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The Best Use Of This Blog Ever

October 20, 2009 in Blogs, Faith, Friends, God, Health, Life with 4 Comments

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You see the graph up there?  It’s from Google Analytics and is for my blog’s traffic over the last month.  Now, I have high hopes of what this blog might be, dreams of it having hundreds of readers a day.  But that’s a lot of ego, if I’m honest.  Anyway, I’m used to looking at a graph like the one above and not seeing it climb above about 77 for any given day.  I’m also used to the peaks and valleys that come with not updating every single day.  But as you can see, about a week ago, my graph suddenly changed.

That’s when Sterling Davis had surgery on his brain to remove a tumor.  I wrote a little post about how we could all be praying for him.  Some of you thought it was good and helpful, and so you passed it along to a few other people.  Some of them felt the same way and passed it on to a few more.  Eventually, that one little post got a lot of hits.

Funny how I’ve always wanted my personal blog to grow and the only time it really has was when it was devoted completely to someone else.

That’s the best use of a blog that I can think of.

And the best response too.

So, anyway, Sterling did really well in his surgery.  The doctors were able to get about 85% of the tumor out, which was huge.  He went home after just a few days, which is even… well… huger.  Since then, Roger and Becca, Sterling’s parents, have just been waiting to hear from the pathologist as to whether the tumor was benign or malignant.  In other words, they were waiting to find out if it was cancerous or not.  Well, today they got their answer.

It’s benign.

See?  I told you prayer works.

However, please continue to pray for Sterling’s continued healing.  The prognosis is a lot better now, but the journey’s not over.  I’m humbled to see all of you walk along with him.

Thanks.

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There’s One In All Of Us

October 19, 2009 in Books, Faith, Family, For Real, Ideas, Life, Movies with 8 Comments

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The image above is from my office. I have a bookshelf in between two chairs, and on top Max and the “Wild Things” from Maurice Sendak‘s classic Where the Wild Things Are dance on in a relentless wild rumpus.

I keep these figures there so that I see them every day and am reminded of that scene from the book because there’s something very attractive about it to me.  I find the image of a land where I am king of all that is wild and dangerous and frightening and adventurous and magical to be very appealing and conducive to my “process.”  Of course, I know it’s an illusion, itself a figment of imagination run rampant, but that doesn’t matter, not in the moment.  Whenever faced with trouble, whether of my own doing or not, I like the fantasy that I might conquer it all through sheer will and declare a dance rather than a tantrum.

Even though I’m now an adult, a grown up, with a child of my own, I like this idea. I’ve always liked it.  I can’t tell you that Where the Wild Things Are has always been my favorite book or that I’ve always loved it as much as I do, not because it wasn’t or I didn’t, but rather because I simply can’t remember.  You’d have to ask my parents (which I haven’t, so I can’t tell you what they’d say).  However, I can, at the very least, tell you I’ve always connected with it.  Of course, whether I could articulate why or not is a different story altogether.

I tell you all this just to try to put into context a little bit for you how excited I’ve been about the film version of Where the Wild Things Are that opened this weekend.  I’ve been sincerely worried about it.  I had the same thoughts as so many who have loved the book as children and carried some deep relation to it on into our adulthoods, which could be somewhat summed up with the following exhortation, “They better get it right.”

But what is “right” with regards to a masterpiece of children’s literature that is only ten sentences long, a mere 339 words, and extends just as firm a grip on the hearts and dreams of adults as it does on those of their kids?  I honestly don’t know.  Even though I wanted them to get it right, I would have been completely and utterly at a loss as to define for you just what I meant by that had you asked.  So, having now seen the movie, if you were to ask me, “did they get it right?” I think I’d still have to say, “I don’t know.”

What I can tell you, though, is this: what they did, in fact, “get” I absolutely adore.

Some people have expressed to me their interest in my thoughts on the movie. As I’ve just said, I loved it.  So, there you go.  For any of you who haven’t seen it, let me offer a “brief” review.  Then, for those of you who actually stick around, I want to try to express on a deeper level the resonant affection I have for this film.

