you may ask, how does a plodder suddenly position himself to declare a Sunday as pivotal? Because, believe it or not, this Sunday will lay the groundwork for a year's worth of sermons.

On Sunday morning, we'll start our journey through the book of Hebrews. We'll lay some ground rules, we'll consider the primary themes, and we'll establish our pivotal spiritual goal for the entire series and all of 2012: to embrace the supremacy of Christ in every area of our lives.

We'll actually just be kicking off a five-week sermon series called, "Good, Better, and Best," but that series will frame all that comes after. So, believe it or not, this Sunday is the pivotal, foundational message for all that is to follow.

Is that a low-key enough way of suggesting you be there?

And, on Sunday night, we'll do the same for our journey through the Sermon on the Mount. In many ways, the Sermon on the Mount summarizes what Christ's brand of spirituality is all about . . . and that means our lives, our churches, our ministries should reflect the Sermon day in and day out.

So our journey through Matthew 5-7 will also be pivotal for all of 2012 and beyond.

And, as I've taken a step back and looked at the two messages we're going to walk through Sunday, I've only grown more and more excited. Laying a foundation is critical work. Pivotal work.

I'm a plodder, a grinder, a day-in, day-out kind of guy . . . but I also understand you don't reach the end of your goal well without a good beginning. And it all begins this Sunday . . . why miss it?

And, just to further whet your appetite, we'll have an additional special surprise thrown in for good measure, another foundational moment in FBC's history.

All the wheels are turning in the same direction, grinding us toward the future God has already laid out for us . . . why not join us Sunday? A new day, a new year, a new journey.

See you there!

Good News is Worth Repeating

2011-12-29T13:27:00.002-06:00

Let's start with a curious question: if you were talking to an angel, would you value their insider knowledge on God and heaven?

Typically, I would assume we would all answer, "Yes, yes I would." I, for one, would love to have the chance to speak to an angel who has been in heaven, seen the risen Christ, watched the construction of heaven . . . you name it. I might even try to rattle off a few of the questions I keep wanting answered about eternity and God.

Oddly enough, John the Revelator had this experience as he penned the book of Revelation. An angel guided him through the process of assimilating his vision of the end of all things, occasionally answering questions and bringing clarity to the sometimes odd or even brutal things John was seeing.

But one interaction between John and the angel really grabbed my attention recently. Listen to this exchange from Revelation 19:9, "And the angel said to me [John], 'Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.' And he said to me, 'These are the true words of God.'"

Did you see that last sentence? The angel, after telling John what to write, pulls him aside and emphasizes, "These are the true words of God."

Of course, we know all of God's words are true. That's not up for debate, not with the angel, not with John, not with any believer in Christ. So what's the angel doing, repeating the obvious?

Honestly, I think he's repeating something for emphasis. If you'll permit me for adding a little big of my personal opinion/perspective, I think it's as if the angel can't resist the lack of John's reaction to the truth.

The angel just told John, "Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb." And the angel knows what he's saying; he knows this marriage supper is already been planned in heaven. Perhaps he's already passed through the massive banquet hall. Perhaps he's already seen the menu. Maybe he's aware of the music that will be played, or how Christ will display Himself, or what role the Father and the Holy Spirit may take.

Honestly, I could speculate like that forever and just get more and more excited about the supper. But, one way or the other, I think the angel was trying to emphasize the incredible privilege of attending the supper to John -- and maybe he wasn't sure John was getting it. So he pulls him aside (I like to imagine in a made-for-TV voiceover) and adds, "These are the true words of God."

But, perhaps just like John, we don't get it, either, friends. The Marriage Supper of the Lamb is a real event. It's coming soon (in God's timing). And all the world has received an invitation -- but we'll only have our seat guaranteed if we are covered by the blood of the Lamb.

I, for one, don't want to miss this opportunity. It's one of the few things I haven't done that I can't imagine missing. I know these are the true words of God . . . and I'm looking forward to experiencing the event for myself.

Aren't you?

A Labor of Love

2011-12-24T09:30:00.003-06:00

For me, getting in the Christmas spirit always involves a relatively unknown album called "Behold the Lamb of God: The True Tall Tale of the Coming of Christ" by Andrew Peterson.

Andrew wrote the album a number of years ago, and its reception by the "marketing" forces of the Christmas music industry reveals a lot of what's wrong with the industry. His label at the time refused to allow him to record it because they felt it was too non-traditional to receive commercial success.

Perhaps they were right . . . but the music sure is glorifying to God. My favorite version of this classic album is a live performance in 2004 at Nashville's historic Ryman Auditorium. Joining Peterson on stage was an amazing group of musicians including Phil Keaggy, Phil Madeira, Pierce Pettis, Jill Phillips, Derek Webb, Sandra McCracken, Laura Story, Andrew Osenga, Ben Shive . . . and many more.

Here are the lyrics to just one selection from the album, "Labor of Love." It's a powerful retelling of that first Christmas night. And, if you have the time, follow the link I've included to the live performance, sung by Jill Phillips. I promise you won't regret it.

Watch it live here.

"Labor Of Love"
It was not a silent night
There was blood on the ground
You could hear a woman cry
In the alleyways that night
On the streets of David's town

And the stable was not clean
And the cobblestones were cold
And little Mary full of grace
With the tears upon her face
Had no mother's hand to hold

It was a labor of pain
It was a cold sky above
But for the girl on the ground in the dark
With every beat of her beautiful heart
It was a labor of love

Noble Joseph at her side
Callused hands and weary eyes
There were no midwives to be found
In the streets of David's town
In the middle of the night

So he held her and he prayed
Shafts of moonlight on his face
But the baby in her womb
He was the maker of the moon
He was the Author of the faith
That could make the mountains move

It was a labor of pain
It was a cold sky above
But for the girl on the ground in the dark
With every beat of her beautiful heart
It was a labor of love
For little Mary full of grace
With the tears upon her face
It was a labor of love."

New and Old at Christmas

2011-12-23T08:54:00.002-06:00

I'll admit that I can grow a bit cheesy at Christmas time. I enjoy breaking out the Christmas music, perhaps even a bit early for most. I like to hear the old songs, and think back to Christmas's of the past. And, of course, I like to reflect on the true meaning of the holiday, celebrating God's great gift to man.

In that vein, I thought I'd share two beautiful Christmas songs, crafted several centuries apart, that beautifully present the truth of Christmas. You may find them cheesy . . . or moving. At this time of the year, something about my "glass half-empty" mindset gets shattered and my sense of nostalgia and blessing blossoms -- perhaps you will be overtaken with the same affection.

Once in Royal David's City (written in 1848 by C.F. Alexander):

Once in royal Davids city,
Stood a lowly cattle shed,
Where a mother laid her Baby,
In a manger for His bed:
Mary was that mother mild,
Jesus Christ, her little Child.

He came down to earth from heaven,
Who is God and Lord of all,
And His shelter was a stable,
And His cradle was a stall:
With the poor, and mean, and lowly,
Lived on earth our Saviour holy.

For He is our childhood's pattern;
Day by day, like us, He grew;
He was little, weak, and helpless,
Tears and smiles, like us He knew;
And He cares when we are sad,
And he shares when we are glad.

And our eyes at last shall see Him,
Through His own redeeming love;
For that Child so dear and gentle,
Is our Lord in heaven above:
And He leads His children on,
To the place where He is gone.

"Leaving Heaven" (written in 2011 by Matthew West):

Well, it’s been real nice living way up here
In paradise, over the atmosphere
But I can’t stay long, gotta make my way
I’m leaving Heaven today

You see the world is dark and it needs a light
I’m gonna hang a star in the eastern sky
So everybody’s gonna know where I touch down
I’m leaving Heaven right now

I’m gonna walk around that broken Earth
Trading in these streets of gold
So if you ever wonder how much you’re worth
You should know
That you’re the reason why I’m leaving Heaven

Ain’t gonna be no kingdom, ain’t gonna be no crown
Just a little old manger, in a little old town
But it’ll do just fine for this humble King
I’m leaving Heaven let all the angels sing

I’m gonna walk around that broken Earth
Trading in these streets of gold
So if you ever wonder how much you’re worth
You should know
You’re the reason why I’m leaving Heaven

And when my time comes to an end
I’ll lay down my life like a truest friend
And when I get back home, I’m gonna make some room
So, don’t you worry, ‘cause I’m coming back for you

And you will say goodbye to that broken Earth
You’re gonna walk on streets of gold
And if you ever wonder what my love is worth
Well you should know
That I’m the reason you’ll be seeing Heaven
Oh, you’re the reason why I’m leaving Heaven
I’m leaving Heaven

Truth Wins

2011-12-08T15:01:00.002-06:00

Christmas is a beautiful time of the year . . . except when it isn't.

Surely you know what I mean. Christmas is a wonderful time of the year, especially when all is wonderful . . . but what about when it isn't?

As a pastor, I'm still adjusting to all of the suffering I see around me. Suddenly, I'm privy to details about marriages, and families, and individual's health that I did not know before -- and I'm reminded that we live in a broken, dysfunctional world.

For every blissfully happy person you pass on the street, there's a handful of miserable, stressed, frightened folks right behind them . . . and often for good reason.

Life is hard. Period. And where does that leave us?

I'm convinced it leaves us with the one doctrine the church seems most prone to forget: heaven.

Christmas, if nothing else, should be a wonderful tradition celebrating the first advent of Christ and reminding us that a second advent is soon to occur -- He is returning.

But we've made Christmas into a celebration of materialism and gift giving, carefully exorcising the real meaning of Christmas from our minds. Which, of course, is a shame.

A few months ago, I was introduced to a charming little book by William E. Blackstone that was written in the late 1800s, with the sole purpose of reminding its readers that heaven is certain and Christ is going to return.

Its a good message to remember at Christmas . . . and when we're hurting. Blackstone succinctly puts it like this:

"The greatest fact in all of history is that Jesus Christ, the Lord of Glory, has been in this world. The most important fact today is that He is now in heaven making intercession for us. And the greatest prophesied event of the future is that He is coming again."

Day in and day out, I'm reminded that Christmas is not the most beautiful time of the year because of the lights, the gifts, the celebrations -- it can be a brutal time of the year because many, many folks are hurting during the holidays.

But Christmas is a beautiful time of the year -- even when we are hurting. Because Christ came and lived and died for us . . . and He is coming again.

Immanuel, my friends, now and forever.

The Reason for the World

2011-11-27T13:24:00.003-06:00

This morning, I had the incredible privilege of preaching on the painful story of Naboth, from I Kings 21. We used his story to kick off a Christmas series on selfishness, with our goal being to get our minds right as we head into the Christmas season.

In case you're curious, I'm not trying to encourage selfishness . . . I'm aiming toward selflessness, which is the real point of Christmas, as modeled by Christ's sacrificial death for us.

But that often gets lost in the Christmas holiday, as do certain things in translation, even when you preach. There was so, so much more I would have loved to share about Naboth and the application we can draw from his difficult life and death, but I just ran out of time.

Yet, Matthew West has written a wonderful song that I believe "caps off" the sermon in incredible fashion. It says everything I wish I had been able to say, and much more beautifully, to boot.

So, if you heard the message and want to hear the icing on the cake, please check out this link to a youtube version of West's song -- CLICK HERE. You won't be disappointed.

And if you don't do youtube, here are the lyrics from West's song, "A Reason For the World." I think it puts things in context real well . . .

"There are no words in times like these
When tears don't hide the tragedies
And all you want is a reason for the world
No comfort in the greeting card
Cause God is good
But life's still hard
and your heart just wants a reason for the world

Maybe the reason for the pain
Is so we would pray for strength
And maybe the reason for the strength
Is so that we would not lose hope
And maybe the reason for all hope
Is so that we could face the world
And the reason for the world
Is to make us long for home
For God so loved your broken heart
He sent his son to where you are and he died
To give a reason for the world

So lift your sorrows to the one
Whose plan for you has just begun
And rests here in the hands that hold the world
Maybe the reason for the pain
Is so we would pray for strength
And maybe the reason for the strength
Is so that we would not lose hope
And maybe the reason for all hope
Is so that we could face the world
And the reason for the world
Is to make us long for home

Well I know you’re past the point of broken
Surrounded by your fears
I know you're faint and tired and lonely
from the road that you walked down here
But just keep your eyes on heaven
and know that you are not alone
remember the reason for the world.

No ear has heard
No eye has seen
Not even in your wildest dreams
A beauty that awaits beyond this world
When you look into the eyes of grace
and hear the voice of mercy say
Child, welcome to the reason for the world."

EDITOR'S NOTE: West also has the best new Christmas album of the year, too, if I'm going to sound like his publicist. It's well worth checking out.

A Pleasant Surprise

2011-11-14T19:59:00.006-06:00

One of the beautiful things about Scripture is its endless ability to surprise and even inspire. So many times, when studying a familiar passage, I still wind up discovering something completely new. Perhaps this is partially attributable to my own ignorance . . . but no matter how great my ignorance is (and, yes, it is great, in a not-so-good way), God's Word is even more magnificent.

Here's a simple example from just earlier today. In studying for a series I'll be teaching soon on the Sermon on the Mount, I looked at a very familiar passage:

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied." -- Matthew 5:6

Now, I won't bore you with a detailed description of what I usually think of when I read this passage, but its pretty simple and obvious. The early portion of Christ's sermon is a call for man to see his spiritual depravity and need -- verse 6 clearly reinforces that. Obvious enough, right?

But here's what I've never noticed before: verse 6 is actually a great verse to determine whether or not we are truly in the kingdom. We all love to find litmus tests for our salvation and opportunities to reinforce our security in our eternal salvation . . . but I've never looked at Matthew 5:6 that way.

But, as Martyn Lloyd-Jones has noted, this verse has the ability to separate the pretenders from the authentic believers. If the idea of hungering and thirsting for God's righteousness sounds like the most beautiful goal and pursuit ever to you, then you can be certain you are a part of His kingdom. But, if such a pursuit seems pointless or distracting to you, then you had best examine your spiritual foundations. There's a chance you've never done real business with God because, if you possess His Spirit, you should also possess a passion for His kingdom values and holiness.

So which is it for you and me? Is Matthew 5:6 a gorgeous, inspiring truth or is it an impractical religious idea that just gets in the way of your every day life?

Now maybe you're thinking that all seems rather obvious. Maybe you always see that when you read the Sermon on the Mount . . . but it was news to me. And, practically speaking (if you've been paying attention at all) my own excitement over this discovery gives me great comfort and confidence. Don't make me go back and explain why!

A Recycled Recommendation

2011-11-07T08:13:00.002-06:00

Many of you love to read -- that's why you actually waste the time to read this blog. And, if that's you, I've got a couple of perfect books for you as you get ready for the holidays and Christmas specifically.

Is it too early to think about Christmas? Well, that's debateable, but that's an argument for a different day. I'll confess that Matthew West's new Christmas album, "The Heart of Christmas," has already got me thinking about the holiday -- but a non-commercialized Christmas, of course.

Anyway, back to the book recommendations -- both selections are Christmas books, set during Christmas and revolving around the holiday, to some degree. They are short, pithy, and full of wonderful morals and spiritual insights.

First off, if you haven't had a chance to read Skipping Christmas, by John Grisham, I recommend it whole-heartedly. The movie, Christmas with the Kranks, certainly did not do the book justice. It's a sweet, endearing read, the kind of book that pulls you in, gets you chuckling, and then blesses you with an emotional blend of poignancy and passion at the end.

It's a simple story of an empty-nest married couple who decide to skip Christmas when their only daughter heads to Peru for the year with a charitable organization. Christmas no longer seems to be worth the time, energy and money, and you'll find it easy to relate to their plight. But the cast of characters in their neighborhood, well, that's classic Grisham.

You'll laugh and laugh . . . right up until the great plot twist in the last act. It's a short, riveting book, and you'll enjoy every minute of it.

Secondly, I have to recommend The Christmas List by Richard Evans. Evans writes in a similar style to Grisham -- quick, pithy, and perfunctory on the descriptions. He gets right to the plot and lets the dialogue develop the characters, for the most part. It almost becomes like watching a sitcom, which is great writing for shorter novels, in my humble opinion.

Anyway, Evans takes the It's a Wonderful Life plot and turns it upside down. The book's primary character gets to read his own obituary in the paper due to a crazy mix-up . . . and then he gets to read the online reactions to his death, as well. He's less than enthused by what he reads -- come to find out, he's been a heartless, back-stabbing, money-grubbing cutthroat, and his friends and enemies, alike, are somewhat grateful to hear he's gone.

Except he's not.

And that's when the book really takes off. Slowly, he develops a heart and decides to right a few of his wrongs . . . and none of his efforts really pay off. Nothing takes place predictably, and you'll be strung right along, hoping he can put his life back together again and become a changed man.

It's a great, great read, but I do have to offer one disclaimer to most of my blog readers. Evans is a professed Mormon, but the theology of his book is simple Christianity. You won't find anything confusing in it, and you'll never know about his religious persuasion . . . but I just didn't want you to find out after the fact.

Anyway, if you're like me and you sincerely try to keep Christmas in perspective every year despite all of the shopping commericals and the hustle and bustle, these books are guaranteed to help. They'll even get you ready for Thanksgiving, in a good way.

So happy holidays and happy reading!

Team Works

2011-10-31T07:00:00.002-05:00

One of my passions in ministry is to anchor everything on teamwork . . . just because I'm convinced that the concept of team works. Period.

Years ago, I was humbled when I ran across Proverbs 18:1, "Whoever isolates himself seeks his own desire; he breaks out against all sound wisdom." It's a powerful reminder that God does not bless Lone Rangers . . . God calls us to His team, His body, His church.

In Colossians 1:17-18, we're reminded that Christ is holding His team together: "And He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. And He is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything He might be preeminent.

Again, when I first began to absorb the impact of those words years ago, I began to resolve that I wanted to be a part of Christ's team. I wanted Him to be at the center, to receive all the glory, and to call the shots.

And, now that I have the incredible privilege of being a pastor and shepherd of His bride, I'm determined to anchor everything on these simple principles.

It's His team. He calls the shots. He receives the glory. As many have said, let us make much of Jesus. Always. In everything.

And team works. The individual parts -- when it comes to ministry and success in God's eyes -- are not significant . . . but, as a whole, as a unit, as functional pieces, they combine to form a team with a common bond that it is incredibly powerful.

Every individual part is significant in the eyes of God and worthy of love, respect, and praise, but true worth only comes as we deny ourselves and begin to serve as servant members of His team.

I love the way Oswald Chambers puts it: "Brood on what Jesus Christ came to do (die for us), and then, in the full possession of your mind -- not in the excitement of a revival moment nor in the enthusiasm of a great spiritual ecstasy but in the calm quiet knowledge of what you are doing -- say, 'My life to You, my King, I humbly dedicate."

That's when team works, friends, when we sacrifice ourselves for Him and His glory.

And, of course, that helps us see when team doesn't work -- when we deify ourselves, our desires, our preferences. When we become selfish and self-seeking, the entire concept of team comes off the rails and we begin to move away from God's design.

I so deeply desire to be anchored by His concept of team. But I know it starts first with my own self-denial and humility . . . and then it must branch out to the other parts of the team, each individual dying to self, magnifying Jesus, and humbly serving for His greater good.

It's not easy -- it's against every preference of the old nature, but it is God's design.

As a team, let us walk into the glorious future, sacrificing ourselves, our preferences, our agendas, our desires for His greater good and glory. I'm convinced we'll be amazed at what He does through a humble team like this, seeking to serve Him.

May we make much of Jesus, friends, as His team. Because team works.

These Dry Bones

2011-10-26T13:29:00.002-05:00

The longer I'm around, the more I'm convinced that the same God who designed the seasons of life for our planet has done a similar work in our spiritual journey.

God knows if He leaves us in a season of testing too long, we'll crack. Just as we can't stand the extended prosperity of a season of blessing without becoming too self-enamored or prideful.

The seasons of life change as faithfully as the coming of Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter.

Of course, the dirty little secret is that I feel like I've been through a twelve-month calendar about ten times since I became pastor. The journey is fast and furious and the roller coaster has often caught me off-guard.

If I really wanted to scare you, I'd tell you how many things there are involved in being a pastor for which I was completely unprepared . . . no amount of experience, training, and even spiritual maturity can completely prepare a man for this job.

Of course, I think God loves it when we're forced to be dependent on Him. When we have to admit, virtually daily, that we're fish out of water. That we're incapable without His grace, mercy and wisdom. That there are huge expanses of our character and conduct that need to fall under His sharpening Spirit.

And I'm learning to love that margin . . . even when it's difficult and humbling.

Almost daily, as I've grown fatigued, or overwhelmed, or bewildered, I've been pushed back to a place where God's words in Ezekiel 37:4-5 make perfect sense to me:

"Then He said to me, 'Speak a prophetic message to these bones and say, 'Dry bones, listen to the word of the Lord! This is what the Sovereign Lord says: Look! I am going to put breath into you and make you live again!'"

And, every season in which I've grown dry, He has been faithful to breath new life into me . . . and I know He always will. In fact, the more I'm aware of my own frailty, my own need, my own sin, my own issues, the more I'm confident that I can trust Him to quicken and empower me.

Fall and Halloween-time always make me think of skeletons and dry bones. And, this year, I'm more thankful than ever that God is a God who makes all things new, who breathes new life into dry bones.

Breaking the Silence with Bland Code

2011-10-18T19:09:00.002-05:00

I haven't blogged yet in the month of October, which is the longest period of silence I've had since I started my blog over three years ago.

It's not because I don't have a lot to say. It's because I don't know how to say it.

One of my goals when I became pastor was to be transparent, to let people inside my world, to communicate . . . to be honest, open, and real.

It's a worthwhile goal, but it's also a goal that sometimes gets in the way of every known leadership principle.

See, one of the primary principles of good leadership is that you can't let them see you sweat. That you have to always be positive. That you minimize the challenges and you emphasize the good things . . . which inspires people to do more and be better.

That's great stuff, if you're John Maxwell, but it sure does leave you feeling a bit lonely.

I've been on the job now for over four months, and God has done some amazing things. Every numerical standard by which "experts" judge churches has shown the last few months to be phenomenal months of spiritual fruit and progress . . . and yet, to be perfectly honest, the obstacles rise with every step forward.

So what does a "glass half-empty" kind of leader share when things are going great and painful at the same time? Do I candy-coat it? Do I only accentuate the positives? Do I just become a smiling chatty-Kathy and act as if there aren't any challenges or dark moments?

I'm still trying to work it out, but this blog is an effort to wrestle with the challenge. Unfortunately, I still don't have an answer to my dilemma . . . but at least you now know there is one.

The Grace of God

2011-09-29T19:29:00.002-05:00

Last Sunday, our church finally completed our journey to the Lord's Table . . . and, despite the issues of man, God blessed us with a special day.

For weeks, I had felt in my heart that this day would be special. Our spring and summer had been crazy as a church family, with curious events and lots of transition -- and it felt to me that this "Come to the Lord's Table" series was a moment to kind of put a bow on where we were as a people.

It was a chance to get our hearts clean, to seek unity, to regroup and renew our relationship with the Lord . . . and I was overwhelmed by all of the stories from our congregation as people did exactly that.

I had an idea in my mind how I wanted to do the Lord's Supper which, admittedly, was dramatically different from our typical Lord's Supper observance. But, even in my wildest dreams, I never anticipated the way God would show up in our service.

As we became to come forward as a church family to take the elements, I began to experience waves of emotion as I saw individuals, and couples, and families file past to get their bread and cup of juice. I saw faces, and thought of their stories, and it slowly began to dawn on me that I was reliving God's grace, mercy, and even victory in their lives as they passed by me.

In all of my planning, I had not anticipated the power of this train of church members. In fact, I had not considered it at all . . . all of my planning had been directed from the perspective of what it would feel like to come to get the elements. I had never, for a single moment, thought of what it would feel like to watch others come.

But it nearly overwhelmed me. I felt such a powerful presence of the Lord, and I mentally checked off His victories one by one as people passed . . . I saw people who had been lost a year earlier come to the table. I watched as children who weren't supposed to survive their first few weeks come to the table as God's children years later. I watched as husbands served the elements to their wives, marriages that God had miraculously salvaged over the past months.

To put it bluntly, I was racked by the visible demonstration of God's goodness, mercy, and power.

Friends, He truly is good, all the time. May we never cease to marvel at His goodness and grace. And may we prepare our hearts for revival . . . which should be the natural outflow of coming to His table with our hearts right and hands open to celebrate His love and experience His blessings and direction in our lives.

Not surprisingly, this week has been a wild one, with the enemy seeking to destroy the beauty of what we experienced on Sunday. It seems like the pandora's box of discouragement has been opened, but it all reminds me that when God is glorified, the enemy is angered.

But we know who gets the glory, friends. And we know, despite or during it all, that God is good, all the time. May we persevere and see what grace emerges from His hand next.

Shaking Like A Leaf

2011-09-24T20:05:00.002-05:00

As the pastor of our church, I've had the incredible privilege of leading our church family in a four-week series of preparation for the Lord's Supper. It's a sobering opportunity, and I've been frightened by the severity of the moment as described in Scripture (see I Corinthians 11:27-31).

To be honest, it's led me on a very sobering personal journey. Every week, I have an incredible opportunity to preach the Word of God . . . and although it's a glorious privilege, it's also a frightening responsibility.

The Word of God is a beautiful thing, but it is at once mysterious, bold, plain, and incredibly descriptive and somehow still vague. God is not a thing that we can nail down and plainly understand -- He is the Creator of the Universe, and He is so far beyond anything we can imagine.

Earlier this week, I saw where a man I really respect (Ed Stetzer, director of Lifeway ministries) said this: "There are more verses in the Bible to justify you having a concubine than us having a Lifeway."

I just had to chuckle at the authenticity of his quote . . . and it made me shake like a leaf. There are so many things that we practice, that we advocate, that we hang our hats on that are hanging by a slim thread of Scripture, or tradition, or simple personal preference.

And yet I step into the pulpit every week, seeking to make the unknown known. To declare what He has said about Himself in the Word known as plainly as possible.

Friends, I know I don't have it all together. Not personally. Not professionally. And certainly not spiritually.

And, as much as I would like it to be otherwise, I don't understand everything about God's Word. I fear the inevitable . . . there will be a time when I misspeak, there will be a moment when I misinterpret, there will be an incident where I overstate things -- I fear mishandling the Word of God and I can honestly say it haunts me at night.

Sometimes, this fear begins by a question from someone, or when I encounter a particularly difficult passage to interpret, or simply when I listen to the words I am about to preach with such confidence . . . and a severe dose of reckless faith and frailty.

And when I experience this kind of fear, I inevitably think of the haunting lyric of my favorite Rich Mullins' (dead now 14 years this week) tune. Rich was a man after God's own heart, I believe, and he walked this path of human frailty before me, I believe. Anyway, just read this brief portion of lyrics from "Hold Me Jesus:"

"So hold me Jesus 'cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace

And I wake up in the night and feel the dark
It's so hot inside my soul
I swear there must be blisters on my heart."

Tomorrow, I'll lead our church in the taking of the elements of the Lord's Supper. It will be a humbling moment. And, to be transparent, a frightening moment because I know I don't have it all together. I know I don't have all the answers. I know that my theology -- as deeply as I believe it, as boldly as I preach it -- still has cracks, and flaws, and twists to come . . . for I'm only beginning to know the God who calls me His own.

But I also know, despite my limitations, that God is a God of grace. And mercy. And love. And somehow, He takes my best intentions and makes blessings of them and bids me come to His table and drink deeply of the salvation that He has purchased for me.

Also, please don't misconstrue my fears. I know what I believe. And I know the Word of God is inerrant, without error. It's the very breath of God and it is fully sufficient for all faith and practice. And it is meant to be studied, preached, understood and applied -- it's the frail men that are handling it that gives me personal pause.

