What About Us?

From Chapter 1 of Radical, by David Platt:

What if I were a potential disciple being told to drop my nets?  What if you were the man whom Jesus told to not even say goodbye to his family? What if we were told to hate our families and give up everything we had in order to follow Jesus?

This is where we come face to face with a dangerous reality. We do have to give up everything we have to follow Jesus. We do have to love Him in a way that makes our closest relationships in this world look like hate. And it is entirely possible that He will tell us to sell everything we have and give it to the poor.

But we don’t want to believe it. We’re afraid of what it might mean for our lives. So we rationalize these passages away. “Jesus wouldn't really tell us not to bury our father or say goodbye to our family. Jesus didn't literally mean to sell all we have and give it to the poor. What Jesus really meant was ...”

And this is where we need to pause. Because we’re starting to redefine Christianity. We’re taking the Jesus of the Bible and molding Him into our image—a nice, middle-class, American Jesus. A Jesus who doesn't mind materialism and who’d never call us to give away all we have. A Jesus who wouldn't expect us to forsake our closest relationships so that He receives all our affection. A Jesus who is fine with nominal devotion that doesn't infringe on our comforts, because, after all, He loves us just the way we are. A Jesus who wants us to be balanced, who wants us to avoid dangerous extremes, and who, for that matter, wants us to avoid danger altogether. A Jesus who brings us comfort and prosperity as we live out our Christian spin on the American dream.

But do you realize what we are doing at this point?  We are molding Jesus into our image.  He is beginning to look a lot like us because, after all, that is whom we are most comfortable with.  And the danger now is that when we gather in out church buildings to sing and lift up out hands in worship, we may not actually be worshiping the Jesus of the Bible.  Instead we may be worshiping ourselves.

Craig's List

Son (re: selling something through craigslist): "But what if they guy who says he wants to buy them, has a machine gun?"
Mom: "I don't think he is going to have a machine gun."
Son: "I know. If he has a machine gun, I will just give him the matchbox cars."
Mom: "That's a very good idea!"

"Making Out"

10 Year Old Son: "Dad, what is 'making out?'"
Dad: "Uh,...it's when you kiss your wife multiple times."
Son: "Yeah, or someone you're in love with, right?"
Dad: "Uh...let's just leave it at 'wife.'"

Celebrating "Yes" 19 years later

Warning: Recycled Post. Originally posted on 7/23/07


Nineteen years ago, I had the privilege of participating in a short term mission project. My girlfriend Tina and I had been actively involved with Campus Crusade for Christ and this was where we had essentially met and built our relationship. Tina and I had been dating for about a year and a half when we felt led to go with Operation Mobilization to Birmingham and Bradford, England. The trip was life-changing in so many ways. Seeing people learn about Jesus and grow in their faith as well as being able to serve alongside other believers from every corner of the globe was an experience I will not soon forget. But I have to say the biggest part of this trip; the part that has changed my life the most, (and for the better), was the evening of July 23rd, 1991. Seventeen years ago today.

After spending the day doing direct/assertive evangelism in Birmingham, the large group of international missionaries were to go back to the Elim church where we were having evening meetings. This usually consisted of dinner, worship and a message. Well, Tina and I were on different teams and hadn't seen each other all day so I had asked my team leader, Ian, for a place I could go in the evening with my girlfriend. So when we got to the church, I told Tina that we were playing "hookie" from the meetings and going out to dinner.

The day was typical of England in mid-July. A light drizzle and temperature in the 50-60 degree range. Not ideal I suppose but there is something about an English rain that makes it a little less of a downer. (I was amazed by how little the weather affects the English. I suppose when it's something you're used to, it doesn't bother you). Well, I took Ian's advice and we headed to a local street where there were a number of restaurants. There was even one touted as "American Cuisine," but we opted to pass on that. We settled on a place appropriately called "Valentino's." It being a Tuesday, the place was empty and quiet. I asked if what we were wearing was acceptable and he told us to come on in. After 10 days or so in Europe, it was really nice to get away by ourselves and not have to think about everything going on around us. We sat by candlelight and I think we talked about the future and probably talked about the mission trip we were on, but it's hard to recall. I can't remember much of the conversation, but being in love, I'm sure it was good. Tina and I shared our dinners: Chicken Marsala and Spaghetti Bolognese. Afterwards, I asked the host if we could take the candle with us for memorabilia. He probably thought we were being silly, but of course he said "yes." A half-burned candle isn't something you keep on a table anyhow but it was a nice reminder for us. When we left, I noticed that the rain had finally stopped. This was an incredible blessing because I was hoping we could find a nice place to sit after dinner before heading back. We walked up the hill we had come down earlier and stopped at a BP "Petrol" station to ask for directions/advice. This being "pre-blackberry," we were at the mercy of a local in order to find some place to go. We asked the lady at the counter if there was a park or something nearby to walk to and she mentioned there was one but wasn't sure if it was walking distance from there. Just then a local cab driver came in and he told us about Grove Park and said it was a little far to walk. He offered to take us as a courtesy! What are the chances that the rain would stop and a cab driver would take us there for no charge? We thanked the man profusely and Tina gave him some Smarties as a "thank you." (Smarties are not American smarties...they're like M&M's).

