Are You A Friend?

Years ago I was on the staff of a church. While I was there, the fine folks there often told me how much they loved me. They spoke so highly of our friendships and made me feel welcome.

It's always nice to hear that people love us. It's always nice to hear positive things. It's always nice to hear the impact we've had on lives. Though it's a violation of the unwritten code of humility in leaders, we actually like to hear those things. We're human.

The funny thing is, there came a time where I unexpectedly left that position of leadership in that church. I offered my resignation on a Friday evening and was conspicuously absent from the services on Sunday. Never went back.

Would you believe that, out of the hundreds of people who had--just days before--vociferously expressed their love for me, I was only contacted by one person wondering why I wasn't there anymore? One man came to visit me, tears in his eyes, asking me what was going on.

One person.

The rest? A few months later, one of them actually used the phrase in regards to me: "out of sight, out of mind."

I was hurt. I was angry. But, sadly, I wasn't surprised. I've been in church leadership for a very long time and I've seen this on multiple occasions. The misuse of the words love and friendship is all too common among the very people who should revere these words the most.

Recently, it's happened again on a smaller scale. It was someone I thought was much closer to me. However, when he stopped seeing me as a resource, just like the church in my past, he walked away.  He stopped reaching out at all. His answers when I'd contact him were abrupt, forced, and awkward. His wife became passive/aggressive and confrontational.

You see, the church loved me as long as I offered them something. So did my friend. In the church's case, when I was no longer there to lead them in worship, no longer a voice that connected with their emotions, they forgot about me, overnight. My friend saw me as a stepping stone to a position of leadership. He wanted me to act on the timeline of his choosing. When I didn't, suddenly his idea of God's will, and friendship, changed.

Again, I'm saddened by this behavior. I'm saddened by the shallowness of people's understanding of love, friendship, and of God's will and faith. However, I'm certainly not surprised by this behavior anymore.

"A friend loves at all times,  and a brother is born for adversity." Proverbs 17:17

Riding the Trough: Life Between the Waves

A couple of days ago I was having a tough day. Nothing tragic had happened, just one of those really low times we all face eventually. I was moping around the house while my kids played outside. My wife was at work, and I guess it just seemed like a good day to sulk. (Don't judge me, you've been there, too.)

One thing about having a three-year-old is that they don't stay in one place long. Playing outside usually entails coming in and out of the front door every three to five minutes. To alleviate some of this annoyance, I'd fashioned a sort of make-shift baby gate to block her outside so as to avoid the constant in and out of little footsteps and voices. The unfortunate consequence of this decision was that, instead of coming in and out she'd simply come to the doorway and shout "Daddy!"

I was trying to wash dishes when she shouted from the doorway for the umpteenth time, "Daddy!" I dried my hands, slapped the towel on the kitchen counter, and stomped impatiently to the doorway to see what my little princess wanted this time. As I approached the doorway, muttering something like "Palin Nichole! For the love of..." I saw an excited little face standing there with both hands clasped behind her back, obviously hiding something.

"What is it, baby?"

"Daddy! Daddy! I found this wock an' it wooks wike a heart an' I wuv you! It's yours, Daddy!"

I like to think of myself as a manly man not given to outward emotional displays. At this point, however, I scooped up my little angel in a tight hug and told her how much I loved her and how happy I am to be her dad.

We can all tell similar stories. We've all had times when the constant weight of the world wears us down. We've all been burdened by the nagging struggles of life that never seem to let up.

I've experienced the highs of life. I've ridden the crest of the wave of public acknowledgment and
admiration. I've stood before crowds and relished their adulation. I've taken for granted my comforts and plenty. However, now is not one of those seasons. Now is a time of struggle and scarcity.

I'm a provider and protector. I'm wired that way. Yet, right now that whole thing isn't working out very well. We're struggling on several fronts, and it's wearing me down. In the process of trying to build a business from the ground up, my wife is working to try and support us. I see need and lack and want, and I take it very personally.

Whatever your story, you've probably experienced similar times. Rather than riding the waves, I call this season riding the trough.

From the crest, one can see great distances. One can dream. One can hope. From the crest, one tends to see the strength of his position. He feels the rapid momentum of forward motion and it is exhilarating.



Life in the trough is a very different experience. The trough is the low point between the waves. It's a dangerous, dark, hidden valley between two towering pillars of strength and momentum. The waves that were once exhilarating are now terrifying. You sail along, trying only to keep from being crushed by the breaking walls of water that threaten to shatter your life. You tend to take a death-grip on the wheel, frantically steering to try to keep from capsizing.