I have not arrived, but I know what lies in my heart. And I want so desperately to honor Him . . . even when I've lost my way, or I don't know all the answers, or when life seems hard.

I'm shaking like a leaf, friends, but it's often this very fear that makes this ride so sweet. He is an awesome God and I'm thankful to serve Him. Won't you join me?

No Thief Like Fear

2011-09-22T10:43:00.003-05:00

I am convinced that there's no personal journey so difficult as the one toward a healthy self-image.

I've watched children struggle with it, I've watched adults struggle with it, and I certainly have struggled with it myself, particularly through high school and college.

We all battle our internal demons and doubts, and I continue to learn that this fear only has one cure: the love of God.

When we finally realize how completely accepted and loved we are in the eyes of God, this fear can be destroyed . . . at least until the next time the doubts begin to creep in.

If you're on this journey toward a healthy self-image and understanding the amazing love of God and our identity in Christ, I have a resource to recommend to you: the latest album from Jason Gray.

Yes, this is a shameless CD plug. But I can do it without the slightest hesitation or blink. Jason Gray is a wonderful musician, but he has also walked this path of self-discovery and found his identity, his security, his very voice at the foot of the Cross.

Oddly enough, like a Christian version of Mel Tillis, Jason suffers from a speech impediment, a stammer. Since childhood, he has been ridiculed and picked on, and I can only imagine the doubts and fears that have persecuted him.

But his faith -- a dynamic, emotional faith that under girds all of his music -- has slowly conquered his fears. And it's this theme of security in Christ that resonates on his latest album, "A Way to See in the Dark."

The first single released from the album, "Remind Me Who I Am," makes this point crystal clear. Here is Gray's unveiled prayer to God:

"Tell me once again
who I am to you, who I am to you,
Tell me lest I forget,
who I am to you, that I belong to you

When my heart is like a stone
and I'm running far from home
Remind me who I am
When I can't receive your love
Afraid I'll never be enough
Remind who I am
If I'm your beloved
Can you help me believe it?"

I absolutely love that last line: "If I'm your beloved, can you help me believe it?" And, friends, we are His beloved, and -- if we'll listen -- He is willing to do about anything to prove it to us . . . including dying on a Cross for our sins.

But, still, we all struggle with our insecurities, our doubts, our fears. And it is this fear that Gray addresses in my favorite from the new album, "No Thief Like Fear:"

"I'm tried to blame bureaucracy
The weak-knees of hypocrisy
And the cruel and shifting winds of circumstance
But I know insecurity
Is the worst of my own enemies
He sings his lonely song and I will dance
As he robs me blind
right before my eyes

Set me free, set me free
Oh my God set me free
From the chains holding me
Oh my God set me free."

Again, he is expressing the bedrock of the emotional journey I believe we're all on from childhood . . . and the true answers are only found in Jesus Christ. If you'd like a contemporary Christian album that gives birth to these ideas and sings the truth of God's love into your heart, Gray's newest album is for you.

Yes, the music is fantastic. Yes, he has a great voice. But, most importantly, the lyrics are like modern-day psalms, pulling us deeper into the love and acceptance of the Father through the Cross of Christ . . . and, I don't know about you, but I need that. Desperately.

Every day.

(Editor's Note: If you are interested in purchased Gray's CD, it can be found here. And, no, I don't receive any kickbacks from the artist -- just the satisfaction that someone else will encounter God's truth through his music.)

The Story of our Lives

2011-09-19T08:00:00.000-05:00

I'm slowly acclimating to the idea that almost 1,500 people are living my story with me right now . . . it seemed the entire community of Russellville (and certainly our church members) knew about the first vote, the second vote, and even the Dad's Life video this summer.

And that's all right . . . the story wouldn't have turned out the way it did without everyone's prayers and support. And now the story continues -- day in and day out.

I'm learning that there's little separation between our story at FBC and our story at home. It's the new reality of the new job -- and that's okay. It has always been my desire to live a life of complete integration . . . a life where the same values, behaviors, and truths are in play at both work and home.

So, in the vein, I figured I might as well take everyone with me on the next step of our journey: we're selling our house.

No, we're not leaving Russellville. No, we do not know what house we're going to buy. And, no, we don't have a buyer . . . perhaps, in hindsight, I should say, "We're trying to sell our house."

And, of course, I'm prepared for the inevitable, "Well, he just got a new job and now they are going to buy a bigger house," accusations. I've learned that kind of thing just comes with the territory . . . but I won't live in fear of the criticisms.

It is what it is friends -- we tried this over two years ago, for many of the same reasons, and we're going to try it again. We stopped when it didn't sell quickly and our future suddenly began to be a little less than predictable.

A fair question now is: why are you selling your house? And I want to answer that question because it is the story of our lives.

For the longest time, Jamie and I have had a simple desire for our home as our children grow up: we want all of their friends TO WANT to come hang out at our home.

We want to always be the house where there are snacks, and sodas, and pizza by the slice -- and a loving hug, or word of encouragement, or nod of affirmation from an engaged adult. We want our kids' friends to love being in the Sykes home . . . if it's their home away from home, that's perfect for us.

And, even though we have a great home, it's not conducive to this. We need a bit more space to let bigger kids (yes, we assume our kids will eventually get bigger -- the boys are just stalling right now) be kids and relax without adults perched right on top of them.

Plus, we value hospitality. Along with my new responsibilities at the church, we'd love to be a place where friends are always coming over, eating dinner, and enjoying some fellowship together . . . and, again, our current home is a little limited in that kind of space.

And, finally, I'm a little selfish -- I'm looking for a better space to call my own, a study space, a writing nook . . . call it what you want. J.R.R. Tolkien had a writing shack or cabin on his property, thus justifying my desire completely, don't you think?

But, seriously, at least right now when I try to study at home or revive an old writing project, I've got kids tripping all over me. Honestly, I was prepared for a lot of the privileges of being a pastor, but the burden of studying and preparing for Sunday messages has caught me a bit off-guard -- and I need a better space to focus on this, even when I'm not at church.

So, for all of those reasons, the story of our lives is taking a turn. We're putting the ol' hacienda on the market soon and preparing to say goodbye to the house we've called home for the last ten years.

On one hand, we're incredibly spoiled to even be considering it. Yes, we have more room than almost every family in the world, if we want to look at sheer space. I've been to El Salvador, and Juarez, Mexico, and I understand the comparisons.

But, we don't live there -- we live here, in Russellville, and I want the story of our lives to be rich with hospitality, and friendship, and fellowship, and I want to be a surrogate dad to every friend my kids have . . . and I honestly think there's a home out there that will help us do that.

So come along with us on this journey . . . and don't panic when you see that "For Sale" sign in our yard. Please.

The Persistent Foe

2011-09-15T15:27:00.002-05:00

In my life, whether personally or in ministry, I've always had one persistent foe: legalism.

For the first few years of my life in Christ, I struggled mighty with legalism. It took a long journey for me to reach a place where I really began to even scratch the surface of God's incredible grace and mercy.

And, since I've been in ministry, legalism seems to be the one consistent foe that I typically wind up battling head-on, over and over again. To be honest, I believe it's part of God's call on my life . . . He wants me to blow the whistle on legalism and direct people back toward their position in Christ and His incredible grace and freedom.

Like many of you, I've recently read the excellent book, The Help. And, beyond the racism and so many other rich themes, legalism is certainly part of what I saw written on its every page.

Legalism can be used to justify racism, as The Help demonstrates so eloquently. But legalism can also be used to justify disdaining the lost, or despising the poor, or dismissing the hurting. Legalism is a powerful, destructive tool that many Christians wear readily as their primary weapon and armor.

If you don't mind my blog freely lifting from others, Ed Stetzer recently published a lengthy quote from Chuck Swindoll about legalism. This quote says what I want to say so much better than I could say it, so I'm simply going to post it in its entirety. Just listen to Chuck, please!

"The problem with legalists is that not enough people have confronted them and told them to get lost. Those are strong words, but I don't mess with legalism anymore. I'm 72 years old; what have I got to lose? Seriously, I used to kowtow to legalists, but they're dangerous. They are grace-killers. They'll drive off every new Christian you bring to church. They are enemies of the faith. Other than that, I don't have any opinion! So, if I am trying to force my personal list of no-no's on you and make you feel guilty if you don't join me, then I'm out of line and I need to be told that."

Wow . . . those words strike straight to my heart, not just because Chuck Swindoll said them, or because I agree with them, but primarily because they remind me of how Christ handled the Pharisees, the primary legalists of His time, during His journey to the Cross.

As a pastor who sincerely wants to reach people for Christ and continue to shepherd a growing, vibrant church that reflects authentic Christianity, the description "grace-killers" gives me incredible pause. The sentence, "They'll drive off every new Christian you bring to church," frightens me. And, to be frank, the challenge, "The problem with legalists is that not enough people have confronted them and told them to get lost," really resonates with me.

Maybe I'm not quite at the place where I have the chips to tell legalists to get lost, but I think I am ready to tell them they are out of line. I'd like to think I'll do it with grace and humility and compassion for them, too, but I may fail on occasion.

But I'd rather run off the grace-killers than see grace killed.

Inertia

2011-09-07T14:55:00.002-05:00

Out of everything I was forced to study in school, science was easily my most loathed subject.

In college, I had to have eight hours of science to graduate (two classes and two accompanying labs). I wound up essentially auditing botany, intro to biology, microbiology, and chemistry before I managed to pass geology and astronomy.

So, even though I want to talk about a scientific term today (inertia), you know I can't do it from a science perspective.

I know, technically, that inertia is "the resistance of any physical object to a change in its state of motion or rest." But, for me -- in my profession -- inertia is "the resistance of any church to a change in its state of motion or rest."

There's something about church culture that seems to breed this disease of inertia. If I haven't described it properly, let me give you a simple quiz to determine if you are infected.

If, when you hear of a change at your church, your first question is, "How does that affect me?" then you can be confident you have the disease of inertia.

Or, equally, when you hear of a change at your church, your first thought is, "But I would prefer this instead," then you can be confident you have the disease of inertia.

Even though Christ never modeled values of inertia that involve protecting our own turf, our own preferences, and our interests, especially at the expense of others, the disease of inertia certainly does . . . and it spreads like wildfire.

As author and pastor Thom Ranier has accurately said, "Too often the church has become a symbol of gathering together for one another rather than scattering for the sake of others."

Inertia causes us to be internally focused rather than looking out for the interests of others. Or, as John Bisagno has said, "The satisfied church is the church doomed to die."

If our mission is just to keep our members happy, inertia will reign. But if it's our desire to reach the lost, to disciple, to challenge and change lives . . . well, inertia must be defeated and innovation, change, and creativity must be embraced.

I love the fact that I've been blessed to serve in a church that's always looking to reach new people, to impact our community, to reach the nations . . . inertia isn't a core value. But that doesn't mean we don't occasionally hear, "But how does that affect me?" or "But I would prefer this instead . . ."

And I did learn something in all those science classes: the best way to eliminate inertia is to set the inert object into motion. And we're moving forward, always forward, friends!

The Foundation

2011-09-06T10:04:00.000-05:00

As we move toward my third month as pastor at FBC, I'm beginning to to feel like the cobwebs are clearing and I've got a better understanding of where this big ship is headed.

I'll readily admit that the previous six months was a whirlwind -- I had a million and one conversations about what a pastor should look like, what his priorities should be, and what the church expects of him . . . and many of those conversations contradicted one another.

To be honest, it was slightly overwhelming and very intimidating.

But the solution, at least in my mind, was simple: God's opinion is the only one that counts.

Yet, I knew in my heart that I couldn't find the template for being the pastor at FBC from the past or from a handful of perspectives . . . I needed to walk in those shoes for a few months, listen to the Lord and the church, and allow things to slowly sift out.

And now, three months in, I'm starting to feel confident that I understand the foundation which I must lay as Pastor of FBC Russellville. Thankfully, it's best explained in two simple concepts.

First, a pastor is a preacher, not a CEO.

Now, depending on your church size, that may not make a whole lot of sense. But, in a larger church like ours, it's a big deal. Stephen Olford wisely wrote, "A pastor belongs in a study, not an office," and I agree with him.

My first and most important priority is to preach the Word in a way that brings Him glory and challenges the heart of our church members. The real power lays in the Word -- not in my personal charisma, or jokes, or fleshly intelligence -- and that real power is only wielded when the Word is being preached.

Yes, our church is large and some folks expect the pastor to run things like a businessman or a politician, but that's not a healthy perspective. As pastor, first and foremost, I believe I'll be judged in eternity future for how I preached the Word of God. I must focus on proper study of the Word and the needs of our congregation, preparation of messages, and then delivery of those messages.

Second, a pastor is a shepherd, not a CEO.

Now, it would be easy to assume this is just a different way of stating the previous priority, but -- after three months on the job -- I'm convinced it's a different concept entirely.

At our church, at least, I could spend all of my time directing ministry, planning ministry, coaching the staff team, and planning the business affairs of the church -- while completely neglecting the sheep. But that's not what God intends for a pastor.

The Scripture is consistent in regards to the office of the pastor: time in and time again, the pastor is referred to as a shepherd. And the shepherd must be with his sheep.

As pastor, my relationship with our congregation is critical. My time should be spent getting to know the entire congregation as best as possible and investing in their lives . . . and that cannot be done while constantly managing the business affairs of the church.

Fortunately, our church is large enough to employ a pastoral team who assists with the business and ministry of the church. John Stott, a wonderful evangelical leader who recently passed away, never liked the use of the word "minister" for pastors in a church because he thought it confused the church leadership structure.

In Scripture, pastors are to equip the saints for the work of ministry . . . pastors lead the church members into ministering. So, accordingly, all church members are to be "ministers," while the "pastors" lead and direct.

Again, in FBC, we have a large, amazing pastoral team to assist in this regard, from Tom Walker to Larry Walker (oldest to youngest), and I'm relying on this team (and our deacons and other key leaders) to help manage the day-to-day affairs of the church so I can focus on my two priorities: preaching the Word and shepherding the sheep.

I can't explain it any simpler than that . . . that's the pastoral foundation upon which I plan to build.

So, if you expect your pastor to be a CEO, you'll probably be disappointed. I'm going to spread the responsibility for key decision-making among a broader team of church leaders (the pastoral team, the deacons, and other lay leaders), and I'm going to focus on two key things: preaching the Word and shepherding the sheep.

We've only begun to unpack the ramifications of this foundation, but we'll get there -- together. And, as I've felt the confirmation of the Lord and our church on this simple job description, I've felt a sense of excitement and energy begin to run through me.

The foundation has been laid . . . now we're going to build upon it and see where God takes us!

A Father's Instruction

2011-09-03T09:25:00.004-05:00

Last night, my boys and I started the new college football season off right. We snuggled up together on the couch and watched a little Friday night football on the big screen.

As always, it was a time of rapid-fire questions, as their eager minds tried to understand the game (not an easy task for a six and eight-year-old).

"Daddy, who are we for?"

"Daddy, is that a lizard? Why do they call it a Horned Frog?"

"Daddy, why is holding a penalty?"

"Daddy, why did he want to throw the ball to the other team?"

"Daddy, why is their defense so bad?"

"Daddy, how does Houston Nutt still have a job?"

Oops, maybe they didn't ask that last question, but you get the point. Watching football with my boys is a beautiful combination of pleasure and pain for me. I love the joy of enjoying an activity together . . . I love knowing that we are going to enjoy many, many games together in the future. It's a hobby that we can grow old together appreciating.

But, also, it has its difficulties, if you don't mind me being transparent. I don't multi-task particuarly well. I struggle to watch a football game, listen to the announcers, and field 1,343 questions from two little boys in a ten-minute time span.

My little pea-brain can begin to shutdown and my flesh begins to win out and I get kind of short-tempered and grumpy. Now, I know this never happens to you, but I guess I'm just a little fragile.

After I told them who Arkansas was playing today for the 300th time, I think my mind was about to explode . . . and then I was at loss for words to explain why TCU kept kicking field goals when their kicker seemed to be less than stellar.

"Daddy, why don't teams just keep going for it on every fourth down?"

"Daddy, what is field position? Why is it important?"

"Daddy, why punt at all?"

One way or the other, as my mind was slowly frying despite the fact that a part of my "fatherhood" quotient was beaming at my boys' growing love of the sport, it suddenly dawned on me that God and I had been around the same block many times.

I'm thankful the Father never gets exasperated with my questions. I'm thankful He always cherishes our time together, no matter how silly I am, no matter how selfish, how petty, and how "me" focused I've become.

His grace and mercy is inexhaustible, and that's a great comfort to me -- because I know I am not wired that way. I want to be, but I know I am not.

But, also, I'm always reminded (humbled, actually) that I don't always come to my Father with questions like a little child. I come to Him with demands, with pride, with a "know-it-all" perspective, and I try to tell Him why He has got it wrong, what I need Him to do, how He can fix things . . . and even then He doesn't snap His fingers and turn me to dust.

And, amazingly, the deeper my appreciation of the Father's love, the better father I become. Yet, again, I've learned something . . . for a Father's instruction is never done.

The Measuring Stick

2011-08-30T19:27:00.002-05:00

As people, we always like to measure things.

It starts on day one when we quote baby statistics -- everyone wants to know how many pounds, ounces, and inches. And then, from that point forward, we're always categorizing babies, and children, and even adults by their age.

In sports, statistics are king. You have to measure everything: batting averages, earned run average, yards per carry, passing yards, and -- obviously -- the final score.

We measure the value of a job by how much it pays, and we determine a bargain by how much it costs.

And, of course, we do the same thing in church . . . especially, as Baptists, we're known to count everything.

Inevitably, I knew when I became a pastor that, for good or ill, I would initially be judged by many based solely on statistics. How's attendance? How's giving? And, if the measurables are all okay, than I must be doing a good job.

But, to be honest, that's a very superficial way to look at church. The Scripture is very plain about how God judges a man: by the heart (not by his age, his height, or even his girth . . . thank goodness).

And, in fairness, we should probably judge church the same way. Every person counts, don't misunderstand me there . . . but what God wants to see is life change. Heart change. Spiritual growth.

And those things are hard to measure.

By the standards of the world and its fetish with statistics, Jesus was incredibly unsuccessful. He passed up opportunities to do large crusades. He didn't collect a lot of love offerings. He didn't build a big church -- in fact, on multiple occasions, He seemed to even try to run people off.

But the work He did in the hearts of 11 men counted over the test of time . . . His core disciples began a movement that still impacts us today. He focused His attention (ignoring flattering statistics) and changed the world in a revolutionary way.

So, despite our success lately when it comes to "measurables," I still stand before the Lord without a visible measuring stick for my ministry. Only He can judge the heart; only He can see the real fruit. And only time will tell, I would think.

As Oswald Chambers has wisely said, "Don't rejoice in successful service, but rejoice because you are rightly related to Me (Jesus)."

I pray that I always keep that in mind . . . and I pray that I always focus the lion's share of my time in ministry at the heart, using the Word of God to do the heavy lifting and hoping that the Holy Spirit will convict, direct and change.

That's the measuring stick that matters . . . but it's not the one we typically use.

Sacred vs. Secular

2011-08-25T15:21:00.002-05:00

I continue to struggle with the fear that the church has created a chasm between the sacred and the secular that is not healthy.

Oh, but don't worry: I'm not talking about morality here. I'm not talking about labeling music, and books, and entertainment as secular.

I'm thinking about the difference between church work and "secular" work.

I was discussing this earlier this week with a friend who mentioned a John Stott quote referring to church leaders as "ministers." Stott didn't like that term because, as he accurately believes from the New Testament, all Christians are called to be ministers.

And there's that divide I don't like: for so many Christians, the work of the ministry -- the so-called "sacred" duties of evangelism, discipleship, and even preaching and teaching -- are entirely the realm of the minister (let's say "pastor"). They just punch a time clock at work at go about their "business," only entering the "sacred" realm when they enter church.

But the New Testament doesn't support this position at all. There's no divide between our work and our ministry, friends. Period.

Yes, pastors are set aside by the church and given specific roles and responsibilities, but that doesn't eliminate every believer's task to minister and do the work of the ministry.

Call it semantics, if you like, but I think it's a problem. And it's, ultimately, one of the reasons why, in most churches, 80% of the work is done by 20% of the people. We've divided the secular and the sacred for so long that we've dug ourselves a ditch from which we can't get out.

I'll be honest . . . I tried to cross this divide by writing some Christian fiction novels. To some degree, they are "secular." Some might even call them horror stories . . . but they are also redemptive. They point people toward Christ. And I like to think they are entertaining.

But not everyone receives such "secular" dabbling by a minister particularly well. And, yet, those books will probably reach an audience that my pulpit ministry never well -- or at least they have that potential.

To God, there is no great divide between the secular and the sacred. While it is true we need to guard against the secular overtaking the sacred when it comes to church, there is no prohibition from the sacred invading the secular.

If you are an artist, freely use your talents to both make a living and impact the kingdom. Same is true if you are a journalist, or an accountant, or an entrepreneur. Or anything else, for that matter.

It's not one or the other, friends. It should be both at the same time; in fact, both all the time.

How are we doing?

The Past Comes Calling

2011-08-21T19:26:00.002-05:00

I'm a big believer that there's something magical about the heart of a child. There are parts of my childhood that I've been saddened to see pass to the wayside . . . the wonder, the innocence, the sheer joy at simple things.

Life just drives the child away, in most cases. And while I believe everyone needs to grow up and transition to adulthood and maturity, there are elements of being a child that would serve us well to remain in our hearts.

But there are parts of my childhood I don't want to relive. And one of those experiences reclaims me tomorrow . . . let me bore you with the story.

Back when I was about eight years old, I lost a few baby teeth and my adult teeth never appeared. This was curious, so a dental appointment followed, accompanied by the inevitable x-rays.

And, guess what? I learned I was some sort of Arkansas record (the kind of record you don't want to set): I had eight congenitally-missing teeth.

Those are big words and you're probably wondering what they mean. In layman's terms, that means eight of my adult teeth never formed. Period.

Even today, at age 41, I have one baby tooth left . . . there's nothing behind it to push it out and I've treated it like royalty for all these years, trying to delay the inevitable -- implant surgery.

I've already got one implant (it sports three fake teeth). I had to have that one done back in my 20s. But, just recently, my last baby tooth began to sway and wiggle like a small tree in a hurricane. I knew its days were numbered.

And, following the last sentence of this blog, I'm going to walk into my bathroom and pull it. No reason to pay for an extraction when the thing no longer even has a root . . . and then, tomorrow, I get my implant.

Yes, I know this is boring. TMI, as the youth texting code would putting it. But there's a bigger picture here.

I still remember the feeling of fear and uncertainty I felt when my dentist told me at age eight that I was missing eight adult teeth. I had braces for seven years, I had a permanent retainer that I wore for much longer than that, and I spent more time in a chair at the dentist or the orthodontist than I care to add up.

And, to be frank, I hated it. It made me feel small, and frail, and somehow less than whole.

And, right now, over 32 years after the fact, I still feel the same way. But, finally, I've learned to appreciate that feeling for what it is: the truth.

For, you see, my faith reminds me that I am small, and frail, and somehow less than whole. But, in Christ, I am free, and righteous, and His child . . . and no birth defect, or dental work, or future event can change that.

So let me go pull this tooth and get this over with. I'll drape myself with my new spiritual analogy and act like everything's just all right . . . but, just between us, I know I'm going to feel like I'm eight years old when the oral surgeon approaches with that long needle.

And that's okay -- I need to feel that way on occasion. I'm just a child . . . His child, and I'm okay with that. How about you?

Arrows or Targets

2011-08-15T07:18:00.002-05:00

If you're like me, you're having one of those cathartic, emotional moments this morning as we're bundling our little squirrels off to a new year of school.

It can be a frightening moment. And, occasionally, let's be honest -- it can bring a sense of relief . . . maybe a little sanity will reign at home again with them out of the house for a few hours every day.

But, sometimes, just every so often, it can be a moment that makes a parent's heart swell with a measure of pride.

In the midst of the swirl of emotions last night as I tucked my children into bed, prayerfully seeking to get their hearts right for the next day and their new adventures at school, I had an amazing encounter with my middle child, Carter.

And, right up front, let me be honest: we've done nothing worthy of where his little heart is right now with the Lord. That's a work of God's grace, but I'll sure take it.

Anyway, here's what happened:

As I was praying for Carter, he asked me a question. He said, "Daddy, do I have to ask my friends to pray the same way you taught me to pray?"

A little confused, I said, "Pray about what?"

"Pray about asking Jesus into their hearts. Do I have to have them pray the same prayer we prayed or can I kind of do it my own way?"

Amazed, I just kind of sat there fumbling for words and then, finally, said, "What's important is that they know they have sinned and Jesus paid for their sins, and they just need to ask Him to forgive them and come into their hearts."

He smiled back up at me and said, "Good, dad. But I don't think very many of them knew what I was talking about last year when I tried to tell them that they needed to have Jesus in their hearts."

To simplify this story, I discovered he had talked individually to everyone of his classmates last year about Jesus. And, as he heads into the second grade, he is determined to do the same thing again . . . we even talked about how God can reach even the most hard-hearted child with the Gospel.

He amazed me, let me be completely honest. And he humbled me. His innocence and love for the Father reminded me that he is my arrow, not my target, if you understand my meaning. In Psalm 127:4, God says, "Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth."

I honestly want to raise up little arrows and fire them off into the world, but it's all too easy to make our children targets instead. They become the center of our affection, our attention, our desire, and our energy . . . and we cater to them, we shelter them, we structure everything around them to keep them happy and safe.

But you can't be both the target and the arrow. At some point, friends, we have to release our children into the world with a bold bending of the bow and a clear sense of letting go.

Even in the second grade, I'm reminded that my little arrow is already seeking his target, if I'll let him.

Pondering Pogo

2011-08-11T21:14:00.003-05:00

Can I take a moment and break every rule of blogging and start this piece with some casual drivel about my past that many of you will probably find less than enthralling?

I was blessed with the opportunity to serve as a graduate assistant to a wonderful professor, Roy Reed, while I was working on my Master's degree in Journalism at the University of Arkansas.

Professor Reed was quite a student of history and, equally, a phenomenal journalist. He had helped cover the Civil Rights movement for the New York Times, and -- despite his natural humility -- he was always inadvertently dropping references to famous politicians, journalists, and historians he knew well.

One day, he regaled me with stories from the historic Freedom March from Selma, Alabama, to the state Capitol in Montgomery in March 1965. It was an incredible event, and he was right there, at the front of the march, watching it all take place.

And, as I said, he was an incredible student of history, as well as the well-timed word. Among many memorable lessons he taught me, he introduced me to a long-forgotten comic strip by a man named Walt Kelly that ran from 1948-1975 called, "Pogo."

Professor Reed was always quoting one of Pogo's most famous lines. Perhaps you've heard it and never knew where it came from: "We have met the enemy and he is us."

Recently, I had an encounter that reminded me of that quote and caused me to engage in about three days of introspection. In that encounter, I was accused of being the epitome of what I sincerely detest the most . . . and I heard Professor's Reed's wise voice echoing in my ear.

"We have met the enemy and he is us."

I certainly didn't want to be guilty of the crimes of which I had been accused, but I also didn't want to take chances that the criticism was valid. And I'd encourage you to use the same approach when someone accuses you of something you absolutely can't imagine being true . . . don't take their word for it, don't take your own word for it -- but test yourself with the Word of God and others in your life that you trust.

Which is exactly what I did. I gave some people I trust the opportunity to speak truth into my life and either deny or verify the charge that had been leveled against me, just in case I had become my own worst enemy.

Now, I'm happy to report that the consensus says I'm off the hook . . . this time. But, until we're on the other side of eternity, the possibility always exists that we'll become our own worst enemies. It is a wise man who never trusts his own heart, my friends!