The park had a nice pond and the sun was just behind the trees from where we sat. Again we continued our conversation and enjoyed the serenity of the evening. Very few people were out, and we felt like we had the place to ourselves. With the rain stopped it had turned into a pleasant evening. I was pleased with how the evening had turned out. In some ways it was how I had hoped it would be when I proposed to my wife. So with my heart in my throat and my knees on the ground, I slipped a ring on Tina's finger and asked her to marry me. I don't know what possessed her to do so, but after a moment of disbelief, she said "yes."


Engagement is often overlooked as far as a milestone. However when you think about this, engagement is a huge commitment! It is my belief that engagement is where the real commitment is and the ceremony follows later. The man is essentially saying, "I'm all in," and for a moment which seems like eternity, waits to hear the response. In my case, Tina said she was "all in" too. Once this is done, it's extremely difficult for a couple to turn back. I have a hard time seeing how a once-spurned proposal could turn into a happy marriage. I'm sure it's done, but I suspect that it's not a point of fond memories and I'm guessing a lot of folks go their separate ways after such an occasion. For me, I was incredibly blessed. Tina is as close to a perfect complement to me as there can be. It is hard, and virtually unthinkable for me to think of life without her. She's an incredible wife and mother of our two boys.

Like many, when you participate in a short term mission project, you experience things that alter your perception of life. You become a more open-minded and loving person and you have experiences that you will never forget. Although this was one of the many memories from the trip, it was also the one that made the most impact on me. Anyone who knows Tina, knows how loving and caring she is and I have the honor and privilege to spend virtually every day of my life with her. What more could I ask for?

Tina,
thanks for saying "yes" 19 years ago and for loving me "no matter what" since then. I love you.

The Scar

Sunny late summer mornings in Northern New Jersey are beautiful and this day was no exception.  The sky was clear and the sun was bright.  The air was already saying it was early fall.  Living west of my workplace meant that sun glare would cause delays and make for a longer commute to work.  Thankfully, my job didn’t start until 9am.  Nevertheless, I was running behind which was often the case, especially with an 18 month boy at home with my wife, Tina.  While traveling Route 10 in Morris county, I listened to the local Christian station for a while and figuratively rolled my eyes at the annoying traffic.  Many of the schools were starting back and that made the traffic even worse.  I didn’t like being late although it happened fairly frequently.  I was just over halfway to work when I grew tired of the radio station, so a few minutes before 9 I switched the radio to the local (NYC) Top 40 station.  It didn’t take long before I realized by the tone of Scott Shannon’s voice that something was wrong.  He said something along the lines of, “We’re not sure exactly what has happened, but it is something horrible.”  I woke up a little more and switched to news radio at WABC in New York.  It was then I found out that what appeared to be a plane had flown into one of the towers of the World Trade Center.  They went to the phones where an eyewitness on the streets in Manhattan began to recount what he had seen.  I was amazed…and shocked!  I imagined in my head a small private plane and an explosion as I listened intently to what this guy was describing…but it wasn’t over.  Just then, the caller exclaimed, “Oh my God, another one!.  The other tower is hit!  The heat!…”  My jaw dropped and my hand covered my mouth- a gesture I had never remembered making before and hope to never make again.  I was completely shocked as I moved over a couple lanes to exit off route 10 in Parsippany to make the last few turns into my work.  I wondered if the cars around me had heard what I had heard.  And were they were struggling to drive because of it.  Thoughts rushed through my head as I continue to listened.  I remember WABC having an “expert” on soon after who said, “Well, it’s too early to determine whether this was a true act of terrorism or not.”  That remains the most ridiculous thing I remember hearing on that day.  Everybody knew.  It wasn’t wondering whether it was terrorism, it was wondering who the terrorists were.

