theologer

Adoption is Hard Work - Part 4

2013-04-29T12:17:00.001-05:00

I'm actually writing this from the front porch of my guest house room in Ethiopia. The boys are asleep in the room as I sit out and relax at night. Now you'll notice a few things in that sentence. First, yes I have my boys. I've signed the final papers and no one can take them away from me (legally that is). Also, it's "I" not "we" that's here to pick them up. My wife is back home with our daughters for a number of reasons. It's fun to be with them. But hard to be with them alone. I have a visa for them to enter the United States but do not yet have a visa for them to enter the country we live in. So I'm here. Probably for a few more days at least.

First off, it's exhilarating to finally be with my sons. This has been the goal. But as excited as I am, it doesn't feel done yet until they're home with my wife and daughters. There also is the inevitable feeling of shock that comes after you've worked this hard for something. It's been two and a half years. A year and a half since we were first referred our sons. That's a long time to wait. And these boys are a great gift. But it's almost a feeling of let down that they aren't perfect after so long!

Now don't get me wrong. I never expected perfect, but it's hard to long for anything this much without at least a bit of a feeling of "buyers remorse". I don't regret that I spent the money, or took the time, or any of it, but after two and half years of waiting they still poop their pants? This is the $60,000 dollar model right? Cuz that's what I paid for!

Okay that sounds crass. More than I probably mean it to. But I have to say it's strange how all the feelings mix together. I imagine a huge percentage of adopting parents have tons of feelings they're afraid to admit to people. Even their spouses.

Now, I do love the living daylights out of them. And I'm surprised how much I'm attached. But then there is also the feeling of frustration for me,
first and foremost over language. I can neither express frustration or delight. Encouragement or discouragement. Even reason is lost, "Don't touch that light socket or you'll zap yourself," is what I say, but all they hear is daddy saying no.

In December I visited and the younger of the boys screamed bloody murder one nap time, "My daddy left me! My daddy left me!" (Or so my translator said). That made me feel mighty loved until today a friend visited me for about three hours and he screamed the same thing at bed time for an hour (the best I could tell that's what those daddy screams were).

There is so much wrapped up in this. It's making me realize how much I delight in my daughters because they are like me. I enjoy them and their personality for often vain reasons. My sons don't think or act like I do (not yet) except in the ways that boys do just because they're boys. When they do something that's super boy-like, such as play in a puddle for a solid hour, laughing hysterically at how wet they are, I delight in that because I'd be the same way. But when they smile at their own disobedience it makes me crazy. I want them to want to please me like my daughters do. But they don't. I want them to care about my opinion, but they're still figuring out their own.

My boys giggle. And laugh. They're ticklish. And they sing songs and talk to each other (they're 3 and 4 by the way). They take a while to fall asleep but sleep like angels without waking up even briefly all night long. Often 13 hours. They smile and play with each other. They like rain, sunshine, strollers, balls, sticks, drinking water, and eating beans by the pound.

But they don't know Jesus and I can't even tell them about Him. When I pray they don't know what's going on. My daughters are used to it. My sons push my hands off their belly and get confused about whom I'm talking to.

I'm stuck on Ethiopia alone with them for about 5 days longer than I would have liked. Alone time with them is good. And I should rejoice. Unfortunately I'm only here right now because of a bonehead move my agency made on Friday. It took them 30 minutes longer to do something than they anticipated and so a government office they needed was closed. So I waited through the weekend. They got it solved this morning (Monday), but then the embassy I need is closed until Thursday. Knowing my plans were thwarted yet again by incompetence is overwhelmingly frustrating. Had it been anyone else (as opposed to my agency which has made nearly every possible mistake) I think I would have been fine. But the incompetence is stealing my joy. I'm having to work hard in the Word to rejoice over the gift the Lord has given me rather than pray imprecatory Psalms over these people.

I should mention that a few weeks back I found nothing in the word that could keep my attention. It was people's stories I didn't care about in the Old Testament. Or theology I couldn't process in the New. This is why God gave us the Psalms. Man, can I read the Psalms when life is too emotionally roller-coaster-esque for anything else.

