Juneteenth

On June 19, 1865, soldiers arrived in Galveston, Texas with news that the War Between the States had ended and that those enslaved were now free. This news came two and a half years after President Lincoln had signed the Emancipation Proclamation.  June 19 has become a day of celebration of freedom from one of the darkest periods of American history.
Slavery is a terrible mar on the history of this great nation. The dehumanization and degradation of people, based merely upon their ethnic background and skin color is abhorrent and disgusting. It goes against everything we as a nation stand for. The fact that human beings were shackled, forced to live in squalor, treated with complete inhumanity, and often murdered should haunt every American to the point that we vow never to allow such treatment to occur to anyone, for any reason.
So, on June 19, we celebrate the long awaited freedom and the official end of a national travesty. Some four million individuals were officially freed. While it took many decades for the remaining vestiges of the mistreatment to end, and some would argue that it continues still, Juneteenth celebrates the end of the Federally sanctioned dehumanization under which so many had toiled. It was a massive step forward in the ever evolving societal structure of America.
I dream of a day when we will celebrate another kind of Juneteenth. A time when another group of people will be no longer dehumanized and treated as property to be cast aside at the whim of those who hold power over their lives. A time when Americans no longer sanction the wholesale slaughter of over 650,000 preborn children each year. A time when it no longer seems normal that forty to fifty million children around the world annually have their lives stolen from them before they are even born.
We look back with sadness and regret that religious people owned slaves, argued in favor of slavery, abused others, and even fought in defense of the institution of slavery. We look back in shame that people allowed themselves to be deceived into believing there was some sort of biblical justification for their institutionalized racism and ethnocentrism. We should be ashamed of that time in history.
We should also be ashamed that since abortion was declared legal in the United States, roughly 48,000,000 babies have been killed within their mothers' wombs. And, just as the citizens of Germany ignored the trainloads of Jews heading toward the death camps, and the ash and smoke and horrendous smell in the air as they were slaughtered and cremated right down the road from their cities, Americans have turned a blind eye to the largest mass murder in history. In fact, many have applauded it.
May God have mercy on our souls.
May the bloodshed please end soon. And may we someday look back with sober remembrance on the celebration of the end of the war on the unborn.

The Not-So-Golden Child

The idea of parental favoritism is nothing new. We see examples of it in literature throughout the ages. We see examples in scripture. It's a tale as old as time.

I've always found parental favoritism interesting. One or both parents just seem to click with one child, while another child tends to be left to fend for himself. I get it. We all get along with those whose personalities complement our own. We tend to distance ourselves from those whose personalities or character traits clash with ours. It's normal and natural.

Normal and natural among peers. It is not normal or natural in relation to our children.

I don't often open up about my personal wounds. Let me share something with you that I've never openly discussed. I'm risking a lot by bringing this out, because many of those involved in this story could read this post, thereby creating a whirlpool of conflict. However, the facts are the facts, and our reactions to those facts are our choices.

I grew up in Southern California. My dad's family had traveled and sung all over the West Coast for years. They sang in churches each weekend. There was a lot of talent in the group, and they were becoming fairly well-known in the regional southern gospel community. My dad was the second of three sons, all of whom played roles in the family musical group.

My cousins and I appeared, at first, in stair-steps. My brother was the first born, then my cousin a year later, then I came along a year after that. Another cousin was born a few years after I was, then a set of twins. Then my youngest uncle began having daughters. It made for large gatherings and fun times, mostly.

I noticed while growing up, though, that my cousins spent far more time with my grandparents than my brother and I did. It always seemed odd to me that my family lived just twenty minutes away, but saw my grandparents extremely rarely. Each time we did see them, my cousins were there. And...my cousins were always talking about how Grandma and Grandpa had gone with them to some event or how Grandma and Grandpa had bought them some gift or another. Grandma and Grandpa were always having the cousins over to spend the nights or to watch them while their parents went somewhere. My cousins, though, lived twice as far from them as we did.