The movie follows the same basic plot-line as the book, which can be summed up like this:

A mischievous young boy in a wolf costume named Max causes trouble for his mother who lashes out at him, leading him to escape to the land of the “wild things” whom he “tames” and over whom he is then made king.  As his first order of business, Max declares that a “wild rumpus” begin.  However, after the fun has run its course, Max finds himself longing to be back home.  So, he leaves the “wild things,” though they don’t want him to go, and returns to his home and his dinner.

However, don’t go in expecting a mere re-telling of the book. In fact, don’t go in expecting a children’s movie at all.  I’ve found that most of the criticism lobbed at the film is because of some unmet expectations.  So, if you go in expecting either of the preceding, know that you’re going to be soon joining the camp of the naysayers.

Even though it follows that same basic plot-line, it’s very, very different from the book and Spike Jonze (the co-writer and director) and his crew (including co-writer Dave Eggers) have made a beautifully raw film about childhood, but not necessarily a film for children.  It’s worth mentioning that they did so with cooperation, participation and blessing from Maurice Sendak who’s been quoted as saying, “I would rather not have had a film than turn it into a kiddie movie.”

Rest assured, it’s no “kiddie movie.”  You see, in adapting the book into a screenplay, Jonze and Eggers remembered what all children know but adults tend to forget, namely that childhood is not cute, precious and innocent.  Rather, it’s actually hard, painful, confusing, awkward, terrifying, violent and even, sometimes, lonely while also being endlessly adventurous, paradoxically joyful and heartbreaking, and most definitely fun.  So, that’s the movie they made.

Max is now the son of divorced parents and lives with his mother who’s busy with her own problems and a sister who’s leaving him behind in her own quest to grow up.  The kid’s got problems, both of his own doing and as a result of living in an imperfect world, and is definitely having trouble processing and dealing with them.  This results in fits of pure rage and attention-seeking acts of selfishness.  His mother reaches her limit with Max when he acts out in front of her new boyfriend causing her embarrassment.  She fails in an effort to calm/control/comfort/condemn/convict/corral Max resulting in his running away from home.  Max discovers a boat and sails to the island of the wild things, a dysfunctional family of larger-than-life monsters over whom he soon becomes king in the hopes that he’ll keep them together and make everything the way it should be.  The rest of the film follows the results of the very real truth that it’s impossible for anyone to do that.

I think everything about this film is great.  The writing.  The directing.  The performances, whether by live actors, like the perfectly genuine and relatable Catherine Keener or the new star-in-the-making Max Records, or the performers in the wild things suits designed by the Jim Henson Company, or the voice talent, a dream-cast that includes Forest Whitaker, Catherine O’Hara, Paul Dano, Chris Cooper, Lauren Ambrose and James Gandolfini (I admit that having heard Gandolfini’s voice in the trailer, I hated it.  However, hearing it in context, there’s no one else to play his part).  The cinematography is both beautiful and unsettling, and the music by Karen O is pitch-perfect (pun intended).  Plus, the CGI utilized is actually believable and serves the character (as much as it pains me to say it, take notice George Lucas).

I give it an A++ or 5 terrible roars out of 5.

I’ll eat it up, I love it so.

To sum up, here’s the tweet I posted right after I’d seen it.

Just saw Where the Wild Things Are. Wow! I’m a wreck. Loved it. Really really loved it. If you didn’t I understand. But… Wow. I did.

If you are one of those who just want to see the images of the book move (and I completely get that) you can check out the animated version here.

Now, if anyone else is left, let me warn you that SPOILERS MOST CERTAINLY FOLLOW. Scroll down if you want.  If not, don’t worry, I won’t take it personally.

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Ultimately the real reason I love Where the Wild Things Are (the film) is because it’s truth. It’s an incomplete truth to be sure, but truth none the less.

As I’m sure you know from seeing the trailers or posters like the one above, the marketing tagline for the film is, “There’s One In All Of Us.”  And this is true.  That’s actually where the wild things are.  Inside each of us are those things that are out of control or wild.  They’re terrible and frightening.  They want to be our friend yet so often can’t be trusted.  They tell us we’re in charge yet constantly seek to consume us.  We can get lost indefinitely in being engaged with them, and this engagement can be both playful and tragic.  They’re broken and selfish and manipulative but also attractive and curious.

