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.

Decisions, Decisions...

Every day we see (or are) people who continually struggle with ever-more-intense problems. They (or we) reach out to friends because of the normal human need for moral support. Honestly, they (or...well, you get the point) often simply desire to hear that someone agrees with them.

After years involved in ministry and listening to countless people talk to me about personal struggles, decisions they need to make, or conflicts between themselves and others, I've noticed a few things:

1. Most people already know the right move. They simply either want someone to support them in their decision or they want someone to reinforce their decision to go against what they already know to be right.
2. Most people want a counselor who will tell them things that make them feel good about themselves.  Many folks, if they're honest with themselves, will have to admit that they resent blunt truth, and only want someone who will commiserate with them or tell them how strong and courageous they are.
3. Often, the quickest way to get attacked is to give an honest response to such a person's questions.

From a biblical standpoint, the most loving response a person can offer to someone's confusion or conflict is to point them to scriptural sources. However, we know that scripture doesn't mince words. The Holy Spirit, who divinely inspired the scriptures, seems to dislike beating around the bush. Yet, He is called the Comforter. Go figure! The God of the universe knows that straight Truth will set us free! The Bible says that the Word of God is sharper than any two-edged sword and "penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. [Hebrews 4:12]"

The mental image this description gives is surgical. The blade of the Word of God is sharp like a scalpel and can penetrate into the deepest, most difficult to reach parts of our lives. It performs surgery on our attitudes, outlooks, and motivations.  Surgery is not painless, and rarely makes us immediately feel better about ourselves. It requires change. 

All that being said, there's an abundance of people who will flock to you and tell you what they think will help:

Oh, you're so strong!

Oh, you're courageous!

Oh, God's got a plan for your life, and all you have to do is hold on until He's ready to reveal it!

Oh, you deserve better!

Oh, just do what makes you happy! Your happiness is God's will, after all!

But what they're saying rarely brings you to a place of change. The voices are pleasant but ineffective, since they don't cause us to change direction. Scripture nearly always points to change and growth. Any voice that tells you you're alright and everyone else is all wrong is probably not scriptural, even if it's laced with bits and pieces of scripture.

The point I'm trying to get to, ultimately, is this: (it's going to be pretty blunt, so please stay receptive) Someone once said that the definition of insanity is when you keep doing the same things in the same way and expect different results. I don't know if that's really insanity, but it could certainly cause to you go insane. It's like running into a brick wall. You can keep getting back up, brushing yourself off, and getting on your way again -- but if you don't change direction you will run right back into the same brick wall.

Does your life feel like that right now? Has it felt that way for a long time? Are you exhausted from the effort of repeatedly getting up and brushing yourself off from being knocked down by the same old problems?

Here are some basic truths that will help you filter out the voices of true wisdom from those who, although they mean well, are actually just stroking your ego. God does have a plan for you. However, God's plan requires us to change directions. If someone's advice simply says that you're wonderful and everybody else needs to change, chances are it's not godly advice. And if the person to whom you're listening is embracing philosophies that are contrary to scripture, but still quoting scripture in his advice, you can rest assured his advice is flawed.

We come to our moments in time through a series of choices. We make choices every day that have a lasting impact on our lives. Sometimes we make wise choices. Sometimes foolish ones. But you can trace the series of decisions that brought you to this point in your life if you look objectively at yourself. Your choice of friends, partners, jobs, investments, words, etc. You are in control of your own actions. Therefore, the majority of the responsibility for your current situation rests squarely on the decisions you've made thus far.

With that in mind, what decisions have led you here? To whom have you been listening? If the same situations keep cropping up in your life, what is the common denominator? Who or what do you keep letting influence your life?  You'll never get a different result as long as you keep doing things the same way. So, if you're really as strong and courageous as your adviser has repeatedly told you, you'll make a change. Change direction. Do something different. Look at whatever isn't working in your life, and do away with it! That's strength. That's courage. 

Don't be held captive by a track record of bad decisions. Stop making them. Be the brave, strong, independent person you portray to others. Be it. You can. You must. 