I arrived at work and went to the row where my desk was and asked if anyone had heard what had happened.  I can’t remember who had or hadn’t, but I do remember telling one of the managers about it as well.  Later, before I left New Jersey for North Carolina, he told me he would never forget me, because I was the one who told him about what had happened that morning.  I don’t know how I feel about being remembered this way.  I wasn’t the scar, but I was telling Frank he was about to have one.  I did the same, I’m sure, when I told my wife over the phone to “Turn on the news.”  News travelled quickly in the office of course, and with it feelings of shock and adrenaline.  My boss actually told us to keep working.  Really?  Work?  There was no way to concentrate.  We were paralyzed.  But work?  Not anytime soon, I’m sure.  You need focus for that.  About an hour later, someone got wind of the Pentagon, but that was further away and my head couldn’t digest that now that the numbness had set in.  Someone then heard that the first tower had collapsed.  I thought perhaps a few hundred people would be killed at impact and that those below would simply walk down the stairs and out into the street, and those above would be rescued by helicopters.  I remembered thinking that if it collapsed straight downward that couldn’t be too bad because surely everyone was out of the tower by then. It was a naive thought, but it’s still in my head.   We were numb.  We would be for, not hours, but days.  By late morning, we were leaving for home.  Traffic was heavy again with everyone thinking the same thing; “I just want to be home with my family.”  I remember hugging my wife and then watching the news…all day.  It was ironic to see my 18 month old play while this was all unfolding.  He had no idea.  Actually, I still don’t know if he has an idea.  It might be a discussion tonight…

Time becomes hazy and you don’t remember all of your thoughts, but you remember some.  I didn’t know any one who worked in the Trade Center towers, but I knew plenty of people who could have been there that morning “on business.”  I worried about them. I lived within the commuting distance to Manhattan, and some people within our borough were lost, but I didn’t know any of them.  Newscasters spoke of 20,000 estimated deaths in the towers.  There was a sense of irony and relief each time the estimate was lowered.  Sometime during that day I recall thinking how grateful I was for the first day of school and sun glare.  Surely less people had made it to the WTC on time for work due to the change in traffic patterns. 

The days that followed were a blur as well.  It was back to work on the 12th but I don’t recall if I stayed the whole day.  There is one part of the trip on Route 10 where you are up on a large hill and you can see out over New Jersey.  That morning, there was a plume of smoke on the horizon.  Living a good 45-60 minutes from the City, I couldn’t believe I saw what I saw, but I am all but positive that this it.  When I was at work, I wondered if our building would be a target.  It sounds irrational now, but that was the thought.  I taught a class at a local community college.  My first lecture after the attack, my students just stared at me.  Their eyes were clearly saying, “Please don’t make us think. We can’t concentrate.”  It was still too soon to resume “life” so I sent them home.  Somewhere in the midst of it all, life began again, but thoughts remain.  I remember more than one Sunday at church imagining some terrorist coming into the church in the middle of the service and firing on us.  I had plans in my mind on how I would react if this happened.  A few weeks later the anthrax attack, which originated in NJ, hit the news as well.  Within a week, white powder had been sent to our church.  We had a guest speaker that weekend and we ended up borrowing a local reservation hall and having our service their.  Nothing became of the white powder, but it was still terrorism.  A month later, I had a week of training in the CBS building in Manhattan.  Taking the train in, there was one point where you could see the skyline.  Looking at it without those buildings was like looking at someone for the first time after they had lost a limb.  Your brain just didn’t want to compute the change and it hit me once again.  During training, people were still talking about it.  Those who live in the city would talk about the lingering smell from the rubble.  Going home from training, I’d take the subway back to New York Penn and find armed military personnel throughout the station.  I found myself thankful for their out-of-place presence.  From then on, the memories faded.  This was the deepest part of the wound.  The most central part of the scar.  But like scars, memories fade, especially around the edges.  Above is what remains.  Many have taken time over the past eight years to pause, remember and honor.  I have never been too much for that.  Of course I remember.  I may even pause.  I think now is the first time, I have truly tried to recall my thoughts from eight years ago.  There were many of them that have been forgotten, but this is what remains of that time.  Some scars fade and some disappear.  Some remain and become part of who you are.

Renovations: Our new Screened in Porch

This was my first post using an MS tool called Live Writer. I would love to know what people think about the format.

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Father's Day Thoughts

Disclaimer: Personally I try to refrain from being overly sentimental or "mushy" on this blog. This entry fails miserably in this area. If you're looking for humor, especially in the form of sarcasm, you might want to check back on another day.