Going to War

2011-08-02T08:40:00.002-05:00

I wonder how often we look at our prayer lives as a matter of war, and yet that is exactly how prayer is regarded in Scripture.

Yet, for most of us, prayer is an after-thought. It's something we do when we have time. It's something we do when we think of it. It's something we do when we manage to stay awake, or when we can't sleep, or we're desperate.

But that line of logic -- which I believe is all too prevalent in most of our lives -- is a shame.

J.I. Packer has wisely said, "It may bring clarity and realism here to declare explicitly that petitioning, praising, meditating, and maintaining each of these under pressure are acts of war . . . warfare against the supernatural being who is God's sworn enemy and ours too."

But do we really see prayer as going to war? I don't think so.

Prayer is also communing with God, and He is a rewarder of those who seek Him -- Scripture promises us that. But it's also our primary means to defend ourselves against the enemy's attacks and to counterattack his evil work . . . but, again, most of us hardly take prayer seriously.

Can we, just for a moment, talk real plainly about prayer?

Prayer is hard work, friends. It is warfare. It doesn't come easy for many. And it's about time we get serious about it and find what works for us. Again, I love the practicality of Packer's words:

"If you find that your thoughts wander when you are praying silently, pray aloud. If you find that once the day gets going, you can never find time to pray, get up earlier and pray before you do anything else. If you find that your thoughts and words simply won't come together, write out the petition that you are seeking to get into focus and use your own written prayer to present the matter to God."

Hmmm -- isn't that just good, sound, practical thinking on prayer? Yes, it's hard, but we can find simple solutions for what limits our prayer life in Packer's common-sense approach. And his clear wisdom continues:

"Take note of whatever distracts you from prayer and try to avoid it. These are just commonsense tools of help. They will not make hanging on in prayer easy, but they may help to make it possible. Get real then in prayer. Get serious and keep going."

Get serious and keep going -- I love that line!

Who is ready to go to war in prayer, friends? I know I have this burden on my heart, if only it applies to First Baptist Church of Russellville (although I believe it sweeps far beyond that): prayer matters, prayer counts.

God is up to something amazing, but only prayer will sustain us. If we do not pray -- and pray diligently, pray desperately, pray like we are going to war -- we will miss out on the best of what God plans to do . . . not because He does not love us, not because the outcome depends on our effort -- but precisely because prayer is not about us but about Him.

Who is ready to go to war, friends? Let's get it done and see what God does when His people earnestly, desperately, humbly reach out to Him in consistent prayer!

Running Flat

2011-07-27T10:37:00.002-05:00

Anybody else out there like to compartmentalize their life? Or is just me?

Take, for instance, an experience I had over the past week. Admittedly, my life has been a bit unusual over the last few months. You don't need to know my entire story to recognize that things have been less than predictable.

And, in the ministry, it's easy for me to trust God with the craziness. When I'm tired, when I'm stretched, when I'm pushed into situations for which I'm spiritually unprepared, inexperienced, or uneducated, I'm remarkable faithful.

I know you might read the above paragraph and think I'm being sarcastic, but I'm not. When I'm confronted with obvious spiritual tests, I'm pretty spiritual. When I clearly need to exercise faith, I tend to seek to earnestly trust God. Really, I do.

It's the "not-so-clear" tests that get me.

Put me in the pulpit and I'm desperate for the hand of God. Put me on the mission field or give me a chance to share the Gospel with a stranger and I'm spirit-sensitive and God-oriented. Run me ragged with spiritual tests and conflicts and I go into battle mode and, typically, become very God-focused.

That's not a pat on my back, friends -- that's a confession. Because, when the heat is off and life is normal, I tend to compartmentalize and put God on the back-burner.

Take, for instance, my past week. After months of craziness involving church and ministry, I slipped away for a few days of vacation with the family. I honestly needed to turn off the adrenaline, the pressure, the constant spiritual grind.

But, as is typical with my pea-brain, I also tried to turn off my understanding of my constant need to be dependent on God.

Take it from me, friends: when you go on vacation, your spiritual relationship with God -- your need for Him -- is unchanged . . . even if you deceive yourself into thinking you can turn it off and put things on cruise control.

How do I know? Because I failed that test on my vacation and was reminded of my need of Him . . . even when life is mundane. On my vacation, a series of strange circumstances began to push me to my limits and I was very slow to learn what was going on. Every time I felt my energy sapped and my flesh began to rise within me, I just kept telling myself to "relax" and "unplug."

But I should have been pushing myself to trust God and seek to walk intimately with Him. Dependence on Him shouldn't change, regardless of the situation before us, whether I'm in the pulpit or on vacation.

I'm sure you are wondering what happened on my vacation, but I want to assure you it was nothing out of the ordinary. I had a great time with my family . . . when I wasn't walking in the flesh or stewing over things that didn't go the way I wanted them to.

We had two flats -- yes, you heard me right -- two. The fleshly part of me was frustrated when the first one cost me $25 and three hours in a tire shop. The fleshly part of me absolutely rebelled when the second one almost destroyed the rim of my tire, nearly stranded us on the interstate, narrowly failed to cause an accident, and cost me $160 and another hour of our "vacation."

And the hotel we were staying in had a fire alarm at 1:30 a.m. on Thursday night. Yes, you heard me right -- 1:30 a.m., when I should have been sleeping like a baby on my "vacation." Instead, I was gathering personal belongings and ushering my family out into the parking lot for a few hours in the middle of the night.

Then, to top things off, I managed to get us lost in downtown Kansas City. No, not the pretty downtown -- with the Plaza, etc. -- but the part of downtown Kansas City that no one likes to talk about. And I managed, in that moment, to snap at my wife like someone had unfettered my tongue and my old nature was suddenly driving the train.

Every time something went haywire, I just kept saying, "I'm on vacation. Relax." And the more I tried to relax, the more fleshly I became. It was ugly, to be frank.

And you know why? My own stupidity, to be honest. I forgot the simplest spiritual principle (yes, preachers still do this, friends).

When I'm in the pulpit, I'm desperately dependent on God . . . because I know I need to be. I know there's nothing good in me. I know I'm not capable of bringing Him glory unless He is in charge.

Well, guess what? That principle doesn't change, even when I'm on vacation. The worse things got, the more I simply needed to turn to Him and rest in Him. That was the only way I was really going to experience the rest of "vacation."

I finally remembered -- and surrendered -- to this spiritual principle on the fourth day of my four-day vacation. Until then, I had just been running flat.

Moving Forward

2011-07-16T10:28:00.002-05:00

Many of you know, or are slowly learning, that I have a great appreciation for history. And although I know there are many preachers out there that get excited about planting a completely new church in a new community, I love the fact that God has called me to a church with a sense of history.

I love the foundation that has been laid in the years before me at First Baptist Russellville. I love the fact that about ten days into my new job, I received an encouraging email from Jack Riley, the former pastor of FBC over 28 years ago. And I love the fact that this Sunday we'll be celebrating the legacy of Stephen Davis, the pastor who preceded me for the previous 27 years.

That's an awesome foundation. It's an amazing, humbling thing to walk into the footsteps of not only Jack Riley and Stephen Davis, but also Tommy Havens, Jeremy Aylett, Heath Bryant, Kelly Whitney, Lindy Apon, Carroll Farmer, Jamie Gilbert, Johnny Burnett and many, many others.

There is a rich sense of history at FBC, and the foundation laid for ministry, for reaching the lost world, for discipleship, for fulfilling Acts 1:8 on an international basis, is incredible and exciting.

But, such a foundation also comes with a price. I'm mindful of Paul's wise words in Philippians 3:13-14: "Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."

As Paul said, we have not arrived. We have not yet completed our task. And, no matter how rich or fulfilling our past has been, it's time to keep moving forward.

I so appreciate the past, but I see the danger of many having become trapped in it. I don't mean to pour cold water on this passion of moving forward, I don't mean to say anything negative about the past . . . but we can't move forward if remain trapped in the past.

Paul says it quite curiously: "One thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead."

He calls forgetting the past and moving forward one thing. As if we can't move forward without forgetting the past.

And, after a lengthy interview process, a crazy voting process, and a whirlwind first three weeks on the job, I -- not surprisingly -- have come to believe that Paul knew exactly what he was talking about.

I love history. I want to celebrate FBC's history. I want to learn from our past. But we can't remain stuck there. We can't frame every discussion, every challenge, every future decision with a comparison or an argument from the past.

It's time to move forward, friends. And moving forward starts by freeing ourselves from the past.

Let us do so for one simple reason, the same goal Paul always had in mind: "For the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."

Who's with me?

Getting to Know You

2011-07-10T20:25:00.002-05:00

Every week I settle into my new job, it dawns on me that even those who really think they know me hardly know me, if that makes sense. There's something about transitioning into a new role that makes people do a double-take, as if they are seeing you for the first time.

In the first few weeks, I've realized people don't know whether or not to laugh when I make a joke during my sermon. I hope it's not because I'm not funny but just because you aren't familiar with my sense of humor yet.

But give it time . . . I want to know you, and I hope you want to know me. I sincerely believe that transparency and intimacy makes a church's relationship to its pastor and his ability to communicate Scripture all the stronger.

So, in that vein, be prepared for lots of looks behind the curtain, into my personal life. I know that can be scary, but I honestly believe its profitable -- it keeps me accountable, but it also develops a rapport between the preacher and his congregation that accelerates learning.

It'll take some getting used to, but we'll get there. But a lot of things will take some getting used to . . . like last Sunday's experience. Right in the middle of my message, my youngest son came barreling down the aisle. I know I had the "deer in the headlights" look because I quite literally lost my train of thought.

Now, this caught me off-guard on several levels. First of all, my youngest son has never been old enough to be in the sanctuary when I preach . . . so I wasn't thinking about seeing him. Secondly, I've never been "the" pastor when my son trooped off to the bathroom in the middle of my message.

I really thought for a minute he was coming up on stage, quite possibly to ask to go to the potty.

And these are the kind of things you're going to have to get used to when you hired the Sykes family . . . hope you're ready for it. But we're going to laugh about it, we're going to be real, we're going to enjoy life, and -- hopefully -- we're going to grow closer to Christ together.

That's the big challenge, and you're going to have to trust me to get there. Just as I want you to get to know me, I want to get to know you. And that takes mutual trust.

I'm looking forward to it, friends. Let's enjoy the ride and see what God does!

Information Overload

2011-07-04T09:52:00.003-05:00

If you are a regular reader of this blog but not a citizen of Russellville or a member of First Baptist Church of Russellville, you might want to skip this particular blog. You're about to receive a lot of details regarding new communication methods to help a big church stay up to speed with everything that is happening.

As I went through the lengthy interview process, one thing continued to come up: communication. Over and over again, I heard that people felt disconnected from the details of church.

Now, to be honest, that's a little predictable in a church with over 1,500 active members. And in a day in age when people no longer like to read and the church bulletins tend to just gather dust in a pew just as soon as they are handed out.

But, in response to this obvious struggle, I've actively pursued some new ideas to help keep everyone more engaged in the church and -- subsequently, I hope -- more engaged in spiritual growth and discipleship.

I'm going to rattle off a few new "social media" techniques we are going to employ to, hopefully, greatly increase our ability to communicate with our church.

1. Beginning this next week (if all goes well), you will receive a newsletter from your pastor, giving lots of detail about upcoming events, what God is doing behind the scenes at FBC, etc. This newsletter will initially be mailed out but -- after the first edition -- it will only be available as electronic correspondence (a PDF file you will receive via email) or copies can be picked up at church.

Postage simply costs too much, and the church is forced to mail entirely too much correspondence. So, if only for this newsletter, we're going to encourage everyone to make sure we have an email on file and we'll email you this document. For the first edition, you will receive an accompanying postcard that asks that you update all of your critical contact info: email, cell phone number, mailing address, etc. Hopefully, this will be a successful, new communication method.

2. Don't neglect the obvious -- social media. For some months now, I've been maintaining a Facebook account and using it to communicate lots of church-related information. If you aren't on Facebook, jump in! The church also has a Facebook page (you can find it under First Baptist Church of Russellville) and most of our ministry areas and staff members have their own pages, too.

3. Also, along this line, I have jumped into the twitter universe. It's another great communication method, and I can be found here: @sykes_light. And FBC Russellville now has a twitter account, which will be used for reminders regarding deadlines, to promote events, to share upcoming sermon information, etc. It can be found here: @FBCRussellville.

4. In the next month or so, we will be rolling out an all-new website, with greatly enhanced media resources and utility on smart phones. The address will remain the same: www.fbcruss.org, but little else will look the same. Be looking for these major changes in August of this year.

5. And, finally, perhaps the newest innovation that we've plunged into is the world of podcasting. Beginning just yesterday, our sermons are now available via podcasting. You can receive these audio files in two easy ways. First of all, feel free to navigate on the web to: http://fbcruss.podbean.com/. Or just click on this link!

You can also subscribe to our podcasts via iTunes, which is a convenient way to begin receiving all updated content. Simply go to the iTunes store and search for "FBC Russellville," and you should find our podcast channel. It will walk you through how to subscribe. But, even if you can't figure that out, just go back each time you want new content and click on the dated sermon files.

So, there you go: all the communication methods were are launching into as quickly as possible. I am so indebted to the work of our media guru, Justin Myrick, for making so much of this happen. He is an incredible minister with college and international students, but he is also one talented media man. He did all of the filming for our "Dad's Life" video, which has already received over 1,500 hits on YouTube, which is only more great advertising for our church.

Please jump in and take advantages of these new resources and don't hesitate to let us know if there are other avenues we are missing. We want to remain teachable and effective in this area . . . which means we'll have to be learning all the time.

Hope that's not information overload . . . but that's would be an all-new criticism for FBC!

Testing in Progress

2011-06-28T16:35:00.002-05:00

This past Sunday, I had the opportunity to preach on Job's life from Scripture. Many members of our church (and readers of this blog, as well) were probably tempted to assume I did so based upon some of my personal experiences of the last six months.

But, to be completely honest, my heart for the book of Job was developed in the summer of 1994. During that summer, God (almost literally) picked me up by the scruff of the neck and shook me until some of my personal arrogance and confidence drained out my toes and ran away.

I was humbled and broken that summer in ways that I cannot describe to you. And, as I read through the book of Job during the middle of that experience, I saw Job 16:12. That passage is a confession from Job which says, "I was at ease and He shattered me."

Those words resonated with me. I was pretty religiously superior at the time. I was even more than a little intellectually superior. To be honest, I just felt flat superior -- I was young, healthy, successful, religious and obviously going places.

And I was ease and He shattered me. I learned lessons that summer that I have never forgotten. I entered the summer arrogant and prideful and I returned with a self-image built upon God's unconditional love for me and a proper understanding of my fallen condition but also God's grace and mercy.

I was forever changed, and the lessons from that summer have never left me. I pray they never do . . . the humility and brokenness I experienced then are still the best of who I am today.

That summer, I admitted that God was big and I am small. I saw that He was God and I am not.

And that, my friends, has made all the difference. May I never forget!

How About A Helmet?

2011-06-25T09:06:00.002-05:00

In difficult times, it's so easy to fixate on the negative. To see the challenge before us like a mountain that cannot be conquered, like a vast ocean in which to sink.

It's human nature to make the sorrows bigger than they really are.

But I Thessalonians 5:8 reminds us to put on "the breastplate of faith and love, and as a helmet the hope of salvation." That's a simple verse with a truth that resonates deeply in times of sorrow and difficulty.

I don't know what trouble you have seen. I don't know where you are at and how deep and dark you feel your personal hole is, but I know this: God is sufficient. His love is everlasting. And, if you have Christ in your heart, you have hope.

Personally, I have been challenged like never before to be an imitator of Christ. To walk like He walked. To see life like He saw life.

In His darkest moments, even in the Garden of Gethsemane -- as He prepared for the Cross and the pain of separation from His Father due to the evil of our sin -- He never doubted nor despaired. He suffered, but He did not despair.

Christ modeled a deep, abiding trust in God in the middle of the storm, and He came through on the other side as more than a conqueror . . . and I believe this is what God desires for us.

He wants us to be quiet and steady, even when life is upside down. He wants us to trust, even when we can no longer see or feel His hand at work. He wants us to put on that calming helmet of salvation and rest in Him and our glorious future, even if our sorrow swallows us whole.

He can be trusted. He is in control. He is at work, friends. Always. May we never forget it.

It does not mean we will not weep. It does not mean we will not fear. It does not mean we will not be taken to the end of ourselves . . . it does not mean we will be spiritual robots, unfeeling, unthinking, unshaken. But it does mean -- even when we are at the end of our rope -- we will know, deep in our hearts, that God will never let go!

It reminds me of a portion of Colossians 1:13-20 that has continued to pervade my thoughts over the last six months. Just let these truths about Christ to wash over you today:

"For He rescued from the domain of darkness, and transferred us to the kingdom of His beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, for the forgiveness of sins.

"His is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by Him all things were created, both in the heavens and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities -- all things have been created through Him and for Him.

"He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.

"He is also head of the body, the church; and He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that He Himself will come to have first place in everything. For it was the Father's good pleasure for all the fullness to dwell in Him, and through Him to reconcile all things to Himself, having made peace through the blood of His cross; through Him, I say, whether things on earth or things in heaven."

Friends, He can be trusted. In the darkest night, the bright day, in the storm, in the celebration. Trust Him in your victories, and trust Him in your sorrows. Let us rest in Him, like faithful children!

A song that has helped ingrain this truth in my heart is, "They Still Believe," by Josh Wilson. He wrote this song based on an experience he had on a mission trip to Mumbai, India, and it expresses the truth of this post very well, in my opinion.

"They Still Believe"

"You say with a mustard seed of faith
That I can make a mountain move
But sometimes I am so afraid
Even though I know it’s true

Because my faith feels just like doubt
I don’t know what to pray right now

Oh, I believe
Please help my unbelief
Jesus, give me grace
To trust what I can’t see
Your ways are not my own
Some things I’ll never know
But You say, blessed are the ones who never see
They just believe

So now with a heart full of questions
I come to You just as I am
All my weakness, all my fears, all I’ve run from all these years
In the middle of my doubts, somehow still I’m finding out

I believe
Please help my unbelief
Jesus, give me grace
To trust what I can’t see
Your ways are not my own
Some things I’ll never know
But You say, blessed are the ones who never see
They just believe

Jesus, I believe
Help my unbelief

When my faith feels just like doubt

I believe, yeah
Oh, I believe"

The Bow on Top

2011-06-22T11:06:00.002-05:00

If you've been reading along lately, you know life has a been a bit crazy around FBC Russellville. So crazy that I've found it difficult summarizing events in this little space.

But, suffice it to say, Sunday was the end of a strange saga and a new beginning all at once. My family and I walked into church Sunday prepared to walk out and begin a new chapter wherever the Lord wanted to take us . . . and, instead, we walked out as the new Pastor of FBC Russellville.

We had 10 people baptized, 18 join the church, and many other things rattling around between the walls of the church. And there are still decisions being firmed up as we speak . . . God is still at work.

And, in our own hearts, it's still kind of hard to process everything that has occurred. As I've said repeatedly, I've lost the ability to summarize everything. And now I find myself as the Pastor of a church that I've loved and labored alongside for the past ten years. And I'm succeeding a man that I've long loved and admired, Stephen Davis, who pastored FBC Russellville for the previous 27 years.

It's the bow on top of the events of the past six months, let's put it that way. And all I know to do is to trust God with the future, buckle down, and get busy. Let's see what else He wants to do.

Along this way, God has kept a simple verse on my heart that frames my desire in ministry and my desire for FBC Russellville. Acts 5:20 says, "Go and stand in the temple and speak to the people all the words of this Life." Oh, how I long to do that, do in and do out for His glory!

Which leads me to my final "song of the day," so to speak. I've got to include a little Matthew West on this post, a song entitled, "The Reason for the World." It certainly seems to sum up my last six months.

The Reason for the World:
"There are no words in times like these
When tears don't hide the tragedies
And all you want is a reason for the world

No comfort in the greeting card
Cause God is good
But life's still hard
and your heart just wants a reason for the world

Maybe the reason for the pain
Is so we would pray for strength
And maybe the reason for the strength
Is so that we would not lose hope
And maybe the reason for all hope
Is so that we could face the world
And the reason for the world
Is to make us long for home

For God so loved your broken heart
He sent his son to where you are
and he died
To give a reason for the world

So lift your sorrows to the one
Whose plan for you has just begun
And rests here in the hands that hold the world

Maybe the reason for the pain
Is so we would pray for strength
And maybe the reason for the strength
Is so that we would not lose hope
And maybe the reason for all hope
Is so that we could face the world
And the reason for the world
Is to make us long for home

Well I know your past the point of broken
Surrounded by your fear
I know you're faint and tired and lonely
from the road that you walked down here
But just keep your eyes on heaven
and know that you are not alone
remember the reason for the world

No ear has heard
No eye has seen
Not even in your wildest dreams
A beauty that awaits beyond this world
When you look into the eyes of grace
and hear the voice of mercy say
Child, welcome to the reason for the world"

Beauty Will Rise

2011-06-16T08:47:00.004-05:00

It sounds like we're going to do church backwards Sunday, at least for a church like ours.

What do I mean? We'll, it's my understanding that we're going to start with the ending -- the invitation. God's work in our midst over the past two weeks has people lined up wanting to be baptized and join the church . . . we don't want to miss out on other decisions people may want to make, so the staff has decided to start things with an opportunity to respond.

As for me, God continues to work in my heart. More and more, I can sense Him challenging me to trust Him but also to live by His values. A lot has happened over the last few weeks, even months, and there have been crazy things said and done.

But now is not a time to live in the past. Now is not a time to second-guess anyone. Now is not a time to allow a root of bitterness to spring up between brothers.

Now is a time to forgive. To forget. To move forward. To extend grace and mercy to those who are hurting, even to those who are angry. And it begins with you and me, in the silence of our own hearts.

A verse which has long stuck in my heart keeps coming to the forefront this morning. It's Philippians 4:8 --

"Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things."

But another truth has continued to prevail upon my heart. Regardless of the outcome in this situation, our God can be trusted. He is faithful. He will be glorified, and He will be high and lifted up. And, in this regard, Joshua 21:45 has stuck in my heart:

"Not one of the good promises which the Lord had made to the house of Israel failed; all came to pass."

That's the kind of God we worship, and He can be trusted, even in the midst of the storm. It's a lesson musician Steven Curtis Chapman learned the hard way when his young daughter died in a tragic accident, and he wrote an album in the wake of that event that has ministered to many in the midst of their own personal tragedies and challenges.

One song from that album, particularly, has resonated with me over the past few days. Here are the lyrics from "Beauty Will Rise," which I certainly believe reflects God's promise to His children.

"Beauty Will Rise"

"It was the day the world went wrong
I screamed til my voice was gone
And watched through the tears as everything
Came crashing down

Slowly panic turns to pain
As we awake to what remains
And sift through the ashes
That are left behind

But buried deep beneath
All our broken dreams we have this hope

Out of these ashes beauty will rise
And we will dance among the ruins
We will see it with our own eyes
Out of these ashes beauty will rise
For we know joy is coming in the morning
In the morning, beauty will rise

So take another breath for now
And let the tears come washing down
And if you can't believe, I will believe for you

Cause I have seen the signs of spring
Just watch and see

Out of these ashes beauty will rise
And we will dance among the ruins
We will see it with our own eyes
Out of these ashes beauty will rise
For we know joy is coming in the morning
In the morning

I can hear it in the distance
And it's not too far away
It's the music and the laughter
Of a wedding and a feast
I can almost feel the hand of God
Reaching for my face to wipe the tears away
You say it's time to make everything new
Make it all new

This is our hope
This is a promise
This is our hope
This is a promise

It will take our breath away
To see the beauty that's been made
Out of the ashes, out of the ashes

It will take our breath away
To see the beauty that He's made
Out of the ashes, out of the ashes

Out of these ashes
Beauty will rise
And we will dance among the ruins
We will see it with our own eyes
Out of this darkness
New light will shine
And we'll know the joy that's coming in the morning
In the morning
Beauty will rise

Oh, beauty will rise
Oh, oh, oh, beauty will rise
Oh, oh, oh, beauty will rise
Oh, oh, oh, beauty will rise

Editor's Note: I have recommended this album, "Beauty Will Rise," to many in times of pain and heartache. The entire record seems infused with the love and sustaining grace of our glorious God. If you would like to hear this song in a raw, uncut form, check out this video link by clicking here.

Everything Sad Is Coming Untrue

2011-06-15T08:41:00.003-05:00

Would you believe that we've now got adults wanting to be baptized and join the church who have been wrestling with these decisions for years?

Friends, it's an amazing time and God is still doing a beautiful work in the hearts of His people. Where it goes next, I can only guess. But it has been a fun ride.

I've heard from so many of you that, one way or the other, God has used this situation to break you out of the doldrums, to challenge you to pray for your church and your family, to really seek to place an emphasis on spiritual things.

That is a beautiful thing, friends. And it reminds me of the words of Job in the Job 16:12, "I was at ease and He shattered me."

We'll never understand why all of this happened the way it has, but our joy now should be drawn from the knowledge that He really does work all things out for His glory and the good of His children. He is doing a special work in the heart of His church.

Also, I personally feel like this is a good time to take a step back and thank everyone who has walked through this storm and been such beautiful representatives of the love of God. Our church's Ministerial Staff Search Committee has been put in an incredibly difficult position, dealing with circumstances way beyond their control, and they have done an extraordinary job.

The same can be said for our entire deacon body and the average member in the pew -- everyone has sought to hear from the Lord, to rest in Him, to wait on Him, to honor Him. It's a beautiful thing to see, and I know the Lord is honored.

Regardless of the final outcome in this situation, I know God has done a beautiful work in so many hearts, and it reminds me yet again of a verse that has really challenged me during this time.

Psalm 133:1 -- "Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brothers to dwell together in unity!"

And, on this subject of joy and renewal, I'm drawn to the words of another of my favorite songs from Jason Gray. It's actually called, "Everything Sad is Coming Untrue, Part 2," and that's a story for another time. But here are the lyrics that have sustained me over the past few weeks.

"Everything Sad Is Coming Untrue, Part 2":

"You had to have that hard conversation
Where nothing hurts quite like the truth
And now you wonder what she's thinking
Who she sees when she looks at you
How could it be everything sad is coming untrue?

Another nail in another coffin
Arms that held you return to dust
Yet in our grief we know death must be a liar
For no goodbye is ever good enough
How could it be everything sad is coming untrue?

Every father helpless and angry
Every mother with her heart on the shelf
Every daughter whose innocence was stolen
By every son who couldn't help himself
The winter can make us wonder
If spring was ever true
But every winter breaks upon
The Easter lily's bloom

Could it be everything sad is coming untrue?
Could you believe everything sad is coming untrue?
Broken hearts are being unbroken
Bitter words are being unspoken
The curse undone, the veil is parted
The garden gate will be left unguarded

Could it be everything sad is coming untrue?
Oh I believe everything sad is coming untrue
In the hands of the One who is making all things new
When the storm leaves there's a silence
That says you don't have to fear anymore
The trees look greener, the sky's an ocean
The world is washed and starting over

Everything sad is coming untrue . . ."

Burn the Ships

2011-06-14T08:06:00.002-05:00

Here I go again, attempting to put into words an experience that defies explanation.

Yesterday was an extraordinary day. A day filled with brokenness, healing, confession, restoration, unity, love, and fellowship. I cannot adequately put into words everything that is happening in my heart, in the heart of others, and in the heart of our church.

But the stories are all over the map. It's no longer about a vote. It has jumped the pews and left the walls of the church. It's no longer about one particular set of circumstances. Suddenly, God's Spirit is putting His finger on issues in people's hearts that are completed unrelated to how this whole thing started -- God is moving and we just need to stay out of His way, friends!