That's my life right now, and believe me, it stinks. It stinks not to be able to see the shoreline. It stinks not to feel like I'm in total control of my direction. It stinks to feel tossed and turned by the currents and pounded by the whitewater.

It's so easy to become discouraged and disheartened. It's so easy to stare at the waves cresting above and fear the crushing defeat when they land on you. What isn't easy is remembering that I'm not alone on this boat. I'm not the ultimate arbiter of what occurs in my life. We tend to forget that when we're riding the crest, and sometimes it takes a good trough experience to force us to remember. Just like the disciples in Mark 4 who feared the storm while Jesus napped in the back of the boat, we get overwhelmed by the circumstances around us. We focus on the waves and the circumstances and the strife, and we take our minds off of their proper focal point.

Riding the trough is sometimes necessary. Not because God is neglecting us, or because He wishes us harm, or because He's punishing us, but because He wants us to learn something. We're sort of in a form of boot camp where we have to learn some self-discipline and control. This is the time where we must learn how to maneuver our ship in the right direction regardless of the swells around us.

Here's where I tell you something you might not want to hear. This is when you have to practice self-control and self-discipline. You have to control the subjects you allow to take up residence in your mind. You must exert control over your thought processes and resist the impulse to just allow your mind to drift. Drifting during a storm can spell defeat. Proactively controlling your direction is vital to your survival. It isn't fun, and it isn't easy, but it's crucial to your success. You have to take every thought captive and force your mind to be obedient to what you know is true, God's word.

God gave us the tools with which we can overcome these trough times. He tells us to focus on truth, nobility, righteousness, purity, loveliness, amirability, excellence and praiseworthiness. This is the recipe for a healthy, healing, recovering trough time. This is the toolkit for successfully training your mind to conquer rather than succumb to your storms. When we focus on these things, we turn our eyes away from the storm and onto God. In fact, every one of these words is a description of an attribute of God's character. So, in Philippians 4:8, we are being instructed to think about God. Funny, that's the same lesson we learn in the story of another storm, when Peter took his eyes off of Christ and began to sink... he forgot the miracle that was keeping him afloat and focused on the wind and the waves. As long as we discipline our minds to stay focused on the things of God, we will overcome.

The Dispensable, Disposable Man... A Disjointed Rant

Nary a day goes by when I don't hear or read of the woes of motherhood, womanhood, or wifehood. No, not by my wife, for she's not a complainer. However, society has become a "safe place" for womanly complaining.

Ah, the stresses of the angelic mothers out there! They cook, they clean, they (gasp) care for their offspring.

Today I was made aware of a Facebook post by a woman who was bemoaning the myriad stresses in her life. She, apparently, has several children. She complained that they were all too young to prepare their own meals, clean up after themselves, or--I guess--contribute anything of value to the family. She listed the multiple responsibilities she had throughout the day, how she didn't have time to pamper herself, how she rarely wore anything but sweats and no makeup, and had to pump milk for her youngest child.

To be fair, she posted this expression of "feel sorry for me" in a moms' group on Facebook, obviously expecting to receive accolades from her semi-anonymous sisters in the struggle. I'm sure she received it, as sympathy for the plight of a sainted mother who draws public attention to herself is the societally correct thing to do.

The women who say and post such self-serving things are rarely wont to recognize the hard work and sacrifices of their partners. No, in fact, they will more often than not complain about them as well. In their self-absorption, they will not see the contribution of the man, and if it is ever brought up they'll simply say, "well, that's just his job."

Let me be clear. Motherhood is hard. I get it. It's not hard to see that motherhood has a lot of challenges. However, complaining about it simply undermines any sympathy or empathy an outsider might be tempted to feel for you. Not only that, but motherhood is not any harder for you than for the billions of other mothers out there. Seriously, what makes you think your situation is so unique?

And I will say this, too. Motherhood is not one iota more difficult, hectic, frustrating, exhausting, or undervalued than fatherhood.

GASP!

Yes, you can complain about your children asking for something the second you sit down in your easy chair. You can complain about your children throwing tantrums and making messes. You can complain that you have to take the time to do a biological function that your body was specifically designed to do. And you'd be right. Those things are all very frustrating.