...or you'll keep hitting that wall.

Unpacking While Packing...

My family is moving this week. We're moving back out to Mom and Dad's old farmhouse in Walnut Grove. My mom vacated the premises after her stroke a couple of years ago, and since then the place has fallen into dire disrepair.

We're on a time crunch, as we have agreed to vacate our current house by Sunday. Therefore, all the cleanup of the old farmhouse has to be done each evening after I get off work and we'll move our belongings over there on Saturday and Sunday.

We spent a good portion of yesterday cleaning out the house. Being out in the country, when there was no human movement, the mice took up residence in force. In response to the population boom in rodents, the snakes moved in thinking it was a smörgåsbord of  furry little creatures. So, we're finding empty rodent nests, droppings, and snakeskin all over the house. It's quite an undertaking to clear it all out and make it livable, a task which my wife has shown great fortitude in attacking. I've been under the weather for a couple of days, so yesterday's physical labor was less than stellar on my part.

As I'm going through the items in the house, I'm uncovering a lot of memories of my mom and dad. Faithful readers and friends will know that my dad was killed in a tractor accident on the farm in October of 2005. Though it's been nearly a decade, sometimes the memories of my father are overwhelming, as is the sense of loss. It's not as if I'm walking around in a grief-stricken daze. It's simply that sometimes the emotions wash over me and I miss my dad more than the average day.

Apparently, delving into all the personal effects around the house have triggered these emotions, not just in waves, but in tsunamis. I find myself becoming very sullen and quiet as the liquid grief washes through my soul. Yesterday I came across Dad's wallet. It was a weird sensation opening my dad's billfold and seeing his ordination card and ID in there. It's impossible to describe the feeling as I looked at it.

Rather than being a debilitating factor in my life, though, I've found that thoughts of my father bring me joy. Yes, there's the pain of loss and the loneliness that comes with wishing I could be with him and talk to him about life. However, I think back to the laughter he brought, to the tangible change he wrought in so many lives and I have to smile.

I have such a rich heritage. I had the privilege of watching my mom and dad pour themselves into the lives of countless people over the years. I had the dumbfoundingly awesome experience of seeing, first-hand, what a true heart of ministry and service was. My dad wasn't perfect. He'd be the first to say it. But through trials and tests, his character and commitment to Christ were always evident.

As I look at his belongings, the only physical remnants I have of his existence, I smile with blurry eyes. My dad loved me, and I him. My dad loved God and served Him until his dying day. My dad cherished my mother. He was a hard worker at everything he did. And, even when there was little recognition of his service, he still did it... because it was right.

I miss my dad, but I look forward to embracing him in eternity.

Watching Cars Go By

I haven't blogged in a while. Okay, a long while. Basically, life has been very busy, stressful, eventful, mind-blowingly full, etc. All the superficial excuses that have a hint of truth without letting you all in on too many details.

I just saw a post on Facebook from a friend who just unloaded about the stresses in her life. I can relate to almost everything she said. We all get to a point where the pressures and speed-bumps in life take their toll on our emotional well-being. It's overwhelming sometimes.

That started me thinking. I've always been a people-watcher. I'm the guy driving down the freeway next to you who watches you bee-bopping to your loud radio or arguing with your significant other or straining your back to swing at the kids in the backseat. I'm the guy who counts how many drivers are on the phone or texting during my commute to and from work.  I'm the guy who sits on a park bench, watching people walk by, wondering about their lives, trying to guess what they do for a living, etc.

We each live in our own sort of sphere. It's like our own little world where no one really knows what's happening but us. We control access to our little world. We allow others to see only what we want them to see. Sort of like Facebook. I have a two-year-old daughter. She's the most angelic, beautiful, loving child in the world... er... most of the time. But you will only see the good things about her on Facebook. I choose what to show you, and I know you aren't interested in the periodic tantrums, accidents, discipline, and such. You only want to see the cute stuff. The funny quotes, or the picture of her in her new dress.