Father's Day is an interesting time for me. Frankly, my dad was pretty much absent for most of my life. My folks divorced when I was still in preschool. I tell people who ask, that when he divorced my mom, he divorced me as well. Of course our divorce took longer. By the time I was 13, dad didn't really engage in my life. I'd see him at Christmas up until he moved to Florida after my senior year of High School. When he came back a few years later, it was even less frequent. Frankly, this stunk. I'm a pretty affectionate and emotional guy, especially now, and I find myself having to forgive my dad time and time again. The last time I remember my dad telling me he loved me, was the third day of my third year of college. It was right after he told me that he didn't have the money to pay for the school term I had just started. Him saying it then brought attention to the fact that he didn't say it at other times. I always wondered how much he meant it. Dad chose not to participate at a young age and as I got older, I probably didn't make much of an effort either. In 1992, he declined to come to my wedding. His widow doesn't remember why he made this decision. Dad died in 1997. I still love him and wish I could sit down and talk to him about things.

So, with Father's day on us, I ruminate. I think about these things. This isn't to say that all my time with my dad was bad. Actually the time I had with him was good...it just wasn't much time. When Tina and I were dating and both of us knew where things were going, she said one of the nicest things she has ever said to me. She said, "If we ever get married, I hope I can give you a son, so that you can do everything with him that you didn't have the opportunity to do with your dad." It was such a wonderful thing to hear and think about. The thought about having the opportunity to spend time with a son and love, guide, coach, and father him gave me hope and anticipation for healing in the future. Those words were forever engraved in my heart and mind.

I also think about the surrogate fathers from my past. These were guys in my past who in one way or another showed me many flavors of fatherhood. Most of them cared for me even though I didn't belong to them. Other's modeled fatherhood for me. I care a lot about them and today I think about them as well.

Presently, I'm in the middle of it all. I've had seventeen years of marriage and our two kids keep us active, stressed, and sometimes frazzled. Sometimes, it's hard to step back and think about what the family means to me or where we even are in this current stage of life. It occurred to me earlier today that our oldest child is halfway through his childhood. In nine years, he will likely be off to college with his brother joining him three years later. I don't think about this too often. Not because of any reason other than life is busy. Yesterday was busy as well. I spent more hours than I wish to admit working in the yard. It was hot and it took me the rest of the day to cool off. I was exhausted. After dinner, I was laying around the house and the boys were outside in the heat again! They haven't realized yet that you're not supposed to willingly go out in 90 degree heat. I guess that comes with age. Tina had joined them as well. I was alone inside where it was nice and cool. I had absolutely no desire to go out in the heat. I was spent. I got up and went over to our window to see what they were up to. My wife was working on setting up our grill on our new patio, and there was my oldest, Chris, pitching whiffle balls to Andrew. I saw smiles through the sweat and I felt something like a dawning on my heart. "Here it is," I thought. I was reminded of my incredible wife and her precious words before we were married, "I hope I can give you a son." And in my head I responded "There's two! God gave me a wonderful wife who in turn gave me two boys!" I quietly walked a little closer and sneaked out on the patio to watch Chris throw to his brother.
Andrew spots me, and asks as he has many times before, "Dad, can you pitch to us?" It's hot, humid, and miserable.
I respond, "I just want to watch for now." Chris throws to his brother again, as I continue to savor the moment. They were not going to let these last few minutes before bedtime slip away. After thinking about this site a moment or two more, I asked myself, "How could I pass up the opportunity to do with them what I had always wanted?" A moment longer I call out to the boys, "Just a minute. Let me get my shoes on." It was a day early, but it was already the best Father's Day I've ever had.

Mountains and Valleys

While reading this morning, I came across these words by Oswald Chambers in My Utmost for His Highest: "If we continually try to bring back those exceptional moments of inspiration, it is a sign that it is not God we want." (May 1)

This got me thinking. I LOVE those mountaintop experiences! I had one that lasted a while in the fall of '07. (Ironically because I was reading of all books, Ecclesiastes). I'm ready for another one soon! Actually the sooner the better. Of course the analogy goes one step further when it comes to human nature. If all of life was a mountaintop experiences we would feel as if we were on a plateau. But back to the point that Chambers makes above. The Joy we get from these experiences are a great source of fuel and encouragement but they should not be our goal.

Like I mentioned above, these experiences cannot last forever, so what is it that we should make of the valley experiences? Well, here are a few passages regarding this:

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."
-James 1:2-5

"No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it."
-Hebrews 12:11

"In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed."
-1 Peter 1:6-7

So clearly, the valley is well worth it. The mountaintop experience as well as our desire to persevere fuels us for these occasions. What is interesting though is when I see my son struggling with something I feel the pain he is feeling. He is my boy and I dread that he has to go through it.

