Update

I have a smoldering fire in my soul to do...something. Pray that God hits the ignition switch and that He speaks and acts through me, whenever and wherever that opportunity may appear.

"Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?" And I said, "Here am I. SEND ME." Isaiah 6:8

Perception

A short preface: When we left Houston yesterday, it was 74 degrees and painfully muggy...to the point where loading presents into the car left me glistening with what I assume was sweat, but it felt more like funk from the air settling on to my body. Needless to say, escaping Houston was the best gift of all this holiday.

When I woke up this morning, Abby looked out the window and exclaimed excitedly: "It's snowing!" And sure enough, there is a howling, wet, cold, snowy mess congregating in the great city of Abilene. Cars, houses, roads, and people who stand still for too long end up covered in the white stuff, giving A-Town an ethereal look to compliment my first Christmas Eve as a married dude.

The funny thing is, I would go outside and walk around in this and revel in the goodness all morning. Coats and hats are beautiful things. My wife, and the rest of my family, would rather sit inside and watch it through the windows, almost like a zoo where it's fun to look but not touch. The snow is an inviting, beautiful gift from God to me, and a wet nuisance to everyone else. It's all in the perception.

So imagine you are a member of the 1st century Jewish elite (I know, not a hard stretch is it?) and you're waiting for a sign from God, ANY SIGN, that His promised Messiah is coming. You start to hear reports of a child being born, angels visiting, and strange cosmic harbingers that maybe, just maybe, will signal the end of the suffering and oppression. And then, you finally make it to Jerusalem and find this child...and he is a poor child born in a barn to an unwed mother who supposedly is a "virgin." You may be a Jewish priest and not a physician, but you know thats unlikely at best.

You would be crushed! This isn't a king, a warrior, a Savior! This is a weak, poverty stricken child whose father is a carpenter! And then later on, he becomes a carpenter, meaning he took up his family's trade and probably passed on being a true rabbi, which at the very least should be a necessary step in leading the Jews to salvation. This is a waste of time and a waste of hope...another year gone without help from a supposedly caring God.

On the flip side, imagine you are a poor Jewish person, or even later on, a Gentile believer, who has been excluded from society and never given an inch of anything in your life. You are under the regime of a tyrannical king who would just as soon kill you than actually fix your problems. You've been told there is a Savior, a new King, who has come to save EVERYONE. He specifically mentions the poor, the meek, and goes out of His way to love those who may have never felt love. This is a ruler, with power and authority, who gives His life in order that everyone may spend eternity with Him. This is an amazing gift, and a sign that God truly cares about us all!

Jesus' life is all about perception. Those who had a set idea of what a Messiah was "supposed" to be were disappointed and gave up. Those who saw the gentle carpenter for what He was--the embodiment of love and peace--had abundant life.

So when you see Christmas, and specifically see Christ in other people, do you see a nuisance, or do you see love? What is your perception of Christ and His sacrifice?

"Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor. Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me." Luke 7:22-23

Flat-Lined

For a long time, whenever I discussed art history I basically skipped from the earliest known records (like the Venus of Willendorf...woof.) right past the Middle Ages and straight to the Renaissance. The Renaissance harnessed the Classical power of the human form noted in amazing Greek and Roman sculpture with a new-found respect and love of color: vibrant, rich, passionate hues that give life to those lucky enough to be captured by them. From then on, it was always Renaissance, Baroque, Romantics, Impressionists, etc., etc., until the Fauvists and Modernists made me aesthetically unhappy.

Upon further reflection, however, the art of the Middle Ages possesses more than I ever wanted to give it credit for revealing. There is something to be said for the passion and love of showing a rudimentary, yet loving, Christ. The Middle Ages produced art that was flat, fairly monotone in color, and completely lacking of dazzling depth or style. Even the composition was a bit stunted. And yes, it's 2-D, something James Cameron would surely scoff at and mock. Yes, the colors leave something (or everything) to be desired. But in those simplistic drawings and paintings, there is love. There is the pain of a Savior in anguish, compassion of a Lord who loves the unloveable. I'm not sure Jesus would be comfortable with his powerful radiance in Raphael's Ascension or even being the center of attention in The Last Supper.

There's something to be said about a King who preferred peasants over worldly royalty, who picked poverty over wealth, who chose death over what the world sees as power. I think the various artists of the Middle Ages got that message--Christ was someone who preferred to be in the background, loving, serving, and giving. His message wasn't contained in the show, the color, or the presentation, but in the emotion and devotion behind the scenes. I think He would have been drawn to the flat, colorless, almost cartoonish pieces of art because they came from the heart.

In the same way, we need to get back to the heart of the matter in our service of God. Whether songs like Heart of Worship or the story of the Pharisees in Luke 11:

"Woe to you Pharisees, because you give God a tenth of your mint, rue and all other kinds of garden herbs, but you neglect justice and the love of God. You should have practiced the latter without leaving the former undone.

"Woe to you Pharisees, because you love the most important seats in the synagogues and greetings in the marketplaces.

Jesus is calling the Pharisees out because they care more about the show than the action; more about appearances than the heart. We have that problem today, the same problem I suffer in Art History: we care more about the outside than the inside, more about the pretty colors than the meaning. Jesus rages against that machine more than once, but its a message we let slip through our fingers all the time.

So here's to a flat, bland, disproportionate Savior, willing to do the dirty work and die so that I might live a deep, colorful, full life in His service. Amen!

"I hate, I despise your religious feasts;
I cannot stand your assemblies.

Even though you bring me burnt offerings and grain offerings,
I will not accept them.
Though you bring choice fellowship offerings,
I will have no regard for them.

Away with the noise of your songs!
I will not listen to the music of your harps.

But let justice roll on like a river,
righteousness like a never-failing stream!" Amos 5:21-24

Giving Thanks

My first holiday as a husband has been much more...entertaining?...than normal. For the entire week I haven't slept in the same bed two nights in a row, have gone from Houston to Canton to Plano back to Canton and then back to Houston, and worked much more than I wanted to, both on my school and my job. However, even with the chaos, I wouldn't trade it for anything. More responsibility means more stress, but it also means more things to be thankful for. So, in no particular order, here are my things for which I am thankful:

*My God...for loving me even when I'm not worthy.

*My wife...for the same reason.