I have seen incredible brokenness over sin. I have seen people literally trembling under the weight of conviction. And then I've seen them move into freedom, or I've heard the story from someone else about how they broke, asked for forgiveness, and began to live again in the joy of the Lord.

My encouragement to everyone reading this blog is to listen to God. Let Him do His work. And respond when you feel the prick of conviction . . . whatever it is. The only thing that will prevent God's Spirit from finishing this work seems to be our own pride.

We can't live in the past. We can't be trapped into refusing to get things right because we're fearful how man will react, what others will think, or what we think it will cost us. We can't continue to live in our arrogance, pride, and selfishness, thinking we've got it all figured out. It's time to let all the walls come down, friends.

And, as I've done lately, I want to share another passage of Scripture that has challenged me through the midst of this storm. It's a passage I pray every day for my own heart and my own family . . . it has so much to say to us.

Colossians 1:9-12 says, "For this reason also, since the day we heard of it, we have not ceased to pray for you and to ask that you may be filled with the knowledge of His will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so that you will walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, to please Him in all respects, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God; strengthened with all power, according to His glorious might, for the attaining of all steadfastness and patience; joyously giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified us to share in the inheritance of the saints in Light."

And the song I'd like to share today goes all the way back to the year I surrendered to the ministry. It's from Steven Curtis Chapman, and it has also rang in my ears over and over again during the last few weeks. The point of the song is that there's no turning back, no retreat if we're truly willing to move forward with God -- may that be the attitude of our hearts.

"Burn the Ships":

"In the spring of 1519 a Spanish fleet set sail
Cortez told his sailors this mission must not fail
On the eastern shore of Mexico they landed with great dreams
But the hardships of the new world make them restless and weak
Quietly they whispered "Let's sail back to the life we knew"
But the one who led them there was saying

CHORUS
Burn the ships we're here to stay
There's no way we could go back
Now that we've come this far by faith
Burn the ships we've passed the point of no return
Our life is here
So let the ships burn

In the spring of new beginnings a searching heart set sail
Looking for a new life and a love that would not fail
On the shores of grace and mercy we landed with great joy
But an enemy was waiting to steal kill and destroy

Quietly he whispers "Go back to the life you know"
But the one who led us here is saying

Burn the ships we're here to stay
There's no way we could go back
Now that we've come this far by faith
Burn the ships we've passed the point of no return
Our life is here
So let the ships burn

Nobody said it would be easy
But the one who brought us here
Is never gonna leave us alone"

Editor's Note: I have actually blogged about this subject, to some degree, in a blog entitled, "The Great Reversal." It speaks of what happens when our circumstances are suddenly turned on their head and we're left in a "burn the ships" kind of moment. In many ways, I believe God was preparing me in advance for the events of the past few weeks . . . wish I had listened better! If you're curious, check it out by clicking here.

In the Night My Hope Lives On

2011-06-13T08:06:00.002-05:00

As many of you are learning, especially those of you that live in Russellville, the last few months have been a strange journey for me. I lack the words to adequately express everything that has happened.

First of all, and most importantly, God is doing something extraordinary in the hearts of His people. There are things happening that defy common sense that can only be attributed to the move of His Spirit. And I would ask you to please continue to pray -- pray desperately, fervently, with fear and trembling. I don't believe this work is done, but I also don't believe the enemy is finished trying to thwart it.

But, if His people will pray and remain on our knees, I believe there is even more God wants to do. And it will also be necessary for us to love our brothers and sisters, to walk in unity, to show grace, mercy, and love to those who have -- or even false perception says -- have hurt us. And may we love the lost of our community and pray desperately that they would come to know Christ. So, let's continue to go before the Lord in prayer and brokenness and see what else He requires of us.

On a personal level, I have, at various times, been humbled, broken, attacked, blessed, wounded, encouraged, sustained, defeated, and everything else in between. Again, I really can't express all that has happened.

But God is faithful, and He is doing something amazing in my heart. I am humbled beyond understanding that He is also at work in the life of my church at the same time. Just in case anyone has any doubts, please hear me clearly: I have no clue what is happening. I have no part in any strategy or plan to bring this about. I know there are plenty of things in my heart that could quench revival . . . so I'm totally at a loss at the mysterious work of God.

I am a flawed, frightened, frail man who is just in awe at what God is doing and I so deeply desire for Him to receive all of the glory. So I need to continue to stay out of His way, and I promise to do so to the best of my limited ability.

As I said in my previous blog, I would like to share with you some of the verses and songs God is using to sustain me at this crazy time. Psalm 131 has really stuck in my heart lately and pray it is always true of me:

"O Lord, my heart is not proud, nor my eyes haughty; nor do I involve myself in great matters, or in things too difficult for me. Surely I have composed and quieted my soul; like a weaned child rests against his mother, my soul is like a weaned child within me. O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time forth and forever."

And, early Sunday morning, when I felt a burden impossible to put into words that led me to a place of what I hope is complete brokenness before the Lord (if it's not complete, I'm not sure I'm prepared for the next step), the following song by Andrew Peterson led me into the presence of God and just kept me broken -- but profoundly hopeful -- before Him. Perhaps it will speak to you, as well.

But, let me add this: while I was with the Lord, letting the words of this song wash over my heart, I did not know that God also had an army of prayer warriors up at 4 a.m. in the night, praying for me, our church, and for God's glory. Our God is so much greater than we can ever imagine, friends. We can trust Him, even in the night!

So, without further ado, here is: "In the Night, My Hope Lives On:"

"I am weary with the pain of Jacob's wrestling
In the darkness with the Fear, in the darkness with the Fear
But he met the morning wounded with a blessing
So in the night my hope lives on

When Elisha woke surrounded by the forces
Of the enemies of God, the enemies of God
He saw the hills aflame with angels on their horses
So in the night my hope lives on

I see the slave that toils beneath the yoke unyielding
And I can hear the captive groan, hear the captive groan
For some hand to stay the whip his foe is wielding
Still in the night my hope lives on

I see the armies of the enemy approaching
And the people driven, trembling, to the shore
But a doorway through the waters now is opening
So in the night my hope lives on

Like the son who thought he'd gone beyond forgiveness,
Too ashamed to lift his head--but if he could lift his head
He would see his father running from a distance
In the night my hope lives on

I can see the crowd of men retreating
As he stands between the woman and their stones
And if mercy in his holy heart is beating
Then in the night my hope lives on

I remember how they scorned the son of Mary
He was gentle as a lamb, gentle as a lamb
He was beaten, he was crucified, and buried
And in the night, my hope was gone

But the rulers of earth could not control Him
They did not take his life -- he laid it down
All the chains of earth could never hope to hold him
So in the night my hope lives on."

A Song in My Heart

2011-06-11T09:29:00.002-05:00

Let's just say there are a million and one things I could write about right now. The better you know me, the more rabbits you know I could chase. But I'm not ready to go there yet -- I currently lack the ability to be pithy or make sense of all that God is doing in my life, in my heart, in my family, in my church, even in my city.

So let's keep it simple today. I just want to share a few verses and a song lyric or two that God has used in my heart to challenge and encourage me.

In terms of Scripture, here are the ones that have really just upheld me and sustained me:

Galatians 2:20 -- "I have been crucified with Christ and it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me. And the life which I know live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave Himself up for me."

Luke 9:62 -- "No man, after putting his hand to the plow and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God."

Acts 5:20 -- "Go, stand and speak to the people in the temple all the words of this Life."

Acts 4:19-20 == "Whether it be right in the sight of God to give heed to you rather than God, you be the judge; for we cannot stop speaking what we have seen and heard."

There are many others, but those are probably the ones that have resonated in my heart the most right now, for whatever reason. And, as for songs, there are several. If you've read this blog at all, you know that God ministers in my heart greatly through music, and this has certainly been true lately.

I'll probably share other songs through the coming days, but I'll just mention one today. Jason Gray has a song entitled, "When the Stars Fall From the Sky" that has been my constant companion for months. My children now sing it and we praise the Lord together through it. I wish I had a video link to it I could share, but it's a little obscure. But here are the lyrics:

"When the Stars Fall from the Sky:"
"When the stars fall from your sky
And you're lost inside the darkest night
And waiting's all that's left to do
For the dawn to break inside of you
Take it to the healing hands
Take it to the one who builds the mountains
Take it to the one who stirs the ocean tides
Take it to your Father's heart
Broken by the burden that you carry
And he will take you to the other side
When you’re tired of holding on to hope
But scared to death of letting go
When there's no burden like the truth
And faith hurts like an open wound
CHORUS
Time and time again I have traveled down this winding road
Surprised at every turn to find I am not alone
When I take it to the healing hands
Take it to the one who builds the mountains
Take it to the one who stirs the ocean tides
When I take it to my Father's heart
Broken with the burden that I carry
He takes me by the hand to the other side
He will take us all to the other side
When you think your well's run dry
And you send it down for one last try
And you raise it up to find it full
The overflow's so beautiful."

God bless you, friends. God truly is good, all the time!

A New Catch-Phrase

2011-05-26T14:36:00.002-05:00

Over the past few months, I've probably fielded more questions about by philosophy of ministry and how I believe church should work than ever before. It's a long story (which I'll share with you sometime), but let's just leave it at this: I've learned a lot.

But, just last night, I was asked a fascinating question in a meeting at our church. I was asked (paraphrasing to the best of my memory): "If you were to pastor a church for five years, what would be different about the church after that time? What kind of imprint would you put on a congregation?"

That's a great question. And there are a million ways to direct an answer. But, at the time, I can honestly say that I felt God was whispering a clear answer directly into my heart (I don't hear audible voices, friends, so that's as best as I can describe it).

It wasn't an answer about programs, because I don't believe in the latest, greatest program. It wasn't an answer about methodology, or trends, or ministerial tricks because, again, I don't place much faith in those things.

I understand that the best thing I can do is to rely on the power of God and try to minimize my own annoying, prideful tendency to get in His way. But that's not a very pithy answer, so, inexplicably, this phrase popped into my head:

"I want to be annoyingly Biblical."

There are a lot of things in ministry I can't control, but there's one thing I'm determined to do -- keep coming back to the Scripture as the one, clearly defined standard in my life.

Please know I don't want to minimize the role of the Holy Spirit, but I feel confident the Spirit is unleashed best when we remain the closest to the Word of God. And, if we're trying to be surrendered to the Spirit while remaining steadfast in the Word, well . . . all the better.

I'd love to be in leadership in a church long enough for people to grow tired of my patented answer, "Well, what does God's Word say about that?" Or, "Can you find that in the Bible?"

Let's check our church budget. If it's not Biblical, let's toss it. Let's check our preaching. If it's not Biblical, let's toss it. Let's check our church structure, our methodology, our direction. If it's not Biblical, let's toss it.

That's what I mean about being "annoyingly Biblical." Of course, I'm a bit of realist -- in 21st Century America, being "annoyingly Biblical" can get you fired. It can place you on the margins of ministry. It can get you labeled in some unpleasant ways.

But, at the end of the day, I'm confident that being "annoyingly Biblical" is also very glorifying to God. And if I can please Him, then I'm prepared for whatever may come.

Anybody want to join me in being "annoyingly Biblical?"

In Remembrance

2011-05-21T11:10:00.002-05:00

Life has been relatively busy lately, and I have to confess that I feel like I'm neglecting this blog. And I don't want to do that -- I've enjoyed the bit of an on-going conversation I feel like I've been able to have with so many of you regarding spiritual matters through this forum.

So, today, forgive me if a I practice a little predictable media technique -- the recycling of old material. Since this blog went public in 2008, one blog has received over twice as many hits as any other.

At the time, it was an innocent little blog meant to preface a sermon series at our church. But, apparently, something within the blog clicked . . . because it has continued to be read week in and week out, even long after the sermon series was over.

The blog was entitled, "Better Than Common Sense," and it used the WWII heroism of a gentlemen named Ronald Speirs to spotlight the difference between Biblical wisdom and the vastly inferior common sense with which man could counter. Now, it stands as a marker for the kind of leadership I'd like to bring to my family, my church, and all of life. Today, in honor of next weekend's Memorial Day observance, I'd like to repost "Better Than Common Sense" for those who have yet to read it.

But, also, I want this to be my public thank you for those of the so-called "Greatest Generation" who sacrificed so much for our nation. In the months after I first posted the blog about Lt. Speirs, I learned he passed away in 2007. So, partially in thanks to Speirs and his companions in WWII, I give you again: "Better Than Common Sense."

Over the last few weeks, we've been doing a sermon series at our church called "Band of Brothers." This Sunday, I get to conclude the series and I'm going to get to use my favorite clip from the entire movie series.

In that clip (a true story, by the way), Lt. Ronald Speirs runs through a German-held town to help two disconnected American units communicate with one another. By coordinating the two units' actions, the Americans win the battle . . . but it only happened because Lt. Speirs took matters in his own hands and did the ridiculous -- on foot, he ran among German tanks, German machine gun nests, and German soldiers -- all to complete the task he had been given.

It wasn't common sense that drove him, because what he did was absolutely foolish. It wasn't heroism that drove him, because he certainly never took the time to consider how brave and reckless his actions might look to others.

Ultimately, it was self-sacrifice that drove him. Before he ever entered the war, he had considered himself dead. He was ready to die in service to his country, and he was no longer concerned with his fate. So, when presented with an opportunity to swing the outcome of a critical battle with a reckless act of self-sacrifice, he never hesitated.

It wasn't common sense, it was the ultimate in self-sacrifice. And it won the day.

It is this same sense of self-sacrifice, even "revelation sense" you could say, that God asks us to have as Christians. We aren't supposed to evaluate every action through the lens of common sense as an engineer would be inclined to do . . . we are supposed to hear the command of the Lord and react.

Yes, we can count the cost, but the cost shouldn't prevent our obedience. Take, for instance, something as simple as the tithe . . . to common sense, the tithe is ridiculous. But, to revelation sense, the tithe is a fantastic deal: God gives us everything we have, allows us to give some of it back to Him, promises to bless us with meeting all of our needs in return and He stores up treasures in heaven for us as we do so . . . what a deal!

No bank will every loan you money and then give you interest back when you return it, all while giving you a return on an even more valuable asset at the same time. It's not common sense, friends. It's revelation sense . . . and it should be the way we live as Christians all the time.

A Real Hero

2011-05-10T20:11:00.003-05:00

Over the weekend, I finally had a chance to watch what I consider to be John Wayne's finest film with my boys. I had purposefully waited until I thought they were old enough to absorb all of the life lessons in "The Cowboys."

I know some of you are John Wayne skeptics. I know what you are thinking -- he's just a cult hero. A big man with a cowboy hat, two guns and two fists that plowed through life shooting his way out of trouble and saving the day.

And my boys have seen that, certainly. We've watched most of his WWII movies together, and we've enjoyed seeing him save the day and lead the "good guys" to victory.

But I knew "The Cowboys" was special. I knew for a long time that it was the first of his Westerns I wanted them to really sit down and watch. If you'll give me a moment, I'll explain why.

I understand the "cartoonish" feel a lot of people accuse John Wayne's Westerns of having. He always survives. He always wins. He's the perfect hero . . . and there's a lot of realism missing.

But that's not the way "The Cowboys" works. If you aren't familiar with the story, let me bring you up to speed: John Wayne's character has a herd of cattle he needs to get to the market, but all of his cattle hands leave town chasing a gold rush. So, out of desperation, he turns to the town's youngsters, literally teaching a collection of kids from about ten-years-old to about sixteen how to wrangle cattle.

The kids learn lots of life lesson from Wayne's character, not all of them wholesome, to be honest. Wayne's character is a little rough, a little foul-mouthed, and a lot world-wise, but he's good for the immature, overly sheltered young men.

And then the bad guys show up . . . evil men intent on stealing the herd, even if they have to kill Wayne and the boys to do it. Instinctively, Wayne's character knows what needs to happen -- he has to become the focal point of the conflict so that the young men will be spared.

To make a great movie simple, he sacrifices his own life to spare the lives of the boys. It's a powerful, brutal portion of the film, and it devastated my boys.

They kept asking, "How can he die? He never dies in his movies!" And then they started with the, "This isn't fair. It's not right! I don't want to watch this anymore."

Yet it was all the perfect setup to make me like wise and spiritual because I gently told them to keep watching. Like Christ, Wayne's character sacrificed himself to save the boys . . . and, in that sacrifice, those young men learned more about being a hero than they ever could have had Wayne survived.

They learned that real men die to protect those they love. They learned that the strong don't always survive . . . but they always die for a good cause. And they learned that a good man's death (i.e. Christ) actually has the power to make the lives of others' better.

It happens in the movie -- the boys turn to their aged cook, hatch a great plan, and actually defeat the bandits and finish the cattle drive. As they had learned from Wayne's character, a man always finishes the job and does what's right . . . and his sacrificial death graphically displayed how far he was willing to take that code.

My two little guys were both humbled and awed by the end of the movie, and they practically cried when the "cowboys" finished the drive and said goodbye to their fallen mentor.

It's a classic film and a classic lesson. And it's a beautiful picture of the Christian life -- we, too, will never really live unless we are willing to die like our Savior.

Consider it a lesson relearned from John Wayne.

A Guest Blog on Angels

2011-05-07T16:43:00.003-05:00

(Editor's Note: Life has been busy lately, so I haven't had a chance to crank out another blog. But the following is a great piece by my friend, Rick Smith, who also maintains a weekly blog linked to his Sunday School lesson. I think you'll enjoy the Biblical perspective he brings to angels in this piece. And, if you like his work, feel free to follow the links to his "Templates of Truth" each week).

People seem always to be fascinated with the thrill of sensation. If that thrill can come in the form of spiritual sensation, it is even more gratifying. Many today are compulsively drawn to the emotional high of mystical experience and the reality of angels tends to fall into that category. What does the Bible teach about angelic presence? We turn our thoughts to this curious and revealing subject in this week's Templates of Truth.

One of the issues that Paul dealt with in his letter to the church at Colossae is one that is still prevalent today – Let no one keep defrauding you…by delighting in…the worship of angels (Colossians 2:18a). The believers at Colossae were being courted by false teachers who sought to lure them into supernatural, mystical experiences that heightened their spiritual awareness and provided them a sense of spiritual superiority. Putting confident authority in dreams & visions, and passionately pursuing the presence & power of angels were among those things Paul identified as originating from a fleshly mind and are a manifestation of fleshly indulgence (Colossians 2:18b, 23b). It has always been the ploy of Satan to keep our minds focused on the ecstatic and sensational because it distracts us from investing our attention toward solid Biblical doctrine.

No serious student of the Bible would question the reality and activity of divine angels. The thing we often fail to remember is that Satan disguises himself as an angel of light (II Corinthians 11:14). Many cults and religions today lead their followers to love, pray to, worship and call upon their “guardian angel” for health, wealth, protection, guidance and deliverance, using Scriptural references to angelic activity to justify their teachings and belief. How do you know if the angelic presence in your life is of heavenly or demonic origin? Just because it looks Biblical, divine, holy and religiously sanctioned doesn’t necessarily guarantee it is not satanic! The devil’s disguises can be dramatically convincing. To discern the difference, consider these truths:

First, an angel of God will always acknowledge and point to Jesus as being the Christ, the Son of the living God – every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God; and every spirit that does not confess Jesus is not from God, and that is the spirit of the antichrist (I John 4:2-3). Any message or messenger that downplays or denies the authority of Jesus Christ as the second person in the Godhead, is not one sent from God. Only a demonic spirit would question the deity of Christ.

Second, an angel of God will never accept worship from anyone, but will always direct worship, adoration and appeal toward God. Twice in his Revelation vision, John fell in worship at the feet of an angle, and both times suffered the angel’s rebuke – do not do that…worship God! For the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy (Revelation 19:10, 22:9). The word of God never instructs the believer to love, worship or pray to an angel. It does tell us to love, worship, and pray to God, for God declares, I will never share my glory with another (Isaiah 42:8).

Third, an angel of God does not show up as the result of a chant or invocation. Angels only act at the will and command of God. Luke specified in his Gospel – the angel Gabriel was sent from God (Luke 1:26). It is amazing how many true believers today are lured into false teaching by books written with detailed instructions on how to contact their guardian angel. The Bible has never established a criteria or precedence for contacting angels. Even on the cross, Jesus acknowledged this authority as being that only of the Father – do you not think that I cannot appeal to My Father, and He will at once put at My disposal more than twelve legions of angels? (Matthew 26:53). God’s angels do not answer when you call. They respond only to God. If anyone claims of such a successful contact, it is undoubtedly a demonic being, disguising itself as an angel of God, no matter what miraculous good came from it.

Finally, an angel of God will never provide instruction or guidance that deviates in any way from the Word of God – the Bible. Paul declared – (if) an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to that which we have preached to you, let him be accursed (Galatians 1:8). When a person senses an angelic message that contradicts the truth & teaching of Scripture, it is not a holy angel of God, it is a demon from hell! Satan often quotes Scripture, but it is always slightly varied, distorted and taken out of context for purposes to deceive. Only a believer who studies enough to allow the Word of God to dwell richly within him will be able to discern the difference.

To put all of this into a more proper perspective, what would you rather have – the wisdom, guidance & protection of an angel, or the wisdom, guidance & protection of God? Heavenly angels are neither omnipresent, omniscient nor omnipotent, but God is. If it serves His will and purpose to send His messenger to you in some way that is a sovereign act of God. However, through the indwelling presence of His angel – the Holy Spirit – we already have the full power & authority of God working in us, through us and for us. When you have that, why do you think you must also, of necessity, need an angel?

Bible Teacher Rick Smith
Templates of Truth
Check out the Templates here

Parenting Success

2011-04-28T16:06:00.002-05:00

Every once and a while -- in between gaffs, goofs, and gasps -- something happens and you actually have a moment with your children where all is right with the world.

You know, kind of like in A Christmas Story where Randy is curled up asleep on the floor with his Zeppelin, Ralphie is no longer wearing the bunny suit, and the snow is falling softly in the light of the street lamp, bringing a close to a crazy, but strangely perfect Christmas. Mr. and Mrs. Parker share fatigued glances and celebrate the unusual moment.

For parents, those moments are often few and far between, but they do happen. And, believe it or not, I experienced one this past week.

For quite a while, my boys had been wanting to watching the new Tron movie from Disney. I wasn't too enthused just because I knew the storyline was pretty convoluted -- you know, a computer-generated world that swallows a young man's father is a little difficult to explain to a seven-year-old. Goodness, it kind of requires me to suspend my intelligence, as well.

But, finally, some friends loaned us the movie and my boys got to watch Tron: Legacy. It was loud, fairly exciting, and the graphics were amazing. The storyline was a little threadbare -- okay, it seemed stitched together with duct tape -- but they enjoyed it.

And, then, at the end, my eight-year-old turns to me and offers this nugget: "Like when Aslan dies in the Narnia movie, I could kind of see what Jesus did for us in how the daddy in Tron died for his son."

Whoa, friends. That's like a parenting/worldview home-run, right there. My son just turned Tron: Legacy into a teachable moment and, if you've seen the movie, that ain't easy!

Yet, my son's reaction was proof positive that my efforts to help my children look for the little currents and nods of the head to our Creator God in everything -- in music, in movies, in books, even in sports -- is working. For just a moment, my eight-year-old had obliterated the barrier between the secular and the sacred and I was smiling ear to ear.

He understands that our sacrifices for those we love just provide a dim reflection of the greater sacrifice Christ provided for us on the Cross. He sees it in Aslan. He sees it in Kevin Flynn (Tron: Legacy) and he even sees it in the lives of the men who stormed the beaches at Normandy.

And he's beginning to see it in his own little chest. May his story -- his life -- reflect THE STORY. We're not there yet, friends, but we're taking more than baby steps, and his words brought a thrill to my heart.

Plus, I'm now reassured that if I'm ever sucked into an alternative universe controlled by a computer-generated doppleganger, my son will attempt to come to my rescue. Good to know, huh?

Big Words

2011-04-25T19:24:00.003-05:00

Since the soundtrack of all of our lives has become driving rain, lightning, wind, and tornado sirens lately, I felt like I needed to change the tone just a bit. So I want to use a few big, distracting words in this blog.

You know, big words like exegesis and eisegesis. They are the kind of words that mean little to us but actually have a lot to say.

As Francis Chan likes to point out, one of the first things seminary students should learn is the difference between those two words I just mentioned. Exegesis is "an attempt to discover the meaning of a text objectively, starting with the text and moving out from there." Conversely, eisegesis is "to import a subjective, preconceived meaning into the text."

Believe it or not, we apply these two words in our study of the Bible all of the time. We either practice exegesis or eisegesis each time we pick up the Word of God, and it's critical that we use the right methodology.

We live in world full of folks who want to use eisegesis as they study the Bible. There's no interest in honestly determining the truth of the Word of God -- the Bible becomes simply a proof text that we pick and choose from to justify beliefs that we've already decided to hold.

With selective reading and a grand ability to lift things out of context, you can make the Bible say just about anything you want it to say . . . which is what most of us do. The Bible loses its role as a standard of truth -- it becomes an object used to justify our behavior, a set of data used to construct personal arguments, or just an old book that we rifle through in our spare time.

But the Bible is supposed to be studied via exegesis, meaning -- as you've probably heard it said -- context is king. The Bible is not just the end of the argument, but it is the beginning and middle, as well. We should approach God's Word with sincerity and openness and allow it to fall open to our study and see what it says, free from misconceptions, preconceptions, and any other issues that prevent us from seeing it for what it really is.

This is easy to say, but hard to do. It requires time, energy, commitment, and a willingness to die to personal opinions and preferences while yielding to the supremacy of God and His Word.

Ultimately, there's something within each of us that resists letting God get in the first word . . . even in good Bible study, we must decrease that He might increase.

Of course, this doesn't mean that God's Word doesn't apply to our lives. It doesn't mean that we can't turn to it to help us during difficult times or to seek out passages that encourage, strengthen, or direct us . . . that's part of what God's Word is intended to provide.

But, most importantly, God's Word is intended to help us live exegetically -- if we were actually to start with Scripture and allow it to dictate to us how we live, what we believe, what we practice . . . what would our lives look like then?

The Rest of the Story

2011-04-23T09:32:00.002-05:00

It's a natural trap that the things we celebrate every year can easily become mere rites of passage that fall into convenient stereotypes. That, of course, doesn't demean their value . . . but it causes them to lose depth to some degree.

Easter is a great example. Essentially, Easter is about the Cross, and Resurrection, and new life. We all agree on that, I presume. But that's keeping it pretty simple, isn't it?

If we really look into the mighty work of Christ on the Cross, He did not simply come that our sins could be forgiven . . . He came to offer us the exchanged life -- the abundant life in Christ. He came to change us from the inside out, but sometimes our simple, well-intentioned stereotypes of Easter leave out this greater work.

I know some of you rolled your eyes when I started talking with excitement last week about the upcoming film about The Hobbit. You just don't get why Christians should care about some obscure, curious science fantasy novel written many years ago -- and you certainly can't see how it applies to this discussion of how Easter's deeper meanings can be forgotten beneath broad stereotypes.

But it's pertinent. It's part of the beauty of Tolkien's work that his novel is, essentially, a reminder that our lives are about a much bigger story than what we could ever imagine . .. just like what happens in our hearts when we accept the incredible sacrifice Christ made on the Cross. Let me explain.

In The Hobbit, little Bilbo Baggins has everything a hobbit needs to be content by a hobbit's standards. He has a nice, warm hobbit hole. He has friends. He has family. He has plenty of good food and drink. He is perfectly content and happy. But, in an incredible turn of events, he is swept away from his ideal existence and into a story that is so much bigger than himself -- he becomes a part of an ancient conflict that quite literally holds the fate of all Middle Earth in its timeless hands.

As he discovers the truth of his new existence, he changes. He becomes emboldened. He becomes more alive, more humorous, more emotional than ever before -- the grand journey transforms him into a radically different, and better, individual than ever before.