Yes, this is truth.  There is indeed a wild thing inside of each of us.  However, it’s an incomplete truth, because, like Max, most of us, perhaps even all of us, don’t just have one wild thing, but a whole family of them.  Inside Max it seems there are seven, maybe more, but these are the ones he meets, with whom he engages and from whom he’s able to learn a bit about himself and how he relates to the world around him.

I’m not a literary or film critic by any means.  However, let me take a minute and tell you, just from my perspective, what aspects of Max’s character I feel each of the wild things represents.

WTWTA_icon07_96x96Ira is his innocence, goodness, artistry and naivete, and also Max’s openness to trust.  You might say that Ira is Max’s child-likeness.

WTWTA_icon03_96x96Judith is Max’s skepticism, his burgeoning realization that things are not what they seem and probably shouldn’t be believed.  She’s weariness and sarcasm.  She’s kinda like his potential grown-upness.  Incidentally and significantly, Judith and Ira go together like husband and wife.

WTWTA_icon08_96x96Alexander is Max’s insecurity and need for acceptance and affirmation.  He’s also honesty and hurt.

WTWTA_icon06_96x96Douglas is reason and practicality.  However, he also possesses the propensity for relativism if it seems to serve the greater good.

WTWTA_icon05_96x96The Bull is Max’s silent strength.  He also embodies all that is frightening.  He’s a thinker and represents potential.

WTWTA_icon04_96x96KW is love, not a perfect love, but rather one that’s jaded, that’s seeking someone to return their understanding of what love is.  She’s a protector and a realist.

WTWTA_icon02_96x96Then there’s Carol.  While Max is declared king of the wild things, Carol is their de facto leader.  This makes sense because he’s the one that is most like the Max we see.  He’s aggression and anger born out of a frustration with the sense that things aren’t how they should be.  He is passion personified.

Of course, these are oversimplifications.  The wild things are actually much more complicated and fuller characters than I’ve described here, but I think, hopefully, you get my point and can even begin to notice some of the wild things you have in you.

We all, at some point or another, think that this world would be better if we could just control it. We think this, of course, because we believe, on some (deep, often hidden) level that this world is our world, and that is the land of the wild things.  It’s a world in which we seemingly tame our wild things by giving false credentials for why we’re qualified to be in charge and are then declared king to rule as we see fit with the promise that we, like Max, could “be a truly great king.”  There’s just one problem… the land, like the things, is wild itself and cannot be tamed.

After Max is declared king and they have their wild rumpus, Carol takes Max on a tour of his kingdom.  Along the way Carol is telling him that everything that can be seen belongs to him as the king.  However, Carol then begins to make exceptions, like the holes that Ira makes in the trees or “that stick” or “that rock.”  See?  Even though Max is king he’s not fully in control, nor could he ever be.  There are even parts of his kingdom that already are “not that great.”

Of course, like us, Max can’t see this, at least not at first.  He believes he can be king and he can make things better.  He immediately sets forth trying to do so, to construct a place in which everyone will be safe and protected and can live together in Utopian harmony where they can “all sleep together in one big pile.”  It doesn’t take long for conflict to arise, though.  And what is Max’s solution but more conflict.

He divides the group into two teams of “good guys” and “bad guys” and proceeds to initiate a dirt clod war (remember those?  I do).  We might be tempted to think how childish this is of Max, yet I can’t help but realize this is so often how I address conflict in my own life, whether personal or corporate.  I compartmentalize and oversimplify, drawing clear battle lines and forcing everyone (even if it’s just myself) to choose sides.  In the end this strategy never works, and it certainly doesn’t for Max.  It doesn’t take long until feelings (and bodies) are hurt and the group is scattered again.

It’s following this that I believe the pivotal moment in the film occurs.  Max approaches Alexander who’s been injured both physically and emotionally in the war.  He’s alone, as usual, and feeling desperately sorry for himself.  Max realizes for the first time the trouble he’s caused and the impossibility he faces when trying to make everything right himself.  Alexander forces him to stare himself in the face by declaring:

You’re not really a king, are you?  You’re just a boy pretending to be a wolf pretending to be king.

Max, of course, realizes and acknowledges that this is true.  To which Alexander heartbreakingly replies, “I don’t think there is a king like that [that can make everything right and keep everyone together].”  And this is truth, though an incomplete truth.