1. There are times when he is struggling and it's because he needs to learn something. I have to use every ounce of my energy to keep from intervening when he's frustrated. I have to wait for him to figure it out because once he does, he will be all the better for it.
   
2. There are other times when he if going through something and I know that he will be unable to do by himself. His pride often keeps him from asking for help, but I'm waiting...I want him to ask me. I am pleased when he does and very happy to help him figure it out. I also love the "thank you" I receive afterward.
3. Of course there are times when it is completely out of his control to even get close to getting through it without me. When this occurs, he leans on me completely, and I have the opportunity to lovingly push him through the struggle.
   

So I say all of this to ask/extrapolate the following. Does God feel similar to the way I feel when my boys work through an issue? Does he have compassion and sadness while he allows the issue to continue while I work through what I'm learning? Does he patiently wait for my appeal to him when I need his help? And does he lovingly intervene in the times when it is impossible for me to do it on my own? (I suspect he intervenes many times without me even realizing it). Watching my kids work through something provides me with the opportunity to help, to show love and to feel a sense of joy and encouragement when they take the right actions to overcome the trial. Is it possible that my valleys somehow encourage God when I work through them while leaning on him? It's almost like a spiritual give and take if it's true. The mountaintops encourage me and the valleys, perhaps encourage him.

Dual Relationships

A relatively verbatim transcript of last night's dinner conversation...
-------------
Dad: Hey Chris, you know my friend Tim?
Chris: (Puzzled look) Who?
Dad: You know, Tim and Sandee, in Germany?
Chris: Oh, yeah!
Dad: Well he is sort of like the principal of the school where he works, (actually he's more like a superintendent but I'm talking to an 8 year old here). But, he also teaches a class in the high school. And do you know who's in his class now?
Chris: Who?
Dad: His own son!
Chris: (Really puzzled look! Like this is abnormal)
...
Dad: Hey Chris, what would you think if I was your teacher?
(At this point, Chris attempts to evade the question and somehow redirects the conversation. Perhaps on purpose?)
Mom: (smiling...or rather smirking) Daddy, I don't think Chris answered your question.
Dad: I think you're right. Chris, how would you feel if daddy was your teacher?
Chris: (Mentally processing....clearly looking for the most politically acceptable response. This "transcriber" believes he's looking for the answer that won't offend dad.)
Chris: Weird.
(Laughter)
Dad: (With a smile) Weird?
Chris: Yeah, but, well, weird could mean two different things. Like, when I say "weird" I sort of mean "nasty." But sometimes I say "weird" like when something is "cool!" (Side note: Dad needs to work on getting Chris to stop saying "like" so much).
Mom: So weird could mean "nasty" or "cool?"
Chris: Yeah
Mom: So if dad was your teacher, that would be cool then?
Chris: No.
(More laughter, including dad who now redirects the question to his 6 year old.
Dad: Hey Andrew, how would you like it if dad was your teacher in school?
Andrew: I think I would want to snuggle with him!
(Smiles)
Dad: You would, huh?
Andrew: Yeah, and I would want to be the teacher too!
Dad: Hey Andrew, how would you like some dessert? Chris, it's time for bed.
-------------

OK, that last line isn't true. :-)

It amazes me though that an 8 year old can already recognize the complexities of dual relationships. This conversation was definitely worth some laughs.

Pair o' Dime Props: Joyce Theis

As a kid, typically a group of friends seem to congregate at one house. This was the case for me and the house I spent a good portion of my high school and college years belonged to John and Joyce Theis. Their house was awesome! A nice stereo in the basement as well as a pool table, dart board, board games and a piano. It was a "party basement." My buddy Jim and his brother Bill had a few parties there too. It seemed that every day after school, we'd head over to Jim's house and shoot pool and listen to Rush, Styx, Boston or Jethro Tull. They'd even let me put on The Kinks from time to time. But this post really isn't about that. It's about the fact that when you spend a lot of time with a good childhood friend at his house, you become extended family. I found myself often calling Jim's folks mom and dad.

"Mom Theis" was a sweetheart! The mom of three of her own kids and adopted as a mom by others, she always seemed to have a nice smile for you. If you were lucky she'd even greet you with a kiss. Despite spending most of the time in the basement playing pool, I have some fond memories of Mrs. Theis. Twenty-five years ago I went to Christmas Eve service with the Theis family. It was the first time I ever took communion. She was kneeling next to me at the altar of their Lutheran church and I remember her uttering "Amen" as she received the elements. Mrs. Theis was completely deaf in one ear and had about 10% hearing in the other one. In church she sang out with gusto and you knew it sounded perfect to her heavenly father. Soon after this, Mr. and Mrs. Theis taught me and Jim how to play bridge and I had the privilege of spending many evenings playing cards with them. Mrs. Theis was from Georgia and had that wonderful Georgia drawl. She would occasionally say with the accent, "That makes me madder than a wet hen!" For some reason, I absolutely loved hearing her say that.