But while you're in the comfort of your home, watching your television or, more likely, taking the time to complain on Facebook about your woes, your husband has been working in just as high-stress an environment. He may not have even had the opportunity to sit down once throughout his work shift. He may have been dealing with tyrannical customers, an overbearing employer, the fear of failure, obnoxious coworkers or worse. He may have been cursed at, treated with utter distaste, or insulted to his face. He may have spent hours in sales meetings designed to tell him that he's not selling enough while at the same time he faces the frustration that this very meeting is keeping him off the sales floor. But you don't see him stopping to post his woe-is-me moment on Facebook. No, he doesn't have time for that. If he took as much time to complain as you do, chances are he'd be fired.  You see, in many cases, the very fact that you have the time to tap out your frustrations on your computer or phone is a clear indicator that you're not nearly as busy as you think you are. Maybe you don't manage your time very well, or maybe you simply don't try as hard as you want everyone to believe.

And that man who puts up with all that nonsense throughout his day may want only one thing: to walk in and see the smiling faces of his wife and children and know that they're excited to have him home. But he can't have that. He has to stay focused on the job. He can't just give up and let it pile up, because if he does he'll lose the job he only goes to in order to support you. Most people in this country don't go to work because they love it. They go because they have to to make ends meet.

Think about this the next time you have an "I don't care" day and just throw up your hands and quit making an effort: If he let junk pile up on his desk the way you let laundry pile up at the house, if he just sat and played on Pinterest instead of doing what he was being paid to do, if he routinely became so emotionally overwhelmed that he couldn't function at work, he'd probably get fired.

Yet, he hasn't fired you for doing all those things, has he?

So, my not-politically-correct advice to you? Suck it up, Buttercup. You've got life a lot easier than you think you do.

I was recently thinking about a woman whose intention was to sign up for in vitro fertilization and bear a child out of wedlock. She had no man in her life who could or would be a father figure to said child. The woman simply wanted a child, so she planned to bypass familial norms and have one. Because she wanted one.

Because she wanted.

Alright, let me be blunt: there are many single parents out there doing the best job they possibly can. There are many single parents out there who desire the best for their children. There are many single parents out there who have been abandoned by their partners, and through no fault of their own, found themselves in the unenviable position of having to raise a child alone. The sad truth, however, is that the vast majority of single parents played a critical role in their singleness. Most relationships do not end solely due to the actions or decisions of one member of the couple. Most relationships end because both partners put themselves before the one they claim to love. Selfishness is the primary reason for breakups and is usually practiced by both partners prior to a breakup. Lack of forgiveness is a sign of selfishness as well. Sex with someone you're not committed to is an extreme form of selfishness.

All that aside, I'd like to address the concept of intentionally bearing a child you plan to raise on your own. Selfishness is the only reason to plan a scenario like this. A child who does not yet exist has no needs, therefore, the desire to "have one" is selfishness at its core. Studies universally show that children benefit from two-parent families in a healthy home environment. Even these very women who desire to go it alone are emotionally moved when they see a good dad doing what he's supposed to do and bonding with his kids. It's innate knowledge in all of us that a healthy family consists of a father and a mother lovingly raising their children together.

Some fathers, and--admit it or not--some mothers are unfit for parenting. Abuses occur, neglect occurs, selfishness occurs. Families do not always remain intact, and in some cases, the children are safer and healthier when one of the parents is no longer in the picture. However, this is the exception to the rule, not the rule itself.

Often, those who have been the children of such dysfunctional scenarios have a very jaded view of fatherhood. Frankly, in a culture that has gradually devalued fatherhood, the vast majority of children from broken homes live full-time with their mothers. Absentee fathers are often demonized by the mothers as a way of reinforcing their own sense of value. Children pick up on that and are further traumatized by the custodial parent's ongoing derision of the other parent, a parent the child inevitably considers a part of himself (look up Parental Alienation Syndrome for more information).

However, to choose to remain single, for whatever reason, and still decide to bear a fatherless child is the epitome of selfishness. To recognize that children should have a father but to intentionally deprive them of one, simply because you want to possess a child without the effort of a relationship is evil.

Being a good parent requires you to always place the needs of your child before your own. To selfishly choose to bear a child with the full intention of depriving him of both of his parents automatically, and forever, disqualifies you from being called a good parent.

I Really Want To Sing...

Author's Note:  I don't write on this blog as often as I used to. You can find more current entries on my Foundation Christian Ministries blog over at Wordpress. I will use this particular blog as a more personal outlet and the Wordpress site for most of my ministry posts.

I Really Want To Sing...

By the look of the photo composite prior to this sentence, my readers will know the focus of this post.

Sacred music is a huge part of my life. It always has been. My family is a ministry family. I grew up in a household of faith. We traveled all over the West Coast singing and preaching in churches and ministering to all who would listen. My father shepherded various congregations throughout his life, and my mom, brother, and I worked alongside him, filling just about every imaginable role within those churches.