And, friends, that's the deeper Easter message. Jesus didn't just come to die so that we might have our sins forgiven -- He came that we might truly live. He came to transform us, to make us new creatures, to take away the old and supplant it with the new.

But when we simply leave Easter at rest with the stereotypes -- the nails, the Cross, the empty tomb -- however accurate they are, we're often guilty of stripping it of its greater meaning.

When I read The Hobbit, I sense God's Spirit in me reminding me that I, too, have been created to be swept away in a grand, life-changing journey that will take me beyond all that I have every known -- all of life's predictable stereotypes that we tend to settle for because they are so comfortable -- and into a realm of breath-taking challenges, conflicts, and victories.

All of our journeys do not end at the moment we accept Christ's sacrifice on the Cross -- they have only just begun. May we be swept away like little Bilbo Baggins and transformed into new creations.

That, my friends, is the story the world is meant to read in each of lives as children of God. I pray this truth will be written plainly across the pages of our lives.

Let Them Eat Cake

2011-04-18T19:53:00.002-05:00

I must begin this blog with a disclaimer: if you love puppies, kittens, sleeping babies, and other such irresistibly sweet critters, you probably should stop reading now. In the following paragraphs, I will discuss cake and my inherent nature to distrust all things cute and cuddly.

Seriously.

Enough of the warning . . . on to the cake. I would like to talk about a very popular book right now, Heaven is For Real, by Todd Burpo. In the book, Burpo recounts the supposedly true story of his four-year-old son's trip to heaven and back during a near-death experience in the operating room.

Friends, if you've read this blog for anytime at all, I know your snarcasm alert went off the moment I used the word "supposedly" to preface the phrase "true story." And just like I get defensive and skeptical the moment I see one of my children holding a new puppy (how dare anyone tempt my children with the sweetness of a puppy!), I have grown accustomed to feeling the same way when I hear about a book telling the story of a near-death experience or a journey to heaven and back.

But, let me be honest and fair about this book before I reveal my traditional skeptical nature. First, the book is sweet. Second, its tone is gentle and fair-minded. Third, it's not full of crazy talk . . . it's relatively well-balanced, it doesn't obviously clash with the truth of Scripture, and I sincerely believe Todd Burpo believes his son's experience was a sincere one.

Whew . . . that was hard. But I want to be fair -- you don't have to burn your copy of Heaven is For Real or place Burpo's name alongside the growing list of modern-day heretics. I think it's safe coffeehouse reading. In fact, I think it's like cake.

That's right -- you heard me right. It's like cake. And, today, I say let them eat cake.

But let me be honest about cake. Cake, while it tastes good, is not a staple food group. It doesn't nourish your bones and your flesh. It doesn't make you grow stronger, and it doesn't always satisfy . . . in fact, sometimes it adds a pound or two where you don't want them.

And so it is with Heaven is For Real. Maybe you're in the mood for some cake -- something sweet, like a little puppy, that you can digest easily and that will put a smile on your face and make you think grand thoughts about heaven.

Just know, though, that God's Word -- not a seven-year-old experience by a four-year-old child (at the time of the event in the book) -- has the last word about heaven. While you're licking the icing, you might turn to I Thessalonians 4-5, II Corinthians, and even the book of Revelation to see what God has to say about heaven.

It's curious that the Apostle Paul went to heaven but said he couldn't tell us about it -- our minds couldn't process what he wanted to relate . . . there were things we just weren't meant to know. Lazarus certainly went to heaven and came back, and he didn't write a book and zoom up the bestseller list. Jesus Himself didn't reveal heaven in the kind of detail with which Burpo's four-year-old dives in.

It's also curious to me that there have been three books on near-death trips to heaven and back on the New York Times bestseller list in the last few years. The cynic in me would say Burpo's child time his little expedition well.

But I need to reign my inner cynic in because I don't want to characterize Burpo's book unfairly. It honestly didn't make my radar for deception go up. I didn't find any really obvious clashes with Scripture.

But it's just like cake. Or puppies. Or sleeping babies. It kind of makes you "ooh" and "aah," and you may need to "ooh" and "aah" right now. And that's okay.

But, if you want some meat, I'd suggest you turn to the Scripture as your sole source of authority when it comes to heaven. And, if you're really wanting to dig more deeply into the truth of Scripture and a study of heaven, I'd suggest two books with real meat . . . Randy Alcorn's Heaven and Erwin Lutzer's One Minute After You Die.

You can eat cake, but I wouldn't suggest you make a steady diet of it. Next thing you know, you might be swallowing some of the cake Rob Bell is serving up about Hell and mistaking it for steak.

The Journey Begins

2011-04-14T15:18:00.003-05:00

As inappropriate as it may seem to make this announcement on the same day that TV's "All My Children" and "One Life To Live" have been canceled, I can't refrain from letting you know that the production on Peter Jackson's film version of The Hobbit has begun in earnest.

In fact, Jackson has posted a ten-minute video online detailing some of the early work on the film, and it will certainly whet the appetite of any typical Tolkien fan. You can check it out here.

Don't ask me why I had to take a shot at daytime soaps in the opening of this blog. Perhaps it's the little child in me, attempting to make myself feel better by picking on someone else. Yes, I know I'm a bit of a geek who has an eccentric obsession for all things Tolkien . . . so I feel better about myself while laughing at those who are enthralled by the most predictable, cheesy writing on television.

I'd love to defend my J.R.R. Tolkien obsession by waxing eloquent about the Inklings (Tolkien's Christian community of writers -- including C.S. Lewis -- who met regularly to discuss their fiction and non-fiction works), or by describing how Tolkien eventually converted avowed atheist C.S. Lewis to Christ, or even by describing Tolkien's brilliant ability to symbolically embed images of Christ and Christianity into his works.

But all of that would be just a cover for the kid in me that can't be quenched. For, when I think of The Hobbit, I think of adventure, and falling into worlds unknown, and heroism, and elves, and dragons, and magical rings and swords, and my heart beats a little stronger.

When I hear the words, "In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit," I'm naturally transported back to the first time I read the book. I can feel the pages in my hands. I can practically smell the aged paper as I flip the pages.

And, now that I have children, I'm so excited about sharing that journey with them. The little kid in me wants a few companions on my journey, and I feel Peter Jackson has proven himself an ally in this quest -- he will rebuild Tolkien's imaginary world with taste and respect, and he'll help my children and I adventure there together.

It all makes me think of Bilbo's poem in The Hobbit:

"Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea:
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon.

Roads go ever ever on
Under cloud and under star,
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar,
Eyes that fire and sword have seen
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green
And trees and hills they long have known."

Friends, life is kind of like that. It's a journey. It can be hard. But it's worth it in the end . . . for we will one day reach our home. And there's something magical about Tolkien's world that makes me hunger for home, my true home, in the magical, beautiful realm of heaven with my Creator.

I can't describe it better than that. I can't put more words to it. But the feeling is there and it makes me smile. I hope Peter Jackson's journey to Middle-Earth will bring a little joy and adventure to your life, as well. I believe it will, if you'll give it a chance.

A Return to the Reversal

2011-04-11T12:09:00.003-05:00

A few months ago, I blogged about the brave men on Wake Island in WWII. They went to sleep one day assuming they were laboring on a forgotten, insignificant island -- they awoke the next morning on December 8, 1941, with all the might of imperial Japan bearing down on them.

Feel free to check out that post here.

Now that's a "great reversal," and admittedly a dark one. But, today, I want to look at the positive side of this concept of a great reversal, especially as it pertains to the work of Jesus Christ in our world and in our lives.

Admittedly, the concept of miracles bother a lot of skeptics. And Christ Himself self said that signs and miracles typically fail to change a person's heart . . . even His disciples, after following Him around and watching Him perform miracles, were skeptical that He had truly come out of the tomb after the crucifixion.

But, friends, the miracles of Jesus really weren't miracles -- they were simply great reversals.

What do I mean?

Well, let me unpack it for you just a bit. When God created the heavens and the earth -- and man, for that matter -- things were perfect. Man was perfect. Fellowship between man and God was perfect.

But sin shattered that perfection. Sickness, disease, death, decay, deceit . . . all of those things entered the human condition and what God created as perfect was shattered.

And yet God still has the power to make all things right, and we know He will one day, after His Son returns and the new truly has come. But, even now, God can make things right when He chooses.

And, friends, a miracle by God is not an altering of the laws of the universe -- it's not a change in the fabric of all that we know to be true . . . a miracle to us is simply God restoring the natural order of our creation back to that in which it was created. When Christ walked this earth, He didn't perform miracles -- He simply set things right.

When He healed the centurion's daughter, He simply corrected the power of sin that leads to death . . . and restored health as He had intended it at creation. The same with the raising of Lazarus. The same with the healing of the paralyzed man, the lepers, the woman with the hemorrhage . . . He was just putting things right.

In our lives, too, God wants to put things right. He wants to supplant our flesh nature with His new nature . . . but we have to be willing to yield, to get out of the way, to admit we need the great reversal.

But, friends, even if the reversal seems hard right now, don't fear -- God is not going to abandon His reclamation project. And here's even more good news: what He doesn't finish on this side of eternity, He will set right in eternity future.

On that glorious day, when our risen Savior finally returns for His bride, the great reversal will be complete. All that has been shattered by sin and broken in the past will be set right, restored to its natural order.

As Sam Gamgee utters near the end of J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy, "Is everything sad coming untrue?" Absolutely, my friends . . . everything sad is coming untrue and all according to God's grand design.

May you and I enjoy the great reversals in our lives, whether they are big or small.

(Editor's Note: This blog subject comes with a debt of gratitude to Timothy Keller's book, The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism. It's highly recommended for both the skeptic and the saint.)

Ears to Hear

2011-04-08T09:20:00.003-05:00

There have been many responses to my recent blog regarding my son's rediscovered ability to hear . . . fortunately, many of you have had similar experiences in the past. I no longer feel like the worst parent in the world -- so thanks!

But it has made me think of a phrase that Christ often repeated in the New Testament: "He who has ears to hear, let him hear."

There's an implication in that statement that even for those of us with healthy hearing, hearing is not always easy. Or natural. Or instinctive. Apparently, Christ was accustomed to encountering people who failed to hear -- or, more accurately, listen -- to His message.

Even after three years with the disciples, they all fled in fear after His arrest. They had failed to understand His purpose in coming; they did not understand why He needed to die on the Cross . . . they had failed to hear.

And, along this vein, my newly "hearing" son, Carter, asked me a great question the other day while we were driving along in the car. Here's what he asked: "Dad, sometimes I'm afraid our church doesn't believe the right things about God. How can we know we're right?"

Wow . . . friends, coming from an eight-year-old, that's a fantastic question. And, of course, there are a lot of ways I could have directed my answer. I could have swelled up with pride and told him why I'm confident our church is better than every other church, I could have told him he's too young to be asking such questions, or I could have simply guffawed and avoided the question.

But, instead, I told him the truth. "Carter," I said, "what our church believes is never as important as what the Bible says. The Bible is God's Word -- that's why you must learn to read it, study it, and live your life by it. And if your church doesn't practice what the Bible says, then you need to go find another church that does."

Now, don't misunderstand me: the centuries of work the church has put into studying and explaining the Bible cannot be dismissed off-hand . . . the Spirit has led much of this study, and we cannot despise or ignore it without dishonoring the Holy Spirit. But, as J.I. Packer says, "The proper ground for believing a thing is not that the church or reason says it." It's because God's Word says it.

Carter smiled at my answer and said, in response, "That's why I need to be reading the Bible, to learn more and more about Jesus."

And, as I said in return, "Yes, buddy," I was thinking, "And may he have ears to hear." Forget that: may I have ears to hear. Ears to hear that go beyond mere church tradition, mere reason, mere convenience . . . but ears that hear the very heart of God.

A Whole New World

2011-04-04T18:55:00.002-05:00

At the risk of losing my coveted, self-appointed "parent of the year" award, I need to share a story about my son Carter.

For months -- perhaps several years, to be honest -- we've been aware that his hearing was somewhat deficient because of a series of colds, minor ear infections, and other issues. He has never had a full-blown ear ache from the fluid build-up, but it has often been there, despite allergy medications, benadryl, etc.

So, at the urging of his first grade teacher, we finally scheduled an appointment with an Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist. And, lest you think we just ignored this problem, a doctor in our family had helped us monitor the issue consistently . . . but it was obvious things weren't going to get better on their own.

Anyway, the specialist immediately could tell Carter was having problems with the fluid in his ears and recommended we try a couple of steps before settling for the dreaded surgery for tubes. And, lo and behold, these steps have been working.

They have been working to the point where Carter, while riding in our van during a rainstorm, said, "You mean the rain makes noise when it hits the car?"

Ouch. It was our first indication that his hearing had probably been worse than we had imagined for a long time.

Then his teacher mentioned to us that he now reacts when the principal speaks over the intercom . . . in the past, Carter had not even been aware of the intercom. All of the other students would start preparing for an assembly, or packing up their bags, or whatever -- due to the words of the principal -- and Carter would have to rely on someone else to tell him what had happened.

And just last night, the icing was put on the proverbial cake. After we had already tucked the boys into their beds for the night, Carter came down the hall and complained that he couldn't sleep. Of course we asked why. Here's what he said: "Because I can hear my brother breathing. I didn't know he was so loud when he was sleeping."

So, admittedly, it has not been my finest hour as a parent. Essentially, Carter has been stumbling through life with -- as the doctor said it -- earplugs in his ears. There has been an entire world of sound out there that he has been blissfully unaware of . . . but I guess it's better to address the problem now rather than never.

But this little story immediately made me think of how the majority of us live our lives in the exact same fashion. Yet it's not a world of sound we neglect -- it's the spiritual realm we ignore, whether out of ignorance or intentionality.

Paul said we see through a mirror but dimly, and Christ encouraged us to store up treasures in heaven . . . for heaven, whether we see it or not, is real. As German theologian Meister Eckhardt said, "God is at home. We are in the far country."

Yet, too often, we live as if we're already home. As if this life is all that matters. As if the winner really is the one who dies with the most toys.

But the spiritual realm is real friends, whether we can see it or hear it on a regular basis. A day is coming when it will be all that matters, and I believe we'll weep at the way we traded the temporary for the eternal.

I don't want to get to heaven and be like my little eight-year-old boy, expressing amazement at the sound of the rain on the car window. I don't want to live a life unsuspecting, unwise, and untempered . . . I want to live a life that's radically different than the sin-sick, temporary society around me.

How about you?

Real Courage

2011-04-01T21:36:00.003-05:00

We've all heard stories of brutal attacks occurring in broad daylight in big cities, while bystanders simply watch or walk on past, offering no assistance.

It can happen. It does happen. It's quite easy for man to play the coward and look the other way.

In fact, it happened to the whole world during the Nazis' reign of terror in the 1930s and 1940s. The New York Times reported as early as May of 1942 that the Nazis had executed as many as 40,000 Jews, but the average American felt it was nothing but an unsubstantiated rumor. And The London Daily Telegram reported in July of 1942 that over 1,000,000 Jews were dead . . . but still no one accepted the reports as legitimate.

The world turned a deaf ear and a blind eye to the growing extermination of the Jewish people but, just today, I read an incredible story of one man who showed rare courage in the face of such brutality. Denis Avey was a British POW imprisoned by the Germans in a prison camp close to Auschwitz, and something deep within him forced him to investigate what he was hearing about the Jewish executions.

Avey, now 92-years-old, still remembers those months vividly. Deep in his heart, he had to know if the rumors he was hearing about Auschwitz were true. He could smell something in the air; he talked occasionally to the Jews he encountered on work details, Jews that were easy to identify by the stars of David embroidered into their striped pajamas and their emaciated, blank looks.

Amazingly, while a world ignored evidence of what was happening, Avey hatched an amazing plot to escape his prison camp, exchange places with a Jewish internee, and infiltrate Auschwitz to discover the truth for himself. If the Jews were being executed as the rumors indicated, Avey wanted to know -- he felt compelled to document it, to assist if he could, and to be prepared to speak on the Jews' behalf if he survived the war.

Even more amazingly, Avey didn't do this once -- he did it twice. On both occasions, he spent the night in Auschwitz among the other Jewish prisoners, watching, observing, even encouraging those he encountered. He passed out what cigarettes he could spare from the care packages he had received as a British POW, hoping the Jews might be able to barter with them and survive the horrors of the camp.

Years after the war, several Jews have come forward who survived, and they have corroborated Avey's amazing story, a story he didn't go public with until over 60 years have passed. He tried to -- but even British authorities initially dismissed his claims after the war, ignoring the brutal charges he leveled against the Nazis running Auschwitz. Finally, bitterly frustrated, he began to keep his account to himself.

What is it that makes the average person ignore the holocaust from afar? And what kind of heart beats inside a man that compels him to escape imprisonment only to infiltrate a concentration camp? What made Avey special?

I'm not sure I can answer that question, but I do think Avey's experiences make his opinion today worth noting. Listen to what he had to say about the world in which we're living: "The difference between right and wrong is fast receding. Awareness is being diluted, people are just saying 'such is life'. People are like this now."

David Irving is perhaps the most well-known Holocaust denier, but Iran's Mahmoud Ahmadinejad clearly has the loudest mouth. But there are plenty of others that do not go so far as to deny the Holocaust . . . they simple insist that its not worth remembering, such as Helen Thomas.

Friends, those who do not remember the past are doomed to repeat it. And we already live in a world that's more than willing to ignore tragedy . . . as long as it's happening to someone else.

I'm not sure what Denis Avey had beating in his chest that few others seemed to have, but I'd like to think it was a spark of the divine, the kind of sacrificial love that Christ intends for all His children to have. If we are not the Denis Avey's of our generation, we will have much to regret one day.

It's unlikely you'll ever be involved in something as harrowing and as horrific as the holocaust. But, every day, we have opportunities to either see and react to difficult circumstances around us or to ignore them completely.

It's my prayer that we will be God's ambassadors and we will be a people that see. That help. That intervene. That risk it all to save a world God loves. Denis Avey had that divine spark -- how about you?

Opposite Day

2011-03-29T08:24:00.002-05:00

A few years ago, a fellow named Paul Arden wrote a book called, "Whatever You Think Think the Opposite," that went on to be a bestseller. I can't recommend the book and I'm sure you'll understand why when you read this description Arden used to describe the philosophy of the book:

"Logic and common sense have a habit of leading us to the same conclusions. If you are going to make your mark on the world you have to start thinking differently. To think differently you have to think illogically. Whatever You Think Think The Opposite looks at life the wrong way in a bid to explain the benefits of making wrong decisions."

Did you get that last sentence? The book "looks at life the wrong way in a bid to explain the benefits of making wrong decisions." Wow . . . can't say I agree with that line of ill-logic.

But I also don't want to miss the forest for the trees here. Arden's premise that we all need to start thinking differently is a wise one, especially for fallen creatures often controlled by our old natures. If we're in Christ, God has made us new, and we desperately need to be freed from our old ways, old thoughts, old "logic."

In a better book, J.I. Packer lays out some classic laws of opposites in God's kingdom. He describes holiness as, among other things, "forming good habits, breaking bad habits, resisting temptations to sin, and controlling yourself when provoked."

When faced with the following situations, Packer suggests a few Biblical opposites that are preferable:

* Love as the Christlike reaction to people's malice
* Joy as the Christlike reaction to depressing circumstances
* Peace as the Christlike reaction to troubles, threats, and invitations to anxiety
* Patience as the Christlike reaction to all that is maddening
* Kindness as the Christlike reaction to all who are unkind
* Goodness as the Christlike reaction to bad people and bad behavior
* Faithfulness and gentleness as the Christlike reaction to lies and fury
* Self-control as the Christlike reaction to every situation that goads you to lose your cool and hit out

If you're like me, all of those suggestions are somewhat the opposite of your natural reaction. And thinking like that isn't natural -- it requires a submission to the will of God and daily walk with Christ infused by the power of the Holy Spirit.

But, friends, it's a whole lot more successful than Arden's theory of shaking things up by making wrong decisions. I'd suggest that there's a world full of people making wrong decisions . . . it's those who can aspire to love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and gentleness and self-control that are really finding success in life on a daily basis.

So, for even one day, how about making it opposite day? Instead of practicing what your flesh naturally wants to do, instead of responding by nature, why not seek to surrender to God's better plan?

I know it's illogical, but you'll be glad you did.

If the Shoe Fits

2011-03-27T20:19:00.002-05:00

With all of the chaos Rob Bell has stirred up regarding Hell, I've been drawn to some good theological sources on the subject. Timothy Keller is a particularly good author for such questions -- he has built an evangelical church deep in the heart of New York City (yes, you read that right -- New York City!), and he does a great job addressing difficult subjects regarding God.

I highly recommend his book, "The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism." It's a fantastic read, and it's also a great resource to give to the skeptics in your life. His tone is not combative; in fact, Keller is very reasonable about seven major doubts people justifiably have about the Christian faith.

Calmly, politely, even intelligently, he examines these seven doubts, one of which includes the existence of Hell. His examination of Hell occurs while he addresses this doubt: how can a loving God send people to Hell?

It's the fifth major doubt Keller addresses, and I was rockin' and rollin' through his fantastic book when I stumbled across his description of those who will one day inhabit Hell (with a little nod of the head to the writing of C.S. Lewis):

"We see raging like unchecked flames their pride, their paranoia, their self-pity, their certainty that everyone else is wrong, that everyone else is an idiot! All their humility is gone, and thus so is their sanity. They are utterly, finally locked in a prison of their own self-centeredness, and their pride progressively expands into a bigger and bigger mushroom cloud. They continue to go to pieces forever, blaming everyone but themselves. Hell is that, writ large."

Keller's point is that we often picture God casting people into Hell who are saying, "I'm sorry! Let me out!" But, instead, those who will find themselves in Hell will be there because they chose their freedom over God. Hell, as C.S. Lewis once said, is "the greatest monument to human freedom."

Now, we could explore that argument all day, but I'm not smart enough for that. Instead, I'd encourage you to go back up and re-read the paragraph I quoted from Keller's book regarding those who will find themselves in Hell. And, after you re-read it, do so again . . . slowly.

Maybe, like me, if you get real honest with yourself, you'll see yourself in that paragraph. It's a sobering reality, but if the shoe fits . . . you know what they say.

I have to freely confess that I am not going to escape Hell because I'm smart, or I'm unselfish, or I lack pride . . . I'm only going to escape Hell because God humbled Himself to the point of death on a Cross, offering His Son as a sacrifice for my sin, my anger, my arrogance, my pride, my self-pity -- all those things named in Keller's paragraph.

And now, even on the other side of my own personal Cross and relationship with Christ, I often still find myself walking as one of the world's wounded, blinded sinners who has chosen sin over His Spirit.

Oh, Father, thank you for your grace . . . but be glorified in me today. And every day. May I die to myself and live for You!

On Christian Conversation

2011-03-24T09:47:00.003-05:00

The latest controversy in Christian circles revolves around a controversial book by Rob Bell entitled, "Love Wins." Oddly enough, I don't want to debate the content of the book as much as I would like to address the conversation regarding the book, which seems to be garnering more attention.

In the book, Bell carefully questions the existence of Hell, the fundamentals of the Gospel, and the nature of God's love. Many slapped the label "heretic" on him immediately, others embraced the questions as fundamental questions that must be answered, and others punted . . . why touch this hot potato at all?

I've seen Bell blistered by blogs. I've seen John Piper taken to task as an arrogant, judgmental legalist for tweeting last week, "Farewell, Rob Bell." I've read so much stuff on Bell's book that my head is starting to swim.

The central questions seem to come down to this: how can Christians have dialogue about controversial subjects? Is Bell wrong to even question the existence of Hell? And are his critics equally wrong for their harsh tone in addressing his opinions?

All of those are great questions and I don't have the wisdom to fully answer them. I do know this: God is big enough for our questions.

I've often counseled friends to ask God the tough questions -- He can handle it. The book of Job, in fact, models this. Job asked the tough questions. And, when our hearts are heavy and life hurts, we, too, will feel the need to ask the tough questions.

I don't have a problem with Bell asking the tough questions. The fabric of the Gospel is strong enough to handle our questions.

My problem with Bell is how he refuses to let the Bible be the final authority on answering his questions. If the question is, "Is Hell real?", then we should turn to the Bible -- not the opinion of man or Rob Bell, for that matter -- for the answer.

Jesus Himself spoke specifically of Hell in Matthew 5:22 and 10:28, as well as Mark 9:44 and Luke 16:19-26. Paul was very clear in 2 Thessalonians 1:9, and John the beloved disciple was crystal clear in Revelation 20:9-15.

The word "hell" appears in the New Testament at least 11 specific times, as well as 31 times in the Old Testament. And the words Gehenna, Sheol, and Hades appear often, too, and they sometimes refer to the "hell" that Bell is debating.

If you really want answers to Bell's question about Hell, I'd suggest you do a word study on Hell, Gehenna, Sheol, and Hades in Scripture, and decide what the Bible says, rather than simply taking Bell, Piper, or anyone else's word for it. God's Word stands on its own, friends.

Bell hasn't done anything wrong in asking questions about Hell . . . his error, in my humble opinion, is that he has taken a position which directly contradicts the words of Jesus Christ in the New Testament. That, my friends, requires a response from defenders of the faith.

In Acts 20:28-32, Romans 16:17-18, Galatians 1:8-10, 2 Peter 2:1-3 and most clearly in 2 Timothy 4:2-5, the church was instructed by the Apostles how to deal with error. When the Gospel is subverted, when the doctrine of salvation is challenged, when the nature of God is undermined, the church must act.

Sometimes, healthy conversation requires confrontation. It doesn't have to be mean-spirited. It shouldn't be hateful. But it has to involve truth.

I have no problem with Bell asking questions about universalism, Hell, etc. But I also have no problem telling Bell -- and those who embrace his post-modern theology -- that his conclusions aren't Scriptural.

If there are two sides in this argument, I believe I'll side with the historic Jesus, thank you very much. I don't mean that spitefully. I'm not trying to be angry. I don't want to overuse the word "heretic."

But I would like to conclude this conversation with another question, in honor of Rob Bell. If, as Bell asserts, "love wins" in the end, why, exactly, did Jesus have to die for our sins in the first place?

Before you answer that question, I suggest you start with what the Scripture says rather than the opinions of men. And the sources you reach for -- whether you rely on the Bible, Bell's book, or other opinions of men -- will tell you much about your theology and your view of God.

The Enemy's Fortress

2011-03-21T11:01:00.003-05:00

Ever since Adam and Eve told God the first lie in the Garden of Eden, there's been a battle between truth and man's self-justifications and worldly wisdom.

I've been reading an excellent book called Called to Lead: 26 Leadership Lessons from the Life of the Apostle Paul that puts this battle into stark terms. Obviously, the author -- John MacArthur -- crafted the book around the life of Paul, and it does a fantastic job of creating a Biblical model of leadership . . . a model that is often neglected in our society for a much more worldly-oriented perspective.

In fact, Paul argues that the greatest challenge to Biblical leadership is none other than our worldly, man-centered approach to doing things -- or what a lot of people would call common sense or even practical thinking.

But the Apostle Paul saw such philosophy for what it was: Satan's chief fortresses in the battle for the minds of men. In I Corinthians 3:19-20, Paul says that our war is against spiritual forces who inhabit fortresses in our world, with those fortresses being none other than "the wisdom of this world" and "the thoughts of the wise."

And how do you combat such fortresses? With truth.

Paul makes spiritual warfare simple: it's all about demolishing evil lies with the truth. Spiritual warfare is not the crazy things you see on television, or magic handkerchiefs, or spells and casting things out in the name of Jesus . . . it is simply bringing truth to bear on each and every situation in our lives.

The truth is the truth of the Gospel, the truth of the Word, the truth of who God is -- and the truth is always the cold, hard facts.

