Everything Changes...

I'm sitting on my couch with my five-year-old stepson.  He's watching A Dolphin's Tale on DVD, wearing his Avengers pajamas and holding his lavender bunny.  I'm watching my wife.  She's lying on the loveseat deeply engrossed in whatever is on her cellphone's screen... probably Pinterest or something.  (Insert imaginary photo here.  You know, the photo that I just secretly took but am terrified to post without her permission.) Yep, she just texted me a photo she found on Pinterest.

It's moments like this that burn themselves into my mind with the intensity of white-hot steel, leaving indelible memories like the marks my old wood-burner left on pieces of pine during my youth.  These are memories cemented to my soul by the strongest adhesive ever--emotion.

My beautiful wife and I are expecting a baby.  She was actually due five days ago.  

This has been a rough pregnancy, with multiple trips to the emergency room and not a small amount of stress.    For the past week my wife hasn't been able to move the left side of her face due to the sudden onset of Bell's Palsy, adding substantially to Krystal's discomfort and stress.

Tomorrow everything changes.  Tomorrow the doctor will induce Krystal.  We're not sure how we feel about the induction, but considering some of the difficulties Krystal has been facing, the doctor thinks it's a good idea.

So, tomorrow we will finally meet our little Palin Nichole face to face.  Tomorrow will be her birthday, and my heart swells with the possibilities.  We've talked to her, sung to her, rubbed her back (or whatever was protruding from Krystal's abdomen) and prayed for her.  We're thrilled that she'll be in our arms by this time tomorrow.

I think about her future.  I think of how she'll look and the smell of her hair.  I think about how she'll drool as she grows and begins to teethe.  I think of her school years and boys and high school dances.  I think about the gift I will give her on her wedding day and the heart-rending pain in my chest as I walk her down the aisle to give her to her husband.

I think about our little family unit, and how it will never quite be the same.  I think about that beautiful lady on the loveseat and this great little boy beside me.  I think about my sons in Nevada, Adam and Isaac and the bridges that are being rebuilt there.

Everything changes.  Tomorrow marks not only Palin's first breath of fresh air, her first glimpse of light, or the first time we get to touch her skin.  It marks a paradigm shift in our family structure.  Everything we've come to see as "the norm" changes tomorrow.  

And I welcome it.  

I welcome her.

Palin Nichole Land

The Cult of Juvenility in America

We recently endured a very long and arduous political campaign season.  Pundits pontificated, politicians polled and pandered, the media manipulated and voters vacillated.  The volume of news, non-news and outright falsehoods that saturated the airwaves and the internet was deafening.  People were passionate about their beliefs and more than willing to share them.  I know.  I was one of those people.

Being an observer of human nature, I was fascinated by the acidity with which many addressed one another. Insults flew, names were called, characters were assaulted, and intelligence was questioned.  I know.  I was one of those people as well.

I found myself easily angered by the obstinance of anyone whose views varied from mine.  Don't get me wrong, my views have not changed or softened in the slightest when it comes to the liberal vs. conservative debate.  My views are based on history, logic, evidence.  However, I also recognize that others have views about which they are just as passionate and to which they are just as committed.

Having listened to a lot of pundits and pontificators over the past few years, people on both sides of the political bird, I have heard one disturbing thing that was common among them.  Name-calling and immaturity.  

We on the right were outraged by Joe Biden's derisive laughter during the Vice Presidential Debate.  We were angered by Barack Obama's sarcastic vitriol during the Presidential Debates.  We become inflamed every time Harry Reid or Nancy Pelosi open their mouths.  Rightfully so.  However, do we have the moral high ground here?

"Obozo"

"Obummer"

"Idiot in Chief"

"BoBo the Clown"

"His O'liness"

"Osama Obama"

"Ovomit"

These are all things that I've heard conservatives say to refer to President Obama.  Many of these things were spoken by conservative talk show hosts, others posted on blogs and in articles.

I'm guilty, too.  I've been so frustrated and angry about the President's policies that I've condescended to name calling.  However, I was wrong to do so.  

What right do we have to be upset when someone whose opinions differ from ours insults someone we admire when we're spewing the same kind of ignorant bile in our conversations?

This is not how we win the next election.  This is not how we sway the opinions of others and convince them of the value of conservative ideals.  Shame on us for playing to the lowest common denominator and resorting to juvenile name-calling like fifth graders on a playground!  We have logic on our side.  We have history on our side.  How can we expect to win the all-important debates on economics, national security and public policy when we're acting this way?  This is what they do!  We don't have to talk this way to win.

Here's what we need to do.  We need to demonstrate logically and calmly how conservative philosophies, when put into action, benefit the listener.  We demonstrate, passionately but respectfully, how the logic of the left falls apart.  We draw the timeline, and show how it diverges from a workable or acceptable solution.

In short, we win by being different than our opponents, not mimicking them.  

We've become a nation of juveniles.  We've "dumbed down" our maturity level to the point that our forefathers would be mortified.  I propose that we live up to the intellectual and mature legacy they've left for us.  Let us elevate our speech, even if they will not.  Then, the contrast between us will be regained.

Daily Whim 11-04-2012

This is an unusual time in my life.  I'm sitting in my living room with The Pursuit of Happyness playing on the DVD player.  To my left, my mother is sitting in the brown faux-leather chair.  To my right, my wife sits on the love-seat eating a leftover piece of cake from yesterday's baby shower.  Against the wall is a table that holds a pile of gifts brought to the shower by friends and family.  Above our fireplace is a banner that says "Baby Shower" in bright colors and cute shapes.

Krystal's good friend, Mallory, is on her way over to hang out with Krystal for a bit. Tiegen is sitting on the couch next to me, eating a cookie and dropping crumbs on my shoulder.

In the midst of it all, I feel the need to write.

It's an interesting time.  Krystal's doctor has said that Krystal is dilating and her body is prepared to go into labor.  She could, literally, go into labor at any time.

A month ago, the Davis Cellular store I managed was acquired by a larger company called Z Wireless.  It came as a bit of a shock at first, but as time has gone by, I've come to realize that there are many more opportunities for me with Z Wireless.  It's growing rapidly, and opportunities for advancement come far more often.  As much as I loved working for Davis Cellular, I believe God has His hand in this.

So, here I sit:  pregnant wife on one side expecting to go into labor any moment, adjusting to a new work culture, wondering who is going to cover my store when I have to head to the hospital, preparing to vote in one of the most crucial elections in recent history, and desperately... desperately needing a day of solitude.

It isn't that I don't want to be around my family.  Not in the slightest.  It's that I simply need everything to pause for just one day while my brain tries to catch up.  There's a lot of jumbled thoughts bouncing around inside my skull -- thoughts about finances, about patriotism, about family dynamics -- thoughts about health, about the age of our car, about how five-year-old Tiegen is going to handle having a baby invading his life -- about ministry, about dreams, about what the next step is in the journey God has called me into -- about relatives, about lawn mowing, about coffee and how it's helped me survive this last freakishly fast month.  My mind is spinning.

A few months ago, I went to my oldest son's high school graduation.  He's eighteen and ready to launch his Air Force career.  My second son is fourteen and an amazing guy whose options in life are limitless.  I long so deeply to be close to them.  Tiegen, Krystal's five-year-old son, is an outstanding young man whose bright, cheerful personality and impressive intelligence make him a joy to be around.