When I got a bit older, I yielded to the call of God on my life and pursued a life of writing, singing, and preaching. It is truly my passion. As an adult, I have functioned as a worship leader, a youth pastor, and an associate pastor. I received my ordination years ago, and was wisely told, "It isn't man who ordains ministers. It is God."

I have taught series and seminars on worship, written countless articles, and studied deeply on the subject. I have a hunger to be a better worshiper. I have a desire to please God by worshiping Him in spirit and in truth, and to teach others what that means.

All that being said, I'm struggling. It's 2016, and I'm struggling with a few worship-related things. Let me explain.

Walk into almost any modern church on a Sunday morning, and you'll see people who resemble those in the above image. They're playing their instruments, singing, and presenting their music to the congregation. The congregation, in turn, usually stands and sings, at least around fifty percent of them. Some raise their hands, some sway back and forth, the more dramatic ones close their eyes and do both.  That's what they've seen modeled for them in youth group, after all.

Anyway, I really want to join them. I want to sing. I want to sing my heart out to the Maker of the Universe. I want to spill myself out and honor the One who created the gift of music. I want to shout my love and adoration to the King who saw fit to descend to earth and clothe Himself in human flesh so that He could face the same struggles I do and show me how to overcome them.

I really want to sing in your church... but you make it impossible.

Everything about your "worship service" makes it impossible for me to concentrate on Christ. Seriously. I'll break down a few reasons:

You've turned off the lights...

I know, it's 2016 and you have a fancy light board in your sound booth. I get it. It looks cool. And your intention may truly be to draw people's attention to the worship leader... to focus the mind... to enhance the mood... to block out the rest of the congregation. I get it. I really do. The problem is, it works.

By turning the lights down, we block out the congregation (sort of). Our eyes are automatically drawn toward the brighter areas in the room... usually the singers and the band. We are led to believe that we should not acknowledge those who stand with us in this congregation. We obediently close our eyes or stare straight ahead at the "worship team" or the giant screen with the lyrics of the songs. 

We try to forget we're in a congregation. We personalize the experience. Therein lies a serious problem. You see, our personal time of worship should, no, must be throughout the rest of our week, and must consist of much more than mere music. True worshipers live a lifestyle of worship on an individual basis. We come together for a time of corporate worship... a time of uniting with those of like faith to corporately lift up the name of the Lord in worship. The purpose of our worship time in a church service is to worship together as one.

There is something very powerful about corporate worship. Unitedly lifting up our voices in honor of our King is exhilarating, liberating, endearing and unifying. It tells the Lord that we as a united body choose to serve Him. When we use the isolation technique of darkening the room to eliminate the "distraction" of those around us, we get into our own heads. We basically spend that time as an individual, worshiping individually, which is what we should be doing all week long. We fail to worship in unity with our fellow believers, because we have made ourselves believe that we shouldn't even acknowledge their presence. In essence, our worship becomes us centered. Egocentric, to use a fancier term.  It's all about us and our experience.

You've turned on the spotlight...

At the same time that you've turned off the lights above the congregation, you've turned a white-hot spotlight on the person/people on the stage. Again, your motives are nice... draw the attention of the congregants away from the sanctuary and onto the platform where they can be guided and led. I get it. 

The problem with this approach is that the leaders and/or the band become the focus. We segregate them from the congregation, elevating them to a position of prominence above their fellow worshipers. We pay a lot of lip-service to the concept that leaders are co-worshipers, not putting on a show, humble, and a part of the congregation, yet we spotlight them like they're the stars of the show. By creating the lighting contrast between the congregation and the leaders, we are inadvertently defeating all of the concepts we work so hard to convince ourselves are real.

And, for the record and from experience, it's really hard for a leader to practice humility when there's a blazing spotlight on him. If it isn't a show, then why are we lighting it like one?

You focus on the "Worship Experience."

Worship Experience. Listen to the way we teach about worship. Read some books that have been written for worship leaders. The worship experience phrase is heavily used in modern congregations. Many churches even talk about the worship experience in their bulletins or websites. The problem here is that you're focusing on the experience...

Whose experience? The experience of the One to Whom the worship is supposed to be directed? The One to Whom the songs are supposed to be sung? The One to Whom our hearts are to be lifted?

Not even close. 

The use of the phrase worship experience is one of the most blatant signs of your misunderstanding of the meaning of, Object of, and purpose of true worship.

We advertise our churches based upon the style of worship experience we offer. If we don't like the worship experience at First Church of the Believer on 5th Street, we leave and go to Church of the Redeemer on Main Street to see if we enjoy that worship experience more.