I've been such an emotional wreck for six months I've thrown out my back probably 10 times when I normally only throw it out every few years. I'm so stressed my time in the word has suffered and I've slept like poo. In the last few days my back has recovered by leaps and bounds (until today when I got so mad it tightened up again). I've slept so much better in the last three nights it's incredible. I feel rested. Overwhelmed.

But it's still not done. Not till they're home. And then that's just the beginning. Of disobedience. Crying at night. Attachment to us and too much attachment to others. Eating issues. Potty issues. Whew! But I'm so ready for these problems.

Adoption has been incredibly hard and I'm just getting started.

But when I rub these boys heads and see their smiles and the bounce in their walk I get excited. Not because everything is finally peachy keen. But because someday they're really going to know that I'm their daddy. Different than that other guy they met. And they'll understand when I see them do something that delights me and I yell "That's my boy!"

Someday my boys will know they're my boys and they won't remember any different. They'll know their sisters and mom. They'll know the foods we eat and how to wash their hands and where and when to poop. They'll live and experience love. In a way they wouldn't have otherwise. And my family will have the pleasure of being there through everything it takes to get them there. And we'll grow and stretch and fall madly in love with them.

Goodness. This had been hard. But they're mine now. And no one can take them away from me.

Thank you Lord for your faithfulness to me when I was faithless. Thank you for protecting my boys. Show me how to love and protect them. And be with our family. All six of us as we go through the transition of a lifetime.

Adoption is Hard Work - Part 3

2013-04-02T22:34:00.001-05:00

Six months ago I stood in court in Ethiopia and declared before the judge my intention to adoption two boys. Six months ago. That was a year after being paired with them through a referral. One of the most important decisions (probably THE most important) you make in the adoption process is which agency you will choose to go with. Our agency has been fundamentally incompetent for two and half years now.

Two weeks ago our paperwork was submitted to the U.S. Embassy in Ethiopia and I did a dance thinking the agency was finally out of the equation. But I was wrong. Turns out the agency is still responsible for getting a birth mom to appear before the embassy, as well as providing information about our other son who was an abandoment case. And it turns out they can mess up even the final details.

My wife and I have been outrageously patient with our agency for a year and a half since we received and accepted our referrals. But we've switched tactics. It appears somewhere along the way our agency got confused and began to think their incompetence was acceptable. A year ago March I wrote our and asked if it was possible to switch agencies. I wish I had followed through. Though the real reason we didn't switch was we were already attached to the two boys we had been referred. We'd been praying for them. They are my sons. But for a year since then our agency has consistently made excuses and not taken any responsiblity for their lack of competence.

It's exausting. Last week I sat in class with my local language teacher who asked about how things were progressing. I told him the boys were still not home. To this he laughed and said, "I don't think I would have any more patience at this point." He's partially right. The truth is we lost patience a year ago. Then we were mad for about 5 months. Then I lost sleep for another four or five months after that. Now we're pretty much just emotionless, until today I received another email from our agency with more excuses, shifting of blame.

Imagine if this had been the case with our Savior. Imagine if when Jesus saved us he only partially saved us. Or consistently made excuses for our different sins and said, "Well, I'm not really responsible for covering that one with my blood." In some sense the agency is supposed to act as the savior for my boys. It is their responsibility to fulfill the requirements of the law that our boys cannot fulfill on their own. But they're a terrible savior. No agency is perfect, just like no savior besides Christ is perfect. But goodness.

I'm mad. I'm mad at the agency for their shockingly consistent terrible behavior. For their promises that they care about the kids and do this "for the kids," because it seems what they actually do is very little. I'm mad at the Lord for allowing this go on as long as it has. I don't understand why He doesn't intervene and rescue them.

