on pins and needles

My friends the Ball Brothers have a big announcement coming up soon. You can sign up for email updates at their website to make sure you don't miss it.

They've also released a couple of albums recently: a Christmas album with some great acappella arrangements, and "Simplified," which has some fresh arrangements of some of the music of our heritage.

Catch a concert when you get the chance - they're great guys with a great sound!

anti-loneliness

Tonight we did something a little different for our Midweek Gathering. I asked some of the ones who went to help me tell you about it.

"For our mid-week prayer gathering this week, a few members of our church re-visited a local nursing home. Our goal was to be a blessing to others, to raise the spirits of the residents. I've noticed, however, that when you aim to be a blessing to others, it usually ends in a blessing for you as well. Wednesday was no different.

"Last time I visited the nursing home, I was more than a little shocked at the sadness and pain. I was uncomfortable then and really just wanted to get out of there, though I did meet a very kind woman, Katherine.

"Katherine was the first person I saw when I walked in this time. Seeing her again really was very special to me. She didn't remember me, but her kindness, her warm smile, her genuine love more than made up for it. I spent most of my time there sitting with her, making small talk. Unlike the "How's the weather?" small talk you make with someone rushing by you in today's busy world, however, this was more of a "I really like your sweater. Did your grandkids get it for you? Yes? Tell me about them," kind of small talk. It was bigger than small talk.

"I also had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Charles, a very nice man who was friends with Katherine, though I don't know exactly how long they'd been friends. According to him, they'd been friends for two to three weeks. According to her, two to three years.

"I don't quite know how to explain the feeling I had leaving the nursing home. I said my 'til-next-time's to Mr. Charles Dickerson and hugged Katherine who kissed me on the cheek. It was a good feeling. A really good feeling. I have two new friends. I've known them for two days." - Brittany Hinesley

"As I walked into the nursing home, I was honed into two people. One of them was the nice, but troubled lady that didn't like the home. The other lady was the sweet nun. I was excited to see them both, but I wondered - were they excited to see me?

"The first lady, Clarice, was not even sure who I was, but I worked with it. She finally noticed me after 10 minutes and we talked about her, her son, and how she wants to escape. I hope I don't see her when we get back, because she'd be happy at home.

"Then with the little time I had left, I saw Delores. She was peppy as usual, and yesterday was her birthday! Awesome! She showed me her present, a little Irish man dancing and singing! After that she showed me some old pictures, had some laughs and we parted ways.

"The love of God was shining through both of them. But more importantly, they taught me something! They loved me enough to give me wisdom, and that made me glad." - Shameer Goss



"I admit that I was a bit apprehensive about going back to the Pleasant View Lodge. Regardless, I went. And I am honestly glad I did. That first time I went, I couldn't get past the overwhelming sadness of the place. In round two, I noticed something that just struck me. A few of us were gathered in the sitting area and the Pastor's kids were really working the cute and adorable thing. Mrs.Kristy decided to sing with the kids. I don't remember the songs, but I do remember hearing one of the women start to sing. This lady was as sweet as could be, but a couple notches gone, sadly. Regardless, she perhaps for a moment felt a little peace and some comfort. That is what we were there for." - Joshua Hodges

- - -

Kristy and the kids got in on the action, too:




And I got to spend some time with Charlie, who had been there six months and was missing his wife and six kids something fierce.


I also got to spend a few minutes with Sam before he had to go to bed. As I rounded up my kids to say goodbye, I walked by Sam's room, where he had simply walked in and lay down. The loneliness was palpable.


To be present in someone's life, even if for a brief time, so that they get to experience not being alone. To go to those on the margins of life and offer a smile, a hug, a conversation, a laugh, ourselves.