But it's weird.  I have an eighteen-year-old son and am about to have a newborn daughter.  Wrap your mind around that for a moment.

Yesterday our house was loaded with people who came for the baby shower.  It was energetic and... well... crowded.  Everyone was very nice and gracious.  Everyone was happy and supportive, and there were no problems.  But it was a social environment for which I was not prepared.

This is one of those posts in which I become exceptionally transparent.  You see, I've been in front of people all my life.  I've preached, taught, sung, and acted.  I have no trepidation, whatsoever, about being in front of hundreds or even thousands of people.  I've sung on television.  The largest live audience in front of whom I've sung was around fourteen thousand.  No problem.

But, put me in a room with a bunch of people with whom I have to personally interact, and I break out in a cold sweat.  It's not fear.  It's dread.  There's a difference.  I don't like it.  I do almost anything I can to avoid it.

It really has very little to do with the people in the group.  It's something inside me.

I'm a man of solitude.  I have to have it.  I always have.

When I lived in Alaska and I felt this way, I had a wonderful outlet.  I would take a day off and drive to Eklutna Lake (pictured below).  I would rent a kayak and spend the day paddling around the serene waters and feeling the breeze.  On one side I'd see a moose meandering among the trees and on the other a fox, or sometimes a bear.  An eagle would screech overhead and fish would periodically splash in the water.  I'd paddle for a few hours and pull in to rest along the shore (in the event that there weren't any random wild creatures nearby).

When I was there, I was at peace.  I could go all day and never see another person.  There were no power boats.  There were no electronic devices.  There was no need for interaction.  I could think, sing, pray, hope, and dream.

Since I moved to Missouri at the end of 2005, I have not experienced that.  Not once.  I've tried.  When I was working as the minister of music at Morrisville Assembly, I took a week and went to Table Rock Lake, outside of Branson.  I borrowed a canoe because they don't know what a real kayak is around here.  (A real kayak, not one of those stubby little plastic ones that bob around the rivers and creeks and creates so much drag in the water that you have to work exceptionally hard just to get it to move.  I'm talking about the long, sleek, smooth kayaks that glide nearly effortlessly and gracefully, leaving a long, narrow V-shaped ripple on the quiet water's surface.)  I found a campsite right at the edge of the water.  I got in late in the evening and set up the tent.  Then I cooked some food over the fire and bedded down for the night.

In the morning, I awoke to what sounded like the pit area at a NASCAR race.  When I walked to the water's edge, I saw why.  I was camped across a small lagoon from a major boat dock.  People were working on their boats, revving their engines, using power tools, yelling over the noise of the engines, and otherwise reveling in the freedom to desecrate the silence and create oil slicks.

I shrugged my shoulders and dragged the canoe into the water.  I boarded and began to paddle.  I was on the water about ten minutes and I'd only been sworn at by two power boat drivers as they blew past me.  Both had felt the necessity of circling around, creating a huge swell that nearly capsized me, and stopping to mock my motorless transportation.  Then the clouds rolled in and a Southwest Missouri thunderstorm began.

I paddled back to the shore, turned the canoe upside down and crawled into the tent where I spent the next four days stubbornly refusing to go home despite the weather and the incessant dripping of the water into the inside of the tent.

I've been camping a couple of times since then, but never in solitude.

In solitude is self-analysis.  In solitude is growth.  In solitude is learning.  In solitude is peace.  In solitude is healing.

It's not about being away from the people I love.  It's about being alone with God.  In solitude I can speak out loud to Him.  In solitude I can be transparent.  In solitude I can let my guard down.  In solitude I can be free.

Never Forget, Never Surrender...

September 11, 2001.  I was living in Anchorage, Alaska at the time.  A couple of hours after I started work that morning, I received a phone call from my boss who asked if I'd heard what was going on.  I had no idea what she was talking about.  She said that planes had just crashed into the World Trade Center in New York City.  I immediately began to try to tune in a news broadcast on the stereo system we used in our little restaurant.  The only thing I could find that was discussing the event was NPR, so I began to listen as the horrible morning unfolded.

Within a very short period of time, customers began to come into the restaurant, ashen-faced and in shock that our nation had been attacked in such a brutal and senseless way.  Even though we were thousands of miles from Ground Zero, our sense of security had been shattered.

I arrived at home around four in the afternoon and, for the first time, saw television footage of the attacks and the aftermath.  I wept openly at the idea of the countless people who had obviously lost their lives and the countless more who had lost loved ones.  I watched the shock on the faces of the dust-covered people as they staggered through the streets.  There was no differentiation of ethnicity, no rich, no poor, just...grey.  Everyone was covered in grey.  We were made one in our grief, in our loss, in our shock.  Unified.

As should be expected, it wouldn't take long for people to politicize the event.  Fingers began pointing, talking heads began shouting at one another.  However, in the brief quiet of the aftermath, we were one.

We were a nation with the wind knocked out of us.  From 3,370 miles away, Alaskans felt unity with our countrymen in New York City.

A bold attack in the most visible of places:  New York City, the Pentagon, and a failed attempt at an attack on Washington, DC, had sucked the oxygen from the atmosphere, leaving us all gasping for breath.  Immediately, people all over the country started assessing the strategic importance of potential targets in their neighborhoods.  Would terrorists strike the Pipeline in Alaska?  How about the bridges in the San Francisco area?  No one knew, and we all held our collective breath for the next blow.

Over time, the United States has shifted her view from the tragedy of September 11.  We've lost our national anger.  We debate about the trivial and ignore the deadly.

It's been eleven years.  Our national memory--peppered with entertainment, vice, and silly politics--has become foggy.  We shrug our shoulders.  We forget the names of those who were lost and those who lost fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters.

My family and I will not forget.  We will continue to pray for those families.  We will continue to pray for and support our military.  We will continue to thank fire fighters, police officers, soldiers, sailors, marines, airmen and guardsmen for their service to the citizenry.  We will continue to be grateful that we live in the greatest nation on earth.  We will continue to thank God for our freedom, for it is He Who provides it.  We will continue to pray for our national leaders, whether we agree with them or not.

This country is worth fighting for.  It's worth dying for.  It's worth losing friends for.  Many get annoyed with the political nature of many of my posts.  I've given that a lot of thought.  While I do not wish that anyone would be displeased with me, this nation is worth every possible effort to save.  I cannot stand by silently and watch people tear her down.  I will not.  It was worth my father fighting for in Vietnam, and it's still worth fighting for.

So, if you're bored with the political nature of my posts, I do not apologize.  Perhaps you could take the time to research and study the facts.  Then, perhaps, you'll find within you the passion to spread the word to others who might be as uninformed as you once were.

Don't let the victims of September 11 slip into history unnoticed.  Keep the subject alive.  Look at the photos.  Watch the videos.  Educate yourself and your children on the facts.  This nation is worth that effort. Too many people have shed their blood for us to simply sit back and remain intellectually fat and lazy.  Wake up, America!

It's been a year now...

On a very hot August 20, 2011, I married an amazingly beautiful woman.  Krystal walked down a little gravel path to meet me in a lovely park in Springfield, Missouri.  The smile on her face was radiant and the lump in my throat was the size of a football.

Krystal and I had dated for four years prior to getting married.  We'd been through some wonderful times and some very difficult ones.  Most importantly, though, we had taken the time to get to know one another as dearest friends.  Krystal and I have personalities that compliment one another flawlessly.

