Well, this is odd

I’ll bet you’ve never been asked to be a pancake stacker in a pancake stacking contest to celebrate the opening of a new bank. Go figure.

Grand Prize: $1,000, to go to the organization I represent, which is the singles class Jill and I will soon be teaching. We just found out about this tonight.

The pressure’s on. I have to stack those pancakes higher than anyone else. Or my co-stacker, Justin, has to. There have to be two people on a team, but only one can touch the pancakes.

What a weird rule.

Justin hurt his back yesterday, pretty badly, and so he explained all this to me tonight on the pancake-stacking recruitment phone call while tripping on Vicadin. It’s not clear to me which one of us will actually be doing the stacking. Hopefully him, as he’s a chef in real life and thus should be the more food-friendly member of the team.

Cowabunga!

A stone of remembrance

Then Jacob awoke from his sleep and said, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it.�? And he was afraid and said, “How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.�?

So early in the morning Jacob took the stone that he had put under his head and set it up for a pillar and poured oil on the top of it.

– Genesis 28:16-18 (ESV)

The stone that Jacob used for a pillow the night before had become holy, and he set it up as a pillar of remembrance. The night before it was just a rock, like all the others. Now it was a holy, annointed, stone of remembrance.

Remembering what God has done is something we are commanded to do over and over in Scripture. The reason should be plain, if you’ve lived long enough to realize how forgetful we humans are of the blessings we’ve been given. That’s why it’s often helpful to keep and hold objects of remembrance, to remind us.

For months I’ve carried a piece of paper, shown below, that has the setlist for one of the last worship services the student worship band I used to work with ever did. This was a holy night – it was our last night at our Junior High camp and on this night the band led a private worship service for the Victory Camp staff.



It was beautiful, and I’ll never forget it. God moved that night, and the worship was pure and good. I’m helped in that remembrance by this little piece of paper. Of the thousands of pieces of paper that pass through my hands each year only a few become special, set apart, made holy by the memories of God’s work that they carry with them. This is one of them. Tonight I was thinking of the past, and of memories of past moves of God, as I pondered the fact that now that Jill and I are poised to move into a new ministry, we really are done working with students. It’s final. That is a bittersweet feeling. But it’s good to be where we believe God wants us to be.

Do you carry little “stones” of remembrance with you? Do you hold on to items that remind you of what God has done? If you do, I’d love to hear about it in the comments.



They blessed me. Here they are singing Rain Down that night

Rejoice!

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

– Philippians 4:4-7 (ESV)

So much to say about this passage, so little time!

Yesterday and today were downer days. Not days of tribulation, or suffering, just days where my soul was a bit downcast (I’ve never really known tribulation, by the way). And this morning brought new issues to think about and worry about. Externally, all is well. But on the inside hope and joy are diminished.

Yet we are commanded to rejoice always. Always. I am ashamed that even in times of the low-level blues I have trouble rejoicing. Yet Paul makes the point, from prison, of all places: “again I will say, Rejoice”. Again, just in case we didn’t catch it the first time.

There is a promise in this passage; a promise of peace. The calming of those reckless waters of worry that splash and swirl, sometimes violently, in our thoughts. This is a peace that passes anything we can understand. It’s not just a feeling. It is a strong guard for our hearts and minds.

I have much to write, and not least about that middle passage: “Let your reasonableness [some translations: gentleness or gentle spirit] be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand;”. Perhaps later.

But I get to go to work now. And I don’t mean that sarcastically. I almost wrote “I have to go to work now”. But the thought hit me – I get to! There are people all over the world, well, all over this city for that matter, who would love to have the job I have. People who would love to have a job.

I’m commanded to rejoice. I’ll start with what’s before me: my commute.

Rejoice, always. That’s the game-plan, that’s the command. I pray that today is a day in which you find it easy to rejoice.

“. . . we rejoice in our sufferings . . .”

More than that,

we rejoice in our sufferings,

knowing that suffering produces endurance,

and endurance produces character,

and character produces hope,

and hope does not put us to shame

because God’s love has been poured into our hearts

through the Holy Spirit

who has been given to us.