This is to begin living as Jesus taught us to live.

leaders and pain

I'm reading The Monkey and The Fish: Liquid Leadership for a Third-Culture Church right now, and an early section jumped out at me:

Cue epitomizes a new breed of leader, a leader who leads from what I call the pain principle. This is one of several attributes that mark a third-culture leader and a third-culture church. The pain principle grows out of two axioms: (1) For leaders, pain in life has a way of deconstructing us to our most genuine, humble, authentic selves. It's part of the leader's job description. (2) For most people, regardless of culture, it's easier to connect with a leader's pain and shortcomings and mistakes than her successes and triumphs.

One of the things I'm learning as I encounter people around the world today is that leaders who understand the pain principle are the kind of leaders the world is thirsting for. What's intriguing to me is that this is the kind of leader the church was full of in its earliest days. Paul, Rahab, Ruth, Moses, Joseph, and Jesus himself were all such leaders.

- - -

As I'm working through this book, I also came across alarming statistics compiled at Phil Pike's blog (and personally discussed at Tim Irvin's blog) in regard to pastors leaving the ministry.

I think the two ideas are connected. See what you think.

terry and valerie stopped by

We were blessed this evening to share a meal and great conversation with our friends Terry and Valerie Basham.

Terry and I knew each other back when we were little kids, and we spent a year together in college. He is the pastor of the Grace Baptist Church in Hope, Arkansas, and is doing a great job loving his people and helping them connect to Jesus.

We've had some Facebook and email conversations, and that continued this evening. I love the questions he's asking, and where his journey is taking him. I'm proud to call him my friend.


This evening was the first time that my wife Kristy and Terry's wife Valerie met in person, after meeting through each other's blogs and corresponding online for a couple years.


I am thankful that we live in this time in human history, when technology can be leveraged to build real relationships that enrich our lives. Tonight was an opportunity that would never have happened were it not for the connections available to me because of things like blogs, Facebook, and the like.

Often, much is made of the harmful effects of social networking. I'd like to take a moment to enjoy the positive effects it can have.

one friend's journey

I've been fortunate in my short lifetime to have made some great friends. And I am blessed by God that a few of those relationships have grown and deepened, even in spite of time and distance.

Some of these friendships started out because of shared experiences in childhood, and went different directions through adulthood. I'm thankful to be able to listen to their perspectives, learn from them, and encourage them where I can. And I'm thankful that we love, worship, and follow the same Jesus.

Below is the story of one of my friends.

By the time I got my high school diploma at a little Christian school in the middle of a Midwestern corn field, I had memorized four entire New Testament books, a stack of other Bible verses, and about 50 classic church hymns. I had six years of formal Bible history, Bible doctrine and Bible interpretation classes under my belt. I could argue my way out of just about any confrontation with any poor sap who dared argue with me about God, the Bible, what a Christian is supposed to believe, do, or not do – in life.

During those years, I also gave my life to God and can clearly recall feeling that deeper-than-can-be-explained connection with Him… something I was missing in my own life… what I still imagine a father-son relationship must feel like. However, that somewhat mysterious feeling was quickly smothered by the busy-ness of learning all of those things that made you a “good Christian” in the eyes of the people I grew up around. To those people in my isolated little church community, I was a poster boy of Christian discipleship. I was quite accomplished in reciting the retorts I was taught, I knew all the right words, I had memorized chapters of scripture, and had diligently listened to people tell me what I should believe based on their study or beliefs that were passed down in generations. In that world, discipleship meant knowing, believing, and reciting what you were taught. That is what got you closer to God and got you ready for heaven.

When I left home, I moved on to an equally conservative and sheltered Christian college that continued to refine me in the ways of being a good Christian and attempted to keep me insulated from “the world”. Looking back on it, I didn’t have to do a thing in that world… just coast along and learn what I was told. Then, when I had achieved all of the learning, I would be equipped to get on with my life in the confidence that I had all the right answers and was in good standing with God. However, all of the things I held onto - that I thought made me a good Christian - were only things I did to “look” Christian, to look different. They had nothing to do with my inner relationship with God or how I expressed that relationship in the world around me. They were things that “I” did, not what God was doing in me. They drew attention to me, not to God. They were self-promoting, not humble. They were focused only on me achieving heaven and not my role in the world that God sent His son into.