Over time, I realized two things: First, my parents enjoyed spending time with my brother and me, and didn't take us to our grandparents' place to be babysat. Second, my grandparents never set up get-togethers with us the way they did with my cousins. To be fair, this applied to only one set of cousins, as my dad's youngest brother's daughters were born much later.

My dad was the middle child, the second of three brothers. He had been the lead singer for the family's singing group for a very long time, but had left the group to pursue his calling as a pastor. The fact that the singing group traveled a lot would explain much of the fact that my cousins spent more time with my grandparents. However, what about the many weekdays they spent together and the various social get-togethers my grandparents seemed to be arranging with them all the time?

It may seem petty, but such favoritism among the cousins had a lasting impact on my brother and me. Over time, we hardly knew our grandparents anymore. It stung each time we were at a family get-together and our cousins would show off the items my grandparents had bought for them. It stung each time we'd hear funny stories about things that had been said and done at one of the many events they'd gone to with my cousins.

I was a child. I was their grandchild. They showed no interest in me. That hurt. That left scars.

I didn't realize at the time that this was the pattern they'd followed with my father, either. Being the middle child, my dad was between the first-born son and the much younger "baby" son. The first-born was treated as if he could do no wrong, and the youngest son's every talent, accomplishment, and milestone was lauded and magnified. My dad worked two jobs and pastored a church full time, but went unrecognized.

I have five children. Two are adults and three are at home with me. I cannot fathom the thought process that allows a parent to favor one child over another. Some of my children are more like me than others. Some of them are totally different. Some communicate with me more and some less. Yet, with the birth of each subsequent child, my love for the previous ones did not decrease. My interest in them did not decrease. Just when I thought my family was complete, God added another person to it. However, instead of dividing a finite amount of love by one more person, it seems God added exponentially more love to my heart, and it increased toward all of my kids. That's what parenting should be.

Not so with some parents, though. It seemed, in my dad's case, that his parents' affections migrated toward the two sons (and their families) who had the most in common with them. My oldest uncle and my younger uncle remained in the singing group, cutting several albums with the family, and traveling with them from singing engagement to singing engagement. I guess that was what was important to them, at least more important than seeking out the middle son and his two sons who would have loved to have a relationship with their grandparents as well.

It's sad that people would neglect one of their children's needs for a relationship while boasting on and on about how wonderful their other sons were and how great their kids were. Frankly, I got sick of hearing it. For a long time I resented my cousins for it. I realized that was misplaced resentment, though, and have adjusted my thinking. I now have pretty good relationships with several of my cousins. With the rest of the family, my brother and I are still outsiders. Though we've lived respectable lives, stayed out of trouble, and spent our lives serving God rather than ourselves, we never could break into the favored status required to be an integral part of our family.

It still stings, to an extent. I'm not angry anymore. My grandfather passed on a couple of decades ago, and my grandmother is in her mid-nineties. I hold no ill-will toward her. I simply don't know her. She's a stranger. I know her time on earth is growing short. I expect that when I find she has gone to her reward, I'll pause and consider it just like I would any other acquaintance. However, it won't be as though I've lost someone close to me. That was her choice. Over nearly five decades, I've been nothing more than an afterthought.

This all came to mind recently as I've watched the same thing happen to my children. My wife has two sisters, each with multiple children. My in-laws are following a very similar pattern for different reasons. My wife is the oldest of the three daughters. She is a godly woman, a devoted wife, a fantastic mother. Her sisters' lives have been far less stable. Therefore, the lives of their children have been rather tumultuous.

Much as my grandparents remained attached to the sons with whom they shared the most common interests, my mother-in-law is doing the same. Two of her daughters are following diligently her examples in outlook and actions, choices, and consequences. As a result, she feels very comfortable with them, often justifying their behaviors while at the same time feigning great frustration with them in gestures that would rival the overacting of a stand-in vaudevillian entertainer.

My wife, because of her lifestyle choices, doesn't fit in. She doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, abuses no chemicals, is in a stable marriage. She speaks articulately, strives to better herself, is always learning, and is an integral part of her children's daily activities. She homeschools the children, cooks most things from scratch, has worked hard to support herself, and is respectful. She removes herself from the drama that typically surrounds so many people. Many of these traits make her much different than her siblings.