We all do that to an extent. We put our best foot forward and show others an idealized version of ourselves. It's good to a point. Everybody doesn't need to know all of our woes and worries. But most of us go overboard in portraying a Norman Rockwell version of our lives, when in reality we might be facing extreme difficulties or anxieties.

It just struck me when I read that Facebook post I mentioned, that every one of us has a story. Every person you see is a complete story.  Think about this for a moment: You are driving to work and you see a perfectly fit young lady jogging down the sidewalk, wearing the latest athletic gear, white iPhone earbuds stuck in her ears, with a perfect stride. Or you see that person in the sixty thousand dollar Mercedes and the perfect hairstyle sitting next to you at a stoplight. You go to lunch at a fast-food restaurant and the frazzled girl behind the counter doesn't do something the way you'd like it done. You go to dinner and the server entertains you and makes your dining experience a very pleasant one. All of those people have their own struggles. Maybe that perfectly fit jogger in the fancy athletic gear just lost a parent to cancer. Maybe she's jogging to clear her mind because she's not sure how to cope with the deep sense of sadness and loss. Or the guy in the Mercedes with the cutting-edge hairstyle has come to a place where his life seems hollow and meaningless. He's realized that he's spent so much time focused on building his business that he's lost touch with anyone who might bring love and fulfillment into his life. Or the girl at the fast-food restaurant whose old beater of a car wouldn't start this morning, and she's not sure how she's going to get home after work because she can't afford to get it fixed. Or the server at the restaurant with the infectious laugh and pleasant demeanor who might have four children, two of whom are sick with a fever, but she can't take time off to be with them because she can't afford to lose any income.

We all get so wrapped up in our own issues and struggles that we cease to be aware that everyone's problems are every bit as real and every bit as important and every bit as all-consuming as ours.

Perhaps if we took a step back and just quietly watched the world around us... just watched the eyes of the people who silently pass through our view... just listened to the deep, almost silent sighs of the people with whom we interact... Maybe, just maybe, we'd be more understanding, forgiving, and gracious.

It's a lofty goal, but it can be done. Take a fresh look in the windows of the cars that pass. Look your server in the eye. Listen to the silence as much as you listen to the words... and be patient with one another. Be kind to one another.

I can't put myself back in the pictures...

Most of you know about my kids, Palin and Tiegen. There are pictures of them plastered all over my Facebook and Instagram accounts. I mention the latest silly joke Tiegen told us or the funny little adventures of our two-year-old daughter.

Some of you, not all, know of my two older sons, Adam and Isaac. Adam, my oldest son is in the US Air Force, serving his country. My second son, Isaac, is becoming an accomplished young drummer as he finishes high school. He's full of energy and promise. Both are really great young men, of whom I am quite proud. I love them with all of my heart.

I don't post about my sons often because we don't talk much. You see, their mom and I divorced a long time ago, and I haven't been much of a part of their lives. I missed the sporting events, the band competitions, the school dramas, and even my oldest son's ASAF Basic Training graduation. I have a couple of pictures from Adam's high school graduation, which I was so excited to attend. I was stunned to find myself reaching up to hug my oldest son, and looking eye to eye with my younger one!

As I was looking at photos today, I noticed that I, as the photographer, am not in very many. I have tons of pictures of my wife and the kids, a few pictures of my Adam and Isaac... but I'm in very few. With Krystal and the little ones, the reason is common. I'm the one behind the camera. Therefore I'm rarely in the frame. With my older sons, I'm not in the picture because... I'm not in the picture.

I failed to be a part of my older sons' lives. I failed to know them the way I should. I failed to meet their friends. I failed to meet their girlfriends. I failed because... I failed.

I post about fatherhood on Facebook. People comment about what a great dad I am, and I feel like a fraud.

After a divorce, it's so easy to blame one's former partner. It's so easy to look outside oneself to try to justify the negative implications of one's actions. But, it's rarely accurate. Sure, a severed relationship always has two sides. Both husband and wife make choices that lead to the ultimate demise of the bond. In the marriage, both my former wife and I had our failures. We've each moved forward and tried to pick up the pieces and make better choices.