– Romans 5:3-5 (ESV)

I wonder if I have ever truly suffered. When Paul wrote the words above, he wrote as someone who understood suffering, intimately. He lived in a world that was hard, full of swift death and prolonged hardship. He bore the marks of suffering on his scarred body.

And he rejoiced in it!

I wonder if I have ever truly suffered. And yet I see in passages such as this that suffering for Jesus can produce some fruit that makes little sense in a natural man’s context, and yet makes perfect sense when placed in the context of supernatural God’s loving work in the life of one of his servants.

Suffering produces endurance. And character. And hope. And waving goodbye to shame, forever.

Only through God’s love being poured into the heart of one of his servants could intense pain, want, and hardship produce these gems.

I wonder if I have ever truly suffered. I don’t think I have. In my flesh I am quite sure I don’t want to. Yet I hope that I am made ready for it, when it comes.

“More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings . . .”

“Lord, to whom shall we go?”

After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him. So Jesus said to the Twelve, “Do you want to go away as well?” Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God.”

– John 6:66-69 (ESV)

This thought hit me today: what would I do without the Lord?

Serious question, that. I’ve been a Christian for over half my life and in many ways I’ve forgotten what it’s like to not have this hope within me. I follow him, many times unsurely, often unfaithfully, yet he goes before me, ever faithful, and his light is the only real light there is, in a world of phantoms and illusions.

I wonder what other people do who don’t have Jesus in their life. What do they chase? Could someone looking at my life see that I chase that which the world doesn’t know or understand?

The band Rush once sang:

Each of us

A cell of awareness

Imperfect, and incomplete

Genetic blends

With uncertain ends

On a fortune hunt that’s far too fleet

Those words are a great picture of life under the sun, viewed through the eyes of an honest unbeliever. The fortune hunt is what most of the world goes after. I know I get sucked into it too; there are so many glittering prizes out there.

Some people taste the Lord, they see that he is good, and yet they still walk away. I can think of some right now who, either temporarily or permanently, have left a life of service to Jesus and the joy that they knew to chase after other things. And, don’t let anyone fool you, “other things” definitely can hold one’s attention. They can bring happiness, even temporal security and fulfillment, no matter what anyone says.

But – man! – I just don’t see how other things can compare to Jesus!

Jesus asks “Do you want to go away as well?”

No way. How could I, Lord? You have the words of eternal life!

My trip to the dentist

I went to the dentist on Wednesday. It had been awhile since my last visit, which is insane because, frankly, at my age you’d think I’d be more interested in keeping my choppers. I’ll cut through the suspense right away and let you know that I had no cavities. Not bad, and I credit that to the fact that I brush my teeth about 6 times a day. It’s sort of an obsession with me.

They took X-Rays of my mouth, which I appreciated because it’s good to get irradiated now and then, don’t you think? I was pleased that they cared enough about the health of my internal organs to give me a lead-lined apron to wear – as deadly radiation was blasted through my skull. I don’t understand.

They also took my blood pressure. All my life it has been a cool 110 over 70. It is now 130 over 80. I asked the nurse if that was high.

“No,” she replied, “you just old.”

Very funny.

They had the Ellen talk show on, starring Ellen Degeneres. I find her somewhat amusing. I guess a lot of the people who watch that show have bladder problems, because they had a commercial for “Poise” adult diapers featuring an attractive older woman, ballroom dancing with a carefree expression on her face. She was wearing her Poise diaper and had no worries. Later they had a “Detrol” commercial featuring what I thought was the same woman wearing a large, yellow, sandwich-board which stated “I have bladder control problems”.

I hope I never have to wear diapers. Don’t you? I mean, I did that once already.

The doctor chided me for brushing my teeth too hard, and I now have to start using a soft bristled-toothbrush. In addition, he wants me to wear a mouthguard because I’m grinding my teeth away in my sleep. I actually don’t think I do this anymore, although I used to.