My mother-in-law, on the other hand, can identify with many of the choices that her second and third daughters. They are very similar in personality and outlook to her. Therefore, mother and daughters tend to band together, often to the exclusion of my wife. Reminiscent of my experiences as a child, my wife lives twenty minutes from her mother but rarely sees her. When my wife reaches out, she is filled in on how busy her mom is with her other two sisters and their children.

My wife recently gently expressed her frustration with the fact that her mom never has time for my wife or our kids. Her mom texted her, saying that they'd set up a time the following week to get together. My wife never heard back. Then, when my wife reached out again, asking about their get-together, her mom said she had to run some errands with one of her other grandchildren. Then, when my wife demonstrated how this fits the pattern, she was told that my in-laws would like to take my wife and children to the zoo to make up for it.

As the day for the zoo trip grew nearer, my wife was told that the other grandchildren would have to be there as well. Then the event never materialized because of separate activities with the other grandkids.

Look, I'm just going to say it like it is. I know this post is turning into a rant. That wasn't my intention. However, on the occasions when my in-laws have time for my kids, the other grandkids are almost always present. We all get to hear of all the special events they share, of the grandparents' days at school, of the babysitting, of the overnighters, of the times Grandma and Grandpa take them to their timeshare property, of the clothes they buy them, of the toys they buy them, etc. My kids sit wide-eyed at the stories of fun and adventure. They never say anything about it. But it marks them. It scars them the same way it scarred me as a child. It wounds my wife.

I'm probably in a unique position. Because of my background, it's a bit easier for me to be aloof and remove myself from circles of people who don't want to have two-way relationships. It's tougher for my wife. My kids, as well.

I'm okay with not being accepted into my in-laws' family. I am saddened for my wife and for our children, however. They deserve better.

My wife is the most loving, compassionate, giving person I've ever known. My children are the best behaved, brightest minded, most thoughtful and polite children you can imagine. If you're related to them and make yourself too busy to spend time with them, I pity you your loss.

My children deserve better.

I will give them better. My job as their father is to protect and provide for them. That is exactly what I will do. I will protect my family from as many of the selfish, careless wounds that come from people who should know better. And I will provide them a loving, fulfilling environment in which they can thrive and grow into healthy, wholesome, loving young adults. It's a shame their grandparents, aunts, and cousins will miss out on knowing them as they grow up.

"You Know What Causes That, Doncha?"

Yes. And we like it.

This was my wife's response to the all-too-common and always discourteous question while we were pregnant with our youngest child.

We have three children at home. When our youngest came along, we were told by various people that it was time to stop. Seriously. They said, "stop."

I have a couple of questions of my own. How about answering the following?

1. What sense of entitlement makes you believe it is justifiable to mockingly question the blessing God has chosen to grant us?
2. What fallacy have you bought into that has convinced you that it is somehow abnormal or unacceptable to have more than one, two, or three children--or however many children God chooses to bestow upon us, for that matter?

When did it become a popular pastime for people to critique the size of another family? We have three children at home. Three! But even if we had thirteen, what would it possibly matter to you? Our kids are well-known to be extremely polite, intelligent, and courteous. They are home-schooled. Therefore, even though we are forced to pay taxes into a failed educational system, we don't partake in it...so we actually contribute more than we use. Our children are on track to graduate with a higher level of education than the average student, thereby having the potential to be a more productive member of society than average. We don't ask anyone to babysit our kids, so they're hardly a burden to anyone. They live in a healthy two-parent home where they enjoy strong, loving relationships with both their Mom and Dad. They are happy, imaginative, healthy, sociable, and well-adjusted. So, why should you do anything but celebrate the fact that God chose to entrust us with a third.

I have friends who have nine children. They are a very happy, healthy, morally grounded family who are a blessing to all who know them. Their children, mostly young adults now, are amazing individuals who work hard, bless others, and will raise children who will follow their wonderful examples. Our society needs more families like this, not fewer.