*My family...both the new members and the old. You all make life exceptionally better!

*My job...being able to provide for all of the above.

*My friends...for being able to talk about football and life from hundreds of miles away.

*Everything else that I either don't feel like listing out or have forgotten.

So for everything...thanks.

"Now, our God, we give you thanks, and praise your glorious name." 1 Chronicles 29:13

What if...

The weird thing about going through the Bible verse by verse, in an academic sense, is that the little idiosyncrasies stick out like sore thumbs. Verses that we usually skim over, because they don't make sense or don't seem to add much to the story become flashing bright lights. Stories that are obviously connected flow together like a river of God's love for us instead of the little water bottles of refreshment we usually get.

Just the other day we read the story of Aaron's staff budding. We usually use that pericope to talk about how God chooses us and stands behind us and blah blah blah...all great points, but missing a little bit of what God is getting at. Right before that story, Korah, Dathan and Abiram rebel against Moses and, to make a long story short, are disposed of in creative ways. The big three are swallowed up by the earth, which then promptly closes back over them, effectively burying them alive. Their council of 250 elders is burned up by the fire of the Lord, and everyone who complains because this happened is hit with a plague. So we have earthquakes, fire from heaven, and plagues, and nothing seems to phase the Israelites. They still complain just as much as before, are still indignant, and generally don't change demeanor at all.

Aaron's staff buds because God is trying to silence the complaining and bickering. In fact, He says the reason this happens is to prevent the Israelites from dying. They've pushed Him so far that He's about to snap and He wants to control His anger. The weird thing is...THIS is the instance that causes the Israelites to go bonkers! Almonds growing out of a piece of dead wood! Giant chasms in the earth, fire raining down from heaven, killer plagues...meh. Almonds? RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!!

I can't get over the pathetic nature of the Israelites. Every story we read, the farther we delve into the story of the Israelites, the more and more depressed I get reading about their ignorance. I can't fathom how stupid they must have been to see the miracles and love of God with their own eyes--miracles and wonders we can't even imagine--and still want to walk away.

Oh wait. Yes I can.

My freshman year of college I went with some friends and my family to see !Hero the Rock Opera, a modern day telling of the birth of Christ. Set in Bethlehem, PA instead of Israel, it shows exactly how our world would react to a modern-day Savior. We'd build him up using the media, then tear him down and dispose of him. On the way home, we talked about how we would respond if we were there...simple question: Would we believe? Sadly, the consensus answer was no.

I think the reason the Israelites irritate me so is because I know how they feel. I see God everyday, whether in large miracles or small whispers, and yet there are times everyday that I turn against Him. That I stop listening to Him. That I let myself get in the way of His plan...that I get freaked out by almonds.

I have got to stop letting the world get in the way of my relationship with God. He throws earthquakes, fire, and pestilence at me, but I still ask questions and fight Him. And when my faith is weak, something small and innocuous (like almonds!) can drop me to the turf. Good thing I don't have to ask "What if..." I know God is alive and His Son died for me.

That's refreshing enough for me.

"This is the confidence that we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us." 1 John 5:14

Transcendence

I've watched two very different football games in the last 24 hours. I'm writing this before the UT/UO (yes, it is the University of Oklahoma. They go by OU because they can't spell) game ends because if it goes south, I'll spew vitriol and that's not the point.

Last night we had the Westbury Christian homecoming game against Lutheran North. Unfortunately for the festivities, we got trounced 40-12. The men played hard, but between injuries and academic issues, we were just undermanned. It was a valiant effort. What struck me is that the outcome of the game seemed to not really affect the demeanor of the crowd and the student body. At the Chocolate Bash afterwards, there was a palpable sense of excitement, even though the guys were disappointed. We had a fantastic crowd, the kids were playing around and talking, the faculty stayed up past 10 o'clock for once (and didn't complain too loudly)...it was a great time. We knew that there was something more important in life than the outcome of a football game, even if it's the homecoming game.

On the second drive during the Texas game today, Oklahoma quarterback Sam Bradford, an amazing QB, Christian, and friend to Colt McCoy (the UT quarterback and his biggest rival), was hurt again. In the first game of the season he hurt his shoulder, and worked extremely hard to get himself back into shape to play this game. My initial reaction? To clap my hands and cheer. And I can guarantee I wasn't the only one.

What is wrong with us? Why is an injury to a young man with a bright future cause for celebration?

We spend a lot of time as Christians talking about being in the world, not of the world. However, we feel like there are certain areas that we can discard that motto...sports, business, the movies we watch, whatever it might be. I can pray for someone with cancer, but if a rival blows his knee out and ruins his career and future? Bust out the foam fingers! I can give 15% at church, but if an opportunity comes to abuse something to make bigger profits? I can give 18% now! Don't lust, except when its a movie with an attractive young actress? Let's see it twice!

I appreciate Westbury for teaching me about transcendence. There are certain things that just aren't as important as we make them out to be.

Now if you'll excuse me, Colt McCoy just threw a pick. I need to go pray.

"What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?" Mark 8:36

Sacrifice

We've reached the second Passover in my OT class. It's been a year since the awesome and awful power of God freed the Israelites from their slavery in Egypt through the plague of the Firstborn son, and the Israelites are called to reflect on everything they've endured (which includes, but is not limited to: starvation, dehydration, death, plagues, idol worship, war) and where God has led them.

In Numbers, there is a discussion between Moses and a few of the Hebrews about the Passover and a small problem they have: they're unclean. They have come into contact with a dead body and will not be ceremonially able to observe the Passover until after the appointed time. God declares that they are to observe it a month later, but otherwise change nothing. A few verses later, a warning is fired off against people who ARE able to observe the Passover, but choose not to do so. It is decreed that they will be cut off from the community (bad) but also will bear the consequences of their sins (way way worse) due to their indiscretions.

This led to a discussion of sacrifice in one of my classes. We talked about the perfection required in the animals and how God needed something perfect in order to redeem the sin we have committed against him.

I can't imagine a world in which every thing I did wrong required a different sacrifice, and because of that, I thank God for the perfect sacrifice to free us from the bondage of sin and God's wrath: His Son. Without flaw, without imperfection, and without guilt--the only thing capable of bringing me back to God's side, a horrible death so that I might have life.

Thanks Jesus...we owe You.