I’m a man of faith and that influences everything in my life. I recognize that not all of you share my faith, and therefore, won’t see what I’m about to describe.  But the reason that Alexander’s resignation was so heartbreaking to me is because I know that there is a King like that, yet I also know well, as I think we all do, the doubt.

In the middle of all of it, though, we (hopefully) eventually come to realize that even without the answers, the first step is admitting that we’re not king, or at least not a very good one.  Max does and decides to return home.  None of the wild things really understand why but none take it more personally than Carol.  He basically goes nuts.  Douglas tries to calm him down.  So, Carol rips his arm off and then decides the only way to keep Max around is to eat him.  Max escapes by actually climbing in KW’s mouth.

Did you get that?

He escapes being literally consumed by the wild thing that represents anger and aggression by instead being consumed by the wild thing that represents affection and acceptance.

Later, after Carol has cooled off a bit, Max comes to see him.  Carol basically questions why he has to leave and why everything isn’t better since he came.  Max’s answer results in the following exchange.

Max: Because I’m not a king.

Carol: Well, what are you then?

Max: I’m Max.

Carol: That’s not very much, is it?

But part of what Max has realized is that it is, just not the “much” he had thought.

And that’s true, though incomplete.

Carol then walks off leaving Max alone.  Max goes to the beach where all of the other wild things are.  He promises to talk well about them when he returns and as he’s climbing in his boat to leave, Judith comments, “you’re the first king we haven’t eaten,” to which all the other wild things chime in with agreement.

And that’s true.  The wild things inside only consume us when we ceaselessly and uselessly attempt to exert control.  When we give up that illusion, we give up their control as well.

Meanwhile, Carol is off alone but stumbles across a simple message Max has left him: a heart made out of sticks with a “C” in the middle.  Just as Max is setting off Carol comes running down the dunes and straight out into the water.  Max looks back at him and all of the wild things, while they all look after him.  What’s left for them to do but to roar their terrible roars?

And this they do.

They roar.

They roar with longing.

They roar with regret.

They roar with expectancy.

They roar with sorrow.

They roar with joy.

They roar with fury.

And they roar with love.

‘Cause, you see, that’s what it’s ultimately about.  Love.  Love of self and love of others, regardless of how wild we all may be.

And this is true though incomplete.

And by this point the final scene is just icing, delicious and sweet and leaving us (or me at least) craving more.

Maybe you think I’ve read way too much into it, and maybe I did.  But I don’t care, because it got me.  Where the Wild Things Are really got me.

Some of the critiques from parents that I’ve read have centered around the film being too dark, the themes being too adult, Max being too rambunctious and angry, the wild things being too sad and scary and not being inspirational enough.  To those parents I would say that regardless of what their specific issues might be, their children are living in a very wild world and the vast majority don’t know how to deal with it if no one will help them.  If nothing else, Where the Wild Things Are illustrates this perfectly and provides all of you with the perfect opportunity to help your children along the way by talking to them not like a kid but a fellow wild thing.

So, if you any of you have made it this far… thanks.  I’m sure I haven’t expressed myself as well as I could have.  Maybe we can grab some coffee and just talk about it.

I think that would be nice.

Arrrroooooooooooooooooooo!

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Jimmy Wambua Meets His Compassion Sponsor

October 15, 2009 in Christianity, Church, Compassion, Conviction, Faith, For Real, From the Road, God, Ministry, Videos with 1 Comment

So, I promised on Monday that when video of this moment became available, I’d post it.  Well, here it is straight from Catalyst.  You might want to prepare yourself a bit.

Catalyst 2009 Compassion Moment from Catalyst on Vimeo.

Remember, you too can be a Compassion sponsor and be a part of changing a life like Jimmy’s.  To do so, click here.

Thanks.

Praying for Sterling

October 13, 2009 in Faith, Friends, God, Health, Life with 24 Comments

I started playing soccer when I was four-years-old.  My team was called “The Gremlins,” and we were pretty good.  I absolutely loved playing soccer.  I wish I had stuck with it because it’s the one sport that I was ever any good at.

However, I don’t think I was as good then as this guy.