Beware when you are in a situation and someone refuses to deal in truth. No matter how compelling their argument may be -- no matter how convicted they may be that their decisions are right according the man's logic and even experience -- when truth doesn't reign, Satan smiles and God's glory is tainted.

Churches, by the way, are famous for struggling in this area. We love to model ourselves after Fortune 500 companies. We love to adopt worldly systems for operating; we love to make ourselves feel Godly by using man's logic rather than than simple truth.

And, when our man-centered thinking leads to a suppression of the truth, there are always going to be problems. The church can be harmed and momentum is lost.

Yet, according to Paul, it's in these situations that we can expect God to act. God's glory shines the greatest when truth is embraced, and He refuses to sit on the sidelines while man ignores truth . . . truth always wins in the end, and those who seek to hide the truth will be judged.

I've been around long enough to be involved in situations where people wanted to suppress the truth. I've been asked to ignore the truth, hide the truth, and even alter the truth -- and I'm just simple-minded enough to cling to the truth.

It's a spiritual battle, my friends, but God -- and truth -- wins every time.

A God Who Sees

2011-03-17T15:41:00.004-05:00

C.S. Lewis famously recommended that the wise man read an old book for every contemporary one, and I have tried to stick to that schedule -- at least to some degree -- in my personal and professional life.

Such a practice might save a lot of modern-day, self-proclaimed theologians (i.e. Rob Bell) from thinking too much of their new fangled, flawed theology . . . if we surround ourselves with only contemporary thinkers who blog, tweet, and toot our own horns repetitiously, it would be easy to walk further and further along in a ditch headed in the wrong direction.

So, theologically speaking, I try to sprinkle in a little Oswald Chambers or E.M. Bounds for every new work from John MacArthur or David Platt I sink my teeth into.

And, when it comes to fiction, it's not hard to reach for a classic every once and a while to balance out the John Grisham, Jeff Shaara, or even Laura Hillenbrand sitting at the bedside. Most recently, the classic in my hand has been Alexander Dumas' (pere, for those really well-read folks out there) The Count of Monte Cristo.

It's a spell-binding thriller full of adventure and action, but also rife with spiritual overtones and veiled insinuations about the character of God. Arching through it all is a clear thread of the sovereignty of God. (And, by the way, the 2002 version of the movie is a particularly good retelling of this classic tale).

And, as always, this note of God's sovereignty speaks to me and encourages me in even the darkest of days. The primary character of The Count of Monte Cristo, Edmond Dantes, winds up languishing in prison unjustly, but he is initially kept company in his cell by a simple phrase etched into his wall, "God will give me justice."

Friends, God sees. God knows. God discerns the thoughts and motivations of our hearts -- everyone's hearts. God is not asleep at the wheel, He has not abdicated control, even in the wildest events . . . in a world seemingly out of control, we must remember that God still sees.

Even though I am prone to act as if I doubt this, I know it is true deep in my bones. In the ministry, there are always times when people will cleverly attack your character and integrity behind your back, and I have learned to allow God's hand of justice to move as He determines is best . . . God sees, and His will always prevails (just this past week, I have watched a close friend endure such criticism not once, but twice).

Of course, this perspective places tremendous merit on the condition of our heart. It's why -- sometimes relentlessly so -- I pursue honesty, integrity and truth at virtually all costs. I am by no means a perfect person, but I stand ready to allow God's judgment to fall on how I've labored, how I've ministered, how I've conducted myself in my years of ministry.

God sees. God knows. And God's will always prevails . . . on one side of eternity or the other.

A Little Culture

2011-03-08T23:26:00.001-06:00

I've discovered your secret - you come to this little blog for culture.

I try hard to expose you to the finer things in life, including role models like Rex Ryan of the New York Jets, legendary films like The Return to Boggy Creek, and educated diatribes on why people feel the liberty to sue McDonalds after spilling their coffee.

Okay, maybe I'm overstating things. Maybe I'm just flat wrong - but at least I have a sense of humor about it and I'm willing to admit my role as a blogging bottom-feeder.

But, today, all of that changes, at least momentarily. Today, I'd like to share a poem from Rudyard Kipling that really speaks to me (he's been dead a long time, so I think I'm safe on copyright infringement). And, as a further bonus for you, the poem really doesn't require an introduction - it pretty much speaks for itself.

So, without further adieu, here is "It," by Kipling:

"If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run --
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And -- which is more -- you'll be a Man, my son!"

Empty Nets

2011-03-05T10:02:00.003-06:00

There's an image from the New Testament (John 21) that keeps playing over and over in my mind like a video set on repeat. Perhaps it will speak to you in your life circumstances, as well.

I see the disciples -- at least seven of them -- toiling away in the night, laboring to catch fish in the Sea of Galilee. They are working hard at what they know best, despite the weight of the nets, despite the rocking of the boat, despite the mist and the foam being thrown up from the sea.

They are sweaty and somewhat discouraged, for their labors have been entirely in vain. But at least they are working. At least they are doing that which they love.

And then Jesus shows up out of the mist and orders them to simply cast their nets on the other side of the boat. It's a simple change, probably guaranteeing little . . . but it's a change, nonetheless.

Of course, we all know how the story goes. When once the disciples obey Christ and cast their nets on the other side of the boat, the load of fish strains the bounds of the net and nearly capsizes the boat.

And what's the moral of the story?

It may be different for you, but I can tell you why this loop keeps replaying in my mind: I know deep in my bones that I want to be right where God wants me to be.

It's not enough to do something you love to the best of your ability. The truth is that such labor -- if you're fishing on the wrong side of the boat -- can only be categorized (in the words of Stephen Olford) as, "I have toiled all night and, generally speaking, have caught nothing."

But, when we find the perfect will of God for our lives, something magical happens. Something astonishing. Something beyond comprehension.

If, like me, you discover that there's a chance you've been fishing on the wrong side of the boat, there's no reason to be discouraged. Sometimes, God puts you there to teach you a lesson. Sometimes, He's sharpening you. Sometimes, He's sifting you through adversity.

Times of disappointment are bound to come, friends. Sometimes, you go out to fish one night and find that the conditions of the sea have changed underneath you. Sometimes, you get swept along by a strange tide headed in an entirely different direction. Sometimes, an unpredicted storm swallows you whole.

But don't miss the key here: when God redirects you to the opposite side of the boat, you don't want to miss His direction. We can do the right thing the right way all day long on the wrong side of the boat . . . and catch nothing.

Perhaps your empty nets are merely the gentle voice of God redirecting you . . . and there's always peace to be found when we find ourselves fishing on the right side of the boat.

Cover Your Eyes

2011-03-01T13:02:00.002-06:00

As a young fellow, my first scary movie was "Return to Boggy Creek."

I know, I know -- it's really not that scary . . . it's a sequel to a lame, made-at-home horror movie, for goodness' sake.

But I saw the movie when I was seven years old, it was made like a documentary (which made me think it was a true story) and the legend of the Fouke monster was centered not far from where I lived.

So, needless to say, I was scared to death. I watched the entire movie with both hands covering my eyes, peering through tiny slits I forced myself to make between my fingers.

I watched it, but I didn't want to see it.

Of course, there are a lot of things in life I'd rather not see. In fact, I know this makes me strange, but I don't slow down when I pass car wrecks on the interstate.

I don't like to see replays of Joe Theismann's leg breaking in 1985 on Monday Night football. I didn't watch Bill Clinton's famous, "I did not inhale" speech or his Monica Lewinsky press conference.

I'd rather not see commercials for the humane society or public service announcements showing what smoking does to your lungs.

My imagination is quite strong enough, thank you, without all of the visual prompts.

But, sometimes, life puts you in a position to watch the train wrecks as they approach. It can be a helpless place to be, and there's only one way you can maintain your sanity in the midst of the approaching accident.

At least there's only one way for me to cope: the sovereignty of God.

I know I write on this a lot, but it's because it must be an indispensable part of any Christian's worldview . . . and it's because I need to be reminded of this truth over and over again.

We must believe and understand that God is never asleep at the wheel. We must believe and trust that He is always working even bad circumstances out for good.

Just ask Joseph when He was falsely accused by Potiphar's vixen of a wife. Ask Paul when he was arrested and imprisoned by the Romans. And ask Jesus when He hung on the Cross.

God is still in control even when the images we see are scary, even when other people and circumstances appear out of control.

Unlike the false God Baal during the false prophets' showdown with Elijah on Mt. Carmel, our God is not on a potty break. He's not asleep. He's not otherwise detained.

He is aware. He is in control. And He will receive the glory.

And thank goodness He continues to exercise control even while I avert my eyes.

One for the Bearded Fellow

2011-02-26T19:47:00.003-06:00

This will be a strange post, at least to some. The words I wish to share will be somewhat harsh, but entirely true. And I'll be tempted to assuage them in some manner, to point us again to the love and mercy of God -- as if we could forget those characteristics -- but I'm intending to restrain myself.

Just let the basic truth of what I'm going to share wash over you and settle into your spiritual bones. Let it seep in and see how it fits . . . if it isn't truth, move on.

But, if it's truth, wrestle with it just a bit. Let it shape you for a few moments. Let it direct your thoughts and your personal "temperature" just a bit, especially as your temperature relates to your walk with God.

Now, have I got your attention? Is it okay to proceed with what I want to share? Since this is my blog -- and you can't interrupt me and talk back -- I'll move on. Here's what I want you to wrestle with:

I was reading the words of a Franciscan monk, Richard Rohr (don't ask me how I stumbled across him), and he had a list of what he considered to be the five essential truths to which men must awaken if they are to grow into their God-given masculinity and spirituality. Here they are:

1. Life is hard
2. You are not that important
3. Your life is not about you
4. You are not in control
5. You are going to die

Whew . . . pretty heavy stuff. And, I know, I know . . . you want to rush in and say, "What do you mean, 'I'm not that important? I'm a child of God, by golly!'" But don't let yourself do that. Don't nitpick. Don't argue. Just look at those truths on their surface and let them work on your heart just a bit.

If you will wrestle with them for a moment and lay them alongside the words of Christ in the Gospels, words such as, "Take up your Cross and follow Me," and "No man, after putting his hand to the plow and looking back is fit for the kingdom of God," and "He who has found his life will lose it, and he who has lost his life for My sake will find it," you might find something worthwhile.

If not, well, I apologize for wasting your time.

And, if you're tempted to qualify those words -- if you want to placate them, wrestle with them a bit, even massage them -- then I suggest you go back and read them again.

I've been waking up with those five sentences heavy on my heart over the last few months and, unbelievably, I'm actually more alive, more excited, more determined than I've ever been. In fact, I'm starting to feel a little like a locust-eating, beard-growing, unkempt man of the desert everyday.

I must decrease that He might increase and God is good all the time. These are not complimentary or contradictory truths . . . they are simply truths, my friends.

The End is Only the Beginning

2011-02-20T16:47:00.000-06:00

Time is a strange task-master, to be honest. Sometimes, time passes as if it were standing still . . . at other times, time passes like the blink of an eye. But time that can be measured -- not felt, not sensed, but quantified -- never lies.

If you know me well, it's probably not hard to anticipate why I'm reflecting so much on time. Over the last few months, several of the men who I've served with for the past ten years have announced their plans to retire/transition into new adventures in life.

Ten years ago, I came to FBC Russellville as a relatively untested, thirty-year-old minister. FBC had a great staff at that time, anchored by Stephen Davis, Tommy Havens, Tom Walker, etc., and the church soon added several others (Kelly Whitney, Travis Arterbury, Scott Palmer).

But time is a funny thing. Ten years later, everyone I just mentioned has either retired, left the church, or transitioned into a part-time role, or announced plans to depart. In a few months, none of those "old" hands will remain.

Suddenly it's an end of a era. And it just sort of came out of nowhere.

An old mentor of mine (hey Tim, do you still read this thing?), once wisely said, "Celebrate before you evaluate," and I've been trying to do that over the last few weeks.

The first step should be to look back on the past ten years and, as I've done so, I've been encouraged to take a deep breath and thank the Lord for all that's happened. It's been a good ten years -- certainly not without its wars, and conflicts, and tests -- but also filled with salvations, life change, and breakthroughs.

It's been a special time for our church and a special time for me personally. I've been able to serve alongside some Godly leaders, and I've had the joy of fulfilling a commitment I felt the Lord wanted me to make to help Bro. Stephen (our pastor of 27 years) finish well.

But now all of that is drawing to a conclusion. A new staff has stepped up to lead, (they're amazing, by the way) and Stephen, Tommy, and many of the others are stepping off the stage . . . and I'm left with the inevitable questions about what all of this means to me.

As I mentioned, I had felt convicted to keep plugging away at FBC in order to help Stephen finish well (as if he needed my help). But I had kept my head down and refused to consider what the next step for me might be . . . but now those questions are pressing me just a bit.

It's an end of an era, a time of rejoicing at a job well done, but -- for me, at least -- it's a new beginning. For the first time in ten years, I'm getting to ask God the big questions about what the next ten years might look like, and frankly, I'm excited.

The end is only the beginning, and it's going to be an adventure, my friends. With God, that's just the way it is, and I love it.

If You're Bored . . .

2011-02-14T13:10:00.002-06:00

There are some things I love about self-publishing, which is the way I've handled my first three novels.

First of all, I love having complete control over the content. No one gets to tell me that I'm missing the demographic and demand that I include vampires, or romance, or less of a spiritual message. I get to write my book just as I want and that's the way it is.

I like that. I like it a lot.

But there's one thing I don't like: in self-publishing, I'm kind of my own when it comes to promoting the book. In fact, it's called self-promotion. And, despite my journalism background, I readily admit that I fail at the task of self-promotion.

Yes, I've written a book . . . but I'm not sure it's worth you paying good money to read. Yes, I'm having a book signing this weekend, but I'm certainly not insinuating it's worth your time and money to drop by and see me.

But, since self-publishing demands that I do a little self-promoting (or no one will actually read my books, which would sort of defeat the purpose of writing them), I must give you the specifics of the last book signing for Cords of Shadow:

When: This Saturday, February 19th, 2011, from Noon until 2 p.m.
Where: Vintage Books, 602 East Parkway Drive, Russellville, Arkansas
What: A book signing for Cords of Shadow (you can also pick up signed copies of my first two books, Skinwalker and The Light on the Tracks).
Why: Well, I'm kind of supposed to do this, I think . . . it's called self-promotion.

So there you have it: the scoop on this weekend's big non-event. If you are out and about on Saturday afternoon, drop by Vintage books and see me. I'd love the company! Seriously . . . I mean it, whether that sounds self-promotional or not.

An Ember in the Dark

2011-02-09T17:53:00.004-06:00

I've got at least eight inches of snow in my yard and a fire roaring in my fireplace. Needless to say, it's an unusual day in Arkansas.

I'm not a big fan of winter weather. Yes, I do think snow is lovely. I enjoy watching it fall. I enjoy the preternatural kiss of silence it seems to bestow on God's creation, and I always want at least one brush each year with "true" winter weather.

But it doesn't take long for me to want summer to return. The older I get, the more sensitive I get to the cold, and the harder I seem to fall when I step on a patch of ice.

Yet, there is one additional thing I love about winter: it's keeping a fire going in my fireplace. I love stoking the flames, rearranging the logs, and basking in the fresh heat.

And it always makes me think of one of my favorite poems (not that I'm well-read enough to have many, to tell the truth). Perhaps, on this winter day, this brief verse will speak to you and your life circumstance like it does to me:

"Faintly, along the shadowed shores of night
I saw a wilderness of stars that flamed
And fluttered as they climbed or sank, and shamed
The crouching dark with shyly twinkling light;
I saw them there, odd fragments quaintly bright,
And wondered at their presence there unclaimed,
Then thought, perhaps, that they were dreams unnamed,
That faded slow, like hope's arrested flight.

Or vanished suddenly, like futile fears --
And some were old and worn like precious things
That youth preserves against encroaching years --
Some disappeared like songs that no man sings,
But one remained -- an ember in the dark --
I crouched alone, and blew upon the spark."

Oddly enough, that poem is from a collection by a man who lacked a high school education, the man typically regarded as "that western writer," Louis L'Amour. The book is called Smoke From This Altar, and several of his collected poems have hung in my consciousness for the decade or longer that has passed since I first read them.

But, the image above of the man crouching to blow on the fading spark in the gathering darkness . . . well, that image has often whispered to me. I think we all have dreams we have nurtured in the gloom, and I sincerely believe that -- as a Christ follower -- I have been called to keep the Light alive in a dark world.

It speaks to me of much more than that, some emotions sweet and some bitter, but I would be remiss if I unpacked all of my thoughts and overrode yours. A good poem is meant to be savored, to be lingered over, and I hope you will do so on this dark, snowy night.

Linger over the last ember in the dark . . . perhaps it will speak to you as it spoke to me.

All Politics Aside

2011-02-05T10:49:00.003-06:00

I know it's a tall order, but I'd love to put all politics aside, if only for a moment.

Tomorrow, you are likely to hear a passing mention that it would have been the 100th birthday of former President Ronald Reagan. And, all politics aside, there's a part of the Reagan legacy for which I am profoundly thankful.

Honestly, I'm not talking politics. I'm not trying to promote his fiscal policies, his self-proclaimed fight in the Cold War, or anything else . . . to each his own, as for those matters.

But I am convinced of one thing: Ronald Reagan, on the 40th anniversary of D-Day, gave a speech at Pointe du Hoc in Normandy, France, that transformed World War II from a subdued memory of our nation to a symbol of our greatest hour.

You can feel as you wish about Ronald Reagan and the rest of his political legacy. But the effect of his Pointe du Hoc speech is hardly up for argument. Every major political analyst and historian freely admits that his speech 25 years ago this summer inspired our generation's love for the people, events, and sacrifices of World War II.

Without his speech to the survivors of the U.S. Army 2nd Ranger Battalion that day in Pointe du Hoc, it's very likely we would not have "Saving Private Ryan" or "Band of Brothers." Without his stirring speech, I would not understand the significance to my forefathers of such words as Guadalcanal, Peleliu, Saipan, Iwo Jima, Wake Island . . . you name it.

Even Reagan's political foes admit that June 6, 1984, was perhaps his finest moment. Every word of the speech (crafted by Peggy Noonan) was delivered with honesty and passion. Every word cut to the core of his admiration for the aging men seated before him and the nameless, deceased heroes they represented.

Just read the opening salvo of his speech:

"We're here to mark that day in history when the Allied armies joined in battle to reclaim this continent to liberty. For four long years, much of Europe had been under a terrible shadow. Free nations had fallen, Jews cried out in the camps, millions cried out for liberation. Europe was enslaved, and the world prayed for its rescue. Here in Normandy the rescue began. Here the Allies stood and fought against tyranny in a giant undertaking unparalleled in human history."

I've watched the actual speech on youtube, and it brought fresh tears to my eyes. Not because of my love for Ronald Reagan, but because of the undying sense of gratitude and affection I have for the men arrayed before him on that day 25 years ago.

In one generation, the shame and controversy of Korea and Vietnam had robbed our nation of the sense of heroism and sacrifice that should forever radiate from the beaches of Normandy, Iwo Jima, Saipan . . . you name it. But that speech -- one simple, passionate speech -- restored the memory and legacy of millions to a nation.

Again, read Reagan's words that day: "When one Ranger fell, another would take his place . . . two hundred and twenty-five came here. After two days of fighting, only ninety could still bear arms. Behind me is a memorial that symbolizes the Ranger daggers that were thrust into the top of these cliffs. And before me are the men who put them there. These are the boys of Pointe du Hoc. These are the men who took the cliffs. These are the champions who helped free a continent. These are the heroes who helped end a war."

There's so much more I could say, so much more I want to say . . . but I doubt few will pause to consider the significance of those who gave their lives some 67 years ago. But I'll tell you this -- my sons understand what happened on June 6, 1944. They know what our nation's Marines faced that day in late 1944 when they were ordered to cross the airfield at Peleliu, they know that John Basilone -- a Medal of Honor winner for his bravery on Guadalcanal -- died on the beach at Iwo Jima after demanding to lead a new group of men into battle, and they know that many in our Navy died in the first days of the battle for Guadalcanal.

They know these things because I've resolved not to allow this sacrifice to be forgotten. And I tip my hat to President Reagan on the anniversary of this 100th birthday -- my sense of history obligates me to thank him for his love of the men who fought, and died, and survived at brutal Pointe du Hoc.

I, for one, will not forget.

(Editor's note: If you wish to view actual footage of Reagan's Pointe du Hoc speech, please click this link.)

Surprise!

2011-02-03T14:35:00.004-06:00

We all love surprises, except when they are unpleasant, right?

When I think of surprises (this will show my age, I guess), Lucille Ball comes to my mind. Did anyone do a better expression of complete shock and surprise than Ball? And, of course, Ricky Ricardo was the perfect straight man to her shtick, as were their two neighbors, Fred & Ethel Mertz.

And you can't think of old television and surprises without thinking of a certain character's patented catch-phrase, "Surprise, surprise, surprise." Of course, it helps if it's said in a slow, Southern drawl -- surely you're already thinking of Gomer Pyle, aren't you?

Anyway, I digress. Back to surprises in general. One of the most amazing things about people is their ability to surprise you. Just when you think you know someone, they can behave in a way that absolutely defies the character that you had begun to chisel into stone for them.

Sometimes, this surprise is pleasant. Sometimes, it's rather unpleasant. But it's always rather surprising . . . and I've experienced my fair share of this lately.

Oddly enough, all of these surprises always push me back to the same spot -- a deeper appreciation for the character of God. We really do worship an unchanging, incredible, majestic God, and He can be trusted.

People often say -- quite accurately, I admit -- that we will never truly understand God. Yes, He is higher and greater and so far beyond our feeble minds to grasp that we're left grasping just a meager portion of His character.

But that doesn't mean we can't trust what He has revealed to us in Scripture with certainty. In fact, the exact opposite is true.

The more I study Scripture, the more confident I am of the God that allows Himself to be manifested to us in the Word of God. Does He reveal all of Himself to us in the Word? No way . . . perhaps no more than the tip of the iceberg, the rest of which will only be revealed to us in the eternity of heaven.

But what has been revealed can be trusted. We see Him as heavenly Father in the Word. We see Him as the broken and bruised Savior through His Son. We sense Him as the Comforter through the ministry of the Holy Spirit.

These things are real. They are true. And they are not surprising . . . even though we often forget them, neglect them, and experience them all over again as if they were new.

Unlike a man, God can be trusted. And the surprises always lead us onward -- never contradicting the foundation that has already been laid, but merely complimenting it -- and moving us toward a better understanding of who He is.

Surprise, surprise, surprise!

A Paradigm Shift

2011-01-31T09:40:00.002-06:00

I've always been fascinated by the life of the prophet Elijah. He is significant in Scripture for many reasons, but I think I find his personal life as fascinating as any of his miracles or his apparent role in future prophetic events.

What am I referring to? How about the time that he went from battling and destroying the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel to fleeing to the wilderness in a fit of total despair?

Do you remember that story? In an instant, Elijah was transformed from a celebrating spiritual leader to a groveling, needy failure . . . all simply because of a carefully-worded threat from wicked Jezebel.

In the moment of his greatest success, Elijah received a death threat from Jezebel and the foundation of his world -- or at least his perception of it -- changed dramatically. Call it a paradigm shift.

And Elijah didn't handle his paradigm shift particularly well, and neither do we, for the most part. I take solace from his depression, if only because it makes me feel like less of a spiritual failure when I feel the same emotions.

But, at the end of the day, we should never question what God showed us in the light when the darkness overtakes us. Never abandon wisdom that has worked for weeks, or months, or years, when life gets tough . . . that's never the time to flee to the wilderness like Elijah did in I Kings.

It's the time to hunker down. It's the time to stick to your convictions. It's the time to trust a sovereign God all the more and rely on His character, His wisdom, and His provision.

Of course, this is easier said than done. And it's easier said than done when you're not currently undergoing a paradigm shift. But, friends, God doesn't change just because our circumstances do.

In the midst of the paradigm shift, keep following Biblical wisdom and cling to the one, true God, the one who never changes, and the one who can always be trusted. You keep telling yourself that . . . and then tell me, when occasion permits!

The Great Reversal

2011-01-27T09:32:00.003-06:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about tiny Wake Island.

I know what you're thinking: I've never heard about Wake Island. But that's tragic because Wake Island has a special place in American history.

In December of 1941, Wake Island (about a three-square-mile piece of a coral atoll) was America's easternmost outpost in proximity to the Japanese mainland. That means it was hours beyond even Midway and I know you've heard of Midway.

It was garrisoned by less than 500 active military, mostly Marines, and a slightly larger number of civilian contractors. And it was considered a quiet, unimportant, insignificant piece of real estate . . . the perfect place for a Marine or a civilian to spend a few years of service to their country.

But, on the morning of December 8, 1941, a great reversal occurred. The men on this tiny, insignificant island began to hear the chatter from Pearl Harbor (literally a thousand miles and the international dateline away). Pearl had been devastated by a sneak attack from the Japanese Navy and a new, deadly reality was dawning on the men of Wake Island.

When they went to bed, they were sleeping on an insignificant piece of coral. When they awoke they next day, the airport they had been constructing suddenly made them the primary target for Japan's next military action.

Their tiny garrison of men and a handful of patrol planes suddenly was all that stood between the entire military might of Japan and complete aerial superiority over the vast Pacific area from the Philippines, to Guam, to Burma, to Indochina, even to Midway.

That's a great reversal, my friends, a seismic shift in reality as they had once known it. And I know a few folks -- including myself -- who've gone through such reversals, and it's a tough place to be.

I can't say I've ever felt as isolated, as hopeless, as vulnerable as the men of Wake Island undoubtedly felt on the morning of December 8, but I've been close. And perhaps you have, as well.

But God is in control of even the great reversal. Just ask Joseph, in prison in Egypt. Ask Mordecai, as he watched Haman construct a massive gallows. Ask Moses, fleeing from Pharaoh and Egypt. Ask Paul, as he fell to the ground on the Damascus Road.

Ask anyone who has understood their sinful condition and reached out for salvation in Jesus Christ and been made new -- forgiven, loved, redeemed.

It's the great reversal . . . and I trust the fact that my God is truly the architect of the Great Reversal in my life. May I cling to this truth in the dark moments, when, like the men of Wake Island, I feel outnumbered, forgotten, abandoned, and bound for destruction.

The Great Reversal may be just around the corner.

Baby Steps

2011-01-07T09:20:00.002-06:00

I have a confession to make: I went to bed at halftime of the Sugar Bowl.

Not only did I go to bed, I went to sleep. I understand that this somewhat destroys the myth of my super-fan status in regard to the Arkansas Razorbacks, but it's true.

Now, to be honest, I haven't felt well since Christmas day. Sinus infection, dizziness, nausea . . . you name it. But that's not why I went to sleep at halftime with the Hogs trailing 28-10.

I'd like to say I went to sleep because I've grown older and wiser and Razorback games just don't mean as much to me today at the grand ol' age of 40 as they did when I was 16 . . . I'd like to say that, but it would be a lie.

The bitter, transparent truth is that I went to bed because I lack faith in the Razorbacks. Years of watching my lovable losers lose big games have taught me to temper my enthusiasm and prepare myself for the inevitable -- when it really, really counts, the Razorbacks typically lose.

So I went to bed at halftime, primarily to spare myself the bitterness of more disappointment. And, oddly enough, I was right. History did repeat itself, even though the team gave a valiant effort in the second half.

None of this seemed to matter, at least in the big picture of things, until I was reading through Genesis 17 this morning. In that chapter, we have an account of Abraham laughing (verse 17) when the Lord repeated His promise of bringing a son from Abraham's marriage with Sarah.

This is Abraham, the patriarch of whom the Scripture recounts, "His faith was reckoned unto Him as righteousness." This is Abraham, long-suffering, unwavering, trusting Abraham . . . laughing in the face of God with a raw lack of faith.