"Therefore I will give him a portion among the great, and he will divide the spoils with the strong, because he poured out his life unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors. For he bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors." Isaiah 53:12

Flow

It is a comforting fact that after 2 years of Biology stuff, I was incredibly bored and burned out, but after two years of Bible, I'm still fascinated by the way that God has moved in our lives and in our history to perform His miracles and enact His plan.

Writing my first real paper in over 10 months has gotten me a little bit skittish...I feel dumb, I feel like I've forgotten more than I remember, and most of all I feel inadequate. However, as far back as I can remember (we're talking 2nd grade here), all of my best work has come from a single spark or idea, whether it was poetry or papers or essays or even Minutes for Frats. There'd be one idea that ended up unleashing a flow of ideas and work. The one idea for this paper is how Jeffersonian politics motivated and shaped the foundations of the Churches of Christ. And while that sounds boring to you readers, it fascinates me...which will hopefully lead to some great revelations about our history as well as myself.

Even though I know how this is going to work out--because I have what, 17 years of results to back it up?--it's still unnerving to not have a concrete plan all the time. And that's what has motivated me in my Bible classes at WCS...every verse, every word, every story is an intricate, passionate telling of God's great plan for us. Stories that I've always heard out of context (yay for youth ministry...) now fit perfectly into the tapestry of God's vision for us and assume a whole new vibrant life. Nothing is wasted, nothing is extra...its the best story ever told.

And it all started with a single spark of love.

"For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever should believe in Him would not perish, but have eternal life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through Him." John 3:16-17

Void

I feel this overwhelming urge (the Spirit's prodding?) to write something here, but I have no idea what. The last week and a half has been a disastrous combination of OT, Acts, dress code, school policy, Abilene, the Ft. Worth Stockyards, Midland, moving, teaching James, making new friends, setting up a classroom...and the chaos hasn't even started yet. That'd be tomorrow morning at 7:15. In the words of Jason Allen--yippee!!

It's fitting that I just got to Galatians in my overview of the year. Paul spends most of the book arguing for his competency and authority, and that's about how I feel right now. I had mothers ask me where else I had taught, I had students that don't speak much English, and I had people ask me seeming basic questions about the Bible.

I feel like I'm behind the proverbial eight-ball...but I have NO idea who's holding the cue. Part of me knows that every move I make is being watched by everyone and his or her dog, but I know I'm up for the task. Part of me feels like the pressure is self-inflicted--I have 105 students and the Word of God as a textbook--but I'm not so sure that's a bad thing.

So here I sit, less than 24 hours from the start of a grand, new, completely God-led adventure, and I have no idea what to say.

"May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer." Psalm 19:14

Pinball Wizard

So let's recap the last year or so:

August '08--Abby moved to Houston. I asked her parents for permission to marry her. They said no. I convinced them.

October '08--Proposed to Abby.

December '08--Unknowingly finished my last full semester at ACU

January '09--Moved to Houston, started work at Grace Crossing

February '09--Turned 24

May '09--Got married/got new job at Westbury/found new apartment by Galleria

July '09--Started moving into new apartment while attempting to finish summer

August '09--Started new job at Westbury


So...needless to say, I've bounced around a bit. I've been begging for a break, a bit of consistency, and when I mention that I can't wait for the school year to start so I can finally calm down, most teachers laugh at me. Not sure what that's all about.

I do know that in spite of the chaos and the seemingly breakneck nature of my last solar revolution, God has control over me and my life and is directing me to where He wants me to go. He won't give me more than I can handle without giving me a way out...namely my wife and prayer. He provides always.

"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not be in want." Psalm 23:1

Hematophobia

Friday night at church we had a game and movie night, which had more to do with games than movies, but whatever.  There was a phenomenal turn out from both parents and kids alike, and I think everyone had a blast.  We also had our fair share of excitement and injury, which seem to go hand in hand with youth ministry.

During a basketball game that I can only assume was mind-blowingly epic, Gabriel O'Neale went up for a shot and somehow managed to relocate Brandon Boos' nose all over his face.  Tremendous amount of blood. Like, I'm not sure how he was still up and walking. 

Anyways, after he realized his life force was slowly (or not so slowly) leaking all over himself, he went inside to clean up.  In his wake was left two door handles, a sink faucet, and a paper towel dispenser covered in the red stuff. I mean COVERED. Being the biology major (and sane adult) that I am, I immediately went to attempt to locate some bleach for cleaning purposes.  Blood doesn't clean up so well with wet paper towels, as it falls under the bio-waste category.  I was met with a bizarre reaction from the other adults though...mockery.  They claimed I was grossed out by blood, afraid of blood, that Brandon didn't have any blood-borne diseases so who cares, etc.  I cleaned it up anyways, then whooped up in Bananagrams, irritated but not enough to care.

Tonight, however, we had worship time where we took communion.  As I drained my Dixie cup and thought about Jesus' blood, I noticed the inside of the cup was stained red and I flashed back to Brandon.  One thought stuck in my mind.

Since when did (the) blood cease to be a big deal?

In second grade I got hit in the head with a rock and thought I had gone blind because I had so much blood running down my face.  My sister saw me and proceeded to have a minor heart attack, as did my parents.  My cousins would faint if someone got a paper cut. In horror movies, blood was a reason to freak out beyond all realms of sanity.  But if a kid starts leaving bloody fingerprints all over our new(ish) youth room? Nothing to sneeze at.

Thanks to shows like ER and Scrubs and Grey's Anatomy and what-have-you, we no longer care about blood. It doesn't affect us like it used to.  The same can sadly be said about Jesus' blood.  Thanks to the Gospel of prosperity and an increased focus on missions and giving the Word to those who otherwise would never hear it (one of those is good, one bad. You decide) we've lost touch with how freaking amazing the idea of the cleansing power of Christ's blood is.  I'm in no way saying that missions are bad, but we always have to remember what is at the core of that desire to spread His love--that I once was sinful, lost, and doomed to an eternity in Hell, separate from God, and then an amazing sacrifice happened, blood was shed, and now I am free and eternally loved.

So yeah...blood is a big deal, whether from Brandon's nose or from my Savior.  One needs to be cleaned, the other does the cleansing.  

Pretty incredible for a biohazard.