35772817That’s Sterling, son of Roger and Becca Davis.  I got to go to his soccer game on Sunday afternoon, and I’ve got to tell you, boy’s got skills.  Like serious skills.  He can control the ball but isn’t afraid to let it get away from him for a moment.  He drives hard.  His footwork is good.  Plus, he genuinely enjoys playing.  It’s like he doesn’t know how good he is, and he doesn’t get frustrated with any of the other kids who, honestly, aren’t near as good.  I mean, he scored 7 goals alone.  If you know soccer, you know that’s pretty good.

Anyway, watching this game was a great privilege because of how excited Sterling was to be playing.  He didn’t get to play last week, because there were some medical questions being asked about him at the time, some that have since been answered.

You see, Sterling has a tumor in the middle of his brain.  It’s about the size of a ping-pong ball, and today a group of medical professionals are going in to get it.

So, today, in the midst of everything else I might have going on in my day, I’m going to be practicing “praying without ceasing,” perhaps like I never have before.  I’d like to invite you to join me.

Here’s a few things you can be praying for specifically:

  1. A successful surgery. -  What’s the definition of “successful” here?  Well, according to Roger, one simply where Sterling comes out of it.  I know that sounds serious, but that’s because it is.
  2. Getting the whole tumor. -  The doctor has told them that he expects to get about 85% of it with the chance to get the whole thing.  Evidently, there’s 15% that’s in a blind area, and the doctor isn’t willing to risk going into that blind area.  Totally understandable.  However, the way they’ll remove the tumor, evidently, is by “drilling” into it so that it collapses on itself.  Hopefully, the hidden 15% will collapse with the rest so that it can come on out.  Roger equated it to a gummy worm being stuck in your kid’s car seat.  You pull on it hoping the whole thing comes out, but there’s a chance the end breaks off.  So, pray for the whole worm.
  3. Good recovery. – They say that kids bounce back a lot better than adults.  So, that’s good.  And Sterling’s a strong, active kid (as you can tell from how good he is at soccer).  So, I fully expect this one to be easy.  However, we definitely want the Lord’s hand fully in Sterling’s recovery.  They’re expecting a seven-day hospital stay followed by about three weeks at home.  However, he could be up and going after a couple of days.  There’s just a number of factors on which that depends.
  4. A benign tumor. – This is just the beginning of a bit of a journey for Sterling, Roger, Becca and their family.  The prayer is that the journey isn’t made any more serious.
  5. Strength for Sterling. – I can’t imagine having to process this for myself, much less being a four-almost-five-year-old.  It’s a lot to deal with for sure, but I know that with God, Sterling can get through it for sure.
  6. Peace for Roger and Becca. – Probably the hardest thing for them to have right now.
  7. Guidance and empowering for Dr. Wellons. – This is Sterling’s main doctor, at least the one that’s going to be holding the instruments in the O.R.  However, we’re seeking the help of the Great Physician.  I want Him to be the one working in and through all the doctors and nurses.

It’s obviously going to be a long day.  But you can keep up with updates I’m sure by following @jrogerdavis and @davisbecca on Twitter.

Prayer is effective.  I believe it, and I know it.  Thanks for joining me and all the many others lifting up Sterling today.

Formula for Creating an Authentic Encounter with God

September 21, 2009 in Faith, God, Ideas, Random with 2 Comments

So, this past weekend I drove over to Eagles Landing FBC south of Atlanta for the Georgia BCM’s Confluence Conference.  After a crazy week, I was looking forward to setting aside Student Life stuff for a couple of hours and focusing on something else.  I had been asked to come talk about creating authentic encounters with God.  That’s a pretty lofty request, but I gave it my best shot.  I really enjoyed working on it and had even more fun delivering the content I had worked on.  The crowd I was with was great, responsive and interactive.  I may have enjoyed it more than them, but if that’s the case, they didn’t let me know.  Hopefully, I can do some things for them in the future.

Anyway, as part of my preparation I ended up actually developing a formula for creating authentic encounters with God.  I now choose to share this insightful, provocative, profound, world-changing development with all of you.

EncounterFormula.022

Here’s the translation: Encounter equals God plus you minus the front you put up for the World plus Jesus divided amongst particular times and certain places to the power of the Holy Spirit.

Now, how exactly does that play out?

Well, that’s what the whole seminar was about, and I even ran out of time to fully cover it like I would have liked.  So, I can’t expound too much here.

You’ll just have to wrestle with it on your own.