It's hard for me to put into words the feeling I experienced as she appeared that day.  Her beautiful white dress, her amazing eyes, her flawless complexion... these things were obvious to everyone.  However, something deeper was striking me.  This wonderful young woman who has such a wonderful mind and heart had chosen to spend the rest of her life with me.  Me!  There are no words for that realization.  It was overwhelming.

We were gathered with a very small group of people who are very dear to us:  Pastor Tom Matrone of Central Assembly of God; Mike and Debbie Mills, some very dear friends; Marissa Mills; my mother and her fiance, Lowell Hicks; Krystal's son, Tiegen; and our photographer, Heather Fison.  It was a very simple and intimate wedding.  Just the way it was meant to be.

 Right there in the blazing August heat, we shared our vows with one another.  We laughed and celebrated our love for each other.  The setting was perfect.  Through all the planning and stress of outside pressures, we had made it to our big day.  Through the stormy turmoil of planning a large wedding, scrapping those plans and choosing to just elope, to changing the plans again to include these dear ones, we'd learned a lot about ourselves, each other, and our loved ones.  We came to the agreement that our wedding was a day for us.

Things could have gone much more smoothly in the lead-up to the big day, but in the end, we were consumed with happiness.  I'd married the woman of my dreams.  Of all the men she could have chosen, this amazingly pure, loving, intelligent, and beautiful woman had chosen me.  How could I not glow with happiness?

I remember how before anyone knew that we'd started dating, people kept asking me why there seemed to be a sudden spring in my step.  I'd chuckle and shrug my shoulders.  Who knew someone could bring such happiness to my life?

And now we face a future together.  We don't know what the future holds, but we know we'll be holding each other.  Every day I thank God for bringing Krystal into my life.  Every day I marvel at how much of a blessing she is to me.  Every day I am amazed that she chose me.

I love you, Krystal.  I always will.  The grace and beauty that everyone can see on the outside are just a hint of the amazing woman I've come to know beneath the surface.

I've always heard that every little girl grows up to be a woman, but it takes effort, class, and strength to be a lady.  Well, folks, I married a true lady.

Happy first anniversary, love.

RACIST! HOMOPHOBE! INTOLERANT! JUDGMENTAL!

We live in a society that has lost its grip on reality.  No longer are discussions based on facts, but on hyperbole.  People have given up their ability to debate philosophies and logic in favor of quick insults and sarcasm.

We live in a society where it's considered a more serious crime to murder someone who is of a different ethnic background, faith, or sexual preference than it would be to murder someone randomly.  We call it a "hate crime."

Now, I've faced hate in my life.  I've been on both ends of the hate spectrum.  I can sincerely say that I have never hated someone because of their ethnicity, economic status, or sexual preference.  When I've hated, it was in response to specific acts perpetrated against me or those for whom I hold great affection.  Thankfully, though, I've experienced the grace and mercy of God in my life and I no longer hate.

In today's society, though, mere disagreement is considered equivalent to hate.  Let's use a recent example from the realm of current events:

“I think we are inviting God’s judgment on our nation when we shake our fist at Him and say ‘we know better than you as to what constitutes a marriage’ and I pray God’s mercy on our generation that has such a prideful, arrogant attitude to think that we have the audacity to define what marriage is about.” – Dan Cathy, CEO of Chick-Fil-A

Dan Cathy, CEO of Chick-Fil-A voiced his personal religious belief.  It is a belief that coincides with traditional Christian beliefs.  In his quote, does he ever say that he hates homosexuals?  Does he ever say that they are less valuable as human beings?  Does he ever say he desires their destruction?

No.

He said that his business was founded on biblical principles, and that the traditional family dynamic is a part of that foundation.  He clearly shows his traditional Christian leanings in his statements.  But he never speaks hate.  He speaks his religious convictions, but he never speaks with hatred of someone who disagrees with him.

Yet, he's been called a bigot, a fascist (obviously by people who don't know the meaning of the word), a hate-monger, and many other things not suitable for a Christian to repeat.  Simply because he disagrees.

He disagrees with those who are constantly reminding us to be tolerant of opposing viewpoints.

And they've tried to destroy him. (Actually, it's very possible that the stress of this very public kerfuffle led directly to the sudden heart attack of Chick-Fil-A's Vice President of Public Relations, Don Perry.) 

Tolerant of them, isn't it?

I think back with a chuckle to the time I posted an image of Ronald Reagan online.  I was quickly referred to as a racist, even though I had made no comments, whatsoever, about anyone's ethnicity.  I had simply expressed my admiration for Ronald Reagan.  

If I quote a scripture that seems to convict someone of activities in which they choose to participate, I'm called judgmental.  

I find it fascinating that, in the absence of facts or a strong logical argument, many people resort to name-calling and insults.  We've become conditioned to fear certain labels more than anything else.  We fear being labeled a racist, a homophobe, intolerant, or judgmental.  It's really an interesting phenomenon.  

I googled "racism."  Now, if you use Wikipedia as your source for anything of substance, you need your head examined.  However, I found their opening paragraph interesting:

Racism is generally defined as actions, practices, or beliefs that reflect the racial worldview: the ideology that humans are divided into separate and exclusive biological entities called "races". This ideology entails the belief that members of a race share a set of characteristic traits, abilities, or qualities, that traits of personality, intellect, morality, and other cultural behavioral characteristics are inherited, and that this inheritance means that races can be ranked as innately superior or inferior to others.

 Dictionary.com similarly defines racism as:

1.  a belief or doctrine that inherent differences among the various human races  determine cultural or individual achievement, usually involving the idea that one's own race is superior and has the right to rule others.

2.  a policy, system of government, etc., based upon or fostering such a doctrine; discrimination.

3.  hatred or intolerance of another race  or other races. 

Let me take a moment to evaluate myself.  Do I believe that people of any ethnic background are innately superior or have a right to rule others?  No.  Do I believe that people of varying ethnic backgrounds are innately more or less intelligent, moral, or carry specific personality traits based solely on their ethnicity?  No.  Do I refuse to tolerate someone of a different ethnic background?  No.

I just posted a picture of a man I admired.  Guess I'm OK.

Do you realize that a phobia is defined as a persistent, irrational fear of a specific object, activity, or situation that leads to a compelling desire to avoid it? Notice that it doesn't say "a disagreement with a specific object, activity, or situation."  It says an "irrational fear."

I submit to you today that simply because I disagree with homosexuality does not make me homophobic.  I don't fear homosexuality.  I see it as the sin that the Bible says it is.  I have no fear of homosexual activity.  I disagree with it.  Therefore, the term "homophobe" is inaccurate and demonstrates the user's ignorance of the subject.

Is it hateful to disagree with someone?  No.  I don't hate homosexuals.  Their sinful choices are called an abomination in the sight of God, yet He extends His grace and mercy toward them.  God doesn't hate homosexuals, and neither do I.  I have acquaintances and relatives who live a homosexual lifestyle.  They know my stand on the issue, yet they will each--if they're honest--tell you that I have always treated them with respect and compassion.  Telling someone they are violating the tenets of scripture is not hateful, it's helpful.  We are called to "speak the Truth in love."  Telling someone that homosexual activity is sinful and destructive is no different than telling someone that using heroin is sinful and destructive.

Yet, in our morally relativistic society, disagreement equals hate.  