"But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God's wrath through him! For if, when we were God's enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!"  Romans 5:8-10

Refreeze

The image of a meltdown is popular.  Whether its the girl with overactive emotions losing it and crying for hours and hours or a two-year old deciding something just isn't right and screaming at the top of his or her tiny lungs or Bob Knight throwing furniture across the court mid-tirade, we see people lose it and in the midst of their primal displays, we feel empathy.  A little amusement, some annoyance depending on the setting, but usually empathy.  We've all been there, at wit's end, ready to scream/cry/break/throw/punch or whatever verb fits your personality.

Within the next 25 days (sweet mercy...25 days...) I will put on the first retreat I've ever planned from scratch, teach 15 junior high boys about sex, finish planning a wedding, participate in that wedding, find a job for next year, find a place to live, finish up a couple of papers, and whatever else is going on that I (of course) have momentarily forgotten about.  I'm going to be under a world of stress with everyone I've really ever known watching.  Sweet.  In the immortal words of basicinstructions.net, "Heat, pressure and time...three things that make a diamond. And also, good waffles."

The fun thing is that we all seem to treat these meltdowns as world ending events.  We will NEVER recover from the disasters we currently find ourselves in. I will NEVER get these projects done. This will NEVER work.

Ha.

As far as I can tell, I've survived all the crises I've faced in my life.  Sometimes, nay, usually I even do it with flying colors.  God lets us linger in the crucible because it purifies us.  As we often talk about, when things are going well, we forget Him and assume we're doing it all ourselves.  When things get rough...we suddenly need God to help us. As if He hasn't been there all along.

So yeah, I might meltdown here in the coming weeks.  But God will freeze me back.

He always does.

"I waited patiently for the LORD; 
       he turned to me and heard my cry.

 He lifted me out of the slimy pit, 
       out of the mud and mire; 
       he set my feet on a rock 
       and gave me a firm place to stand.

 He put a new song in my mouth, 
       a hymn of praise to our God. 
       Many will see and fear 
       and put their trust in the LORD.

 Blessed is the man 
       who makes the LORD his trust, 
       who does not look to the proud, 
       to those who turn aside to false gods.

 Many, O LORD my God, 
       are the wonders you have done. 
       The things you planned for us 
       no one can recount to you; 
       were I to speak and tell of them, 
       they would be too many to declare."

Psalm 40:1-5 (Read the whole thing...it's amazing.)

Sunrise

Let's face it...I am NOT a morning person.

I love me some sleep.  At any time, but especially in the morning, usually during class. Some people sleep better when its raining; I apparently sleep better knowing that everyone else is in the class I'm skipping. 

I have, however, had my fair share of early morning experiences.  Whether it was getting up early for trips or playing golf with my grandpa or staying up too late on the phone and getting to see the other side of night, my childhood had its sunrises in it.

I grew to appreciate those moments even more working at Trek, where every week we'd get up earlier than Apollo to begin our assault on the designated peak.  Cold and stiff, there would be a slow march up the side, through the valley, or across the ridge, until that glorious moment that the sunlight decided to enrobe us in warmth.  Every one of those sunrises was beautiful, indescribable, and a rejuvenation to our souls.

Today's sunrise is different though.  As I look out the windows of the church, I'm haunted by the fact that sunrise brings uncertainty, and the beginning of a very tough battle for an already-weary brother.  We will need it's warmth and energy in order to engage this enemy head-on.  After seven and a half hours, we finally reach the front lines.

Fight on Tate.

Fight on.

^"The Mighty One, God, the LORD, 
       speaks and summons the earth 
       from the rising of the sun to the place where it sets.

 From Zion, perfect in beauty, 
       God shines forth."  Psalm 50:1-2

Update

We're on hour 3.5 of the prayer marathon, and I must say, I'm very impressed with the attitude and devotion of the church.  Getting up in the dark, when it's raining, in order to come up to the building alone and spend time in prayer for someone you may not even know very well is a pretty amazing testimony.

As I've been sitting here, the song "Swim" by Jack's Mannequin keeps coming to my mind.  I don't condone the band per se...they have a tendency to use less than wholesome ideals in their songs, but occasionally as I'm weeding them out I come across a gem like this one.  The lead singer and front man, Andrew McMahon, had a battle with leukemia that almost killed him.  After he won the battle, he wrote "Swim" about his struggle:

You've gotta swim
Swim for your life
Swim for the music
That saves you
When you're not so sure you'll survive
You gotta swim
Swim when it hurts
The whole world is watching
You haven't come this far
To fall off the earth
The currents will pull you
Away from your love
Just keep your head above

I found a tidal wave
Begging to tear down the door
Memories like bullets
They fired at me from a gun
A crack in the armor
I swim to brighter days
Despite the absence of sun
Choking on salt water
I'm not giving in
I swim

You gotta swim
Through nights that won't end
Swim for your families
Your lovers your sisters
And brothers your friends
Yeah you've gotta swim
Through wars without cause
Swim for the lost politicians
Who don't see their greed as a flaw

The currents will pull us
Away from our love
Just keep your head above

I found a tidal wave
Begging to tear down the door
Memories like bullets
They fired at me from a gun
Cracking me open now
I swim to brighter days
Despite of the absence of sun
Choking on salt water
I'm not giving in
I'm not giving in
I swim

You gotta swim
Swim in the dark
There's no shame in drifting
Feel the tide shifting and wait for the spark
Yeah you've gotta swim
Don't let yourself sink
Just find the horizon
I promise you it's not as far as you think
The currents will drag us away from our love
Just keep your head above
Just keep your head above
Swim
Just keep your head above
Swim, swim
Just keep your head above
Swim

"For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through endurance and the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.  May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give you a spirit of unity among yourselves as you follow Christ Jesus, so that with one heart and mouth you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ."  Romans 15:4-6

Tate

Driving through the streets of Houston at midnight, one gets a feeling of calm, almost as if the city has worn itself down and needs to rest, just for a while, in order to recover for the following day's unstoppable frenzy of activity.

Today, however, it's impossible to feel as if all is at rest.  In the midst of the darkness and the serenity, a war is beginning.

Tate Martin goes under the knife today, and we've scheduled a day of prayer in his honor, to guide, comfort, and defend him.  And if we think it's going to go smoothly or quietly, we are very wrong.