Until next time…

Church Is Not A Palindrome, Part 3

June 23, 2009 in Church, Conviction, Faith, God, Let's Be Honest with 0 Comments

First, a brief (hopefully) intro to this post:

I’ve written about church before and the struggle I’ve experienced over the past few years to find a local body of believers to be a part of. It wasn’t the finding a local church that was the problem. I live in the deep South, and there are literally hundreds of churches within my area that I could have joined. The problem was finding a church that I liked. Though saying it that way makes it sound much more shallow than it is. It wasn’t that I wanted to find a preacher that I liked or music that I liked or a small group or somewhere with a cool children’s program or something like that. It was really that I had grown pretty disillusioned with church because of some experiences that I had, and every church I visited seemed to have something really wrong with it that I perceived as a reason not to go there. Anyway, you can find those other posts elsewhere.

Now, on to the post:

The good news? I have found a church. I’ve actually only been to it three times. So, I think it’s doubly good that I’m even to now say that I consider myself a part of it. I haven’t officially joined yet (I’m sure we will, soon; you know how summer is), but I’m glad we’re going there. The church is Westwood Baptist Church.

If you knew me really well, and I tasked you to find a church for me, I doubt you would have picked Westwood. Most people I tell that’s where I’m going now seem genuinely surprised. If I had just looked at it without actually going, I probably would have stayed away. This isn’t because there’s something wrong with Westwood. It’s more that you probably would have thought that I would have found something I considered to be wrong with it. And it’s not necessarily that I haven’t. So, why am I going there?

Two reasons.

1. I get a sense of genuineness and that goes a long way with me.

2. I’ve matured a bit and gotten over myself.

The past few years have been some intense times of growth for me in a number of areas. But all of that growth has constituted a season of life during which I’ve realized how much ego I have and how I have to constantly battle against that ego daily. When it comes to church this meant that I came to a point where I knew I needed a church home and where I knew that the major obstacle to me finding a church home wasn’t the churches but was actually my own ego. I was looking for things that were wrong instead of the things that were right. To expect a church to be perfect is ridiculous. To not be willing to be a part of the solutions to problems is selfish. So, I picked a church. Liza picked the same one. It only took one visit on one Sunday, and we’re in. It feels great.

It feels right.

This past Sunday, Les, the pastor, was preaching about personal responsibility. He’s been doing this whole series of sermons on “Lost Words,” which are basically character traits that are biblical and Godly but that our society doesn’t seem to value much anymore (if they ever did in the first place). Personal responsibility is one of those lost words. The sermon was good, but not like the most earth-shattering thing you’ve ever heard. He was preaching from a passage I’m familiar with, 2 Samuel 15. It’s where David and his army are fleeing from Absalom. David tells Zadok the priest to return the Ark of the Covenant to the city because he’s not going to rely on it like some good luck charm. Instead, he’s going to leave things in God’s hands and face whatever consequences the Lord deems he deserves.

Anyway, like I said, it was good and Liza and I were listening intently, but at the end, there was just a brief moment that I’m sure many other people paid no attention to, where Les slapped me in the face (obviously, not literally). In fact, I have a good sense that God prompted him to say this in particular just for me. Here’s what it was.

Les was pretty much finished with the actual sermon part and was leading a kind of decision time so that people could respond to what they had heard. He was challenging all of us to take personal responsibility for things in our own lives and then he began asking what those things might be. Were there things we blamed coworkers for or our spouses for or our children for or the economy or the government or our culture, etc.? Then came the clencher when he said:

“Is there something in your life that’s your responsibility but for which you’ve been blaming the church?”

Talk about hitting home. I realized in that moment, sitting there in this church I had decided to become a member of, the journey that God had been taking me on to heal me and change me and transform me. I’ve been so pissed at Him and so many others along the way because things weren’t going like I thought they should when all along I was the one not going the way I should. But He never gave up on me or abandoned me.

For that I’ll always be thankful to Les and to Westwood and, ultimately, to God, Himself, Whom I’ll be worshipping on Sundays with my new church family.

This may not make a lot of sense to you. I realize that. But it makes perfect sense to me.

So there you go.