About six or seven years ago, Mrs. Theis was diagnosed with Lung Cancer. Knowing the gravity of that particular form of cancer I know many of her friends were praying for Mrs. Theis. She was about 72 or 73 when she was diagnosed and that made things even more concerning. Thankfully, God gave those around her another six or seven years to enjoy her company until she passed away this past Friday. I've been told she was ready, willing and waiting, so the sadness is for those who knew her. I'll miss her smile, her greeting, her beef stew and her apple cake. She's a wonderful lady who can now can take deep breaths, hear everything around her and still sing with gusto. I hadn't seen Mrs. Theis for a few years, but I will still miss her. I will make her apple cake later this week and will think about her during Christmas when I have communion.

First Days and a New Chapter

Well it has been an eventful week in our home. After having an open house at our kids' school on Monday, my wife has been working non-stop to prepare for a new school year. This was a big one, especially for my youngest who I dropped off at Kindergarten earlier today. Mr. Self-Confident had no problem with it. He eats up the idea of going to school, will eat up the social interaction, and if they aren't careful, will also eat up his teachers. :-) His charm is a bit blinding at times.

Tina and I remark frequently on how different our two boys are. The older son is reserved most of the time whereas the younger would just assume be center stage. The older is the thinker and the younger the doer. Both are blessings and we celebrate their differences. Our older one, being the thinker began 3rd grade on Wednesday. It's a "transition year" with a theme of "responsibility." They gave him a planner and there are rumors of hours of homework. I'm hoping he will teach me how to be organized and responsible some day. :-) We're very thankful for our small school and the enthusiasm and energy the staff has for these kids.

As for Tina and me, well we have a new chapter in front of us. Two "full time students" in the house which will bring us some challenges no doubt. We're grateful for these boys and consider ourselves incredibly blessed to have them in our lives for a season.

Pair o' Dime Props: Jonadab and the Recabites

Yeah, you heard right and it's not the name of a musical group. This morning, I was reading Jeremiah 35 which is an account of a tribe called the Recabites. During this time, God wasn't very pleased with how the Israelites were behaving and he asked Jeremiah (in verse 2) to

"Go to the Recabite family and invite them to come to one of the side rooms of the house of the LORD and give them wine to drink."

Jeremiah of course did this and when he asked the Recabites to drink the wine, the response he got was

"We do not drink wine, because our forefather Jonadab son of Recab gave us this command: 'Neither you nor your descendants must ever drink wine.....' We have obeyed everything our forefather Jonadab son of Recab commanded us..."

See what I mean? What's more is I did a quick study and apparently this tribe was about 200 years old. This is impressive. What hit me the hardest was the influence of a father. I mean, don't drink wine is one thing, but to basically say, that throughout history, I command you to never drink wine. That's huge! If Jonadab were here today, I'd say, "Hey thanks! You've set the bar pretty hard for us dads who are just trying to get our kids to do their homework and obey in school." I'd then follow that up with something along the lines of, "How did you do that?" I think with this alone he has set himself up as one of the best dads in the history of Man. Second, the Recabites had maintained a great respect for their previous generations. No doubt this was reinforced by each set of parents, but again, I'm impressed by the legacy of maintaining a certain behavior.

Oh, and God was impressed too:

"You have obeyed the command of your forefather Jonadab and have followed all his instructions and have done everything he ordered. Jonadab son of Recab will never fail to have a man to serve me."

So, for today, props go to Jonadab and his descendants. Well done!

Side Note: This in no way is some sort of endorsement of abstaining from wine. God used the Recabites' faithfulness to their forefather's commands as a way of exhorting the Israelites on how they should be behaving. He essentially said these people are following the commands of a man, and yet you will not follow the commands of Almighty God. It was not to tell the Israelites not to drink wine. Anyone who may think because of this we should abstain from wine should read the whole text where it says the Recabites also did not work the land and refused to build houses. This being said, I do not want to discourage anyone from being teetotaling tent-dwellers either.

