In Alaska

Flying into Anchorage was almost surreal. The view of the glaciers, mountains and fjords was spectacular. The last 2 hours of the flight evoked a host of memories and emotions. I never realized how much I took for granted where I grew up. Walking out of the airport was literally a breath of fresh air. It was nearly 90 degrees in Houston when I left. It was 64 in Anchorage. This morning it is 50 degrees and raining. This is the Alaska I remember.

I'll leave you with these words from Searching for God Knows What to consider.

"Maybe the gospel of Jesus... is all about relationship with Jesus rather than about ideas." We seem to fixate on steps to salvation and I think we might be missing the point. Instead, we should be inviting others to encounter Jesus, know him and love him.

Out of context

Later this morning I leave for Kenai, Alaska. I'm excited, but at the same time, I know it will be quite weird because for the first time ever, I'll be a visitor in my hometown and home church. Many faces will be new, those still there will look different, I'll look different, my old house will not be the same, so much will have changed. However, there are many things that will be the same. As I drive from Anchorage to Kenai, the mountains will look the same, the fireweed will still be there, the waters of Cook Inlet will remain unchanged. It reminds me so much of me and God. While we humans change so much, whether for good or bad, God always remains the same. Just as Mt. Redout will look the same, God's love will always remain. His character will never change. His purposes are unswerving. His determination to redeem us is unrelenting. I'm so thankful God's nature, his character, love and purposes don't hinge on me because I tend to change too much.


Ok, that was the serious reflection. I do have one funny memory to share of growing up in Kenai. My senior year in high school I taught swimming lessons and lifeguarded at an indoor pool. One day I was walking in a shopping center with my sister. A mom and her 5 year-old daughter (who I was teaching swimming lessons at the time) stopped me. The girl looked puzzled until the mom explained who I was. She immediately exclaimed loudly "Oh, I didn't recognize you with your clothes on!" That, my friends, might be one of the more embarrassing moments of my life.
Have a great week everyone.

Church

“Here is the church, here is the steeple, open it up and look at all the people.”

I remember playing this hand-motion game. I had never given much thought to “church.” Of course, I grew up in a church family, going to church. Actually, I was taught that you don’t say you go to church because the church is a group of people.


Craig Van Gelder writes in The Essence of the Church.

“When we encounter the church, we move into spiritual territory that occupies earthly
terrain. We encounter the living God in the midst of our humanity. We encounter the
Spirit of God dwelling in the midst of a people who are created and formed into a unique
community. As these communities study the Bible, examine their history, and explore
their settings, they take on particular names, styles, structures, and behaviors – and they
become diverse.”

I don't know if I completely understand the depth and breadth of "church," but I’m thankful for my brothers and sisters from other heritages with different histories. They add depth to my understanding of faith. I’m not sure I would want to be a part of a Christian community in which we all thought the same and agreed on everything. I, for one, learn a great deal more from my disagreements and discussions. I'm thankful to be a part of something much bigger than my own immediate community, one that spans centuries as well as church names.

A sinking feeling

I feel like Peter.
I have stepped out of the boat.
But I stumble when the waters become rough.
When the wind gusts I no longer look to you.
I turn within myself
And I begin to sink.

I worry about finances
I wonder what others think of me
I grow anxious about my future
I allow my schedule to consume me
I get so conflicted inside

The harder I try the deeper I sink.
Help me to let go.
Help me to look to you.
Teach me to trust you more.

Church growing up

I remember sitting along the backrow during worship on Sunday mornings. Our small church family of about 40 people would meet in a double-wide trailer, and sit in metal folding chairs for worship. One of the men would lead singing. My favorite song leader was my best friend's dad, George. He had a booming base voice that I thought was the coolest thing ever. He reminded me of the bass voice from Accappella.

One of the men, Ken, would preach almost every Sunday. I never understood a single one of his sermons, but they must have been good because my mom nodded at everything he said. I would later learn my mom nods at everything even when she doesn't get it. Because we could never follow his sermons, Matt, Stan, Tod, Ty and I would play connect-the-dots or any other game we could using paper and pencils. After church was over we'd rush to the tiny kitchen and slam down the remaining grape juice. It was just the coolest thing to drink juice from those tiny plastic cups. I felt like such a grown-up holding that cup and tilting my head back as I gulped that drop of juice. Although our parents said it was ok, it felt weird to do so, kind of like stealing the bread conescrated for the priests.