Reflections On My First Father’s Day

June 21, 2009 in Faith, Family, God with 0 Comments

I like holidays. A lot. The things I like the most about them are as follows: 1. family time – 2. good food – 3. giving gifts.  The only “holiday” I ever have had a bit of an issue with is my birthday.  Even though it’s great to have a day where people are supposed to make a big fuss about you and shower you with gifts and well-wishes, it’s always made me feel kinda awkward.  Since becoming a father, I now have another day that’s all about me, at least within my little immediate family. Father’s Day.

It was great.

First of all, as any of you who follow this blog know, there have been many times over the years that Liza and I wondered if anyone would ever be celebrating us on Mother’s Day or Father’s Day because we didn’t know if we’d ever actually get to be a mother or a father. So, now that we are, this day has become way less about me and what a good father I am or might be or could be or whatever, but is much more about what a truly amazing miracle it is that I get to celebrate this at all.  Of course, this has absolutely nothing to do with me and has everything to do with the blessing of God in my life. So, yea Him!

Story got me a canoe, which was super-awesome of her.  I’ve got the best little girl ever, and, evidently, one of the most financially savvy since in her short 3-months-and-26-days she was able to save enough dough to get me said canoe.  That’s not even mentioning that I have no idea how she gets the money in the first place.

Liza got me a framed picture.  When Story was 1-month-old Eric came and took some pictures of her for us, and they’re really great.  One, in particular, was a favorite of mine.  So Liza got me a print of that one so that I can hang it in my office.  I will now submit to you for your viewing pleasure.

IMG_2497-2

The day overall was pretty chill.  We just went to church, got something to eat, picked up the canoe and then hung out at home (I babysat in there somewhere so Liza could go to the movies; that’s what a good husband/father I am).  But it’s been impossible today to escape contemplating what it means to be a father.  I’m obviously still extremely new to this whole thing, and, therefore, have very little advice to offer.  Thankfully, though, through my faith, I know the one ultimate Father.  So, I’ll leave you with something about Him.  Luke 15:11-32 (from the Bible).

11Jesus continued: “There was a man who had two sons. 12The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So he divided his property between them.

13“Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. 14After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. 15So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. 16He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.

17“When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired men have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 19I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men.’ 20So he got up and went to his father.
“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.

21“The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’

22“But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. 24For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.

25“Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. 26So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 27‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’

28“The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’

31” ‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ “

Happy Father’s Day!

Everything? Really?

June 17, 2009 in Christianity, Faith, God, Questions with 0 Comments

There’s millions of ideas for blog posts that rush through my mind in a given day (okay, not really, but tens at the least). Finding the time to write them, though… that’s another story. At any rate, I remain committed.

So, I was working on a devotion recently for our new 31 Verses Every Teenager Should Know book (you can check out the others here). The 1 of the 31 I was working on at the time was Luke 14:33:

“In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple.”

Now, you’ll notice that this verse begins with the phrase “in the same way,” which makes you wonder, “in the same way as what,” which lets you know that if you’re just reading that verse by itself, then you’re missing out on something, the context. So, you really need to back up and read some more. For the sake of what I’m writing about here you might want to check out verses 25-33 of that chapter. In case you don’t feel like it, let me break it down for you.

Jesus (of Nazareth, the Christ) had just chosen to turn a lovely dinner party with some Pharisees into a series of teachable moments during which He could kinda stick it to them and the other guests (lovingly stick it to them, of course). This culminates in a parable about a wealthy, well-t0-do man who was throwing a great banquet. His invited guests all had other things to take care of. So, they were blowing him off. As a result, he decided to pretty much invite anyone and everyone who would come, including almost exclusively the dregs of society. Well, this sounded great to the dregs and a whole lot of people started following Jesus around wanting to know what He was all about.

Jesus decides to oblige them by fist and foremost letting them know that, just becaue they’re all invited to the feast, it doesn’t mean that life’s simply going to be one big party. He uses some pretty harsh langugage about how a person can’t be His disciple unless they hate everyone in their lives, including themselves. This is obviously shocking (most are probably hoping its some sort of divine hyperbole). So, Jesus uses a few metaphors to explain what He’s talking about.

It’s like a guy who wants to build a really big tower or a king who wants to go to war. Both are facing extremely daunting tasks, tasks at which, left to themselves, they wouldn’t be successful. So, each sat down ahead of time and figured out what it was going to cost them and whether they could and/or were willing to pay that price.