"Surely the arm of the LORD is not too short to save, nor his ear too dull to hear." - Isaiah 59:1 (NIV)

If His arm is not too short to save or His ear too dull to hear, why does He not seem to save? Why does He not seem to hear? This verse in Isaiah goes on to talk about the sins of the people and that being what keeps the Lord from intervening. There is a part of me that wants to examine my own life and see if there is sin that is keeping them at bay. But that betrays my understanding of the gospel. Surely there is sin in my life, surely I don't deserve these sons, but Christ has made me clean before the Lord. So I conclude it is still the sin of man, the sinful nature of this fallen world. The fact that Satan still reigns in some sense over the world.

My prayer is for salvation for my sons. For the Lord to extend His grace to my sons. For His arm to be long enough to save. He will save. But why the hell doesn't he do so faster?

Adoption is hard work, and I don't even have my kids home yet. I haven't begun to see them disobey when they don't understand my English, or even more blatantly when they do. But this has already been hard. By far the hardest thing I have ever done.

I want to scream at my agency. I want to shout from the highest mountain (or the most followed facebook account?) that no one should ever go with this agency. I want no one in the world to experience what we're expreiencing. But I know there are folks out there who have had it even worse than us. And more than anything I just want my sons. Home. In my arms. I want to be able to look them in the eye and tell them their daddy loves them, and fought and fought for them.

And I want to be able to be consumed by something else. I want to recover from this and watch the Lord demonstrate grace in their lives and my own. It's been infurating to see the Lord's hand in every aspect of my life except this. I know He is there. I know He is present. And I know He is hearing and probably even answering my prayers. But goodness Lord, your timing sucks!

Set my sons free. Please God.

And I'm SO sorry to those of you who have had similar or worse experience. I hope at least some will find solace in their bad situation not being as bad as ours. Or those who have it bad would know they're not alone. And whatever the pain is in your life, I hope you remember the love of your Savior has not left you, but living in fallen creation is like the pain of child-birth.

We know better is coming. Lord haste the day.

Bring me my boys!

Preach the gospel to yourself daily, and since it's necessary, use words.

2013-03-26T22:04:00.001-05:00

I've been blogging for a while now. In fact it's been over five years since this blog started. It's been interesting to think about all I've written, some good and some plainly not so. In fact, back when comments where enabled I recall at least one or two times where someone called me out for writing something blatantly void of the gospel.

I'm sittin here now thinking about how easy it still is for works-righteousness to seep in to my bones. The gospel has gotten deeper and deeper in there, yet my own foolishness still comes out. I'm still chewing on how much of a theme this is the Bible. The people know they need a savior. They see the Lord free them from slavery, provide wealth in livestock and gold, part waters, knock down walls, give them land and even wine. They see God win wars, slay giants, and heal diseases. And yet they turn to idols, or they seek life in the letter of the law itself. They forget the God that saved them. I forget the God that saved me. I wonder constantly about whether or not I have cleaned myself before Him instead of rejoicing that He has made me clean.

But I write at least in part to remind myself of my own foolishness and failure to see the Lord at work in my life. I write through scripture, seminary, and adoption (still waiting by the way) so I can look back at the faithfulness of the Lord despite my folly. But praise the Lord He is faithful even when I am faithless, helpless, worthless. This is to say, praise the Lord He is faithful always.

Praise the Lord He loves me. And as my friend reminded yesterday, above all praise the Lord my name is written in the book of life. Someday this will be but a distant memory of imperfection (a nice way of saying filthy sin and brokenness).

But until then, I pray I can keep my head up with my eyes on the prize, running balls-to-the-wall after His will. And I hope I have lots of opportunity to look back at when my eyes were distinctly elsewhere but the Savior of all creation still called me His own.

On Pipe Smoking: or Extreme sports for rocking chair athletes.

2013-03-10T05:51:00.001-05:00

When I was ten years old my brother and I sat around the kitchen table with my parents and explained, like everyday, what we had learned in school. It was a Tuesday which means a police officer representing DARE (Drug Abuse Resistance Education) had come to our school to speak about the horrors of drugs (mostly tobacco) and alcohol. My brother and I shared that we now better understood that if we smoked a cigarette we would become addicted to smoking and probably die within a few months of emphysema. Additionally if we so dared (ahem) to take a drink of alcohol we would quickly spiral in to alcoholism and die within a few weeks.