Do people think they're being funny? Maybe in their own mind. Does it take unusual wit to spout the same question as every other busybody in the world? Or, perhaps the scoffer simply has an unhealthy fascination with a healthy marriage between two people who love one another and enjoy intimate physical time with one another. I guess healthy relationships are somewhat of an oddity in some people's views. 

So, to answer your question: Yes, we know what caused the birth of our child. We know the physiological processes, the relational components, and the part our Creator played in this miracle. And we are grateful for every aspect. 

In any event, you don't raise anyone's opinion of your wit or character by criticizing the blessing God has chosen to pour out on us. You come across as petty, immature, and a little creepy.

Zero Shades of Grey...None Whatsoever

It seems that if I post anything online that calls people to a higher level of accountability for their actions and choices I'm chastised as being too controversial or judgmental, negative or hypocritical. Frankly, those charges are always levied by one of two types of people:

1. The very target audience whose actions and choices are being questioned. These folks usually call themselves out, revealing by their indignation that they have been stung by the shame generated by holding their sins up against the light of the Truth, and
2. Those who are so invested in being liked by everyone that they'll sacrifice the Truth. These folks often say "our job is to love people into the Kingdom rather than speak boldly of unpleasant things like sin and sacrifice." These people are the worst kinds of cowards. They would literally sacrifice the souls of their friends and family members rather than face the inevitable conflict that arises when sin is exposed to Truth. They couch their criticisms in the terminology of "love." However, if someone they "loved" was paddling a canoe toward a 100-foot waterfall, I strongly suspect these cowards would smile and wave and shout "Hey, you really are a strong and powerful paddler" rather than, "Hey! Change direction or you're going to die!"

Truth doesn't take a backseat to love. The Bible says we are to "speak the Truth in Love." Three quick points here: First love surrounds it all. It's all in love. Love is more concerned with the well-being of another than with ourselves. Love sacrifices self for another. Second, Truth must be the message. Truth does not apologize for being true. Truth isn't timid about its truthfulness. Truth simply is. It is neither positive nor negative. It is simply Truth. Finally, because of Love, the Truth must be spoken. Many people mistakenly criticize (sometimes quite hatefully) the efforts of someone who bluntly speaks the Truth by saying "but you're supposed to speak the truth in love." Their version of this command almost always avoids the truth or the speaking. So, to those who would throw this verse in my face as a response to, or avoidance of, the message of this post, I say this: Because of the Love I have for my readers, I am bluntly speaking Truth to them. I will not hide behind the cowardice of comfort and acceptance to shirk the responsibility God has given me to speak the Truth.

Now, on to the subject at hand:

This weekend, a movie called "Fifty Shades Darker" will be playing in theaters. Today I shared a post by Matt Walsh on my Facebook page on this subject. I mentioned that I agree with the post but hesitated to say anything because people call me judgmental or controversial. Upon reflection, I honestly don't care what they say. As long as they get the message, my job is done. The rest is in God's hands.

I have not read the series of books by E.L. James. Nor did I watch the first movie based on the series. The massive uproar over the books and the first movie caused me to pay attention to the reviews of movie and book critics. I've read excerpts, as much as I could stomach, and am roughly aware of the content, lack of writing talent, and overall gist of the books. I have been seeing friends and relatives virtually squeal with glee in their anticipation at the release of the second film, Fifty Shades Darker. This deeply saddens me, as it speaks so loudly about the character and hearts of those who partake.

For ages, women have seemingly held the moral high ground as they excoriated men who attended strip clubs, read magazines for the purpose of seeing nude women, and watched movies created to arouse them sexually. To this day, viewing pornography is considered by many to be a marriage-ending act of adultery. However, many of those selfsame women will now hungrily consume novels about illicit sex, sexual abuse of minors, explicit sexual deviancy, emotional manipulation through power and sex, and rape and call it "literature." These women, in their voyeuristic feeding frenzies will giddily post on social media their intent to see this or that movie, their absolute love (?) for the books, how "hot" they consider an actor, and worse. These women openly talk about how aroused they are by these vulgar books and films.