I can feel the battle around me, as the protectors and assailants of our faith begin to fight each other.  And not a battle of words, but a fight for us: scratching, clawing, slashing for one second of either focus or distraction, repeating itself on towards eternity.

Today is going to be harsh, it's going to be long, and it's going to be draining.

And we're going to win.

"The Lord will march out like a mighty man, like a warrior he will stir up his zeal; with a shout he will raise the battle cry and will triumph over his enemies."  Isaiah 42:13

Soul Meets Body

Victor Durrington is a great man.

It may seem strange to some to mention him in the present tense.  He passed away yesterday, March 5th, at 7:40 pm.  To be sure, the world is a slightly dimmer place without his light in it.

However, to confine Victor to his broken earthly vessel doesn't do justice to the man.  Blessed with intelligence, a gentle spirit, and an easy smile, he touched everyone he came into contact with, even if they didn't know they had been in touch.  Whether it was his generosity in giving Jenna and me our house for college, which has in turn blessed 8 other people (and counting), or his fun-loving attitude that accounts for my ability to throw left-handed (we'll get back to that), the "man" Victor is more than just the man.  

I will always think of him as the person who let me drive in the parking lot when I was just 12, or the look on his face when our rope swing snapped and I plummeted to the ground, not sure whether to call the ambulance or burst out laughing.  I have a fairly severe fear of heights, but spending afternoons on the roof with him was usually one of highlights of my summers in Abilene.

And playing catch in the backyard.  Oh how I loved playing catch.  I wasn't blessed with great size or speed or a rocket arm, but I could always catch.  And he loved throwing the ball around more than anyone I've known.  We'd make up games, throwing backwards and off the roof and with our weaker hands.  I'm a natural righty, but I can wing it left-handed with the best of them because Victor didn't laugh at my awkward attempts to coordinate my lanky frame.

The human Victor couldn't play catch towards the end.  As I was given the news that the end was nearing, I prayed for healing and that God would free him from his prison.  In a moment of interaction with the divine, as I uttered the words "Take him home God," a gust of wind hit me, reminding me that God is found in the still, small voice.  Thirty minutes later, after he passed, I started imagining his joy at being healthy again, having a body that will never break down, never grow old, never succumb to the restrictions of this fallen world ever again.  And then I imagined him playing catch in heaven, with Vicki, his daughter, and his mother, and all of his friends.

And then I imagined Victor looking up, beckoning for the return throw, as a lanky Jewish carpenter from Nazareth tried to figure out how to throw left-handed, laughing at himself, but receiving nothing but encouragement from my grandpa.

Victor never was his body. The body may have failed, but the spirit, melded into one with the Spirit of God, lives on eternally.

Victor Durrington is a great man, and I can't wait to see him again.

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!"  2 Corinthians 5:17

March

Sometimes you just don't know what to write.

Psalm 100

A Thanksgiving Psalm

"On your feet now—applaud God! Bring a gift of laughter, 
      sing yourselves into his presence. 

Know this: God is God, and God, God. 
      He made us; we didn't make him. 
      We're his people, his well-tended sheep. 

Enter with the password: "Thank you!" 
      Make yourselves at home, talking praise. 
      Thank him. Worship him. 

For God is sheer beauty, 
      all-generous in love, 
      loyal always and ever."

Age is NOT just a number

I just had a weird revelation handed to me in the face of Oel Castner, one of the spiritual titans here at GC4.  He reminded me that Jesus began His ministry at the age of 30...or, in other words, 6 years older than I am right now.  You can't even use the myth of adolescence here, because in ancient times, people were treated as adults EARLIER than they are now, which means Jesus spent most of His adult life growing in stature and understanding before He started His ministry.

All the bumps and bruises (both literally and figuratively) that I am accumulating working as an intern are growing me and guiding me towards Him and to a better relationship with my Creator.  I need to stop getting so torn up over little mistakes that won't matter at all a week from now.  Learn and move on...it's not supposed to be like flipping a switch.

As Oel said, "allow Jesus to lie you down beside still waters, not rushing rapids.  Seek peace...seek Him."

Amen.

"I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety."  Psalm 4:8

We need more people professing their faith like this.  Thanks Bryce.

"Whoever acknowledges me before men, I will also acknowledge him before my Father in heaven."  Matthew 10:32

Stand By Me

I will readily admit I ripped this from Kendall Massey...but it's awesome, and I don't think he'll mind a little extra publicity for it.

"So will it be on the earth 

       and among the nations, 

       as when an olive tree is beaten, 

       or as when gleanings are left after the grape harvest.

They raise their voices, they shout for joy; 
       from the west they acclaim the LORD's majesty.

Therefore in the east give glory to the LORD; 
       exalt the name of the LORD, the God of Israel, 
       in the islands of the sea."   Isaiah 24:13-15

Apologizing to a Book

This may be one of the weirder posts I ever do. Which, if you know me, is interesting, because I'm pretty much a weird guy. But here it goes.

I have disrespected the Bible, and for that I am truly and deeply sorry.

It's easy in the course of graduate school work to see the flaws in the book we call the Bible.  Stuff doesn't make sense, there are some suspect editing choices, stories that contradict each other, gaping holes...it's so tempting just to dismiss it as a human book trying to capture the Divine. 

But we can't do that. There are two ways to look at the Bible:  either it is the inerrant, inspired Word of God, breathed down to writers who copied down the exact words of the Almighty, or it is the words of man with the Spirit of God as the guide and inspiration, but ultimately just a collection of religious thoughts of the day and stories. Stories with a good intent, but stories nonetheless.

Since 2 Timothy 3 reads "All Scripture is God-breathed,"  I'm going to go ahead and throw out the second option.

We so often try to cram God into our little mind-shaped boxes, to make Him fit and make sense in our understanding of Him.  When we read something in the Bible that makes NO sense (try Genesis 6-9, the flood story. Big ball of contradictions.) we immediately think that whoever wrote the Bible messed up or there was an editing issue (which there was) or a translation problem (also likely)...but we never, even for a moment, consider that maybe we're just too dense to get it.  We take great pleasure in reading about how stupid the disciples were; they had the chance to see Jesus' work firsthand and they still messed up.  But we never think we could be guilty of the same mistakes.

Our interpretations of the Bible have evolved over time with what we learn from archaeology, history, language, sociology, anthropology...we've been wrong before (see: Church, Women's Role in) and we're going to be wrong again.  