Seventeen Years Ago

Warning: Recycled Post. Originally posted on 7/23/07


Seventeen years ago, I had the privilege of participating in a short term mission project. My girlfriend Tina and I had been actively involved with Campus Crusade for Christ and this was where we had essentially met and built our relationship. Tina and I had been dating for about a year and a half when we felt led to go with Operation Mobilization to Birmingham and Bradford, England. The trip was life-changing in so many ways. Seeing people learn about Jesus and grow in their faith as well as being able to serve alongside other believers from every corner of the globe was an experience I will not soon forget. But I have to say the biggest part of this trip; the part that has changed my life the most, (and for the better), was the evening of July 23rd, 1991. Seventeen years ago today.

After spending the day doing direct/assertive evangelism in Birmingham, the large group of international missionaries were to go back to the Elim church where we were having evening meetings. This usually consisted of dinner, worship and a message. Well, Tina and I were on different teams and hadn't seen each other all day so I had asked my team leader, Ian, for a place I could go in the evening with my girlfriend. So when we got to the church, I told Tina that we were playing "hookie" from the meetings and going out to dinner.

The day was typical of England in mid-July. A light drizzle and temperature in the 50-60 degree range. Not ideal I suppose but there is something about an English rain that makes it a little less of a downer. (I was amazed by how little the weather affects the English. I suppose when it's something you're used to, it doesn't bother you). Well, I took Ian's advice and we headed to a local street where there were a number of restaurants. There was even one touted as "American Cuisine," but we opted to pass on that. We settled on a place appropriately called "Valentino's." It being a Tuesday, the place was empty and quiet. I asked if what we were wearing was acceptable and he told us to come on in. After 10 days or so in Europe, it was really nice to get away by ourselves and not have to think about everything going on around us. We sat by candlelight and I think we talked about the future and probably talked about the mission trip we were on, but it's hard to recall. I can't remember much of the conversation, but being in love, I'm sure it was good. Tina and I shared our dinners: Chicken Marsala and Spaghetti Bolognese. Afterwards, I asked the host if we could take the candle with us for memorabilia. He probably thought we were being silly, but of course he said "yes." A half-burned candle isn't something you keep on a table anyhow but it was a nice reminder for us. When we left, I noticed that the rain had finally stopped. This was an incredible blessing because I was hoping we could find a nice place to sit after dinner before heading back. We walked up the hill we had come down earlier and stopped at a BP "Petrol" station to ask for directions/advice. This being "pre-blackberry," we were at the mercy of a local in order to find some place to go. We asked the lady at the counter if there was a park or something nearby to walk to and she mentioned there was one but wasn't sure if it was walking distance from there. Just then a local cab driver came in and he told us about Grove Park and said it was a little far to walk. He offered to take us as a courtesy! What are the chances that the rain would stop and a cab driver would take us there for no charge? We thanked the man profusely and Tina gave him some Smarties as a "thank you." (Smarties are not American smarties...they're like M&M's).

The park had a nice pond and the sun was just behind the trees from where we sat. Again we continued our conversation and enjoyed the serenity of the evening. Very few people were out, and we felt like we had the place to ourselves. With the rain stopped it had turned into a pleasant evening. I was pleased with how the evening had turned out. In some ways it was how I had hoped it would be when I proposed to my wife. So with my heart in my throat and my knees on the ground, I slipped a ring on Tina's finger and asked her to marry me. I don't know what possessed her to do so, but after a moment of disbelief, she said "yes."


Engagement is often overlooked as far as a milestone. However when you think about this, engagement is a huge commitment! It is my belief that engagement is where the real commitment is and the ceremony follows later. The man is essentially saying, "I'm all in," and for a moment which seems like eternity, waits to hear the response. In my case, Tina said she was "all in" too. Once this is done, it's extremely difficult for a couple to turn back. I have a hard time seeing how a once-spurned proposal could turn into a happy marriage. I'm sure it's done, but I suspect that it's not a point of fond memories and I'm guessing a lot of folks go their separate ways after such an occasion. For me, I was incredibly blessed. Tina is as close to a perfect complement to me as there can be. It is hard, and virtually unthinkable for me to think of life without her. She's an incredible wife and mother of our two boys.

Like many, when you participate in a short term mission project, you experience things that alter your perception of life. You become a more open-minded and loving person and you have experiences that you will never forget. Although this was one of the many memories from the trip, it was also the one that made the most impact on me. Anyone who knows Tina, knows how loving and caring she is and I have the honor and privilege to spend virtually every day of my life with her. What more could I ask for?

Tina,
thanks for saying "yes" 17 years ago and for loving me "no matter what" since then. I love you.