A few years ago, there was a series of teen vampire books that were made into movies. Middle-aged moms would take their daughters to these films, screaming and fawning while standing in line to enter, talking about how sexy the teenaged actors were. It was a remarkable display of the perversity of the hearts of these women and the double standard employed by them. Had forty-year-old men been gleefully extolling the sexual attractiveness of teenaged girls, these same women would have called them creepy child molesters.

Then came books and movies like Magic Mike, Fifty Shades of Grey and others. These books took the age-old Harlequin romance bodice ripper genre to its perverted extreme. "Christian" women blushed and sweated as they coyly admitted attending the films about male strippers and about the sexual manipulation and exploitation of a minor. 

Let me just say something blunt. If you're still with me, you either agree with me or you're already seething with anger. When Jesus said that "if you look on a woman with lust in your heart, you have already committed adultery with her," He was not only referring to men. He was pointing out a principle on holiness and sin that applies to both genders. Ladies, if you are getting your entertainment reading or watching movies about sex, you are committing adultery. You are in sin. There is no grey area here.

"Oh, it's really a love story." Stop it! Stop trying to justify your sin! Stop trying to see how close to the line you can come without crossing it. Do as Jesus asks us to do: stay as far from the line of sin as you can in order to please God and to remain holy in His eyes! Shun the very appearance of evil! Run from it!

Like moths drawn to a flame, these women hover closer and closer to the destructive substance of these works of "literature." It is a sinful, voyeuristic, fleshly urge they are feeding.

These same women wonder why they find themselves in unfulfilling, unsatisfying relationships, why their marriages are struggling, why there seems to be no mutual respect between them and their husbands. Almost universally, as is the tendency of all human beings, they place the blame on their partners. 

I could go on and on, though I believe I've adequately made my point. However, I'll end with a few quick references:

1. Abstain from all appearance of evil. 1 Thessalonians 5:22
2. I will not set before my eyes anything that is worthless. I hate the work of those who fall away; it shall not cling to me. Psalm 101:3
3. For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world. 1 John 2:16
4. But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death. James 1:14-15
5. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. Romans 12:2

An Open Letter To Women from a Man with Eyes and a Brain

Dear ladies,

I'm on your side. I like you. You're being dumb.

I was home today to witness a bit of daytime television. One program featured a guy who gives medical advice. He focused this particular episode on a couple of cosmetic procedures. He spoke about tanning and about injections women are putting in their faces. The show revived a long-lived frustration within me and generated a bit of a rant I could not contain. Therefore, I have whipped out the keyboard to share with you some critical thinking I think you need to consider.

Tanning is less of an issue than the injections, but I'll quickly address that first. There's this light in the sky that, when one exposes oneself to it, causes a change in the pigment of human skin. This change of pigment is actually a mild form of skin damage. There was a time when people showed signs of this skin damage, it indicated to the casual observer that these individuals were not of the noble class, because they obviously worked outdoors and had regular exposure to the elements. Basically, a person with a tan was looked down upon.

Western society, in all its wisdom, has convinced many of us that a woman actually looks better with a tan. Some, of course, have taken that to the extreme and have suffered the consequences of their obsession with sun worship. We've all seen the leathery middle-aged woman of now ambiguous ethnicity because she has lain out in the sun or under a sunlamp an excessive amount of time. We all also know of people whose skin has betrayed them with malignant results of their sun worship. It can be a deadly thing.

In step the chemists to rescue us! Realizing that ultraviolet light damages skin, they have devised a plethora of formulas to chemically adjust the skin tone of their clientele. From spray tans to lotions, to pills, the options are almost limitless.

The "beauty" obsessed public gobbles up these options because, hey, it's not UV light, right? I mean, I can still darken my skin without causing UV damage? That's stinking awesome, right?!! What they fail to do is research the chemicals they're absorbing into their bodies and the ultimately horrendous results that are possible.

In short, stop it. Be you. That's where your beauty is. You are not more desirable because of a tan. You are more desirable when you are confident in who you are.

The discussion of the artificial sun tans led to a discussion of injections of Botox and other substances as a means of "looking younger."