When I think of church growing up, I don't think much about the worship. I never understood the sermons, no particular Bible lesson stands out, nor any amazing prayers. Instead, I think of Tod, Ty, Matt, Stan and their parents. I think of knowing the code numbers to unlock one another's garage, and keeping several keys to different homes on my key ring. I think of Tod's mom putting calamine lotion on me when I stayed with her while having chicken-pox. I remember playing tag in the parking lot almost weekly after church. I remember that every Thanksgiving we met together for a meal because none of us had extended family nearby.

I can't wait to see some of these people in just a few days.

Ideas about God

"God is like a boy with a magnifying glass on an ant hill and I'm the little ant." - from Bruce Almighty

"They say God is everywhere, and yet we always think of him as somewhat of a recluse" - Emily Dickinson

"But who do you say I am?" - Jesus

In a book I'm currently reading the author shares how he used to perceive God like Santa Claus. This got me thinking about how I used to view God and how I see him now. Until the past 7 years or so, I had seen God as somewhat impersonal. Sure I prayed and sang, but I'm not sure I exepcted him to act because I had reduced him basically a lawgiver and judge -- someone who sat in a seat saying who's in and who's out.

Then, when I entered college it began to change. God became much like a genie, someone I would pray to to make the bad things in my life good, some one to mop up my messes so to speak. It was as if I would pray hoping that I'd wake up and everything be ok.

But now, I'm gradually lerning who God is and it completely changes the way I relate to him. What about you? How do you view God?

Why I go to church

I must apologize for my low view of church. I used to come to church to take communion, to sing, to listen to a sermon, to pray, and to enjoy fellowship. In other words, for me the goal objective or goal was to worship. Reflecting on my expectations and inner workings during most of our assemblies I must confess that worship was the end rather than the means to an end.

But my friend Brian has recently challenged that. What if instead I came to church for relationship with God and others? Rather than making worship my chief aim of coming together in the larger assembly, my chief aim became relationship? Rather than come to "large church" on Sunday morning to make sure I share in communion, I take communion in order to relate more closed to God and others? What if I attended Bible class faithfully in order to grow in relationship with God and others rather than simply to learn Bible? Now I'm thinking...

This past weekend

I was on a knee board the other day being yanked around a lake. After a couple of face plants I got the hang of it. Last summer I was with the same family at their lake house trying to get up on a slalom ski, but after about 20 tries and my arms extended like Elastigirl's I pulled myself back into their boat having swallowed my pride. I remember the days in when my best friend and I would get up, run down to his boat on their lake dawning our wetsuits (the water was about 60 degrees in Alaska) and pull each other around the lake a few times skiing and knee boarding.

On both visits to our friends' lake house I have been reminded that it's not the same as when I was 18. I can no longer do the things I once did. The boat's not the same, the water's not the same, the skis are not the same, the people aren't the same, I'm not the same. I'm older and a little heavier and not quite as strong. Not to mention I had not been on a slalom ski or knee board in 15 years until last summer.

This weekend

Today, I leave to spend the rest of the week with some of my favorite people ever. We'll spend time together on a lake waterskiing, tubing and riding jet skis. We'll sit on the deck of house talking. We'll eat way too much food. But I think what I look forward to most about the weekend is the thought of just being together and developing a greater sense of community as we open our lives to one another.

I need...

I need a different car. I drive a 1991 Geo Prizm with a bad transmission, a collapsing headliner, two broken door handles, a radio that doesn't work and 155,000 miles on it.

I need more money. I'm still paying for my college education, medical bills, utilities, a daughter's activities such as soccer and dance. I've got mouths to feed and backs to clothe.

I need a new house. My house is nearly 60 years old, it's furnace is 20 years old, it's drafty; It's in need of new exterior siding.

I need a vacation. I work 1 and 1/2 jobs. Both are emotionally and physically draining. They involve pouring myself into people.

I need another suit. I only have one suit, and I'm a preacher.

I need a riding lawn mower. It takes me nearly 3 hours to mow my lwan with my push mower. A riding lawn mower would easily cut that time in half.

I need a haircut. As I type this, I brush my hair away from my eyes.

I need to lose weight, change my eating habits and get my cholesterol down. My dad's side of the family has a history of heart disease.

I need to spend more time with my family. My job takes me away from them too much.