Pair o' Dime Props: Fathers

It's been a few days since I've posted, but I can't let this day go without acknowledging dad's. Father's who engage in the lives of both their children and the mothers of their children provide a stable environment for all. To me, there is something special about a male role model. I was not fortunate enough to grow up with my dad, and although there are things about him that were good, this post is to give thanks to men in my past who have mentored me in some way. Some of them aren't even old enough to be my dad, but they modeled behaviors and/or shared their heart in a way that impacted who I've become. (The positive bits of who I've become :-) ). So today, I raise a glass to the following people:

Tom Spittal
Ralph Small
Dave Bratton
Loren Freshwater
John Theis
Don Mechlem
Tony Bonacci
George Jonson
David Ziels
LeMont Jacobs

These men have shown me how they raise their children, treated me like their son, or shared with me godly wisdom that has helped mold my spiritual life. All of which I count as treasures and today, I am thankful that I have known them.

Our first Dinner Debate

With an 8 and 5 year old at the table, I think today we had our first family debate today. A friendly debate it was although my 8 year old and his mom found themselves on different sides of it. No insults were thrown but there has been no real resolution or even compromise. The debate rages on. The question: Is Clifford an indoor dog or an outdoor dog? I think I know the answer, but I don't want to take sides.

Pair o' Dime Props: Back Creek Christian Academy (ACSI)

Today was my oldest son's last day of his first year at Back Creek Christian Academy. He finished second grade and we were proud of how we did. This school, it's mission and it's staff have been nothing but respectful and loving to the students and parents they serve. From the moment we met their principal, Janet Ballard, to Christopher's last day in Mrs. Roundtree's 2nd grade class, we have felt well-served by this school. Next year we have the privilege of sending both of our sons here.
On a similar note, I was looking at the results of our son's achievement tests for the year and noticed that they have percentile scores related to the national average as well as the ACSI (Association of Christian Schools International) average. This was interesting to me because the percentile scores are lower within ACSI. What this says is that ACSI students perform better than the national average. This is NOT the primary reason we send our son to a Christian school, but it is encouraging to know that he can be challenged by the curriculum in an ACSI accredited school.

Theology of a Child

Lately I've been getting a kick out of things my kids have been saying. The latest one was my five year old telling me that you have to accept Jesus as Savior or you will go to "hail." Now, I suppose if I grew up in North Carolina that wouldn't seem as funny, but I'm from Ohio. We don't pronounce it that way.

After he said this we asked him if he had accepted Jesus, and he told us he had...three times! I think I need to work a little more on his theology, but we're on the right track.

One small step for "Hardinkind"

Trivial as it may be just over two weeks ago I stood in the waters of the Pacific Ocean in LaJolla, Callifornia:
And today my family and I returned from a weekend at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina:The Pacific and the Atlantic in two weeks. Not a real big deal for many, but I think it's kind of cool. :-)

Car Transactions

Saying goodbye to what some called my "mid-life crisis car"....


The Mini was fun, high performance and looked awesome. It also caused me worry and stress due to BMW-priced repairs, natural wear and tear, and limited practicality and the smallest little blemish. These distractions this caused canceled out the joy of driving it for me. It was sold to a mechanic who works for Dale Earnhardt, Inc. He was very happy and the things that cause me stress will probably not do the same for him. Although I will miss it, it was a good departure.

Saying hello to my "back to practicality car"....


The Vibe is sporty, and virtually the same as a Matrix. We will be able to travel in this car instead of the minivan and it will get better mileage/dollar than the Mini. It's got so much more room. Financial savings alone made this a logical transaction, and it's pretty sharp smart looking in my opinion.

"Hey remember that one Easter when...?

when the Chapman and Davis families came over for the afternoon meal and afterwards Christopher and Andrew were playing baseball in the back yard with Joshua? And remember how they were trying to tag each other out and then Christopher and Andrew collided at third base causing Andrew to fall onto the cement patio face first?"

"Ha, yeah, it looked pretty bad, that's for sure. I couldn't believe how quickly he got up considering how it sounded when he hit! Yeah, and do you remember what his lip looked like and how everything about the day stopped while his mom washed him up?

"Hey, what ever happened to that white shirt he was wearing?"

"Well, it WAS white. His mom threw it away."

"Oh, and then Mr. Davis and his dad got ready and took take him to the Urgent care?"

"Oh yeah, and most of the Urgent Cares were closed because it was Easter, and then after hours of waiting and trying to get him treated, and after one doctor said he would need stitches, the doctor who treated him gave him a Popsicle and sent him home?"

"Yeah...all of that for a Popsicle and some amoxicillin."

"Yeah, that was hilarious."

Well...it will be about five years from now.