As we move along, gain more knowledge, we will be able to more clearly see the timeless truths in front of us.  The Bible isn't going to suddenly "fix itself" because of how much we learn...it's pretty much going to stay the same. As it has for years upon decades upon centuries upon millennia.  Our interpretations will change however, and hopefully through responsible work and scholarship, we will move closer and closer to the Truth God desires us to find in His book. 

But the problems lie in us, not in the Word of God. 

So for being dense, arrogant, self-centered, disrespectful...any number of flaws...I apologize Bible.

We should spend more time together. 

"And we have the word of the prophets made more certain, and you will do well to pay attention to it, as to a light shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts. Above all, you must understand that no prophecy of Scripture came about by the prophet's own interpretation. For prophecy never had its origin in the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit."  2 Peter 1:19-21

Drop Kicks

I've played basketball for a long, long time.  Granted, those first few years couldn't really be recognized as actual "basketball," because, well, I was terrible, but the equipment stayed the same.  I've tried to bounce shots off cars, out of cars, off my house, from my street, tried to use a t-ball bat to hit shots in (ask me about that sometime, it's hilarious), shot left-handed, right-handed, two-handed; I've tried everything.

At least I thought I had.

When I was in 4th grade, my grandpa took me to see the Harlem Globetrotters.  They did something I hadn't yet dreamed of: the dude dropped kicked a basketball from half court and made it.  Combining sports, soccer and basketball fused into a moment of excellence and mind-blowing skill (and obviously luck) that left me stunned.  

Needless to say, at my basketball game later that night, I tried this mighty feat in warmups.  Almost killed innocent bystanders with the errant boot and almost killed grandpa from laughing too hard. 

From then on, every couple of years or so, I'd get the fire in my belly and want to try again. And inevitably, I would fail miserably, hope no one was watching, and go back to regular basketball.  I eventually got to where I was pretty good at the roundball; won a championship or two, could have probably played for my school, etc.  I got to college and stopped playing regularly and lost my game, and now it's just a fun pastime that I'm not very good at anymore.

My junior year of college I went to Manchester, NH on a Spring Break Campaign, and the first day we had a 24 hour youth group lock in.  By the time church ended on Sunday, we had all been up for a little over 40 hours and were zombies.  The kids were still running amok and we tried to keep up with them, and somehow in the midst of cold and rain and muck we got dragged outside to the basketball "court" in their parking lot; a slanted, potholed blacktop with under-inflated, slick basketballs and a hill on the other side that made errant shots run a good distance away from the court.  After playing around for a bit, I decided that if I didn't sit down, a trip to the ER would soon be on the agenda to take care of my exhaustion.  While walking away, back to the warmth and cushioned chairs of the indoor kitchen, a rebound rolled out to me, a good 40 to 50 feet from the goal.  

And for some reason, I just turned around, picked it up, and punted it.

And swished it.

Everyone just froze in shock, including myself.  The parents, kids, and my fellow campaigners weren't quite sure what to do with what they had just witnessed.  I kind of yelped in celebration, remembered my strong desire to sit down, chuckled, shrugged, and went inside.

Twelve years of attempting this ridiculous sports feat had finally culminated in success, and I was too tired to really appreciate it or celebrate. But all it took was that one time...freak circumstances, bad weather, goal built on the side of a hill, a dozen other factors that made it unlikely that that attempt would finally bring me sweet release from the Globetrotter demon.

I'm reading the book "Just Walk Across the Room" by Bill Hybels, talking about how we can change peoples' lives in the span of ten steps, taking the chance to go talk to them about life and hopefully Christ if the opportunity presents itself.  He relates stories of freak trips where he met people on the side of roads, at dinner parties, at his son's soccer games and because he kept trying, he eventually was able to share the Greatest News of All (sounds better than Good News) with them in one freak random moment.

It may not be when we expect. We may be tired, we may have the odds stacked against us, but God desires to use us in His plan.  If we really do believe what we say we believe, and if we really do view it as a matter of altering eternity, then shouldn't that effect the way we handle life every day? Pray for strength, pray for courage, and pray for opportunity.

And keep kicking.

"Then Jesus came to them and said, 'All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.'"  Matthew 28:18-20

Ring Pops, Dirty Napkins, and My Own Selfishness

I have no idea what God helps us control and what is just crazy random happenstance.  If I lean over and pick up my pen right now (which I just did), did God push on my heart to make me do that? 

No clue.

What I do know is that when something weighs heavily on your heart, you better do it.  God's paths are always better than ours, and the fact that we keep ignoring Him is annoying.  A little depressing, but mostly annoying.  It's like having a voicemail from the Creator and waiting a few weeks to listen to it. It makes no sense.

For class Wednesday night I gave the lesson written out in my previous post, Ring Pops and Dirty Napkins.  It's been on my mind since I bought Abs' ring, about God and being chosen and the true nature of love.  I've also had this weight on me to read Titus.  Not sure why...I usually arbitrarily pick a book of the Bible and read through it. 

Titus is NOT a long book.  Three whole chapters to be precise...the equivalent of 5 pages in my study bible. And for some reason I just didn't do it.  Always found something better to do...talk to friends, sleep, play games, check sports updates, etc.  My bible even sat open for a couple of days to Titus and I never got around to it.  Still haven't actually.

However, I was just alerted to Titus 3:5, which says something to the equivalent of "God loves us because He is merciful, not because of our righteous acts," which sounds distinctly similar to what I taught about Wednesday night.  In fact, it's a great summary of my idea.

God tried to help me sum up my thoughts through His Word, and His words are always better than my words, but I was too selfish with my time to sit down and read it.

Sorry God.

What is God trying to do to help you that you're ignoring? 

"Your ways, O God, are holy. What god is so great as our God?"  Psalm 77:13

Ring Pops and Dirty Napkins

Rob Bell in his book Sex God tells a story about a junior high dance he went to.  We've all been there; guys on one side, girls on the other, a great chasm in between.  The problem is that in order to ask someone of the opposite gender to dance, you have to gather up the courage and boldness to cross that chasm before you even get to the task of asking. Rob finally decided to ask this girl he liked to dance, and after making the walk of shame, approached her, asked, and...she screamed, cried, and hid in the bathroom all night.