There is a segment of society that revels in using these terms as ammunition.  It's a form of emotional extortion, really.  They silence their opposition by threatening to brand them with a scarlet letter.  You disagree with President Obama?  You must be a racist!  You oppose homosexual marriage?  You're a homophobe!  You disagree with different lifestyles and philosophies?  You're an intolerant bigot!  You take the Bible literally and call Christians to live by that standard?  You're judgmental!

Probably the most quoted--wrongly--scripture by non-believers and followers of aberrant doctrines while calling themselves Christians is from Matthew 7:

1 “Judge not, that you be not judged. ² For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you. ³ And why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not consider the plank in your own eye? ⁴ Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me remove the speck from your eye’; and look, a plank is in your own eye? ⁵ Hypocrite!  

The quoters of  this scripture use this to justify their claims that the "Bible thumper" is judgmental and intolerant.  They wag their finger in your face and warn you that you're treading dangerous ground when you point to scripture and say "this is what the Word says.  Here's how your behavior doesn't line up with that Word."  It's the spiritual version of "racist, bigot, homophobe, etc."

What these people nearly always do is omit the next part of verse five.

First remove the plank from your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.

You see, Jesus did not tell His followers to ignore the sin in the lives of those around them.  He did not tell us it is wrong to hold up the light of scripture and cast that light upon the actions of those who call themselves Christ Followers.  He said, "First, remove the plank from your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye."

This insistence on throwing the "judge not" clause at people is simply a wicked heart's way of avoiding the light of Truth.  Can a person be judgmental?  Yes.  It's wrong.  Just as racism is wrong.  However, to hold up the Word of Truth to someone and point out how their behavior violates that Word is a service, not a judgment.

If it was wrong to call Christians to account for their behavior, then all of Paul's letters have no place in scripture.  Then Jesus was wrong for calling the religious leaders hypocrites.  Then it was pointless for the Bible to be written at all, since it is a book of instructions for our lives.  Throughout scripture we are instructed to judge our own behavior and, yes, that of others.  (Read 1 Timothy 3, where we are instructed on how to choose leaders in the church.  We are called to judge them according to their actions.)  How can it be wrong to do exactly what God has called us to do?  Is God schizophrenic? No.

To judge someone unjustly is wrong.  To write them off as a soul unworthy of being reached and unworthy of salvage is wrong.  To take someone who claims to follow Christ but lives in contradiction to His Word, show them that Word and call them to accountability for their actions is called discipleship.

We live in an "anything goes" society, and the church has adopted this same philosophy.  You can teach anything you want in most churches and be accepted.  Look at false teachers like Joyce Meyer, Benny Hinn,   Joel Osteen and other charlatans.  They have huge followings because they make their listeners feel good about themselves, but never call them to a true biblical holiness.  They're frauds, and will be held to some very high standards by God, Himself.  We have the IHOP movement and the Emergent Church movement that reduces God to a touchy-feely "big papa in the sky" rather than a Holy and Just God who expects His children to be Holy and Just.  These are dangerous movements and dangerous people who are destroying lives.  Their followers are deceived by their flashy shows and the emotional outpouring at their concerts and gatherings.

Well, "anything" does not go.  We simply need more followers of Christ to be more interested in what the Bible says than what they feel.  We need to stop looking at worship as an "experience" and look at it as service to our Creator.  We need to present ourselves a "living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God."  That means setting aside our selfish desires, styles, and practices and doing what He commands.

So, you can call me a racist because I don't approve of our current President.  You can call me a homophobe because I disagree with the sinful lifestyle of homosexuality.  You can call me intolerant because I believe in right and wrong.  You can even call me judgmental because I point to scripture and display ways in which a so-called Christian wanders from it.  Simple fact is, you'd be wrong on all counts.  These are merely inflammatory terms designed to silence your opposition, usually because your opposition is making a solid point and you have no ground upon which to stand.

The Truth will always prevail.  The Truth will always shine gloriously upon the ruins of the world's lies.   You cannot silence it.  You cannot intimidate it.  You should embrace it.  It will make you free.

On Being A Dad

I have two natural sons.  One born in 1994 and one in 1998.  These boys have grown into really impressive young men.  My oldest son has recently graduated high school.  He is preparing to leave for Air Force basic training where he'll begin a career serving our country.

My younger son is an accomplished drummer.  He's still in high school, where his people skills and personality are gaining him a lot of attention.  My sons are articulate, exceptionally smart, have great senses of humor, and are a lot of fun to be around.  I love these young men dearly.

My wife has a son who was born just before we started dating.  He is now five years old and he knows me as Daddy.  He's a talkative little guy whose dream is to be a superhero.  He says that his favorite superheroes are, in this order, the Incredible Hulk (because he has huge muscles), Jesus (because he's the strongest of them all), and me.  

My wife and I married last August.  She is a wonderful woman and a great mom.  She's done an amazing job with Tiegen, and we're very excited about the upcoming arrival of our daughter, Palin Nichole.  She should make her debut around November 13.

I recently got the opportunity to attend my oldest son's high school graduation.  It was the first time I'd seen Adam or Isaac in a very long time.  I'd like to be able to say that I had a major role in shaping these young men into the people they are today, but I can't.  I haven't been there for them as I should have.  Thinking of the time and distance between us tears my heart out.  I have longed for those boys every day since before they were born.  Being separated from them by an unpleasant divorce never altered that fact.  Anyone who is close to me knows that there are times when I would just withdraw into myself and sit in silence because I could think of nothing but my sons.  I'm so grateful for the opportunity to begin rebuilding the bridges that time and distance have eroded.  As I recently sat across a table from them in a restaurant, I see that these are fascinating young men who, even if I weren't their dad, I would want to get to know.  The depth of their thought processes and the warmth of their personalities move me.  There's a light inside them that draws people to them.

My high school reunion is this week, and I was asked to write a short autobiographical record of the past twenty-five years.  As I sat down at the computer and pondered where I've been and what I've done, the most vividly emotional moments were those spent with Adam, Isaac, and Tiegen.  Jobs I've had and places I've lived fade into nothingness next to the memories built with these three guys.  Going to a little northern Nevada county fair with Adam when he was very little, rolling down a grassy hill with Isaac in a park in Oregon, building a "fort" and a cannon for them in Alaska, and splashing in a little plastic pool with Tiegen on a hot summer day.  This is my highlight film.  I haven't always been the best dad.  I haven't been where I needed to be when I needed to be there.  But the love I have for my sons is beyond description.

In November, Palin Nichole Land will be born.  Once again I'll be blessed to carry one of my children with paternal pride and introduce her to the world.  Once again I'll get the joy of watching through new eyes of wonder as she discovers things we've long forgotten.  Once again I'll share the blessing of cuddling with my little one.  I long for that day, and fear it as well.

I don't deserve the blessings who call me Dad.  Adam, with his depth and compassion.  Isaac, with his humor and unnerving wisdom.  Tiegen, with his inquisitive mind and thoughtfulness.  And now, Palin, who won't call me anything for a while.  God has truly blessed me, and I am grateful beyond words.

"We Need To Teach Our Daughters..."

We've always heard that we live in a "male-dominated" society.  I suppose if you have an innate victim mentality that was, at one time, true.  Men held the highest paid jobs, and a hugely disparate percentage of the jobs in total.  Men had the purchasing power.  Men filled the governmental positions.

That was back in the early days of this country.  Largely, this started changing with World War I and World War II.  During those years, women were needed to fill the production positions left vacant by men who'd gone off to fight for their country.