Now, ladies, I'm going to share some harsh truth with you. This nugget of truth will not come as a surprise, because you already know it. You, in many cases, though, seem to get caught up in the nonsense fed to you by the media and slip into the downhill rush to fit in. Before I do, though, I must say this: in discussing this blog post with my wife prior to writing it, she asked if I was going to address men who did the same things. To that I say this: while some men do participate in these activities, those men are an aberration. They are not the norm. Women, however, often fall prey to these thought processes en masse. They are pressured by Hollywood, sold a bill of goods in magazines, told they're not good enough, thin enough, tall enough, shapely enough, young enough...

Let me say three things to you:

1. You are enough.

2. You are enough.

3. You are enough.

Say those sentences out loud. Say them to yourself every day, every hour if you must. Convince yourself of these things. Your voice speaking these truths must always be louder than the ceaseless noise of a society that profits from your feelings of inadequacy.

Now, let's talk for a moment about these injections everyone's getting in their faces. Remember the day of glamorous Hollywood starlets? Remember the ones who grew older and became icons of grace and style for senior citizens?

Yeah, those days are over. Nowadays, anyone in the entertainment industry begins altering her face and figure at an early age in a futile attempt to look nineteen years old again. These women, who have all the fame and money they could ever enjoy are so desperate to hold onto their youth that they end up looking like a sad caricature of themselves. Some are almost completely unrecognizable. 

And think about this: These women can afford the absolute best cosmetic procedures money can buy. But look how horribly their faces are disfigured! Many of the women who were at one time considered to be some of the most beautiful women in the world appear to be melting wax figures.

It's sad. It's pathetic.

Now, if they can afford the best and they end up looking like some sort of alien creatures trying to pretend to be human, do you honestly believe you can achieve better results on your budget? Think about the logic there.

Please stop taking advice from the media on how the mythical "Ideal Woman" should look. It's bad enough that so many women seem to be enslaved by the fashion industry. Please don't fall prey to this pathetic false image that cannot be attained.

We are supposed to age over time. Take care of yourself. Stay fit. Stay strong. Eat well. Rest well. Stay hydrated. But for the love of all that is good and true, do not inject yourself with "treatments" that promise to make you look younger.

The Mayo Clinic's website describes botulism as:   Botulism is a rare but serious condition caused by toxins from bacteria called Clostridium botulinum.

Three common forms of botulism are:

• Foodborne botulism. The harmful bacteria thrive and produce the toxin in environments with little oxygen, such as in canned food.
• Wound botulism. If these bacteria get into a cut, they can cause a dangerous infection that produces the toxin.
• Infant botulism. This most common form of botulism begins after Clostridium botulinum bacterial spores grow in a baby's intestinal tract. It typically occurs between the ages of 2 months and 8 months.

All types of botulism can be fatal and are considered medical emergencies.

And yet, "patients" pump their faces full of BoTox, which is botulinum toxin.

I simply find it sad that so many women feel the need to alter themselves in such dangerous ways in order to meet some ideal that doesn't even exist. And that ideal? Many women are convinced that this elusive ideal is what men want. But think about it. No man wants a woman whose face is malformed by repeated injections and surgical procedures. 

You really need to consider where the message is coming from. Who is telling women how they must look? Who designs the clothing? Who are the "style critics?" 

• Women, and
• Gay men.

Neither of these two categories can speak for what a man wants in a woman. I'm sure there are some straight men involved in the fashion industry somewhere, but they certainly aren't the ones we see as the public face of the industry. 

Why don't you ask a masculine man what he likes to see in a woman? You might be pleasantly surprised by his answer. If you asked me, I'd probably answer the following way. Here's my short list of things that make a woman attractive:

• A passionate commitment to God,
• Intelligence,
• A strong sense of humor,
• Enough confidence to speak out when she believes it's important,
• Enough humility to not need to be surrounded by drama in order to get attention,
• A strong interest in taking care of herself, her health, and her hygiene,
• An inquisitive mind,
• Inner strength

Paralyzed eyebrows, an unnatural brown tint to the skin, and inside-out lips never made the list.  

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.