However, in the case of my sons, the only failure was mine. I should have never let any obstacle stop me from being in my sons' lives. I should have never lived more than a few minutes away. I should have been there. I should have told them daily how much I love them. I should have been their confidant. I should have... I should have...

But I didn't.

And as I look at the few pictures I have of my boys, without me, I shed bitter tears.

You see, because I failed, my sons grew up and became accustomed to living without me. It wasn't their choice, but it is a cold hard fact. My sons grew up calling another man Dad. He was there. He was in their world while I was hundreds of miles away wondering how they were doing. There was never a day I didn't think of them, but there were far too many days that passed without my reaching out to them.

And I realize that I'll never be in those pictures. The ones of the boys unwrapping Christmas presents in someone else's house. The one of them standing outside someone else's new car. I'll never be in those pictures because I wasn't even there. I wasn't there because of my own foolish choices.

And I also realize that I'll never really be in the picture. When I look at the photographs I see my conspicuous absence. However, the boys don't. You see, the people who were active parts of their lives were all there. Their mom, their step-dad, their maternal grandparents, uncles and aunts, friends... They were all there. I wasn't, because of my foolish choices.

And I live in the thick middle of regret. I live in a prison of my own making.

I'm so happy with my wife, my step-son and my daughter. I love them all so dearly. And yet, there are two gaping holes in my heart. I watch from afar as they enjoy their lives and grow into amazing men. I swell with pride at their talents and achievements, but I realize I played no part in them.

I'll never be in those photographs. Maybe, just maybe, I can be in some of the future ones.

Take a look at your life. Take a look at the people who hold you dear. Make sure you're in the photographs of your kids' lives by being in the picture.

God hates divorce for many reasons. One of the biggest is because of the innocent victims who suffer because of the choices of two people.

My House Shall Be Called... on Superbowl Sunday?

Okay, I know I am the black sheep of the Christian Conservative family. I know that I'm a bit of a wildman and take things to extremes.  If you don't realize it yet, this post will probably put me on lists with the FBI and CIA, as well as ostracizing me from the circle of the Righteous and Popular Christians of America (a group I just made up in my head, but I'm sure they're out there somewhere).

You see, it's un-American to not be a football fan.  I am a member of several of the minority groups it's politically correct to ridicule at will: Caucasian, Male, Christian, Straight, Intellectual, Thin, and... Football-Non-Fans. I hate the sport.  I hate watching it, hearing about it, listening to the sub-linguistic blather that passes for articulate commentary on the subject.  I hate it.

But it's not just the sport. It's the insidious nature of the sport. It's the idolatry that seems to come along with it. It's the stupid arguments that come from the mouths of the cheese-whiz swilling hoards about which team is better, why, and why you're an idiot if you disagree with their opinion.  It's the very fact that the average football apologist can barely articulate a sentence of more than eight syllables while his bean-dip spittle froths at the corners of his mouth as he brands anyone who disagrees with him a moron. And the female fanatics are even worse! I have a theory that the female football nuts are, in large part, simply trying not to be ignored by the men in their lives.

All that divisive hyperbole aside, there is a very real bit of logic I'm going to drop on you. Football has become one of the biggest forms of idolatry in Western Society. I'm not just talking about the hundreds of hours of television and radio time dedicated to it or even the fact that 75.8% of American adults plan on watching the game, 79.8% of those plan on purchasing special food and drinks for the celebration, and nearly 9% of American adults plan on splurging for a new television for the occasion. I'm actually going to boil my evidence down to a single question. If you don't believe football has become a form of idolatry, follow along with the next few lines of this blog entry:

1. In Matthew 21, Jesus said "It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer..."
2. We go to church to pray, study, and worship together...
3. Is your church rearranging its schedule to celebrate the Superbowl?

More evidence of the deterioration of Christianity and the degradation of biblical Christianity in the hearts and minds of those who call themselves Christ-followers.  

I said "one question." I was wrong. Ask yourself how much energy you put into convincing others that your football-related opinions are true versus how much time and energy you spend trying to convince someone to turn to Christ.