Since then, women have slowly and steadily filled more and more positions in the workplace and in government.  In fact, some of the most powerful roles in our government are filled by women.  This is a day in which a woman who wants to achieve great things has all the opportunity she needs to do so.  We have a female Secretary of State, a female Surgeon General, Homeland Security Secretay, ninety Congressional posts, and the numbers are growing all the time.  Disparities in wages are often caused by faulty statistical schemes.  For example:  most surveys that claim a disparity in male/female incomes do not take into consideration maternity leave, the increased number of days off that women take as opposed to men, and so on.  

The fact is, we are all different.  We must be careful when we speak in generalities.  

One thing is obvious to the observant person:  over the past few decades, there has been a concerted effort in the media and in society to undermine masculinity in American society.  In almost every family portrayed in television or movies, the man is portrayed as clueless or tyrannical, or both.  The woman is always portrayed as the one with the common sense and intelligence.  Men are either the comical characters whose oafish blunders make us laugh uproariously at their expense, or as the morally depraved deviants whose inner corruption is rarely far from surfacing and destroying the poor female victim.

Don't take my word for it.  Look at what you watch and read with open eyes.  Pay attention to what you're putting into your mind.

It has seeped into every part of our lives.  Read your Facebook news feed.  Watch how many women post things like "We Need To Teach Our Daughters..." or "A Real Man..."

How often do you read "A Real Woman..." ?  

When I moved to Missouri, the church my mother attended had an adult Sunday School class for people my age.  They were running a series of videos by a famed Christian author whose specialty seems to be in relationship counseling.  Throughout that series, I observed something that had disturbed me for several years prior to that.  Whenever the speaker addressed the men, he instructed them to change their approach to make room for the more emotional way many women interpret the world.  When he addressed the women, he instructed them to "understand that men just don't get it."

We now live in a time in which it's almost considered a bad thing to be masculine.  The church is one of the biggest offenders, too.  The church today is raising a generation of males who don't know what true masculinity is.  We see more and more who are so detached from their own gender that they even physically manifest signs of effeminacy.  It's an interesting and disturbing phenomenon.  They are not self-sufficient, strong, or effective leaders.  They cower to the politically correct rather than standing with a rigid spine in the face of popular opposition.  In my mind, it's vivid evidence of the emasculation of the Christian man.  (Read Wild at Heart, by John Eldredge for a much more skillful exposition on this subject.)

We also live in a time in which it's politically correct, and even applauded, when women make blanket statements about the cluelessness, ineptitude, lack of moral character, and spinelessness of men.  Yet, if a man were to say anything negative about a woman, he is branded a sexist.  The pendulum has swung so far that it's considered socially acceptable to hold up a man to public ridicule based upon his gender.  And it's become a part of the fabric of daily communication, to the point that it's unnoticeable unless one listens with new ears.

I'm writing to try to give you new ears.

Posts like the very popular "We Need To Teach Our Daughters..." make negative assumptions about men in general.  Posts like "A Real Man..." does or doesn't do certain things are a backhanded insult against men in general because they only address half of the equation.  We rarely see posts instructing women to be ladies.  We rarely hear teachers or preachers applauding true femininity instead of feminism.  We regularly hear messages instructing men to adjust to women, but rarely the opposite.  These messages criticize men for their less emotional approach to life, their lack of verbal communication and their tendency to spend too much time and effort on their careers.  We rarely hear sermons on how women can follow a truly scriptural approach to femininity.  We rarely hear a sermon that tells a woman to "suck it up and think logically" or to "stop talking so much."  

One problem is that these flawed sermons are often preached by men.  These men seem so afraid of being labeled as a sexist that they feel the need to apologize for their gender rather than educate women on how to adequately interact with men.  Just a clue, pastors, men are not the only ones who need to adjust their approach to the opposite sex.  

This morning, in the wake of the Aurora, Colorado shooting, I read an article that sparked a thought I wanted to share.  The article spoke of three young men who sacrificed their lives by shielding their girlfriends from the gunfire.  These men selflessly placed themselves between the attacker and their loved-ones.  Each one of them saved a woman.  Each one of them died in the process.  These are heroes.  These are valiant men.  These men deserve to be remembered.  These men demonstrated manhood.

What if we shifted our approach a bit?  What if, instead of focusing on the negatives that some men display, we focused on things like heroism, faithfulness, honor and integrity?  What if, instead of saying we need to teach our daughters to act like spoiled princesses in a world in which men exist only to meet her needs and make her happy, we taught our daughters to prove themselves worthy of a man such as these three men?  What if we teach  men how to be men and women how to be women?  What if we taught men to be gentlemen and women to be ladies?  You know, those archaic terms that have all but lost all meaning?

How about teaching your daughters how to be the best they can be?  Teach them the biblical definition of womanhood.  Teach your sons the biblical description of manhood.  You know, man and woman were created to complement one another, not compete against each other.  We were created as parts of a puzzle that becomes complete when we marry.  Stop teaching your little girl to dress like an eight year old prostitute who is so desperate for male attention that she'll lower herself to appeal to the lowest common denominator. Stop teaching your daughter that she's the most important person on the planet and that she deserves a man who will bow to her and give her everything that she wants.  Teach her that true love is self-sacrificing.

Teach your children, male and female, how to love sacrificially.

Teach your boys how to treat a lady.

Teach your daughter how to be worthy of that treatment.

The Things We Say...

Recently, I became aware of a family who had announced to their friends and family that they were expecting a baby.  Such joyous news!  But then, right after announcing the pregnancy, they suffered a miscarriage.  The wife posted a heartfelt blog entry about it, explaining the situation and her deep sense of loss.

My heart breaks for this family.  I know the pain that comes with loss.

One of the things that fascinate me about social networking is how obvious it becomes that people are oblivious to what they read. People have responded to her blog post in some of the most insensitive ways.  It reminded me of some of the things people said to my family and me after my father was suddenly killed in an accident.

People often don't know what to say when someone has suffered a loss.  It can be awkward and uncomfortable.  Often, people parrot the same cliches they've heard all their lives.  These words are intended as a form of comfort, but usually add to the suffering.

So... as a public service to those who have been fortunate enough to have avoided suffering serious loss in their own lives, I have decided to bring to your attention certain phrases and statements that should be avoided if you find yourself speaking to the victim of such a tragedy.

1. He/She's in a better place.  Please don't say this.  To a person who has just lost a loved one, this phrase adds insult to injury.  The surviving members of the family are wounded, and wounded people are often incapable of thinking in the abstract.  The person to whom you are talking is trying to deal with deep personal pain.  They are trying to comprehend their loss and how in the world they are going to live their lives without their loved-one.  To say the deceased is in a better place comes across as calloused and insensitive.  They want their loved-one with them, and their emotional turmoil often prohibits them from grasping the simplistic truth you're trying to convey.
2. Everything happens for a reason.  Oh boy.  Explain to me how my father flipping over on a tractor and crushing himself to death in front of my mother could possibly be "for a reason."  Actually, don't.  Because if you try to do so while I'm in the midst of my unexpected grief, you'll be driving the dagger deeper into my heart and twisting.  Please don't be like the ignorant and seemingly heartless man who told me that my father had probably been killed so that I would move to Missouri and lead worship in a particular church.  There are no words for this kind of insensitivity.
3. In the case of a miscarriage:  You know, one in four pregnancies end in miscarriage.  That wounded parent doesn't care about statistics!  How about this for a statistic.  Everybody dies. Do you want me to say that to you when you've lost the person who is dearest in your life?  Would that be comforting?  No, that would make me a heartless beast.  Yes, death is common.  However, it is not common to the person suffering the loss.  Think.  Think.  Think.  "Even the fool, when he is silent, people will think he's wise."
4. Also in the case of a miscarriage:  You'll be good parents someday.  Really?  And what is stopping me from being a good parent today?  Oh, the death of my baby?  Yeah, maybe the reason my baby died is because I wouldn't be a good parent right now.  
5. You can try again later.  I don't know about you, but the last thing on my mind when Krystal and I had a miscarriage was, "hey, we can try again."  Seriously, this was not just a simple mishap to us, and it isn't to other parents, either.  This wasn't my favorite team losing the playoffs.  It was a baby dying.  Please recognize the importance of the event in the person's life.