Then, like any kid going to college (despite the kind of college), I eventually found myself in the real world. Confronted with all of the temptations the world offered for the first time, all of my Christian training failed me. The Bible verses and church hymns were just words in my head with no meeting - because I had never been taught how to apply them to my life or listen to them for what was being said. Bible history, doctrine, and those scripted retorts I was supposed to use when other peoples sins were exposed were words that I thought didn’t apply to me because I was already a Christian.

I soon felt that all of that stuff had no substance and the notion of a relationship with God was nowhere in my spiritual vocabulary - I didn’t even understand what that meant because I had been told all of those things WERE a relationship. So, I just dumped what wasn’t working and moved on with my life – without God playing any role.

Even then, there always seemed to be those Christians that kept showing up in my life and showing me a different kind of Christian than I recognized. Like the couple who showed unnatural hospitality and let me live in their house for two years – which is when I met the young lady who would become my wife. Or the guy who would sit with me over lunch and coffee - patiently listening to me deconstruct my childhood and setting a great example of Christian humility that countered my tendency to make Christianity a contact sport full of arguments and verbal shoving matches. Then there was the new Christian who challenged my spiritual intellect by forcing me to open my Bible again to find answers to his questions. I spent hours with a pastor friend, challenging the assumptions in my head and developing my own beliefs through Bible study and conversations. There were others who showed me that even serving people had spiritual value and Christianity wasn’t just about what you knew. And even when I reverted to bad decisions, these friends showed generosity and brought me back home. All of these people were showering me with the benefits of their own discipleship journeys… I just didn’t see it like that at the time.

Now I look back at that time - along with the relationships I’ve developed since then - and see that it isn’t about achieving a goal, or learning a lot of information, or even helping a lot of people - it really is a journey to draw closer to God. All of those discipleship things happen along the way. I’ve found that my journey has been pretty stop-and-go. It’s still there - and God keeps bringing more people along to get me moving again when I stop, but I’ve also noticed that the discipleship journey only happens when I work on it...and it’s not easy work.

To be completely open with you, I still struggle with opening my Bible and trying to get past the familiarity of the words and move into a place where I can understand and work on what they mean to my life.

I struggle with going to church and actually listening to the music and the talk and not just tuning out because I’ve heard them my whole life.

I struggle with talking to God in my day-to-day life rather than using churchy and hollow “prayer words” that just fall out of my mouth.

I struggle with approaching service, generosity, or hospitality with a spiritual purpose in mind rather than just doing them because they make me feel good.

All of these things take deliberate effort… and even practice. They aren’t easy. But they are the parts of your spiritual walk that make a difference in your heart and show something substantially and spiritually different to the world around you.

Now I know that my spiritual life is not a race to be the best Christian. It isn’t about being able to say the right words or doing all the right things. It isn’t about looking different or living by self-imposed rules that draw attention to me. Quite frankly, that would be easy. For me, right now, I think it is about practicing spiritual disciplines; including a lot of practice to develop habits like reading my Bible, prayer, silence, or solitude – things that bring me closer to God. I also know that I need to see more of the world around me from a spiritual view and find ways to use service, hospitality, and generosity to share what I’m getting out of my relationship with God. Then recently, I’ve realized that I can sit around and talk about “my journey” a lot also; but until I actually start walking, I’m not going to experience everything that’s waiting along the way – more people, more experiences, more struggles, or more of those special moments with God – more discipleship… and I want more of those.

So, that’s where I am now. I definitely wouldn’t be that “good Christian” anymore and I do know I don’t have all the answers. I also know that there is a lifetime of things to experience. Things that will draw me closer to God, closer to the people around me (Christian and non-Christian alike), and give me opportunities to do things and see things that I could never get out of an ordinary life. I just always have to remember that this life of faith takes work, dedication, or discipline… true discipleship. I have to step up and realize that all of those things are exactly what being a Christian means and I signed on for that life.