I need a new washing machine and dryer. The washing machine drips. We have to turn off the hot water to it when we don't use it. We can only use the timer cycle on the dryer.

But do I recognize the depth and extent of my need for God? Am I willing to chase after God as much as I am willing to chase after these things? The words to the song "I Need Thee Every Hour" haunt me.

"Blessed are those who recognize their need for God,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

A self-examination

"Search me, O God, and know my heart.
Test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is anything offensive in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting."
- David in Psalm 139

"When I consider you heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,
and what is man that you are mindful of him,
the son of man that you care for him?
- David in Psalm 8


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In my quiet time this morning, my exercises had me pause and reflect on God's presence in plants giving them life, in animals giving them sensations, in me giving me more than that making me a temple. The word temple lept out at me. The temple, the house built for God. The replacement of the tabernacle. The location where God chose make his presence manifest. Paul will talk about our bodies being the temple of God, we are not our own. As I considered this before meditating on my Scripture for the day, I began to be saddened. What if it's my sin in my life that keeps me from sensing the presence of God in my life? If God abhors sin, and isn't in its presence, if I've got sin in my life what does that say about his presence in me if I'm his temple? I know Scripture tells us that God is always faithful and is there, but at the same time he won't be in the presence of sin. When I consider the times in my life when God has seemed most distant, it has been when I've been caught up in sin. Pride, lust, greed, worry, whatever the sinful state at that time. So, I contemplated a while my life just as the Psalmist wrote above.

And then, my exercises took me to Matthew 5:43-48 about loving your enemies. The kind of love Jesus calls us to can only be accomplished with the power of the Holy Spirit in our lives. In other words, only with the presence of God. To live like Jesus, I must constantly examine my heart. And though I sin, I must strive to be free from a state of sin. As I do, the Spirit dwells within me giving me the power to live the teachings of Jesus. Maybe my theology is bad here, but for the moment, it makes sense.

Last night

Adults serving hot dogs to children
A group of guys playing basketball in the dark
A small group of teenagers performing drama for those gathered
A man leading a diverse group in "The Lord's Army" including the motions
Time for communion
A group of imperfect/flawed people singing together in one voice
Talking with a man about wedding plans
Sharing with a mom what the Lord is teaching me
Throwing magnetic darts with a child

To do this is to participate in a community of faith. Thanks for a great night last night all you who worked so hard.

In recovery

I just returned from my first summer trip with a group of students. We joined a youth group led by a friend of mine at Lake LBJ for camp/retreat. Although I return exhausted from such weeks, I'm always so glad we do these things. One thing that really hit me personally this time is how much I love all of our teenagers. Just spending time with 14 of them this week and hanging out really brought me closer to them and really changed me. I get to spend time and learn from some amazing young men and women who I love more than they can ever know. Thanks for an awesome week!

Dance recital disappointment

Julia had a dance recital tonight. There were technical problems from the very beginning. The show began nearly 30 min late due to problems with the lights which eventually went out for good after the first 15 performances (there were supopsed to be 42). Jenna, my 9-month-old, handled the first 10 min well, but decided she would rather walk around. So we did. Then when we found out the lights weren't coming back on the recital was rescheduled for next Saturday. So, while Deana helped Julia get dressed I decided to be helpful and change Jenna's diaper in her stroller. Only when I did, she decided she needed to relieve herself one last time AFTER the diaper had come off. So, the stroller and her dressed were soaked, and I was soaked because like a good dad, I picked her up and finished changing her diaper as she dangled on my arm. So, I came home with Jenna while the rest of the family and Julia's friend went to Cracker Barrel.

So, in some ways tonight was a disappointment. Which has led me to think about myself. Daivd, in Psalm 139 at the end asks God to search him. I'm typically not that brave. But tonight I do. Recent posts by friends and emails from those I know and love have compelled me to step back and look at my life. One thing I see in myself is that I have this tremendous fear of disappointing people. It just devastates me to know I let someone down. I used to not be sure why that is, but it's because I'm selfish. I care too much what others think of me. If I let you down, then maybe you won't think as highly of me. I know this is a little childish, but hey it's me. I just thought I'd share this particular reflection as I think about my daughter's dance recital. For those of you who have commented, emailed or posted on your blogs thanks for making me think. I'm a closer follower because of it.