If you notice some sense of hostility in my writing, you're right.  This topic touches a nerve with me.  As you know, I lost my father in a tragic accident.  When I was suffering from that, I realized how hollow and meaningless the things people say can be.  Krystal and I have also suffered the loss of a child through miscarriage.  Those wounds cut deep.  We, fortunately, hadn't announced the pregnancy to anyone--a fact that saved us the heartache of everyone we know trying to comfort us with canned responses.  Those who found out about it did, in fact, use some of the same phrases listed above.

There are those, though, who are exceptionally sensitive to a mourner's plight.  When my dad died, there was a young minister who came to sit with Mom.  He hugged her and sat with her silently.  He simply held her hand and sat silently, letting her know that he was there to support her in her time of loss.  This young man showed more wisdom than the hundreds who thought it necessary to fill the silence with hollow words.

My words may sound harsh.  If so, I apologize.  If they offend you, it's probably because you haven't experienced first hand the loss of a dear one.  Please take my words to heart.  The wisest comforters are those who sit silently, offering their presence as support, and not their words.

Road Trip: Day One... Well, almost...

Jumped out of bed this morning ready to take off for our trip to Reno, Nevada.  The excitement was coursing through our veins as we stacked our bags by the door.  Jumped in the car and headed to the airport to pick up the rental car that we reserved and paid for nearly three weeks ago.

"Oh, sir, since you're paying with a debit card, we have to run a credit check on you."

Wonderful.

"I'm sorry, sir, but your credit check was refused.  You can't rent a car with us."

WHAT??!!

"I paid for this rental nearly three weeks ago.  It's paid for.  I've spoken with customer service to confirm and re-confirm the terms of this trip.  At some point along the line, do you think someone could have informed me that I might be denied based on a credit check?"

"I'm sorry, sir.  That's just the policy."

"So, now that I've planned, budgeted, reserved, paid for, and bypassed all other alternative forms of travel for this trip... Now that I have to be in Reno, 1750 miles away, in two days, you tell me I'm denied.  I know it's not your fault, but don't you think that's a bad business practice?"

So we contacted multiple car rental agencies and found similar issues.  I know, let's take our car to the shop, see if we can fix what needs to be fixed, and take it to Reno.  The brakes are a bit spongy and there's a vacuum leak.  We drove our happy selves over to an auto mechanic's shop where we explained our situation.  They happily wrote our car up and wheeled it into the garage.

A little while later, a charming man came in and said, "Now, you know they can get started looking at it.  But they're gonna stop at noon and take an hour lunch, so you're gonna be stuck sitting here until after one o'clock." 

Wonderful.

So we sat there and watched as a large number of people sat around a table smoking cigarettes and eating, until we finally decided to walk down the street to Purple Burrito for some lunch (Pregnant women know how to tell you when they're hungry.).

When we got back, the gentleman to whom we had spoken gave us an estimate for the repairs.  OUCH!  The car needs a new master cylinder, front disks and pads.  $464.00.  Not an option today.

I called a friend who advised me to go to a mechanic he trusts very highly.  Howard was great.  He was professional, courteous, busy, and eager to help.  He and his technician tackled our car with all the gusto of a two-man pit crew, all the while answering endless phone calls and processing customers in and out.

He was short-handed, and was having to deal with angry customers who couldn't understand how their cars couldn't be finished immediately when they had gone to all the trouble of bringing them in first thing in the morning.  All the while, Howard was trying to explain why he couldn't fix an engine that had a three-inch hole in the side from a thrown rod to a family who spoke only what sounded like Chinese.  The sign language was entertaining, but I was focused on getting on the road.

Ah, Howard.  So observant and thorough.  So thorough, in fact, that he discovered why the first mechanic had quoted me $464.00.  Because he hadn't looked at the rear brakes!

Two blown brake cylinders and pads all around.  A new master cylinder and front discs.  The system needs to be flushed as well, but that's an afterthought.  So Howard, in his thoroughness, quotes me a price of $872.17, but then says he can give me a $50 coupon for the front and rear brakes, making it a hundred dollars less.

I like Howard.  I will go back to Howard.  I would recommend Howard's services.  I simply can't pay Howard today.

So, back to the house to rethink  our options.  I will not miss this graduation.  Last minute flights are astronomical, so that's out.  I'll figure this out.  Tomorrow I'll be blogging from somewhere around Albuquerque!

By the way:  Avis is NOT my friend.

Leavin' On A Jet Plane... Well, actually a rental car...

So, I'm really excited!  I received an invitation to my oldest son's high school graduation in Reno, Nevada!  It's so tough for me to imagine my son being old enough to graduate!  He's already signed up for the Air Force, and will shortly be going into basic training.  I couldn't be more proud of him.

For those who don't know, I was divorced in 2000.  Since then, my regular contact with my sons has been far less than it should have been.  There were several factors in play, and I'm not here to delve into that situation.  It is merely my intent to say that I am actively working to repair the damage that time and distance have caused.  I love my sons, a fact that has never wavered.  I desperately want to be with them.  I am thrilled for the opportunity to be a part of this important day.

I recently made a plea to my online friends for help.  With the ongoing financial recovery from the time my mother had her stroke, and the unexpected expenses that came along with that, Krystal and I have been very tight on cash.  We've been surviving, but with just enough to pay our basic bills.  An unexpected trip across the country seemed beyond our reach.

I received overwhelmingly supportive response from my friends.  Some offered air miles and others offered cash for the trip.  I can't adequately express my gratitude for their generosity.  It was a bit humiliating asking for help, but the warmth with which most of them responded was mind-blowing.  I did have one person I had thought of as a friend accuse me of "begging for airfare" on the internet and use the occasion to question my worth as a man.  It was an interesting interaction that resulted in a parting of ways, but many of my friends were gracious.

I crunched some numbers and discovered that renting a car and driving the 3500 miles round trip will actually cost less than a round-trip ticket between Springfield and Reno.  Not only that, but this way, Krystal can travel with me!

We didn't have much of a honeymoon last August.  We had her son, Tiegen, with us and mainly stayed at home, taking only a couple of days to go camping.  (Sleeping in a very small tent with two adults and a four-year-old in 90-degree weather is anything but romantic!)  So, when I pitched the idea of a road-trip to Nevada, Krystal immediately saw it as an opportunity for some one-on-one time.  She arranged child-care for Tiegen, we arranged for my brother to come and pick up my mother for a couple of weeks, and started making plans.