So, it’s in that same way, in the same way as those two guys, that a person who does not give up everything cannot be Jesus’ disciple.

Now, I can’t read this verse and think of Jesus saying something similar to the guy we know as “The Rich Young Ruler” (or RYR for short). During that encounter (which you can read about in Matthew 19:16-30, Mark 10:17-31 or Luke 18:18-30), as I’m sure you remember, the RYR comes to Jesus and asks what he must do to inherit eternal life. Jesus tells him to keep the commandments to which the RYR responds that he’s done that (impossible, by the way). So, Jesus tells him that the only other thing he lacks is to go sell everything he has, give the money to the poor and then leave his life behind and follow Jesus. When the RYR hears this, it says he was saddened, and from what we can tell, couldn’t give up all that he had.

Now, these two different moments with Jesus are obviously dealing with the same issue, the price one is willing to pay to follow Him. However, with regards to the RYR, it seems that Jesus is making a requirement (and trying to get to the core of the RYR’s obstacles to following Jesus in the process). Whereas, in the previous instance with the crowd, it appears that it might be more of a willingness to give up everything as opposed to actually having to do so. After all, for most of us, following Jesus won’t result in us having to abandon our homes and families, give away everything we have or sacrifice our lives… but it might. So, we just need to be willing to have that happen, should God deem it necessary.

Right?

So, as I was writing this short devotional (less than 300 words) I wanted to make that point in my summarizing sentence. Something like, “Jesus calls us to take the time to determine if we would still follow Him if it costs us everything, even our lives.” And leave it at that. But something kept nagging at me. The idea that it actually does cost us everything to follow. When we do, nothing is our own anymore. It is all His. We may not be called to sacrifice it or abandon it as it might sound, but we no longer control our lives or approach these things in the way we would want to. It’s now all about Him and what He wants, not all about us and what we want. I was trying to water down what He was saying, to make it sound better, feel better, go down easier. I think I was selling it short. So, I wrote a new closing sentence.

“Jesus calls us to take the time to determine if we would still follow Him if it costs us everything, even our lives, because, in a lot of ways, it does.”

Anyway, I know that this isn’t super-deep or insightful or groundbreaking or anything, but it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a few days now.

You?

Hypothetical Theological Musings

June 11, 2009 in Christianity, Conviction, Faith, God with 2 Comments

Let’s say I told you I was a runner, had been one for years, and this seemed like it could be plausible to you. You began noticing that I wore a lot of Under Armor. I bought some new Nike Shox. I had a iPod Shuffle with a neoprene arm band and wrap-around sports gear headphones loaded with the “Rockout & Workout” iMix from iTunes. I began reading Runner’s World and measuring distances in kilometers. I even signed up for a marathon and said things like, “I bet I could beat you to the end of the parking lot.” I drank a lot of Vitamin Water.

The only problem was that I was obviously carrying around a lot of extra weight and would get winded just walking up to the second floor. You would invite me to go running with you, but I had the convenient excuse of having always promised someone else I’d go running with them. Finally you convince me, and when I show up we barely make it around the block before I’m wheezing and complaining and call it quits to go home and play Mirror’s Edge on my Xbox.

You shrug your shoulders and figure out that I wasn’t really a runner at all. I put up a good front, but my heart just wasn’t in it.

Now, let’s say the more we spend time together you begin noticing that I talk an awful lot about the threat that Malaria poses to those living in Sub-Saharan Africa. I throw around tons of statistics and speak with informed authority about the transmission process from mosquitoes and the latest treatment and prevention options. I decry how uninformed the majority of the world is about this issue and implore anyone who will listen to help eradicate this disease by “Biting Back.”

You figure this must be something I really care about, and my impassioned speeches have convinced you to do something. So one day you ask me what you can do to help? I stare back at you blankly and say, “I don’t know.” You ask, “well what do you do?” I shrug and say, “nothing, I guess.” I then go into WalMart to buy a can of Off.

Again, you shrug your shoulders and realize that despite all my talk, I can’t really care about it that much. If I did, then wouldn’t I be doing at least something.

Later you’re reading your Bible (because you’re a good Christian, did I not mention that), and you stumble across James 2:14-26. After perusing it for a moment, you stop, think, and something occurs to you. “Aha!” you say.