Now THAT is a confidence killer.

When you are in that situation, before the screaming and crying, there are steps to take in order to assure success.  You want to look good, make yourself as attractive as possible, right?

Now imagine that terror, only magnified a thousand times because you’re asking someone to marry you.

When I decided that I was going to ask Abby to marry me, I enlisted the help of my mother, who is incredibly thorough and helpful.  By the time I went home to make the actual purchase, she was basically on a first-name basis with every jeweler in the Greater Dallas area.  It was awesome.  However, after a few hours of looking at numerous stores, something just didn't feel right.  Nothing looked good enough, big enough, shiny enough...desirable enough.

And then it hit me.  I could never understand how people could think of themselves as the exception to the rule.  If God loves everyone and forgives all sins, then He loves everyone and forgives all sins!  The concept that God forgives everything EXCEPT my sin or loves everyone EXCEPT me just never clicked…until I started looking for that ring.  I knew Abby would say yes…I could have proposed with a ring pop and gotten away with it.  She loves me for me, not for the bling I pick out for her.  I knew this fact, and yet it was still a terrifying experience.  I thought I was the exception.  Suddenly I knew how everyone could feel like that…and I hated that feeling more than anything.

Which leads me back to the ring.

That was one of the most exhilarating, terrifying, exciting experiences of my life, and I’ve been to a Super Bowl. (Don’t tell Abby I just compared our engagement to the Super Bowl.)

Staring at case upon case, store upon store, of rings, gold, white gold, platinum, something called palladium…gave me an overwhelming sense of power and fear.  But I also thought that I had to find the PERFECT ring, that Abby would only say yes if the ring was worthy enough.  And you know what? I found it. Then I turned over the price tag. And gagged.  

Needless to say, I didn't get that ring.  I’ll get back to that in a second.

When it came to planning the engagement, I had an elaborate set-up at my house all put together involving something like 50 candles and a bowl of thimbles.  However, what wasn’t in my plan were the gale-force winds that prevented hardly any candle lighting, much less the little tea-light candles I had.  So I had to call an audible. Pictures are on facebook.

My perfect ring and my perfect engagement, both gone because of circumstances out of my control.  And yet she still said yes. 

Why didn’t I trust her?

More importantly, why don’t we trust God?  We are obsessed with trying to make ourselves more desirable to Him…but we can’t! He already loves us more than we could ever imagine just as we are.  In fact, in Romans 5, it says that He loves so much that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. 

The reason middle school dances, proposals, and ultimately giving ourselves to God are all scary beyond belief is that it makes us completely vulnerable. What we need to understand is that God loves us for us, not what we bring Him, not what we do for Him, and certainly not how attractive we are to Him. 

Isaiah 64 says that we have become as unclean, and all our acts of righteousness are like filthy rags.  Whatever we do to TRY to gain God’s favor is like the dirty towel you use to wash your car.  You can't earn God's love. It's just given to us freely.

The true source of beauty is revealed in 1 Peter 3: Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight.

Acts that come from the heart are gifts to God.  Just think...the Creator of the universe thinks that your heart is of great worth!  More than all the diamonds in the world or the mountains or the oceans...your "gentle and quiet spirit" brings Him joy. 

You see…it doesn’t matter whether you see yourself as a giant diamond ring or something as simple as a ring pop…God will ALWAYS say yes. 

You just need to ask Him to dance.

"Praise the Lord. Sing to the Lord a new song, his praise in the assembly of the saints. Let Israel rejoice in their Maker; let the people of Zion be glad in their King.  Let them praise his name with dancing and make music to him with tambourine and harp.  For the Lord takes delight in his people; he crowns the humble with salvation."  Psalm 149:1-4

Thank God for the 22nd Time

I thank God every day that I get to try again.  The idea that Christians need to be perfect, or that we need to do everything correct is just a lie.  And for the people who think Christians are hypocrites...yes, yes we are. 

I'm one of the worst. Nice to meet you.

The difference should be what we do with that knowledge.  Those who are hypocrites but deny it do nothing for the Kingdom.  However, those that recognize just what we are can truly become dependent on God, and through Him seek the power and grace that completely changes lives.

My name is Jason Henderson, and I'm going to screw up today.  And after I do, I will thank my God that there is a 22nd time. 

"'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me."  2 Corinthians 12:9

Adrenaline Rush

The body is full of wondrous chemicals.  We all have neuroreceptors that are designed to accept those chemicals, depending on what we are experiencing: thyroid hormone is released for growth, melatonin helps regulate our sleep cycles, etc.

The most commonly known hormone, in my humble opinion, is adrenaline.  We all know what an adrenaline rush feels like, whether from scary movies or extreme sports or harrowing situations.  Some of us seek out that rush; that's where we get thrill junkies or haunted house fanatics or what have you.  Adrenaline causes our bodies to immediately go into hyperdrive, enhancing senses and reflexes.  It's the fight or flight syndrome-when the rush happens, we become almost superhuman.  

I once drove by a car where a woman had inadvertently locked her baby inside, and she came screaming into the street trying to get us to stop so we, my friend Jacob and I, could help her.  Now, we're both grown men, but after prying and pulling we were unable to get into the car even half an inch in order to attempt opening it with a coat hanger.  Deterred, we moved to another door when all of a sudden we both heard "Is this open enough?" and looked up to see that this little, 5'2", 100 lb. woman had nearly ripped her driver's side door off of the car.  

Say what you want about my manhood, but adrenaline allows us to do some pretty awesome things.

The problem we face is that after a while, the receptors wear out.  It's like addiction; the reason addicts crave bigger and bigger doses or hits is because eventually they need more and more to achieve the same level of high.  The chemicals lose potency.  We're then left searching for something else to fill the hole.

It states numerous times in the Bible that God delights in us (Psalm 149:4), finds joy in us, and loves us.  If we are created in His image, shouldn't we seek out those same things?  If God delights in us, shouldn't we in turn delight in Him? 

Stop seeking the ultimate high from this world.  It doesn't exist.  And if you thinking being able to rip a car door off it's hinges is power, just wait until you see what my God can do (Job 38).

"But the Lord is the true God; 
       he is the living God, the eternal King. 
       When he is angry, the earth trembles; 
       the nations cannot endure his wrath.