So, tomorrow morning we head to the Avis counter and pick up our compact car to head west.  I'm excited about the trip and extremely grateful for the help we received in the process.  For those who offered air miles, I thank you.  It was kind and generous of you.  For those who offered money to make our trip more doable, I am very grateful.  Thank you.  Without your help, this wouldn't be possible.  For those who offered words of encouragement, you have warmed my heart.  I appreciate you all.  Please keep us in your prayers as we travel and as we visit with my sons.  My strongest desire is to have a solid relationship with my boys and to be a positive influence on their lives.

I'll be blogging throughout our trip, sharing photos and impressions along the way.  I hope you'll come along with us and comment on the blog entries.  This ought to be fun!

To the one who lambasted me for asking for help:  the next time you need help with anything, call me.  If I can assist you at all, I will.  And, even if I can't, I'll uplift you to the best of my ability.  Because, that is what good people do.

Peanuts on the airplane...

Life is about the destination, not the journey!

I know, that goes against the tide of contemporary teaching.  We are constantly told to stop and smell the roses, enjoy life, focus on today, etc.

All of that advice has some merit.  We should not just numbly stumble through life, oblivious to the blessings that come our way.  We should seek adventure and chances for personal growth.  We should touch as many lives as we can with the love and grace of God.

All of these things are true!

However, as I was driving to work today I heard a brief snippet from a speaker who mentioned that nobody enjoys a trip so much that they choose to stay on the plane rather than go to their destination.  Even when traveling "first class,"  the plane ride is a means of getting us somewhere.

So much of the teaching today has adopted the humanist approach to life.  According to their philosophies, we should not be concerned with our eternal future, but should be focused on the beauties of the day-to-day human experience.  We focus on the blessings that come our way during this life.  We zero in on what we can get out of life--business success, popularity, companionship, financial benefits.  One pastor with whom I associated used boast about "the favor of God."

I am not demeaning the blessings of God. He grants us what we need to have in order to live the lives He's called us to live.  I am grateful for the many blessings He's chosen to give to me.  I have a beautiful family, a comfortable home, a few close friends, a car, a job, etc.  Those things are in my life because of the unmerited favor of God and I am grateful.

But those things are the peanuts on the airplane!  They are given to us to make this journey easier and more comfortable.  They are given to us to help us accomplish the tasks before us.  Those blessings are not to be our goals! 

We often cling to those blessings as though they were the goal.  Like the Children of Israel hoarding the manna that God had provided, we expend so much energy and time seeking our definition of the blessings of God.  And, like the Israelites experienced, those hoarded gifts spoil and decay.  God's love and mercy are new every morning!  He provides us with what we need for life.  He expects us to work hard and trust Him for what we need.  But, much like the mentality of the four-year-old in my living room, we confuse what we want with what we need.  We are so eager to obtain the little pleasures of life that we lose sight of the destination He has set before us.

Our goal is to be with God.  Our goal is to seek Him.  Our goal is to spend eternity in a love relationship with the One who lovingly created us.  We are the Bride of Christ!  We are traveling toward the Marriage Feast!  Why do we get so wrapped up in the peanuts on the plane?

Sarcasm

sarcasm [sahr-kaz-uhm] noun

1.  harsh or bitter derision or irony.

2.  a sharply ironical taunt; sneering or cutting remark: a review full of sarcasms.

Origin: 

1570–80;  < Late Latin sarcasmus  < Greek sarkasmós,  derivative of sarkázein,  to rend (flesh), sneer; see sarco-


Sarcasm.  A cutting remark.  A sneering attitude. 

Comes from a term that meant to rend, or tear apart violently, as with flesh.  Like a wolf tearing the meat out of a carcass.  Sarcasm.  An emotionally violent act.

And yet, we live in an extremely sarcastic society.  Sarcasm is the first tool to which many of us turn when attempting humor, or argument.  Sarcasm is what we use to demonstrate our disdain for an idea or a person.  It is also a demonstration of our sense of self-superiority.  It's a prideful gesture.

Sarcasm is often used in place of a sound argument.  It is typically a sign of weak reasoning, or a lack of solid facts from which to argue.  Sarcasm is the first resort of a weak mind.

Yet, we all use sarcasm.  It makes us feel powerful.  It makes us feel good.  It makes others feel stupid and inferior...unless they are sure of their facts.  Then it makes us look like fools.  Attempting to take cheap shots at the intellect of another when he holds a firm grip on truth and reality, and when his belief in that truth is unwavering, is a fool's errand.  It is the mark of a fool.

We profess love for one another, yet commit verbal violence.  It's a sad contradiction.  If sarcasm is derived from the term to rend as flesh, why do we do that to those we claim to love?  Is it to feel superior to them?  If so, then we do not truly love.  Is it to dominate a disagreement?  Then we do not love.  Our sarcasm renders our claims of love fraudulent.

Can we not speak the truth in love?  Can we not simply state facts?  Can we not show our love for one another even in our disagreements?

Your sarcasm does not cause intelligent men to think you intelligent.  Just the opposite, really.  For your sarcasm is a failure of reasoning.  It is mental weakness on display.

It is not included in Jesus' description of the fruit of the spirit.

Just something God's been working on in my spirit.  Thought I'd share.

Two Roads

I have been asked to minister at a funeral.  The fortunate part of that statement is that the person is still alive.  Being able to consider the sermon one would share at a person's funeral with lots of time to spare is not a luxury often afforded to a minister.  Normally one hears that a person has passed, is contacted by the family, and must prepare quickly for the service.

Having the luxury of time, my prayers and overactive mind have given rise to some thoughts I'd like to share with my readers.

Recently, a talented major celebrity passed away.  As with many celebrities, this one's life was pockmarked with drug abuse, erratic behavior and tumultuous relationships.  The lives of many celebrities vividly demonstrate the old adage that money (or fame) can't buy happiness.

One of the things my father taught me from his many years of experience in ministry, is that people tend to try to focus upon the positives in a person's life, usually to the complete exclusion of the negatives.  He described situations in which he'd preached the funerals of violent gang members who were buried with switch-blade knives and bottles of alcohol, and people spoke of what wonderful, caring individuals they'd been. 

I suppose it's a normal emotional reaction.  We, as loved ones, long to hold onto positive memories to help us with our grief.  Deep is the agony experienced by one who has lost a loved-one whose choices and actions have led them to an eternity of damnation.

The problem is, denial doesn't change facts.

We can attempt to canonize a person, turning that person into a saint in our own minds, when in fact, the person's life has been the complete opposite of an example of dedication to Christ.

Now, before I go any farther, let me acknowledge those of my readers, faithful as they are, whose sole mission in life seems to be attempting to remind me of my unworthiness to judge others.  We will not take this opportunity to resurrect our recent discussion on that topic.  The following statement will suffice:  Throughout scripture we are given the outward signs of a life of dedication to God.  Had God not wanted us to pay attention to those signs, He would not have included them in the Holy Record.  The fact is, some people follow Christ and some do not.  Those who follow Christ live lives that are different in obvious and evidentiary ways.  If your life does not show those outer differences, that's your fault, not those around you with eyes and ears.  Is the life in question accurately described by the biblical explanation of the fruit of the Spirit?  That's what we should all be asking ourselves.

Back to the funeral I've been asked to officiate:  the person's life has not been one of a believer.  It has been one marred with self-destructive decisions, sinful activities, and ultimately, the earthly consequences of those choices and actions.  This makes it tough for a minister.  One must be honest but comforting.  One must tell the truth while still offering hope.  Granted, the person is still alive, and therefore there is a possibility of salvation.  I pray fervently for that to occur.  However, this blog is an intellectual exercise based upon the suppositions outlined above. 