I’m not sure why I wrote this post, and my guess is that at this time you’re not sure why you read it! 🙂

Writer’s block . . . [grumble]

Steve was a good man

I found out today that an old friend I haven’t seen in many years has passed away.

Steve was one of the first people I met in my neighborhood in San Antonio when we first moved there. I was thirteen and Steve was nineteen or twenty, but he would always be younger than me. Steve was friendly and he used to hang out with me and my brother Jim, shoot baskets, ask for a soda, and talk about the things he loved. He nicknamed my brother “Jazzbo” and we have never figured out why, but now and then we still call Jim that, after all these years. 🙂

Steve and I used to head down to a local Episcopal church every Saturday where they held a weekly gathering of other special adults. This was years and years ago, but I still remember it fondly. We would sing songs together, endure one of what I have come to call “Faddah Phil’s Heretical Homilies” – delivered by an extremely large, chainsmoking priest named Phil – and then go bowling. This routine was exactly the same every week, and I enjoyed it immensely. If you’ve never hung around with mentally retarded and Down Syndrome adults you don’t know what you’re missing; they can be some of the sweetest people you’ve ever met.

A long time before Blogs were invented I used to keep a private “blog” of sorts in a word document. In October of 1990 I jotted down some thoughts on my experiences with Steve and his friends at the Episcopal church where we gathered for our weekly singing, heresy, and bowling adventures. This was written, incidentally, the week after Steve’s dad passed away. It is a fragmentary piece of journaling; just some of my thoughts at the time. I leave you with them.

St. Davids never changes. I went today and really enjoyed it. Eddie and Ricky are almost 40 – their birthdays are next month. Time is interesting. We have this group of retarded adults who I have known off and on for the last 5 years, and they never change! They are all 35-45 year old children, and they continue to get the same scores in bowling, to have the same mannerisms. I get tickled at Johnny. He contorts his body in all sorts of strange ways as the ball travels down the lane. He’s doing what we all do sometimes, thinking we have control of something after it has left our hands, thinking that if we contort our bodies in certain ways the pins will fly and we will have a strike! There’s something profound in that.

Then there’s Charlie – a fairly severly (do those words go together?) retarded adult who can’t talk very well and who seems to always have a cigarette in his mouth. It’s as if the cigarette is a part of his body. He kind of looks like a cigarette.

Mike is an interesting guy. On the outside he looks fairly normal (you see, there’s retardation that manifests itself outwardly, and then there’s retardation that doesn’t. But after a lifetime of being retarded, whether the outside is genetically affected or not, you can tell). He’s such a nice, supportive type of person. But it’s as if he’s just talking to be talking. For instance, Steve’s dad died last week, and Mike kept going on and on, talking to himself, saying “gee, did ya hear about Steve Cox’s dad. Gosh, what a tragedy. Yeah, he passed away last week.” I asked him where Shirley was, and he said “Oh, I haven’t seen her in a while. No, it’s been awhile. Yeah, haven’t seen Shirley for awhile. I’ll go see her today. Yeah, I think I’ll drop by today.” Of course he won’t, but I guess if feels good to him to think that he will.

Ah, Ricky and Eddie. Two of the nicest, sweetest people I’ve ever known. Eddie has Down’s syndrome, and Ricky is just mentally retarded. But even though they have had very hard lives, they have a joy and a simplicity about life that is really refreshing. I’ve always loved it when Ricky has corrected “Faddah” Phil on a point of Biblical doctrine, or attempted to engage him in a discussion of a Biblical story. A typical exchange:

R: “Faddah Phil, I was reading in Joshua the other day. Yeah, they blew their hohns (horns) and the walls of Jericho fell down.”

P: “Is that right, Ricky? Well….. Hm…. I don’t know if I remember that part… I’m not saying it happened, and I’m not saying it didn’t.”

– 10/13/1990

Rest in peace, Steve. I’m glad I knew you.