Want to read more about this kind of faith journey? Read these books:

O2: Breathing New Life Into Faith, Richard Dahlstrom

Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth, Richard Foster

missing you

Last Friday evening, I began the worst four day period of sickness in recent memory. All day Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, I battled a 104-degree fever, vomiting, and the worst headache behind my eyes that I have ever had.

Kristy quarantined me to our bedroom, and I was not allowed to touch or contact her or any of the kids. Derek began coming down with similar symptoms, so Kristy did her best to keep the sick separated from the well, particularly herself.

As far as our home goes, when I get sick, it's bad. When Kristy gets sick, it's...multiples of bad.

Between the piercing headaches and the body sweats, I noticed something: my kids would knock on the door, peek in, ask if I was better, sometimes get halfway to my bed before I could tell them they needed to stay out.

By Monday, Audrey had had enough. She opened the bedroom door, ran in to where I was sitting in the recliner, wrapped in blankets. She threw her arms out to me, then turned herself around and wedged herself between my legs, nuzzling her head against my chest. "I love you, Daddy," she whispered; and she stayed there for twenty seconds, then ran out.

A couple hours later, Derek came in, all sunken eyes and pale skin. I was sitting on the bed, watching a movie, and he went straight to the recliner, close to where I was. He crawled up on the recliner, looked at me for a few seconds, and fell asleep.

To have someone you love that close to you, and not be able to touch them, hold them, kiss them - is to experience a soul ache. While it was painful, it was a powerful reminder of how much children need to be affirmed, to be hugged, to be shown affection in physical forms.

And at 33, I haven't outgrown the need for it, either.

dungy, warner, and integrity

The first sentence of Wikipedia's entry on "integrity" reads:

"Integrity is consistency of actions, values, methods, measures and principles."

It is hard to overestimate just how important integrity is. I was reminded of this during the lead up to and playing of this year's Super Bowl.

Eddie White is one of the hosts of an afternoon show on a local sports talk radio station. In spite of his having no previous experience in the radio business, he is good at what he does, because 1) he's naturally gregarious, and 2) his previous and current positions have allowed him to build relationships with everybody who's anybody in the world of sports. So when he has an opinion of someone who's on the front page of the sports section, it's more often than not the result of direct interaction of some kind.

Tony Dungy, who recently stepped down as head coach of our beloved Indianapolis Colts, has been talked about a lot in the past couple weeks, as he offered commentary on the Super Bowl and as he continues to participate in publicity events surrounding the release of his new book. The terms in which Eddie White has spoken of Coach Dungy have been much the same as others in the business: respect and admiration for the dignity, class, and quiet strength he has displayed - in coaching, in efforts to strengthen communities, and in speaking of his faith.

Kurt Warner, the quarterback for the Arizona Cardinals, has also been the subject of a great deal of recent conversation. His team has been talked about, of course, as they participated in the Super Bowl, and Warner's contributions have been discussed, as has his place in pro football history. Warner is also someone who is vocal about his faith; in fact, some have characterized it as wearing his faith on his sleeve.

When Eddie White speaks of Kurt Warner, he does his best to separate the football player from the person. He admires his accomplishments as a quarterback, but has little respect for the man as a person. The tone of Eddie White's voice changes when he speaks of Kurt Warner. It's as if he can't even help it.

And then, he tells the story of why: several years ago, he watched Kurt Warner interact with some fans in Hawaii during the week before the Pro Bowl. He was rude to them, so much so that it made an indelible impression on Eddie White. And, to hear Eddie White talk about it, the impression was all the more indelible because it contrasted so sharply with the ideals of the faith that Kurt Warner wears on his sleeve when he's in front of the cameras.

So, as he speaks to his sizeable regional and national audience, Eddie White can't help but be frustrated at one person of faith, and he can't help but express profound admiration and respect for another person of faith.

The difference? Integrity.