Had I misread the passage? I knew Sarah had laughed, but Abraham? Really?

Yes, really.

But please understand that Abraham's life was marked by a remarkable faith in God -- despite an occasional lapse. And such will be true for us, friends. We will have our missteps, our moments of doubt, our split seconds of indecision and doubt . . . but, at the end of the day, what do we believe about our God?

Maybe I do lack faith in the Razorbacks . . . I won't deny that. But what about my faith in God? I admit I sometimes question God. Sometimes I doubt. Sometimes I second-guess.

But, at the end of the day, I know He in whom I have believed. I believe He is a rewarder of those who trust Him. And I believe that faith in God is literally a gift from Him. And, as Stephen F. Olford has wisely said, "[Faith] is not an attribute of God, but His essential nature. Therefore, only those who are partakers of God's divine nature are possessors of it."

Subsequently, as I die to myself and allow the person of Christ to rule and reign within me, my faith will grow . . . as God's nature increases within me, my trust in His person will swell as well.

May I nurture this gift from God. May I cling to it in the dark times. May I speak of it boldly and confidently with all who choose to listen. And I may I ever cling to the truth that God even permitted Abraham to laugh -- on occasion -- and still loved him beyond measure and celebrated his faith.

Faith in a God like that will help me sleep even better at night, even through the next Sugar Bowl, if necessary. And faith like that will remind me that my faith is in Him, not in me.

Write Your Letter

2010-12-31T10:16:00.002-06:00

Some folks love New Year's resolutions and some people hate them, but there are a few things that are inevitable for 2011.

Take, for instance, the Apostle Paul's words in 2 Corinthians 3:2: "You are our letter, written in our hearts, known and read by all men."

Whether we want to admit it or not, we will write a letter to the world around us in 2011 by our words, our actions, our deeds, our lives . . . we will be read by everyone. And, if we our followers of Christ, we should desire to be His letter, directing others to Him.

But is that what our letter will say?

The truth is that we have all lived huge portions of our lives writing petty prose that says nothing about Jesus, sentences that deify sports, and materialism, and recreation . . . just about anything other than the nature and person of Christ.

So what will your letter say in 2011?

Let me be blunt and transparent with my handful of faithful blog readers regarding my letter for 2011. Here's what I want the world to read in my life for the next year:

I desire for the world to see a hunger in me for the Word of God. When I teach, when I preach, when I speak of the Word, may I do so with a sincere reverence for God's truth. May my life communicate clearly what I believe: the Word of God has the power to transform our lives and show us the character and nature of God, of which we should desire to be imitators.

I desire for the world to see in me a person of balance, a person who serves His God and His church with passion and determination while giving my family the best of my time. May my children see a father in 2011 who loves them and desires for them to grow into humble servants of God who are willing to go wherever God directs them to bring Him glory.

I desire for the world to see in me a person committed to bringing God's glory to the nations, whether it be from Russellville, Arkansas or anywhere else on the globe. May my finances reflect a commitment to God's global mission, and may I be willing to go where called and contribute in anyway possible to the advancement of God's name to the nations by partnering and assisting others.

I desire for my local church to see in me a servant leader. I have been blessed in so many ways -- I have so few personal needs. So may I sincerely pour out my life in service to others, whether it is through counseling, preaching, teaching, or even moving tables and chairs or cleaning up after events.

There are other things I could write concerning my letter, but I believe those are the most important. The rest will be between me and God . . . but I'd love for you to hold me accountable for those words. If my letter begins to read differently in 2011, please tell me.

May my letter bring Him glory. Period.

-30-

The Real Battle

2010-12-28T08:49:00.002-06:00

Every January, millions of Americans enter the battle. You know, the battle of the bulge . . . or against the bulge, I should say.

It seems that there's nothing like a new year to get people energized about getting fit and eliminating a few of those unwanted pounds.

But, sad to say, we're all ignoring the battle that really counts.

This year, rather than making your physical health your only priority, why not focus on the spiritual? Because, as Oswald Chambers as so accurately put it, "The battle is lost or won in the secret places of the will before God, never first in the external world."

What is Oswald's point? He's talking about the battle against sin and temptation, and it's a battle we can only win if we first surrender our will to God in our personal time with Him. If we simply stumble out of our homes ill-prepared and unfocused, we will lose this battle every single time.

As Oswald goes on to say, "I must get the thing settled between myself and God in the secret places of my soul where no stranger intermeddles, and then I can go forth with the certainty that the battle is won."

If using the old Oswald quotes is confusing, let me make my point very, very clear: if you have a persistent problem with sin -- a battle that you never seem to win -- don't wait until you are on the computer to seek to withstand the temptation of internet porn. Or, if you struggle with alcohol, don't wait until you walk into the bar to decide whether or not you're going to stop drinking.

Whatever your struggle is, you can't wait until you are face to face with it to fight the battle. The battle will be won by getting before God, surrendering your will, and asking Him to give you the strength to find victory. Again, as Oswald says, "Nothing has any power over the man who has fought out the battle before God and won there."

Of course, maybe you feel like you've tried this . . . but I wonder if you've actually surrendered your will or simply asked God to do it for you. There's a difference you know -- surrendering your will means dying to yourself and your own desires and asking God to empower you to find victory. Asking God to do it for you is simply a cowards way out . . . you want to win, but you don't want to take responsibility for your actions, so you sit around and wait on God to perform the miraculous.

But I sincerely believe God is waiting for us to die to our desires in our own time with him . . . that is the way abandonment truly begins.

So, my friends, way not start the new year with the battle that really counts: personal surrender before God. You'll be glad you did, I promise!

No Toy For You

2010-12-26T14:29:00.003-06:00

Have you heard about the lady with the young, obese daughter who is suing McDonald's because of the nutrition in their Happy Meals?

See, here's how it goes, apparently: this mother has never learned to say no to her obese daughter. Obese daughter demands Happy Meals all of the time, apparently because of the toys. So this mother's implausible way of denying her obese daughter more fattening McDonald's food is to sue McDonald's for not offering healthier food with their Happy Meal toys.

Got that?

Only in 2010 America could that logic make sense. Only in a nation where no one takes personal responsibility could that flawed lawsuit even make it off the ground. But it will, friends. In fact, the city of San Fransisco has already acted on this premise, forcing companies to stop selling meals with toys included that do not meet a certain nutritional standard.

And it's all because parents apparently can't parent, so big brother -- that's the government, or a judge, or a lawyer -- must step in an intervene. Because childhood obesity is really McDonald's fault . . . certainly not a lack of exercise, or poor parenting, or overall poor nutrition.

It must be that stupid toy, or that big, yellow "M" on the sign, or somebody -- anybody else -- that's responsible.

I know, I know . . . it sounds ridiculous when I put it like this, but my guess is we all do this in some form or fashion. Christians, in fact, lead our nation in this kind of ridiculous behavior, in my humble opinion.

What do I mean? Oh, we say we want to make our marriage work, but then we dabble in pornography, or go to clubs on weekends when our spouse is out of town, or still talk to our high school sweethearts . . . and then we're shocked when the marriage hits the rocks.

We say we believe in the Bible, and then we act in complete contradiction to its principles and precepts . . . over and over again, day in and day out, in many sordid ways.

I could pick on certain sins that Christians seem to tolerate right now, but let's go a different direction. We are a people created to be a part of a local body of Christians. In the New Testament, Christ and the apostles just assume every believer will be a part of a church -- to do otherwise is to reject the standard of Scripture.

Yet so many Christians are on the outside looking in when it comes to church. And why? Oh, we have our excuses. Maybe somebody treated us wrong, or our pastor had a moral failure, or the parking lot is too crowded, or they are always asking for money -- the list of excuses is long and sordid.

But, at the end of the day, the Word of God is still clear: "Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself up for her, so that He might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, that He might present to Himself the church in all her glory, having no spot or wrinkle or any such thing; but that she would be holy and blameless." (Ephesians 5:25-27).

The local church is a crucial part of our spiritual growth and we were created to be a part of it. We exclude ourselves from its fellowship only at our own loss. So, in 2011, why not put aside your past hurts and excuses and get plugged into Christ's church?

If you've given up hope on your current church, try a new one. If you haven't been anywhere in a long, long time, get started. And, if you're like the mother blaming McDonald's so that she no longer has to take responsibility, just stop it.

God knows better, you know better, and you'll be better off if you just step up to the plate and give the church another try. The New Testament just assumes every believer will be a part of a local church -- period . . . toy or no toy.

See you in church in 2011.

Where It All Begins

2010-12-23T09:39:00.002-06:00

The battle for Christmas receives a lot of coverage in Christian circles. You read a lot about the PC movement's desire to neuter Christmas into "holidays," and there's even more momentum nationally to eliminate the mention of Christmas in schools, public forums, etc.

But I think there's still a battle for Christmas that rages in each of our hearts, too. Yes, we all struggle with the curse of materialism that has descended upon the American Christmas celebration, but that's not the battle to which I'm referring.

I'm thinking more in terms of the miracle of Christmas itself. What was God doing on that day over 2,000 years ago? What was the point? What was really happening?

In the Christian tradition, we understand that Christmas is about the incarnation: the idea that God became a man and took up residence among His people. And we know that the incarnation foreshadows the Cross . . . that Jesus came, lived a sinless life, and then died an innocent death to pay for our sins. He was resurrected and He ascended to the Father, granting us the possibility of forgiveness, grace, and a future home in heaven.

All of that is true, and good, and amazing . . . but I still think we're missing something when we consider Christmas in that light. So, what are we missing?

I think we're guilty of the same oversight that has plagued the Jewish people since the Advent. We're missing the beauty of God's plan and the ludicrous move on the part of Father God to send His Son to us as an infant in a manager.

The Jews missed Jesus because He did not come as a warrior Messiah. Because He didn't defeat the Romans, clean up Jerusalem, and offer immediate power, wealth, and healing to all the Jews.

And yet modern Christianity is guilty of the same plague (we just disguise it in poor theology). We have also made the advent about getting power, wealth, and healing, dismissing the facts of the incarnation . . . that God Himself, in Christ, chose to come as a poor, innocent, humble child.

The incarnation is instructive because it models for us the kind of lives I believe the Father desires for His children. Jesus to not come to be served but to serve -- He did not come as a conquering king quite purposefully because He wanted to model for us a life of humility and sacrifice.

But few Christians understand what it means to live a life of humble sacrifice. Few preachers, pastors, Christian authors or even TV evangelists want to even think about servant leadership . . . in many ways, the very essence of the incarnation.

I, for one, deeply desire to be the kind of man that pleases my heavenly Father. And, as I grow older, I hope I've grown wiser -- I'm beginning to understand that I look the most like the Jesus of the Bible, the Jesus of the incarnation, the Jesus of my salvation, when I'm humbling myself and serving others.

I have been blessed with many incredible opportunities in my life, but I am desperate to remind myself of the brutal truth: I have been granted grace and mercy where I deserved nothing but judgment.

Every time I am granted the privilege to preach and teach the Word of God or to lead His Church in any way, I want to embrace the beautiful truth of my flawed humanity. On my best day, I am a mere shell of what God can do through me when I am totally yielded, totally submitted, totally desperate for the filling of His Spirit and the essence of Christ to be alive and well in my bones.

The same incarnation that took place on that dark night in Bethlehem is now available on a daily basis in my life . . . may I understand that the personal presence of Jesus Christ in my heart and life is the very best of who I am. The rest is but rags and the deceitfulness of humanity.

Come, Lord Jesus, come. Today, tomorrow, and every moment from now to eternity.

Judas' Kiss and Facebook

2010-12-21T09:06:00.002-06:00

I've never been a fan of the Facebook trend of "reposting" statements of love, faith, and affinity for causes. It's fine of you choose to do so, but it makes me think of Judas' kiss of Jesus on the night of the betrayal, if I'm being honest.

What do I mean? Well, this is my blog so I get to explain it to you.

When Judas came to Christ on that fateful night, Scripture records that he hailed Christ as Rabbi and then covered him with kisses.

In other words, Judas seized on a public forum to openly declare his affection for Christ . . . but the actions just masked what was really in his heart -- hatred, betrayal, jealousy. The kisses were just an effort at maintaining his standing among the disciples, but they did not reflect his true emotions.

How easy it is for us to give lip service to our faith, as well. You know you've read the posts and felt pressured to repost them -- it inevitably goes something like this: "If you love Jesus and want to live all of your life surrendered to Him, if you believe in the Cross, the Resurrection, Heaven and cottage cheese, you'll repost this or suffer the consequences of confinement on the ninth level of Hades someday."

Okay, so maybe that isn't a direct quote, but you get the picture. I have studiously avoided this reposting trend just because it seems so prone to hypocrisy. It's the same reason I never put an icthus on my car back during that popular trend . . . I always figured all of my credibility as a Christian would be lost the moment I cut someone off in traffic, or drove past them breaking the speed limit, or sped through a red light (by mistake or not).

Yes, Christ Himself called for us to be willing to profess our faith before men, but I don't really think He was referring to reposting a cheesy Facebook entry. It's entirely too easy to repeat some Facebook mantra to impress man while harboring an entirely different set of emotions in our heart.

Just ask Judas.

Friends, our hearts stand transparent before the Lord our God. He sees all. He is not surprised. And we need to cultivate an honest, loving heart before Him.

Post what you want on Facebook or Twitter or even on your blog. But, before you do, I suggest you look at yourself long and hard in the mirror and determine if what you are posting is an honest reflection of your heart. Otherwise, you're just putting on a show before man . . . and that's called hypocrisy. And it gets you nowhere fast.

Just ask Judas.

Been There, Done That: Living the Boomerang

2010-12-20T09:44:00.002-06:00

Have you ever felt trapped, like you were stuck reliving the same set of circumstances over and over, powerless to effect change?

Sometimes, life gives us a problem that requires solutions that are out of our hands. In all honesty, I'm experiencing one of these challenges in my own life, and it's stretching me more than I ever could have anticipated.

I'm accustomed to taking a situation by the jugular and handling problems until they go away or are defeated/fixed/solved. But my issue this time is out of my control . . . and every time it seems to be on the road to a resolution, a series of circumstances just sends it spinning back my way, like a boomerang returning to its host.

I'm reminded of one of the greatest scenes of such frustrated captivity in modern literature. In Eugene Sledge's phenomenal memoir of WWII, With the Old Breed: At Peleliu and Okinawa, Sledge has spent over two months in brutal, subhuman combat on the filthy, stench-ridden island of Okinawa. He has seen atrocities that would destroy the most hardened soldier -- and it did in many cases.

He had watched the Japanese strap dynamite to civilian babies and children, sending them into close proximity to the Marines so they could be exploded by gunfire. He had fallen into a hole with a decaying corpse and had the grubs and rotting flesh slide within his own shirt and dungarees. He had killed innumerable enemy soldiers in their suicidal Banzai charges, and he had watched many of his closest friends die.

But he endured the misery and soldiered on . . . until he received a letter from home (Mobile, Alabama). As he read the letter, he finally crossed his breaking point -- tears racked him and he lost control. The days and months of being forced to do things that no man should be forced to endure finally caught up to him and the captivity of his role as a Marine in the Pacific overwhelmed him.

And what was in the letter, you ask? Sledge's mother had written him to tell him that his dog had died.

Reasonable or not, that information shook Sledge to his core. Yes, he had seen atrocities -- on a daily basis -- that made the death of his dog seem insignificant. But, as he kept telling his companions, that was his dog. He had raised it from a pup. And he should have been there to see it die. It was his dog, he kept saying, as if that explained it.

But life, the war, the Japs, the Marine Corp . . . you name it, all of those things had conspired to rip his life from his hands. Life was passing him by and he was trapped on a God-forsaken piece of muddy earth in the South Pacific and he had no recourse.

As I've reflected on my life and compared it to Sledge's plight, I've realized that I don't have too much to complain about. Sometimes, it's all you can do to simply make the mental note that, "Yes, life could be worse."

And also, I can't forget the fact that God is sovereign. When we encounter problems that are most out of our control, that is when God has an opportunity to prove Him Himself the most. He is big enough for all of our problems -- especially the ones that are bigger than we are.

But will I remember that the next time the boomerang strikes me in the head?

The Anti-Critic's Movie List

2010-12-18T09:24:00.002-06:00

I'm not a big fan of movie critics. As I've considered what serious film critics look for in the movies, here's what I've decided their priorities seem to be:

1. A "real" movie must end with a sense of hopelessness.
2. A "real" movie must be morally ambiguous.
3. A "real" movie must involve multiple homosexual characters who are actually more well-adjusted than any religious characters.
4. A "real" movie must contain more profanity masquerading as dialogue than the average American hears in two months, let alone two hours.
5. A "real" movie must send the message that all fathers are disconnected, ladder-climbing, unemotional, unloving morons.

I could continue this list, but I think we'd only get depressed. So, suffice it so say that I am not a serious film critic. Nor do I watch "real" movies. The movies I enjoy -- that I am about to list as my favorites for the year of 2010 -- fail to meet any of the above standards. In fact, my movies are so completely opposite the stated standards that I am about to reveal my utter foolishness as a viewer of film and life.

But, if you are a bit more like me than a serious film critic and you go to the movies to feel inspired and encouraged, to laugh, to escape the doldrums of life and feel for a moment -- if only for a moment -- that life has meaning, heroism is priceless, and the good guys will win in the end . . . if you live in the kind of fantasy world like I do, well, my movie list is for you. And here it is:

1. The movie of the year in 2010 for me was undoubtedly "Toy Story 3." There's really no rival. It's a beautifully done movie that invokes joyful yet nostalgic tears on multiple occasions. Forget the fact that it is animated -- there's more warmth, more real humor, more life lessons and emotion here than you'll find in any movie on the "serious" film critic's list. If you have children, you must watch this film with your family. If your children are all grown, you must watch this film to experience the catharsis of watching them walk out of the door once again. And it's a movie with heroes, and villains, and light, and darkness, and darkness becoming light. To be honest, it's in a class all its own.

2. My second favorite movie of the year is the most recently released film on my list: "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader," the third film in the Chronicles of Narnia series. It appears here because I have an inherent obligation to list any movie from the works of either C.S. Lewis or J.R.R. Tolkien on my list of favorites. This rule cannot be broken, simply because any film based on their books -- even poorly done -- will have more real truth embedded in it than any well-done worldly epic.

But this film does have charm. Lots of it. And it has plenty of action, humor, and adventure mixed among some of the best metaphors about spiritual warfare and finishing well that you'll see on the big screen, so go, enjoy it, and then read the book. You'll appreciate C.S. Lewis and the truth of the Gospel all the more.

3. My next film for 2010 flew a little under the radar, but I've got to go with "Secretariat." Disney has attempted to make some movies about real life heroes over the last few years (films such as "The Rookie," "Miracle," and "Invincible"), and this film follows that format . . . focusing partly on a horse and partly on the amazing lady behind the horse, Penny Tweedy. It's a fantastic, inspiring film based upon a true story, and I loved watching it with my daughter (she's also a horse-lover, so it was perfect). It's inspiring and fun . . . with themes of family, perseverance, and loyalty pervading it.

4. My fourth pick is another film that few people went to see in 2010: "Nanny McPhee Returns." My kids absolutely loved this charming film from England, and it followed in the footsteps of some of the classic children's films from the past, like "Bedknobs and Broomsticks," and "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang." Yes, it's predictable and cheesy, but it's also charming, witty, and heart-warming. If you're looking for a safe film without foul language, too much drama, or even frightening scenes, this is your film. My three children have never laughed so hard at dancing pigs, let me say that by way of conclusion.

I'd love to list a fifth film, but I don't have one that really stands out from the crowd. My crew enjoyed "Alice in Wonderland," but I can't give it a glowing review. "How to Train Your Dragon" wasn't bad, and "The Guardians of Ga'hoole" had its moments. The remake of "Robin Hood" was a good adult film and "Prince of Perisa" is a decent diversion if you can suspend your intelligence and quit looking for plot holes.

All in all, 2010 was a little light when it comes to classic films at the theater, but it had its moments. Perhaps 2011 will be better . . . and we know 2012 will be a stellar year because the first film in the two-part "Hobbit" series will preview. Until then, I'll just keep treading water.

Did I Say, "I Told You So?"

2010-12-15T09:00:00.002-06:00

Let's be honest, friends: sometimes, it's fun to say, "I told you so." It's so much fun that I can't resist doing so today.

Over the summer, I waxed a little snarky regarding Brett Favre and the Minnesota Vikings, Houston Nutt and the Ole Miss Rebels, and Rex Ryan and the New York Jets. All of these teams seemed to have issues at the top . . . leadership issues that I felt positioned them for failure.

And, shockingly enough, their seasons (with the exception of the Jets, at this point) quickly unraveled. Of course, the Jets have lost two in a row after a 9-2 start, so they may quickly follow in the steps of the Vikings and Rebels (oops, they are the Rebel Bears now, I believe).

The Minnesota Vikings were dogged by the controversy that they were catering to their aging quarterback, Brett Favre. There was a contained player revolt as other stars on the team began to resent the double-standard regarding Favre -- he didn't have to report to training camp, he didn't have to practice . . . you name it, there was a second set of rules for Brett.

Not surprisingly, this disunity cost the Vikings this year. In fact, it cost their coach -- Brad Childress -- his job. And the Vikings have already been eliminated from playoff contention after playing in the NFC Championship Game last year, their stadium is full of snow (the roof collapsed last weekend) and rumors abound that the team may be moving to Los Angeles. Oh, and I'm leaving out the allegations that Brett propositioned female employees from a previous team he worked for (and that's the kid-friendly version of the story).

I'd say, "I told you so," but I don't think the Vikings are listening to me and my paltry efforts at leadership lessons.

But the same could be said of the Ole Miss Rebels. I warned them when Houston Nutt decided to bend the rules and bring in Jeremiah Masoli, a QB kicked off the team in Oregon for questionable/illegal conduct. It's the kind of thing that rips out of the heart of a team, when potential thugs are made leaders without proving themselves.

And guess what? Ole Miss's season was a disaster from the start, including a loss to a Division I-AA team, Jacksonville State, and only four total victories for the year. I'd say, "I told you so," but I know for a fact that Houston Nutt never stops talking long enough to hear what anyone else is saying.

And, finally, we come to the NY Jets. In the off-season, their coach -- Rex Ryan -- began developing a culture of crassness. He cussed like a sailor on steroids on national TV, mouthed off at all their traditional rivals, mocked other teams, applauded childish antics from his team, and generally encouraged immaturity from his squad.

In the wake, the team has been accused of sexual harassment by a news reporter, they've had multiple players suspended by the NFL for off-the-field issues, and now (I know this is shocking), they've been forced to suspend a coach for the remainder of the season because the coach tripped an opponent while the player was covering a punt.

Yes, you read that right: a Jets coach, while on the sideline, stuck out a knee, injuring an opponent, and interrupting the game. And, as the investigation continues, it appears that the move was a planned action involving at least four coaches creating a wall near the sideline as a way to disrupt the opposing team's punt coverage.

It's classless, it's petty, and it's unprofessional . . . all words that continue to sum up the NY Jets. And, after an off-season of mouthing at the New England Patriots, their bitter rivals, and boasting of what they were going to do to Tom Brady and his teammates, the Jets just finished getting their heads handed to them on a platter two weeks ago. The Pats dismantled them, 45-3.

Hmmm, anybody think they see the hand writing on the wall? I'd say, "I told you so," but I know Rex Ryan can't hear me over his verbal wall of profanity.

To make a long, pointless story somewhat meaningful, let me sum up this post this way: leadership all starts at the top. If you want a football team to be successful, I believe you have to have quality leaders. If you want a business to be successful, you need to abide by the same principle.

And this principle is certainly true in church . . . leadership counts. It all starts at the top. And, of course, this puts tremendous pressure on leaders -- they must be willing to live by different standards, to go the extra mile, to put in the extra time, to be above-average in everything.

Is this fair? Fair or not, it's how group dynamics work. You will only go so far as your leaders will take you. If you aren't prepared personally to live by an extra set of standards, to do what it takes to be the best and to be above reproach, don't seek to be a leader in your church or community.

And, if you are looking for a church to be a part of (or a football team, a business, or anything else, for that matter) I'd look for one with quality leaders, one where everything starts at the top. Because, friends, it all starts at the top -- and you can quote me on that.

A New Definition of Wisdom

2010-12-13T10:31:00.002-06:00

In my foolishness, I thought I was wise.

Seriously, friends.

For years, it's fair to say that I've been a big fan of God's wisdom, but I'm still discovering on a daily basis that my understanding of His wisdom is limited, at best.

Yes, I love the book of Proverbs. It's not a stretch to say that. As a part of my daily routine, I love to read at least a chapter from the Proverbs, and I have sought a greater understanding of God and His Word for many, many years.

I sincerely think I've hungered to know Him, His Word, His wisdom, and then apply that to my life. And I think I've managed this, at least to some degree, and I think my life has certainly been the better for this pursuit over the last few decades.

But, just this past week, something I read in the Word of God challenged my perspective of God's Word tremendously. In the famous exchange between Solomon and God in I Kings 3, when Solomon asks God for wisdom, God does not actually call Solomon's request a simple cry for wisdom -- God calls it "discernment to understand justice."

Wow. Talk about a statement loaded with meaning!

Over the years, I've always seen wisdom as merely God's perspective and principles on life. I've sincerely believed that living life in the light of God's wisdom would protect me from harm and move me toward His will and even greater blessing.

I would wager that's what most Christians think of when we reflect on wisdom, but do you see how man-centered that definition is? I made God's wisdom all about my life, my results, my success . . . in retrospect, I almost sound like a "prosperity doctrine" teacher (which makes my skin crawl, friends!).

But look again at how God defined wisdom to Solomon in I Kings 3:11: "discernment to understand justice." It's a completely different perspective on wisdom, in my opinion.

If God's wisdom is actually the ability to bring His justice to bear in every situation -- the ability to choose the outcome that allows His glory and nature to rule and reign in everything -- then I've just found a life-changing paradigm.

Okay, so maybe that's overstating it a bit. I've always believed in the preeminence of God and His glory . . . but I've never actually equated His glory to His wisdom. But, from now on, I will.

I no longer want His wisdom so that I can choose the best outcome . . . I want His wisdom so that His justice is done, so that He is high and lifted up, so that God is glorified and magnified. And, as the book of James tells us, when we pray a prayer for that kind of wisdom, do we really think God will refuse us?

He will not! May God's justice be done in your life and mine!

And, thankfully, we can pray this prayer under the cover of His mercy and forgiveness, in the name of grace, so that we are safe under the cover of His sheltering love. Again, may His justice be done in my life and yours.

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

2010-12-11T10:24:00.003-06:00

Can you imagine that a book written in the wake of WWII as an allegory of the Book of Revelation would be a box-office hit in politically-correct 2010 America? Well, if you can't, get ready to be surprised: the latest installment of the Chronicles of Narnia, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, is going to be all of that and more.

As a fan of C.S. Lewis, I have enjoyed the Narnia movie series. Yes, it has been easy to quibble, especially as the script writers neutered the Christian imagery from the second installment, Prince Caspian, for the most part, but I haven't reached the point of rebelling against supporting the movies.

I like to keep things in perspective and, at the end of the day, I've been grateful that a legitimate movie studio was spending real money to bring these wonderful books to the big screen in an acceptable fashion . . . neutered or not. As an avid reader of Lewis' books, I've had no problem bringing the spiritual themes to light with my children, regardless of the depth of the scripts.

But, with the latest installment, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, you won't have to work very hard to see the spirituality. As I indicated earlier, most scholars agree that the book is a loose allegory of the Book of Revelation, dealing with seven fallen lords of Caspian's kingdom (rather than seven sleeping churches), a final, earth-changing confrontation with evil (replete with truth about the way Satan tempts, lies, and lures us to abandon truth) and a possible passage into Aslan's country (i.e. heaven with Christ).