Some random thoughts

I’m reminded again that I positively love reading history. There’s something about knowing the “backstory” that fires me up. Hence my current reading list, including a book on the Peloponnesian War, a book in two volumes on church history, and the Silmarillion. Stephen King called the Sil a “clumsy, galumphing dirigible of an epilogue”. I disagree. It rocks.

I’m punchy. I’ve been working to clear one of the websites I manage of pesky distributed denial of service scripts. Hackers are the lowest form of evil nerd. We hates them! We hates them forevah!!!

Tomorrow Jill and I are meeting with our teaching pastor to see about a place of service in the discipleship ministry of our church. I haven’t been too quick to admit it, even to myself, but I’m going stir-crazy since leaving the Student Ministry in August. I did that for ten years and it’s been hard to let go. We’re excited for where God may put us next.

I have the day off tomorrow. Yes!

Our oldest son Andrew got his license last weekend! This is a major milestone for us: one of our children now can fly (well, drive) solo! Andrew is a great driver and we’re real proud of him.

I read a lot of carping and criticism against the church out there in the God-blogosphere. Of course, much of it is needed and almost all of it is well-written. But I just can’t feel negative about the church, even the much-maligned American Evangelical church. It’s just been too much of a blessing in my life. The Bride is beautiful.

P.J. O’Rourke once wrote “I have a body like a bag of gummy bears”. I’m not quoting that for any particular reason [Bill reaches for another oreo].

When you look in the mirror, do you make a “cool face”? I do.

Pray for my buddy Jared as he works on his novels, his house, and a thousand other things.

Sunday between services we went over to the Student building to pass some info on to our three oldest kids. While there I bumped into a former student band-member who had been absent from church a lot recently. I almost bowled him over I was so excited. I can’t tell you how much that made my day. During my seven years of working with student worshp bands I saw a lot of students lead worship. May they all, every last one of them, remain faithful all their lives. I want to rejoice with them ALL before the throne of our Father on that day, with no regrets. All of them! I want their lives of service and glory to the Lord to blow mine away.

That’s my fervent prayer.

Jesus is the King. He is beautiful. If you haven’t been made new by his grace through his atoning death and resurrection you are missing out on the most important relationship there is. Reach out to him today; he will answer.

My spirit’s goal is to glorify him forever. I’m waiting for my flesh to catch up.

Being an authentic believer takes courage. It’s what I need.

Goodnight, everyone.

Called and sent!

Tomorrow morning my parents-in-law are flying to Richmond for seven weeks of IMB training. From there they will be flying to the Ukraine for a three-year mission, bringing the Gospel to the unreached Tartar people.

They are a wonderful couple, and we are going to miss them terribly. Please pray for them, for God’s blessing on their mission and for his power in their work. Pray also for my wife Jill and our four kids, who are going to really miss “mama and papa”.

And I’ll miss them too. They let me marry their only daughter and have been a wonderful source of encouragement, mentoring, and support to Jill and I for many years.

May God work through this wonderful couple in the Ukraine!


“. . . your fruit should abide . . .”

You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you.

– John 15:16 (ESV)

This passage was read in church today, and it immediately impacted me. It spoke to a longing in my heart that is, at times, somewhat desperate.

Children of the King are chosen and appointed to bear fruit for his Kingdom. Fruit that abides. Fruit that lasts.

As children of God we should be able to point to Kingdom fruit that is lasting. If there is no tangible fruit resulting from our lives there is reason for great concern. That being said, I’m convinced that a faithful Christian – one not just “doing good things” but actually living naturally as the workmanship of God – produces a lot of fruit he is never aware of and won’t be shown until the last Day.

There is an element of faith here that I, as a wavering and unsure servant of God, have to cling to. The true fruit of the Kingdom, the true works, are those actions that work a permanent change, both in ourselves and others. We don’t always see them. We have setbacks and disappointments. And yet we believe, as we yield to God, open ourselves up for his correction and teaching, and surrender ourselves to his will, that fruit will result. And that it will last forever, if it is in God’s hands.

And sometimes it’s there, and we don’t know it, because it hasn’t yet broken through the surface of the soil . . .