Public education fared us relatively well, all things considered, but this was the first time I remember my father literally being at a loss for words. He simply stood up from the dinner table and left. My mother, brother, and I cleaned the table up after our dinner and about a half an hour later my father returned with a plastic bag in his hand and told us to head in to the garage. There he placed a cigar in my mouth and a beer in my hand. He told me to smoke and drink, pointed a finger at my face, looked me in the eye, and said, "You're not gonna die." [1]

After that the luster wore off of smoking and drinking and it was simply something we did every family reunion or big holiday. It didn't matter if you were 8 or 78, you smoked a cigar, drank a beer, and enjoyed the presence of your family.

Later, in sixth grade our school asked each student to sign a pledge that we would never drink alcohol or smoke any tobacco products. A paper I refused to sign, but I was the only one. I knew a few would probably actually keep their pledge, but not because of what they signed. There was a lot of pressure, but I remember the look of respect on my teacher's face when I angrily declared it foolishness for a sixth grade kid to say he would never do something I for one was so certain I would do.

"You're not gonna die."

—

Yes, smoking can kill you. In fact cigarette smoking is responsible for significantly increasing your chance of getting a relatively rare disease (lung cancer), although some even deny that [2]. But it's really just a minor risk for a great pleasure. Eating too many Skittles will likely rot your teeth out and kill you too, but there isn't the same stigma associated with skittles as there is with smoke (at least not yet). People will complain about Johnny, "He's a smoker," they'll whisper behind his back. But few people will complain about Betsy, "She's a Skittle-r."[3]

Whatever the case I like to think of pipe smoking as an extreme sport for rocking chair athletes. Wikipedia defines extreme sports as "certain activities perceived as having a high level of inherent danger. These activities often involve speed, height, a high level of physical exertion, and highly specialized gear." While smoking does not need to involve speed or height, a rocking chair can easily cause me to gear up to my limits of physical exertion in a hurry, and smoking definitely requires specialized gear—especially for the pipe smoker.

But really it's just that in the same way a skateboarder knows that flying 10 feet above a half-pipe to do a trick isn't exactly the best way to ensure long life past 70, a pipe smoker watches him from the audience enjoying the view and the smoke obscuring it. In the same way a paraglider wouldn't give up his pastime for three mothers-in-law telling him it'll kill him someday, a smoker brings his pipes to his in-laws on Christmas to enjoy a smoke in the backyard.

If you ask the skateboarder, paraglider, or pipe smoker why he does it he simply responds, "Because I love it!"

—

Smoking later gained some traction for me when my dad got a new job and we moved to the Middle East where a hookah is just a part of life. In 10th grade I smoked my weight in hookah tobacco every month, and it was glorious. Then in return to America I simply quit. Didn't really even miss it. Apparently I lack much for an addictive personality.

Then at 18, in a park sitting on top of a picnic table my youth pastor introduced me to a corn cob pipe asking, "You sure your dad is going to be okay with this?" Yes. I was fairly certain he would be. And this carried me through college with more than a few evenings spent enjoying something purchased from the local smoke shop. Usually some vanilla or black cavendish, but trying just about everything. I purchased a few pipes over time and cracked one or two of the bowls smoking them too quickly and without enough of a rest between smokes.

—

There are many versions of a saying which says something to the effect of: a cigarette is like girl friend you just use and throw away; a cigar is more like a passionate lover you cherish slowly and take to a nice meal; but a pipe is like a wife, you cherish it, and treat it with respect and care, but it'll burn quickly through your money.

When you buy your first pipe it's easy to become overwhelmed by the many choices in shapes and materials. Thankfully, however, there exists a company called Missouri Meerschaum which produces corn cob pipes at extremely cheap prices (about $5), and they're some of the best pipes money can buy. Yes a $1,000 pipe should probably smoke better, but it's amazing just how well Missouri Meerschaum's are made.