Those themes aren't just latent . . . they are right there for easy viewing. Even a child will get them, which is half the fun.

But, lest I digress, let me point out this: the film is fun. Lots and lots of fun. Of course, the acting might not be nomination-worthy, but when you are dealing with children and lots of special effects, is that really a fair complaint? There's plenty of humor, action, drama, and -- as previously stated -- fantastic life lessons and spiritual truths.

If you're going to see one movie over the Christmas break, whether you are young or old, let me suggest you take in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. You'll be entertained by the brave mouse Reepicheep, if nothing else. But you'll also see your spiritual warfare with the Enemy in a vivid light, you'll be encouraged to trust God's design of your life just as you are, and you'll receive a little taste of heaven . . . just enough to make you wonder what's behind the curtain.

And, oddly enough, you'll perhaps be moved to tears as a talking lion tells a talking mouse that he is welcome behind a giant, stationary wave -- that's movie magic, my friends.

The Cost of Being Oblivious

2010-12-08T08:57:00.002-06:00

Earlier this week, I was spending a little father/son time with my two boys when we encountered the unexpected. While sitting in McDonald's, enjoying their new Transformer action figures that came with their Happy Meals, my boys got to watch a grassfire erupt.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a vehicle ramp the street curb and cut through a grassy island at the front of the McDonald's lot. It was gone in an instant, but I'm guessing that its muffler brushed the ground and the grass burst into flames like dry kindling.

In an instant, the flames were four feet high and my boys were mesmerized. And the motorist -- in classic Mr. Magoo fashion -- drove away, likely completely unaware of the damage they had wrought in the their wake.

My boys and I had a cat-bird's seat for what followed. The fire was contained in a grassy island surrounded by asphalt, so I never feared for our safety. But the flames grew pretty high and the smoke billowed out across the parking lot and toward our safe seat.

In a few moments, a fire truck arrived on the scene and the firefighters proceeded to extinguish the flames and make sure the fire was contained. It was over in just a handful of minutes, but traffic backed up on Hwy. 7, the firefighters labored in the heat and smoke, and many customers of McDonald's were inconvenienced.

And the motorist responsible is likely still oblivious of what happened. They were probably texting or making a phone call and simply lost control for a second. Perhaps they were blushing as they drove off, or perhaps they were cursing.

It struck me that we're all that motorist from time to time. How often do we say something to a friend or family member and then walk off, unaware of how our words cut, or hurt, or damaged those to whom we were speaking?

How often have we done something -- something apparently innocent or innocuous -- only to find out over time that it was actually the tip of a messy iceberg . . . had we been more aware or more wise, we would have never taken that first disastrous step.

But we all live in Mr. Magoo's world sometimes, myopic, self-possessed, and shuttered within our own petty perceptions. It's why we need to pray for God's wisdom in our lives, so that He might allow us to see thing through His eyes or through the eyes of those to whom we're speaking.

Oh, Father, protect us from being oblivious . . . may we see others as you see them. May we care for others as you care for them. And may we never use our own selfishness as an excuse to blunder blindly through life, setting fires in our wake and hurting those we're supposed to love.

Momentum

2010-12-07T13:35:00.002-06:00

As most of you know, I've become fascinated by the events of World War II and the lessons those years still hold for us today. So, of course, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to reflect on the anniversary of Pearl Harbor.

There are many things that could be written about that day in reflection, but I'm always struck by the way one event -- in a place few people had ever even heard of -- could so completely change the course of a nation and millions of people.

In the blink of an eye, years of isolationism were wiped away and America was plunged headlong into a bloody, life-changing world war. A national draft became the rule of day, and college students became warriors, young women became widows, and rationing of goods and services managed to impact the everyday life of practically every American.

Pearl Harbor changed the entire course of a nation. It put pressures on the fabric of society, speeding up both sexual and racial equality in factory labor and service in the armed forces, and, of course, it sent a nation scurrying back to its oft-neglected religious roots.

It's hard to imagine any event in modern times creating such a tidal wave of consequences for every member of American society. People may try to argue that the attacks on 9/11 mirrored Pearl Harbor, but talk to any veteran and anyone older than 75 and they'll tell you that such an opinion is shallow, at best.

America's fabric and core were challenged on that infamous day in December of 1941, for good or ill. But, as history demonstrated, an incredible momentum began that day, a tidal wave of patriotism, bravery, and self-sacrifice that changed the future of the world.

It would be nice -- without the bloodshed and brutality -- to see the same display of courage in America today. Some would call it revival. Perhaps you could call it renewal.

One way or the other, I think we could agree that it is necessary. From a spiritual perspective, the lives of Americans are in neutral, and we drift along, following the latest fad, the latest flash of materialism, the latest trend . . . and God remains in the shadows.

How we need a decisive moment in our history to create a momentum for God! Of course, we can't cause this to happen and we would be crazy to pray for tragedy to usher it in . . . so what can we do?

Why not pray for revival, starting with our homes, our families, and our lives? If you were to allow God to purify your life, stripping away all of the unnecessary elements and leaving you with what really matters spiritually, what would your life look like?

Where would a state of battle-readiness take you? How would you change? What kind of momentum could you create around you if you embraced this challenge?

Oh how I pray that this kind of momentum would strike me, my family, my friends, and my church in 2011. May it be a year in which we pursue God's glory more fully and more faithfully . . . and may we learn these lessons without a sneak attack like Pearl Harbor.

Who's with me?

A Shopping Primer

2010-12-04T13:32:00.004-06:00

If you come to this blog in order to stay on the cutting edge of Christian music, please accept my apologies: you'll get none of that here.

But, if you live deep in the woods and have not accessed the web since its inception, there is the possibility that you'll find my music recommendations for 2010 helpful. Or, perhaps, they'll suit Crazy Cousin Eddie's style . . . either way, I felt I should deliver this list prior to the conclusion of the Christmas shopping season.

So, drumroll, please! Here's my top five Christian albums for 2010 (by the way, I have nothing against secular music, per se . . . I just don't listen to enough of it to come up with more than one or two albums. If it isn't by John Hiatt, I don't pay attention).

1. I'll confess that I couldn't narrow things down this year -- I actually have three first place albums for 2010 because there are three that I have not stopped playing all year long. So you're actually going to get 1a, 1b, and 1c . . . and all of this is still free, friends.

1a. Out of sheer loyalty to Andrew Peterson, I have to list "Counting Stars," released in July of this year, as my 1a selection. In all honesty, it's not near as much fun as selections 1b and 1c, but his incredible lyrics continue to throw his music over the top. If you have not heard, "In the Night, My Hope Lives On," you have not lived in 2010. It is, hands-down, the best written song of the year, moving through the entire Scripture and evoking incredible images of the Savior in both the Old and New Testaments. "The Reckoning" comes in a close second, reminding us of the thin line we all walk between judgment and grace. All in all, you can't go wrong with Andrew Peterson. Ever.

1b. Matthew West's "The Story of Your Life" moves into this slot. Released in October of this year, this album quickly became a favorite of mine. The music is so clever, so fun, simply so encouraging . . . it's just a pleasure to listen to this record. But, lyrically, West hits a home run, zeroing in on everyday struggles and issues that are sure to resonate with every listener. Lyrically, "The Reason for the World" is the album's best statement, explaining the incredible balance between God's grace and the doctrine of suffering. But the song "One Less" is an incredible ode to adoption, and "Survivors" is an anthem directed at cancer survivors. He also addresses poverty, divorce, and child abuse in this rich, yet upbeat record. Try it out -- you won't regret it.

1c. Mercy Me comes in here with "The Generous Mr. Lovewell," released in May of this year. Obviously, everyone loves, "I Can Only Imagine," but I'll be honest: other than that song, I haven't followed their career very closely. But this album is a tip-of-the-hat to pop music of the 80s, and it was flat fun to listen to . . . probably even more fun than West's contribution in 2010. If Huey Lewis and the News had done a Christian album in 1986, I'm betting it would have sounded like this. If that doesn't sell you on this selection, I have no power to compel you to purchase this record. And if you don't know who Huey Lewis and the News are, well, you're young. Or too old. Either way, what are you doing reading my blog?

4. Sanctus Real's "Pieces of a Broken Heart" comes in as my fourth-favorite record of 2010, released in March of this year. Santus Real is considerably "harder" than the above selections, mainly because they are more electric-guitar driven than any of my other selections, especially the folksy Andrew Peterson. But if you like a little modern rock with your Christian lyrics, you won't be able to beat Sanctus Real. The lyrics are still audible and solid, and the music is compelling, too. Their song, "Lead Me" has become an anthem for Focus on the Family, and deservedly so -- it's fantastic and quite a challenge to every dad and husband out there.

5. Finally, I'll finish with Jeremy Camp's "We Cry Out," released in August of this year. It's a great collection of praise and worship, but done with considerable more "drive" and attitude than one would typically expect of modern praise and worship. I like my Chris Tomlin, etc., but Camp seems to have a little more attitude, and I like it . . . too many praise and worship songs sound repetitive and stale to me, but you can't say that about Camp. His version of "Not Ashamed" is a fantastic song.

So there you go -- my five favorite albums of 2010. If I've bored you, please note this fact when I write my blog about my five favorite movies of 2010 . . . it's bound to be even less riveting.

Newton's Law of a Scandal

2010-12-02T21:58:00.000-06:00

First off, let me issue the following disclaimers: I do not know Cam Newton personally, I hardly know even the basics of the allegations against he and his father, and I'm certainly no expert on NCAA regulations.

So, to be fair, I'm in no position to render a verdict on his current "scandal" involving an apparent pay-for-play scheme.

But I do find it interesting and disheartening that so many people want him suspended immediately (and, please trust me - my status as a Razorback fan has no bearing here). I spent five years in college pursuing a degree in sports journalism and that background - not my Razorback loyalties - compels me to write this.

Let me be frank - if we are going to suspend every Division I athlete who has a parent, family member, or close friend who tries to parlay their star status into some inappropriate benefits, we'll be opening Pandora's box. Many, many innocent athletes will be caught in the wash of that witch hunt and their professional futures and college degrees will die swift deaths.

And let's be honest here: the same part of our culture that creates sports idols also teaches them that they are special and entitled, and if they somehow aren't infected by that disease, there's certainly few ways to prevent unethical or impoverished family members from seeking to improperly benefit from their stardom.

Despite the fact that the NCAA is a multi-billion dollar business, I have personally witnessed its ability to confer degrees and successful post-collegiate careers on student athletes who otherwise would not have been able to afford a college education and the opportunities that education subsequently provided. Call me naive, call me crazy, call me what you will - but that's a beautiful thing.

I know there is no perfect system. I know there are always con-men lurking around the corner. But the appearance of guilt has never been guilt in our country, and I like to think college athletics has the ability to change lives, sometimes the kind of lives that have grown up around drugs, crime, and scandal - and I, for one, admire it for that ability.

The Cam Newton scandal has quickly become about nothing more than football, money, and the national championship to most people, but that concerns me. There are literally hundreds -- if not thousands -- of athletes who may find themselves walking in Cam's shoes soon if this continues to swell in significance and I would like to think they would all get the benefit of the doubt and an opportunity to get an education, etc.

But I haven't read of anyone covering this side of the story, and I find that sad and myopic. But maybe I'm crazy - once the law of a scandal takes over, the feeding frenzy reigns and common sense and an actual concern about people goes out the window.

Spiritual Warfare Made Simple

2010-11-29T10:23:00.002-06:00

I certainly don't profess to be an expert on spiritual warfare -- let's be clear on that from the very beginning. But I do believe the Enemy is real, and I certainly believe every day is filled with spiritual conflict of which we are hardly aware.

But, despite my non-expert status, I do have strong opinions on this subject. I grow fatigued and even angry with the typical view of spiritual warfare that is presented on TBN and other forms of Christian broadcast . . . so many of these hyper-faith teachers/life coaches come across as self-serving versions of the Church Lady from 1980s Saturday Night Live, in my humble opinion.

Ephesians 6:10-17 is as a close to a simple, clear example of spiritual warfare as we get in the New Testament and it is worth noting that Paul emphasizes the battle for truth over the battle against Satan.

In putting on the spiritual armor, we must start with the belt of truth. And then we add the breastplate of righteousness, the shoes of the Gospel, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit (the Word of God).

Oddly enough -- at least in comparison with all of the bold, brash demon-slaying we see modeled on TV, etc. -- virtually all of the armor is defensive in nature. God's plan for our spiritual warfare is for us to wrap ourselves in His truth, His righteousness, His good news to man . . . so much so that we innately find ourselves able to diagnose and dismiss the lies and destructive temptations from the Devil.

In spiritual warfare, I believe a simple prescription would serve us all well: know God, allow His truth to control our hearts and minds, and we will find victory more often than not. Period.

You can go on the spiritual offensive and throw around the sayings the demon slayers like to use over and over, claiming spiritual territory, challenging the Devil in the name and blood of Jesus . . . rah, rah, rah.

But I don't suggest that. I suggest we follow the Biblical pattern of surrendering to the truth, fleeing the lies, and allowing God's righteousness, grace, mercy and truth to provide the victory in your life.

In this way, you'll win so many more spiritual victories than you could ever imagine, and God will have done all of the fighting on your behalf . . . and He will receive the glory while you hardly even understand what happened.

That, my friends, is a Biblical model you can hang your hat on, in just about every area of your life. Unless you like to be the center of attention. Unless you like to take credit. Unless you like to boast of your faith and power.

If you like those things, you've already lost the battle to embrace the truth. You'll soon lose the war, too, if Paul and the New Testament are to be believed. And, my friends, I'm placing my faith in the truth of God and His Word . . . not my abilities as a demon slayer.

May God find me humble, righteous, and surrendered to Him and His truth. And if I'm found in such a manner, I believe I shall also be found victorious.

Christmas with the Family

2010-11-28T20:19:00.002-06:00

Several times a year, I'm struck by the power of being a part of a body of local believers of Christ.

As a minister, I often walk through times of sorrow with families who have lost loved ones, and I always emerge on the other side sincerely confused by how families not involved in church manage to cope with loss and tragedy. When you watch a parade of church friends drop by, bring food, share hugs, and generally demonstrate the love of Christ, you're humbled and overwhelmed by the sense of community at a time when a family needs it the most.

But, even though the church shines through in tragedy, the second occasion that always stands out to me is the opposite side of the coin: celebration. My church family makes the Christmas season an incredible time of the year . . . so much so that I can't imagine Christmas without all of the events I've grown accustomed to with my church family and friends.

From watching the Advent observance each week in church services, to the annual musical/Christmas drama from our church choir and orchestra, to participating as a family in the Living Nativity on the downtown square, to giving to the Lottie Moon Christmas offering for World Missions . . . there just seems to be one tradition after the other that helps make the holiday special.

And, of course, there are the get-togethers and parties. We have one as a church staff (the full staff, from those who unlock the door to those who preach), we usually have another as ministerial staff families, and then we have Christmas parties for the deacon body and for both the Sunday School classes I get to teach. And we have a special couples night for the Bunko group my wife plays with during the year . . . with strange prizes I can't mention in this blog space.

All in all, these things combine to make the next 25 days or so incredibly special. This time of celebrating the birth of Christmas is draped in the warmth of the relationships I've gained by being a part of His body on the local level -- and it's a joy and privilege that words simply cannot capture.

Christmas truly is my favorite time of the year, and I'm confident this year will be more of the same. It's just what the body of Christ does . . . and I love it! And I sincerely hope you'll give a local church near you an opportunity to become a personal expression of the love of Christ during this special time of the year -- I promise you that you won't regret it.

A Final Reminder

2010-11-26T08:00:00.000-06:00

I can't resist dealing with a little self-promotion one final time, just because I'm getting ready to spend four hours at Hastings' in Russellville and I'll be really, really bored if no one stops by.

So please mark your calendars for this Saturday, from 12-2 and 6-8 p.m. (which conveniently brackets the Razorback game, by the way). I'll be at Hastings' signing copies of my new book, Cords of Shadow, and I'd love to see a few of you.

And, honestly, don't feel pressured to buy one of my books . . . just come keep me company. As I've often told people, just because you've written a book doesn't mean it is worth reading. I'm not in a position to recommend my own book -- I just don't have that kind of chutzpah, but I do know I'll be lonely if I don't see a few friends.

Of course, many of you do wonder what my books are about, which is a difficult question to answer. How do you sum up an entire book in a pithy answer? I honestly don't know how to do it . . . but I can tell you what I tried to do with this book.

This time around, I've tried to write something that contains a few chills (since the demonic realm is real) a few laughs (because we have to laugh to keep ourselves sane) and some realistic depictions of the truth of the Cross (because it is truth).

I've swirled all of that around in a strange sort of supernatural souffle set in the early 1990s with college students as the central characters (which mirrors when I was actually in college). I've tried to walk a tenuous line between realism, supernaturalism, and sarcasm . . . and who knows if I've pulled it off?

Perhaps you'll just have to read the book to know for yourself. Or not. Or just give it to some other people for Christmas. Or not.

But, one way or the other, send someone from your family to Hastings' on Saturday to fritter away a few moments with me from 12-2 and 6-8 . . . otherwise, I'll look incredibly lonely and unsuccessful.

You'll know how to find me -- I'll be the guy sitting alone at the table full of books. And you can only pretend to read your own book so many times before you start to feel conspicuous.

A Glass Half-Full of Emptiness . . . or Something Like That

2010-11-22T09:16:00.002-06:00

As a classic pessimist -- you know, a glass half-empty kind of guy -- I've realized that I should actually be quite good at Thanksgiving.

Seriously.

Why, you are surely asking? Why should a pessimist ever look on the bright side and actually be thankful for all the ways he or she has been blessed by God?

Well, here's what I've realized: unlike everyone else, I typically go into every year expecting the worst. Asteroids falling from space? Could happen. An engine from a C-130 airplane dropping off and landing on my house? Could happen. Train derailment flattening my car? Could happen.

See, I like to consider all possibilities, especially the really bad things. If there's swine flu, I assume I'll get it. If there's a financial meltdown, I figure my money will turn to silly putty in my hand. If there's a potential for disaster, I assume I'll be the poster child.

So, as I'm approaching Thanksgiving, I must admit that last year was a pretty good year, even by my glass half-empty standards. Nothing tragic happened to me. My worst fears weren't realized. And The Hobbit movies are still getting made, after all.

And, in a serious vein, God understands my pessimism (even though I do not believe He appreciates it, by the way). In fact, I believe the Scripture calls for God's children to be realists, not optimists. God does not promise us that only good things will happen, but He does promise that even the bad things, the difficult things, the curveballs will eventually work out to our good, if we'll but trust Him.

So, I'm practicing my realism this Thanskgiving. God was good to me over the past year, both in what did and did not happen. You may only count your blessings; I, however, am going to count disaster averted as a part of my bounty.

How's that for turning a weakness into a strength?

Word of Mouth

2010-11-19T08:07:00.002-06:00

Friends, to be blunt, I need your help.

My latest book has finally seen the light of day, but I don't have a major publisher placing ads in the newspaper, or dropping ads onto the internet, or selling awkward product placement spots to the daytime soaps.

I've just got you and me, of course.

If you have read my previous two books and enjoyed them, please feel free to forward this blog and the information it contains on to your friends or post it on your facebook page. It's really the only advertising I'll get.

As before, my book is available locally through Hastings' and Vintage bookstores. You can also purchase directly from me . . . so don't hesitate to call me or drop by church. And, on the web, Wordclay is the best place to purchase right now. Amazon, Target, and Barnes and Noble are still working on getting the book into their system, but it should be available around Thanksgiving.

Also, my first big book signing is scheduled for Saturday, November 27th at Hastings' in Russellville from 12-2 p.m. and 6-8 p.m. I'm indebted to the management there (thanks, Angela!) for giving me a slot on such a huge shopping weekend -- don't hesitate to come by just to keep me company or to buy a few books as Christmas gifts.

As for the book itself, well, I always have a difficult time describing my writing. Many friends have said my novels remind them of some of Frank Peretti's early works, and some say I remind them of Ted Dekker . . . and I'm certainly flattered by both comparisons. But this book probably will be a bit of a departure from my first two.

Why? Well, rather than a historical setting such as the Great Depression, the book is set in the early 1990s. Of course, this means there are many references to the music, events, and trends of that era, which just so happens to be the same time I was graduating college. There is more humor in this novel, which probably makes for an uncertain tone, alternating between the world of the demonic and the world of sarcasm -- but it was fun to write.

Obviously, if you want to read an excerpt from the book or the dust jacket for more info, you can check out Wordclay's book site or view my author page at FiledBy. You can get the scoop there.

And once you get the scoop, please feel free to pass that info on to someone else. And someone else. And maybe even someone else. Word of mouth . . . it's the only advertising I can afford.

Dogs Versus Cats

2010-11-16T16:01:00.002-06:00

I'm sure you've heard the old theological debate that revolves around the personality of dogs and cats. If you haven't, here's the quick breakdown:

A dog says: you pet me, you feed me, you shelter me, you love me, you must be God. But a cat says: you pet me, you feed me, you shelter me, you love me, I must be God.

It's an interesting concept, and it can be fun to explore . . . but how people react to it often depends on their perspective on dogs and cats. Dog lovers think it's perfect, because it honestly tends to present dogs as the better pet. Cat lovers tend to think it's a bit heavy-handed and demeaning toward cats, theology aside.

As with most anything, your perspective tends to change how you interpret the analogy.

Oddly enough, I think you could say the same things about the current debate about Christianity and the social gospel movement. For centuries, there has been a divide between the evangelical community and the social gospel branch of the church, with each side positing a different perspective on the teachings of Jesus Christ.

The social gospel movement advocates rightly say that Jesus Christ taught concern for the poor, the sick, the mistreated, the widows and orphans. The church cannot deny that truth -- the Scripture is clear about it.

But this social gospel movement has used this teaching to determine that it is the government's responsibility to step in and provide mechanisms of support for those hurting in our society, partially out of response to Christ's message.

This is where your perspective on Scripture begins to matter and matter greatly. Although I certainly believe Christ called for care and concern to be shown to those hurting in our society, I can't find anywhere in Scripture where a call is issued for the government to meet those needs. In fact, Christ issues such a call to a different organism entirely -- the church.

It is the church's job to minister to the poor, and the sick, and the mistreated, but not because Christ is concerned about everyone having the best clothes, the best jobs and the best homes -- no, instead, Christ is concerned about their eternal future.

When the church ministers to those hurting, the church is put in the best possible position to share the real Gospel -- the truth about Jesus Christ dying on the Christ to redeem sinful man --- with hurting individuals. I do, indeed, believe in a social gospel . . . but only as a means to share the real Gospel.

In participating in this kind of ministry, I do believe my heart should be full of concern and compassion. I can't just share the Gospel with folks and then watch them return to poverty. I must help them. I must care. But I also must not ignore the fact that Christ is more concerned with whether or not we will spend eternity with Him than with what kind of clothes we wear or how big our house is.

You, too, must decide which it will be. Is Christ more concerned about the souls of men or their financial status? Oddly enough, Christ answers this for us in Matthew 16:26 when he asks, "What good will it be for a man if he gains the world and forfeits his soul?"

So I'm not a dog guy or a cat guy or a social gospel guy -- I believe the bride of Christ is called to care for people and to care for them sacrificially and generously, but not because money solves their problems . . . but so that we may best share Christ with them.

Because this life is brief and fleeting but our eternal destination matters FOREVER. The souls of men are always going to be more important than their education, their job, and their pocketbook.

And, to tiptoe through politics again, I would also have to say again that Christ never called the government to run this ministry. I would much prefer to flip the current system -- let me give 10% of my income to the government to render basic services and let me give 30% of my money to the church to handle social needs and distribute benevolence assistance while sharing the Gospel of Christ.

I guarantee you the world would be a better place. Whether or not you like dogs or cats best.

Running Scared

2010-11-15T08:33:00.002-06:00

The picture I've posted with this blog reminds me of myself when I was a young man. I remember watching my first scary movie at the movie theater with my hands covering my eyes, desperate both to ignore the film and watch it at the same time . . . fear dominating my thoughts.

Sad to say, it wasn't a classic thriller like Psycho, or The Exorcist, of even Jaws -- it was The Legend of Boggy Creek, a cheap, almost homemade story of the Fouke monster supposedly roaming Saline County, Arkansas.

The problem was that my family lived in Alexander, a suburb outside of Bryant. And Bryant was squarely situated in Saline County. The Fouke monster (a Bigfoot derivative) seemed all to real to my young mind, and the movie -- with its frightening possibilities -- scared me to death.

I quite literally had nightmares for weeks, even months. In many ways, this experience has prevented me from watching horror movies in the years since. I just don't understand giving any film the potential to affect your thoughts, dreams, and even sleep.

But that doesn't mean I've eliminated fear from my life. In fact, fear is always present, and that's disappointing because God's perfect love is supposed to cast out fear.

Earlier this week, I read in Oswald Chambers' devotional that all fear is evil, and I have to reluctantly admit I agree.

If we truly worship a sovereign, all-powerful, loving, incredible God, what exactly do we have to fear?

I continue to learn day by day that my fears are unsupported by Scripture. In fact, in Scripture I encounter a gracious God that is working all things out for my good -- even the hard things, the bad things, the disasters.

Fear is irrational when lined up against Biblical truth . . . but that doesn't mean fear is dead in my life. But I'm continuing to do battle against this evil every single day by continuing to study the Word, seeking to understand my loving, omnipotent God -- seeking to know His character, His nature, His love.

The bigger my God gets, the smaller my fear becomes. If you, like me, are tired of running scared, I'd suggest you turn your fears -- rational or irrational -- over to the Creator of the Universe.

I believe He's big enough to handle them. Don't you?

This Blog Will Self-Destruct in Three, Two, One . . .

2010-11-09T15:37:00.003-06:00

I've both wanted to write this blog and avoided it for several weeks. The entire subject has a strange tension to it with which I've grown tired of wrestling.

And, on such occasions, I've always felt that total honesty is the best policy. So here goes: I want to praise one of the most humble guys I know. In his best interests, as soon as you read this, forget what you read . . . please?

I'm referring to a member of our FBC Russellville staff team, Tommy Havens. Tommy has served in our church for almost 26 years as our Minister of Music and Worship and will soon be transitioning to God's next step in his life . . . ministry back in the public school setting as a teacher/instructor of music and choir (as well as the expansion of his more critical role as Granddad!).

Our church will miss him tremendously, but not because he was always the biggest ego in the room. Not because he took control of every stage on which he ever stood. Not because he was the most talented man in the church. Not because he was a dictatorial leader who had to exercise complete authority over every little decision in his grasp.

No, in fact, we'll miss him for the absolute opposite reasons. Tommy is a wonderful worship leader -- don't get me wrong -- but he is a much finer man. In fact, he is one of the most selfless and humble men I've certainly ever had the privilege to serve with on a daily basis.

Too often, the modern church demands its ministers to have egos to match the size of the ministries they direct, but such was not the case with Tommy. And, as he transitions in the coming months, there will be an undeniable void left in his wake, but not because he took up so much space or consumed so much hot air.

No, instead, the void will be there precisely because of his humble character. Because of who he was in Christ. Because of how he led through service and selflessness.

In fact, you might ought to forget I wrote this. I'm not sure I'm comfortable telling such a humble guy that I wrote a blog about his humility . . . the entire thing is a bit of an oxymoron, the more I think about it.

But I've said what needs to be said. Tommy Havens has always managed to make sure that the Lord Jesus Christ and the Father above gained the glory through his ministry, and that is an irreplaceable quality in a leader of God's church.

I am grateful for his friendship, his years of service, and the testimony of his willingness to see what God has in store for him in the years ahead. He is a rare, fine man . . . just don't tell him I said so.