When I was a youth pastor, I ran into an interesting situation.  Another leader whispered in my ear that a friend of one of our young people had just died and the kid in our youth group had asked if he could say a prayer before our group.  Well, of course!  So the boy came up and began praying for the soul of the boy who had just died in a car wreck on his way home from a drug party.

Needless to say, this was a difficult situation.  Obviously this boy's heart was broken at the loss of his friend.  Obviously, he had not been taught what the Bible says about life, choices and judgment.  ...And...this was one of those unrehearsed moments wherein a leader must rely solely upon the prompting of the Holy Spirit and gently correct some misconceptions.

When he was finished with his prayer--imploring God to give his friend one last chance, to somehow offer his dead friend one last little bit of mercy and save his soul--I returned to the front of the room and gently explained that, according to scripture, there comes a time when there are no more chances.  I opened Hebrews 9 and described to them how we all have a date with death, and after that: judgment.  I shared with them how, sadly, many do not make the right choice and go on to an eternity without God.  But by the same token, we who are alive have the opportunity to choose to dedicate our lives to Christ, thereby sealing our destiny to be with Him throughout eternity.

We all have that choice.  Some choose eternal life, some eternal damnation.  This is not a popular subject, but it's a topic of which Jesus spoke.  In Matthew 7, Jesus spoke the following truth:  "Enter the narrow gate, for the gate is wide and the road is spacious which leads to destruction, and many are those who are going in it. How narrow is the gate and strict the way that leads to life, and few are those who find it!"

Sadly, most of the world has chosen the broad path.  This superhighway, unlike the one in the image to the left, is a one-way road.  It's broad and easy to travel.  There is a smooth surface, graceful curves, and luxurious accommodations along the way.  It's the scenic route.  It is surrounded by beautiful enticements that grab the attention of all who travel there, like billboards pointing to the next attraction.  Every kind of human enjoyment can be found on this road.  Companionship, excess, fulfillment, it's all there.  While on this road, your self-image is protected by those who will reinforce it.  Of course, they reinforce it only because they are traveling in exactly the same direction, headed to the same unknown destination.

Many who call themselves Christians are on this same road.  Life seems great!  They have great friends, a promising career, big goals and plans... Life seems to be flowing so smoothly for them.  They go to church and walk away feeling better about themselves than when they went in.  The music they listen to assures them that they are on the right path.  They've discovered that they can still walk alongside their unchurched friends and do so many of the same things they did before they began to call themselves Christians.

There's a reason things are going so well for them.  One rarely finds opposition when one is traveling en masse with multitudes of others.  They are coasting on the same flowing river as their comrades.  They are going the same direction as their worldly friends, their boss, and sadly, many of their church friends.  Their life isn't a threat to the world because they, too, are worldly.  They're traveling the wide road.  It is the path of least resistance.  They don't need to take a stand, because their beliefs are secondary to their desire to succeed in their own eyes and the eyes of their peers.

I believe that many entire churches are traveling together along this road.  They are rejoicing, singing, dancing and partying as they pass the billboards that declare upcoming attractions.  They pat each other on the back, rejoicing in their freedom as they live however they want to live, believing that the blood of Christ gives them that liberty.  They focus on a stress-free Christianity in which standards are all but nonexistent and anyone who stands by the doctrines that have been held for centuries is considered outdated and dogmatic.  They cast aside anyone who doesn't enthusiastically race down this broad avenue of reckless abandon, or who doesn't passionately pursue the enjoyment they claim while waving the banner of their type of Christianity.

This road, though easy, scenic, and apt to gain the affection of those around you, leads to destruction.  It is not a matter of if, but when, Easy Street finds its travelers plunging headlong into the abyss.

You may say I'm judgmental.  That's alright.  I've been accused of that by many on this road of which I speak.  Their accusations of judgmentalism do not dissuade me.  You see, I hold up the light of the Word of God and allow you to gauge your own compliance with it.  For, in that light, we are forced to come face to face with our own frailties.  It is not out of malice that I bring you to this light, but out of love.  For, if I didn't love you, I would let you blindly follow the broad path upon which you now travel.  I would stand idly by and smile at your enjoyment, rejoicing that you had found some temporal peace--even though that so-called peace and enjoyment will one day be your undoing.  I love you enough to warn you.  I love you enough to shout against the roar of the traffic and say stop! You're heading in the wrong direction!  This road will destroy you!

Recently, when I commented that it took more than sprinkling the name of Jesus on a life lived in debauchery, one well-meaning friend exhorted me that if I was going to err, I should always err on the side of grace.  What he seemingly meant was that my stance on that issue was too strong.  We were indirectly discussing the death of a celebrity whose drug habit and hard living had brought her life to an unfortunate end.  My stating that true Christians would be known by their fruits apparently, in this person's eyes, did not demonstrate grace.  This is a common approach to Christianity, although it is a failed one.  It is used often to chastise those who proclaim that there are still standards by which Christians must live.  It has become the churchy version of the philosophy "live and let live."


The problem is, when we follow that philosophy, we fail in the calling Christ has placed upon our lives.  We fail to tell the truth of the Gospel.  We fail to see changed lives because we aren't showing people how to change.

That's why I've chosen to walk the other path.  Its far more treacherous.  It's a difficult hike.  But it leads in the right direction.

How narrow is the gate and strict the way that leads to life, and few are those who find it!

This is often a solitary journey.  People turn away at the thought of such a long and laborious walk.  But it leads to Life!  Though the journey is long, though the gate is narrow, though the cliffs and obstacles seem limitless, Life awaits!  Jesus said, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life!"  When you discover that He is the way, you realize that the journey isn't treacherous at all, for He is the journey!  Then you can stand up for the Truth, for He is the Truth!  And then you'll realize that in Him we live and move and have our very being!  The narrow way leads to Life, for He is the Life!

So it's alright when people reject us as we walk in the opposite direction as they, for they rejected Him as well.  It's alright when they attempt to throw obstacles in our path, for they rose up against Him, too.  It's alright when they call us old fashioned, for He never changes.  His Truth never changes.  His standards never change.

We all have a choice... a choice of two roads.  You can be like water, following the path of least resistance.  The problem with that is, though it's easy, it always leads downhill.  Or you can take the solitary road.  You can walk apart from the group, as you've been called to.

Friends will betray you.  They will try to make you question your stand.  They will--the very ones who have publicly professed their love of you--publicly chastise you and even call into question your Christianity.  It is the only way they can make themselves feel superior, for the life of the unregenerated is all about feeling superior to others.  It started with Lucifer before the dawn of time, and will continue until judgment day.  Don't be dismayed.  Don't give in.  Don't give up.  Follow the Way.  Walk in the Truth.  Jesus came that you might have Life, and that life more abundantly.  Don't lose sleep when they mock you.  Observe the haughtiness in their attacks and the false-humility they put on display.  Observe how their attacks come both publicly and in back-handed ways.  This is the deception in their hearts that is speaking.  Pray for them, weep for them, and keep walking.  When they see their destruction coming, they'll be calling out to you.  Keep your eyes on the Way.  Continue to speak the Truth.  Let them see the Life of Christ in you.

So dust off your hiking shoes.  We've got a hill to climb.  Are you with me?


So, I guess now I know what I'll be preaching at the funeral.