Then you have to realize you've bought in to an art, and learning what kinds of tobacco you like and how you like to smoke them can take a lot of time. There are even immense arguments amongst pipe smokers about the best way to pack a pipe. Traditionally people say simply to fill the bowl full to the rim, press it down to half full, then fill it to the rim again and press down to two thirds full, and then fill it once more and you're ready. But some people like to take a big wad and twist it in to the top of the pipe so all the tobacco is concentrated at the top and there is an air pocket at the bottom. Not to mention the incredibly popular "Frank Method"[4], and this is just the beginning of the pile.

As long as it can take to learn to pack your pipe perfectly, I have always found most people at least basically get the hang of it after three or four smokes. But this is why you need your rocking chair, so that when you figure out what you like and you become overly opinionated, at least you can look the part.

—

One particular evening my sophomore year at the University of Colorado so much snow had fallen in the night some bushes, usually standing close to six feet tall, had their branches weighed down over an equally tall ledge below and beside them. Seven of my friends and I climbed in to the cave it had created, with snow covered branches down to our ankles but enough head space to sit on the bench bolted to the ledge wall.

That night did something in my soul that was new to me as the embers and ashes in my pipe burned slowly for hours in the presence of my friends. We talked of deeper things than we had ever discussed as the smoke grew thicker in our bush-igloo and the snow gathered higher around our ankles.

"You're not going to die."

In fact there was something uniquely life-giving that night, and smoke definitely played a role in it.

Such experiences took hold and in lieu of paying $60 to rent a cap and gown for a ceremony I cared nothing for, I spent $60 on a Davidoff cigar I had coveted for years. I built a small cardboard carrier box and kept the thing on me during my last final exam. Walking out of the building I laid in the grass on campus and smoked until the blue sky above me turned dark and my friends got bored and went home.

Fast forward to a few months after graduation where I dumped my then 9 pipes on a friend and moved overseas to a place without tobacco. I've been here 8 years now and about a year ago I found bagged and tinned pipe tobacco at a local market. Overpriced, but it was something.

It had been years since I last smoked, and I had never before purchased any over the counter brands, so I had no idea what I was doing when I selected Borkum Riff Whiskey. But I knew something was wrong when the experience seemed familiar but my tongue tried to fight back.

Eventually I found some delicious blends, MacBaren's Mixture Flake being the thing that brought hope back to something I feared I just remembered wrong. I wrote my friend in America and had my old pipes shipped over.

—

And now I sit, in a rocking chair to get my heart pumping (a man's gotta exercise), writing this with a delicious light Virginia tobacco in my old Irish Seconds pipe—a gift from my parents when I was in college. I regularly enjoy the company of a few other American's who have jumped in to the gloriousness with me. I'm pleased that with the advent of the internet, and even international shipping, most tobaccos are within an affordable price range. I'm pleased I've taught friends to have strong opinions about their tobaccos. I'm pleased they like to pack their bowls differently, smoke slower, and rock at a different pace from my norm. And I'm thankful of one thing most.

I'm (probably) not going to die.

[1]For the record, later research showed the DARE program was ineffective at keeping kids off drugs, and the program was largely shut down.
[2]See Lauren A. Colby's "In Defense of Smokers" http://www.lcolby.com
[3]Or, "She's tasted the rainbow 30 times today!"
[4]http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_method"

Denominations and Division

2013-03-08T02:03:00.001-06:00

"What I mean is that each one of you says, "I follow Paul," or "I follow Apollos," or "I follow Cephas," or "I follow Christ. Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul?" - 1 Corinthians 1:12-13

Last week I was with some friends of mine and a good buddy who is a Lutheran minister (only mildly relevent), pressed me to tell him with whom would most identify if I HAD to be put in to one camp—or denomination if you will—as it pertains to my theology. Typically I will not respond to this kind of questioning. But this time I regret that I answered.

But the truth is, the question is loaded for a number of reasons. If you identify yourself as a Pentecostal you're most likely emphasizing you have one specific view about the supernatural gifts. If you identify yourself as a Lutheran you're probably talking about your views on baptism and the Lord's supper. If you identify as a Calvinist you're probably most expressing your views on predestination. But what you identify as is often just as much related to who you don't want to be identified with.