"Tell them this: 'These gods, who did not make the heavens and the earth, will perish from the earth and from under the heavens.' "

But God made the earth by his power; 
       he founded the world by his wisdom 
       and stretched out the heavens by his understanding.

When he thunders, the waters in the heavens roar; 
       he makes clouds rise from the ends of the earth. 
       He sends lightning with the rain 
       and brings out the wind from his storehouses."  Jeremiah 10:10-13

Bruce Willis is Dead

...at the end of The Sixth Sense.  Calm down. I don't think John McClane could ever really die.

However, that moment, when you realize the plot twist, has captivated millions and millions of people.  Some viewers figured it out early on in the movie and decreed it rubbish, while others were so stunned that they don't remember the actual end of the movie.  Count me upon the latter group.

Now imagine the scene between David and Nathan after the king's little tryst with Bathsheba going much the same way.  Nathan is telling the story about the rich man who has much taking from the poor man with one little ewe lamb, and David gets more and more indignant, until finally Davey makes a ridiculous proclamation:

"David burned with anger against the man and said to Nathan, 'As surely as the Lord lives, the man who did this deserves to die! He must pay for that lamb four times over, because he did such a thing and had no pity.'"  2 Samuel 12:5-6

I can't even begin to fathom the faces of his court at that point.  Everyone else had to know Nathan was setting David up...they mostly knew what he had done.  Bathsheba is initially described to David as "the wife of Uriah the Hittite," (2 Sam. 11:3) so people knew who she was when she spent the evening with David while Uriah was away.  They're like the ones who figured out The Sixth Sense early; as the plot twists happen, they start looking around like "who hasn't figured this out yet?! This is ludicrous!" 

Then Nathan drops the hammer on David, announcing for all to hear "You are the man!" (2 Sam. 12:7)  David then falls into the second group of viewers: those stunned by the revelation, immediately lost and trying to figure out how things got so twisted so fast.

However, David's recovery is really the story here.  He immediately admits sin (11:13) and accepts the punishment God gives him for the transgression.  The end result of all this calamity is Solomon, whom God gives the name Jedidiah, which means loved by the Lord.

The result of the twist in The Sixth Sense is that Bruce Willis is able to move on and rectify the mistakes he left behind when he died.  What we should all realize is that God does this for us daily; the mistakes we make, the "David moments" where our horrible transgressions are brought to light, do not have to lead to chaos.  They can lead to growth, peace, and, as Jedidiah proves, love, if only we return to Him.

When you look at it that way, its not a plot twist so much as a divinely happy ending, no?

"Have mercy on me, O God,

according to your unfailing love;

according to your great compassion

blot out my transgressions.

Wash away all my iniquity

and cleanse me from my sin.

Create in me a pure heart, O God,

and renew a steadfast spirit within me.

Do no cast me from your presence

or take your Holy Spirit from me.

Restore to me the joy of your salvation

and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me."   Psalm 51:1-2, 10-12. 

A psalm of David, written when the prophet Nathan came to him after David had committed adultery with Bathsheba.

Spontaneous Combustion

Abby asked me the other day if I was a pyro. The answer is, um, maybe. Mainly I just like fire imagery.

A lot of the images I use involve sparks, matches, fires, etc...things that need help starting. Most chemical reactions are reliant on heat to begin. You need to turn up the Bunsen Burner, hot plate, etc., to get the job done. Think of cooking...what you put into the cake pan does not look like what comes out of the oven. At least it shouldn't. If it does, please step away from the baked goods and order take-out.

Some reactions give off heat after starting. You need heat from friction to start a match, but afterward, the burning gives off more heat than you put in.

Then there are the spontaneous reactions. Try putting baking soda into vinegar. I'll wait...

Now clean it up.

That didn't require any heat, did it? And it didn't give off much heat, if any, while exploding all over your room. So what happened?

Sometimes things just click. The basic nature of the baking soda and the acidic nature of the vinegar come together to make salts and hydrogen gas, resulting in an awesome display of bubbles.

I guess all that is to say, I'm happy at GC-4. It didn't require a lot of work from either end, but I have no doubt that God will do something incredible with this relationship. At times, it may not be as exciting as exploding household products, but it will be better in the end, because it will be God's.

"For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." Ephesians 2:10

If only life were like Batman

I turned on the TV at Jacob's house tonight to an episode of Batman, the greatest cartoon/superhero ever.  Batman was underwater, being held in a chokehold of doom by Killer Croc, a mutant human-crocodile hybrid bent on destruction, namely the destruction of the Caped Crusader.  If I had turned this on having no prior knowledge of Batman or his wicked awesome crime-fighting skills, I might have been a little concerned for his safety.  But he's Batman, and he somehow bent his entire body in half (must not have ribs) and kicked KC in the head, rendering him thoroughly beaten down. As Batman should.  All Batman episodes involve the criminal gaining the upper hand at some point, but Batman coming through in the end.  You don't necessarily need to watch the entire episode to know what will happen. Bruce is gonna win.

I, however, contrary to popular belief, am NOT Batman.  I don't always win, I don't get out of every scrape, and I don't get attacked by man-odile mutant freaky hybrids.  At least not so far.  If you looked at my life right now with no prior knowledge of what was going on, you'd see me moving to Houston next week to be with my fiancée and start work at GC4 and not be concerned at all with what was going on.  Looks normal to you.  And you'd be wrong.

On May 17th, 2007, I was single, about to start work at a hospital in Abilene, bolstering my resumé for another crack at Medical School.  I had just graduated from ACU with my BS in Biology, and was not looking forward to a year cleaning operating rooms after surgery.  Life was moving forward, but tough and a little bit debilitating. 

On May 17th, 2009, I will marry the love of my life, Abby, and be in my 4th month working with the youth ministry at GC4, my passion in life. I'll be halfway done with my MDiv and gearing up for an awesome summer with some great kids.  Life will be moving forward, and it'll be exciting and terrifying all at once.

That's not how the episode ends;  on May 17th 2010 there's no telling what will be going on.  The important thing is to not forget how the episode started...and how God has guided me through all of it.   Stay tuned, sit back, grab your popcorn, relax, and for heaven's sake...don't blink.  You might miss the show.

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear.  Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?  Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not much more valuable than they?  Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?  But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well."  Matthew 6:25-27, 33