Our talk of the worship experience proves that we have no concept of real worship... and in focusing on the experience, we've done the unthinkable: We've placed ourselves as the object of our worship. We are, in essence, replacing Christ in favor of ourselves. We worship because we enjoy it, not because He deserves it. We offer up what is, at the very least, a tainted offering of praise and, at worst, pure idolatry.

Our human arrogance is on full display when we relegate the concept of worship to an experience rather than service to our Creator.

Oh yes, our emotions are stirred when we praise the Lord. It's natural. It's the way He designed it. But our emotional response must not be the reason we participate or we are guilty of worshiping our emotions rather than God Who created us.

On a side-note, I was reading a literal translation of the Third Commandment: "Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain." The literal translation was: "You shall not lift up the name of the Lord your God for nothingness." Just a thought.

Your "worship team" acts bored and self-absorbed...

It's a very common thing. The bass player stares blankly at the floor as he plays. The drummer is in his own little world. The acoustic guitar player fiddles with his in-ear monitor and never changes his expression. The electric guitar player frowns and grimaces like the rock stars he's seen on television. The singers either stare with blank expressions at the sheet music on the stand before them or they close their eyes and tune out.

They look bored. They look disinterested. They sometimes even look annoyed.

I know, there's a cultural thing here. What I used to refer to (in my youth pastor days) as the "studied look of disinterest." It's intentional. Even the most animated individuals tend to become mannequins when standing in front of the congregation singing worship tunes.

But, don't you see that as a problem? Seriously! You are trying to lead me in songs where I am acknowledging the majesty and greatness of the Creator of the universe. Your songs are speaking of One who laid down His life, had the flesh ripped from His bones, and bled for me... and you look completely unmoved.

I don't know about you, but God gave me emotions. Those emotions are stirred when I watch my children play, when my daughter sings a nursery rhyme, when I think of my father preaching the gospel. I am moved. Sometimes I weep. Sometimes I smile. Sometimes I laugh. Sometimes I move with excitement. But I am moved.

Does it not give us pause to ponder when those who are charged with leading us in the most intimate worship of our Savior show no outward emotion? Why do they look so bored? Could it be that "worship" has become routine to them? Could it be that they aren't really thinking about Him, but about how they look and sound?

Your "worship team" looks like they just rolled out of bed...

Okay, I know I'm going to alienate a lot of you with this. Just hear me out for a moment. I know styles change, and I'm fine with that. I don't expect everyone to dress like I do. 

However, just like the studied look of disinterest is an intentional demeanor many of us adopt, so is slovenly dress. The overly casual culture of our time is really a sign of lack of respect.

If the Queen of England sent you a telegram, requesting your presence in Buckingham Palace for a face-to-face encounter, or the President of the United States invited you to the Oval Office for a meeting, you would present yourself at your best. Most ladies would frantically search for a new dress to wear and the gentlemen would be completely spit and polished. Why? Because it's a sign of respect to go to the effort it takes to wear your finest garments in those situations.

I know what you're thinking. God accepts me regardless of my clothes, and He doesn't care if I'm wearing jeans, shorts, a dress, or if my hair is messed up. On that, you'd be correct.

But... God does care about your heart and your motives. We tend to put more effort into how we present ourselves when we know we're going to see people who are important to us. To pick up a wrinkled t-shirt off the bedroom floor and throw it on with a pair of cargo shorts doesn't take a lot of effort... Nor does it show much respect.

Just a point for you to ponder. If the God of all creation wants to visit with me, I'm going to present myself in a way that shows complete respect for Him. That means I'm going to give a second, and even third thought to what I wear. Might even put in a little extra effort. Don't you think?

How are you going to try to tell me you're communing with the Most High God, the Holy Father, the King of Kings when you didn't even care to put socks on? Look at it this way: God gave His absolute best when He sent His Son to die for me. The very least I can do is show Him a little respect in how I present myself when I'm leading people into His presence.

I really want to sing with you. I really want to worship. I really want to join together with fellow believers and honor my Lord. But I can't at your church, because I am distracted by all the attempts to modernize and make it "culturally relevant."

Here's the most culturally relevant thing you need to know: I once was lost, but now am found. I was blind, but now I see. Jesus paid it all. All to Him I owe. Sin had left a crimson stain. He washed it white as snow.  I've presented several negatives in this post. Perhaps you're wondering, "If this is what worship is not supposed to be, what should we do?" Easy. Simply focus on Who Christ is, what He's done, and how we can best honor Him. Lead with that passion that comes from the knowledge of Who He is and what He's done. Let that passion radiate out from you for all to see. Join together with others to present our praise in a unified voice.

Honor Him. He deserves it.