Returning to my roots

In a few short weeks I'm returning to Alaska for the first time in 11 years. It's a place I spent over 20 years of my life. A lot has changed since then. The birth of two children, three moves a career change and the divorce of my parents. Even more than that, my journey with God has taken me in a different direction than I ever anticipated.
When I left Alaska, my faith was largely based upon those who passed theirs along. But as I return, my faith is the result of a genuine search for God. Although many of my conclusions have changed, I'm thankful for the foundation I was given. I may not agree with those whom I will see for the first time in many years, but I will always thank God for them being in my life.
One of the most difficult things about pursuing God on my own terms has been my relationship with my mother. There are many things she has taken for granted thinking I agreed with her. As we have spoken over the years, she has been shocked to say the least that many things she uses to define her faith are the very things I am the polar opposite on. Needless to say, this does indeed create tension. So, I pray every time I see her for a spirit of gentleness and humanity realizing our relationship is more important than our disagreement.

So, as I return to my roots in a few weeks, my prayer is much the same for those I will see -- that the relationships I have outweigh the theological differences that exist.

We have a goste

Yesterday, my daughter thought it would be funny to play a trick on me, so she decided to pretend she was a ghost. I was in my room and I would hear her sneak up to the door. Knowing she was up to something, I pretended not to notice going about my usual business. Out of the corner of my eye, I say a bright green flash. I turned around and there was a fluorescnet index card. I picked it up and read "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I am a goste.... from Goste"

Just some more thoughts on compassion

I'm still thinking about the oppressed. We don't have to go to the Sudan, or other places to find oppression. It may not take the same form here where I live, but I still see it. As moved to act as I am on behalf of the people of Africa am I just as moved to act on behalf of the 30 or so women at the women's shelter not 10 min from my house? Am I moved to act on behalf of the 70 families that show up at my church's pantry? Am I moved to act on behalf of that one students who is ridiculed and beaten down by everybody else around him simply because he's different?
Am I moved to act with compassion for a single mom trying to raise three children on her own?
Don't get me wrong, I'm definitely for thinking globally and am working to prioritize my resources to do so, but I don't want that to take my eyes off what I am to do in my own back yard. May we all strive to be exactly what we're called to be -- a light to all the nations beginning with those I see every day.

Invisible Children

“Is this not the fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke?” – Isaiah 58:6

“I tell you the truth, whatever you did for the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” – Jesus, speaking the parable of the sheep and goats” – Matthew 25:40 (Jesus’ parable of the sheep and goats)

“An individual has not started living until he can rise above the narrow confines of his individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity.” – Martin Luther King, Jr


I just finished watching a documentary, Invisible Children. I sit here in the comfort of my home, sipping coffee, typing on a laptop computer, knowing my children are safe in their rooms. Meanwhile, at night thousands of children in Sudan flee their homes to sleep in piles at hospitals converted to refugee camps every evening. Families live in absolute terror of losing their children. Each night, they go to sleep wondering if the rebels will come.

Such intense suffering makes me uncomfortable to say the least. When I think of suffering I think of personal suffering – losing a loved one, coping with three miscarriages, being a child of a divorce. I can even see how my own sins have brought about suffering. I can explain that and understand it. But to watch suffering on such a large scale causes me to hurt in a deeper, maybe even more profound way. It causes me to see how broken the human race is and how deeply stooped we are in sin. I can’t begin to understand what it would be like to be a child living in fear of being abducted and forced to kill or be killed. I can’t imagine living with images of my best friend, brother, or sister being tortured or raped. I cannot fathom being a parent and watching my child leave my home every day before the sun goes down to join thousands of others who sleep in heavily guarded hospitals that are converted to refugee camps every night so that the children can be protected from the rebels who fight in the name of God. Even worse, I can’t imagine living with the realization that nothing is being done to help me.

I don’t watch such a film for entertainment or to have a point for my next sermon. I watch this film to open my eyes and heart and respond as Jesus would. As God’s people, his royal priesthood, his household, we are called to be a blessing to the nations. We are called to be a light to the world. I am called to make a difference, not by only proclaiming the Gospel by preaching or sending money for missionaries, but by taking personal responsibility and initiative. I don’t want to sit back and wait for someone else to do something. How can I when I have so much to offer? I want to be where Jesus would be; do what he would do. Maybe this is what Paul means, in part, when he tells the Philippians that he wants to share in Christ’s sufferings.