This is to say, when we align ourselves with one group we begin to see certain theological issues as the driving issues. Dispensationalists spend more time talking about biblical interpretation philosophy than, say, baptism. Calvinists tend to spend more time worrying about predestination or sovereignty and taking issue with Arminian views on the two issues than they do worrying about biblical interpretation philosophy. This isn't to say the dispensationalists don't care about baptism, or predestination, just that the emphasis is put in certain places because of their identification.

This is over-simplified, and may even miss the mark with some folks. But my point is, when someone identifies as Calvinist, or even Lutheran, how is this possibly different from what Paul is talking about in the above verse? Is Christ divided?

My very first class in seminary, and I'll never forget this, included a lecture where the professor encouraged us to find a denomination we can adhere to and then lean on them to keep us accountable. But the issue I took with this then, and still do today, is that then we're essentially asking for accountability to secondary issues. They are important issues, don't get me wrong. But if your view about baptism changes from infant to believer's baptism, are you therefore a heretic? No. Some may even think your view is wrong, but that doesn't mean they should kick out of fellowship or start to think you're failing in character.

Now this is different from asking about specific issues. "What do you think about predestination?" You can say you like Calvin's view on that, but you weren't baptised in to Calvin. You can disagree with pentacostal theology and still identify as a believer, but you don't need to identify as a "non-pentacostal."

This is one of the things that I've grown to appreciate most about working for an inter-denominational organization. We've got baptists, calvinists, wesleyans, and lutherans (intentionally lower-cased in this instance), and we all agree to disagree on things if they aren't essential to the gospel or the advancement of it. Because we believe we are in some sense still the Church, still the body of Christ. We are united in Christ, not divided because of theology. Yes, we may disagree with each other on certain things, but my organization keeps me accountable to the non-negotiable truths of the gospel. Not to one specific theological perspective. I love having people I've aligned myself to for the sake of accountability, but I also love that what I'm being held accountable to is the gospel. Within reason I can fluxuate in other areas without anyone losing their cool.

On my own team (the 7 people I work closest with) there are charismatics, and former-charismatics. There are reformed folks and some who definitely have a problem with reformed theology. It makes for an interesting dynamic. One which I believe better proves Christ and His love for us (and our differing theological views).

One example is worth mentioning from a night training about 10 church pastors from one of the more well known charismatic churches in town. The truth is, they're barely charismatic, but they define themselves as such because they don't want to be associated with the "reformed churches" in the city. They don't hardly know anything about reformed theology, but they know they don't like it. Anyhow, that evening we were teaching from a passage of scripture which has been used to be rather divisive. They asked my teammate what he thought of the verse. He responded by asking what they thought. They pressed harder wanting the "teacher" to tell them what the "right" answer was. I was sitting next to my teammate at the time, and he pointed at me and said this was a verse the two of us disagreed on vehemently. This shocked the whole group of pastors. "How you can disagree on this and still teach together?"

"Well, we both love the Lord, and we love you. So we can disagree on this and still sit here and do our best to use this scripture to build you up."

Yes, my friend handled that rather well. Probably better than I could have. But the sheer shock shows just how much we've been willing to be divided. And my friend's words I think well demonstrated the love Christ to them.

I don't know that I think you need to leave your denomination. But next time someone asks you what you believe, ask them what specifically they're asking about. It's easier to have useful discussion about one specific topic than it is to draw your lines in the sand and say, "Well, I guess then we'll never get along." It can be more loving for those around you for you to have a specific view on predestination, even one that aligns with Calvin's, than it is for you to just be a calvinist. You weren't baptized into Calvin!

I've written this before, but I'll do it again:

"What I mean is that each one of you says, "I follow Wesley," or "I follow Calvin," or "I follow Scoffield," or "I follow Christ. Is Christ divided? Was Wesley crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Wesley?" - New Roger Mugs Version.

Why do we read this verse and the condemnation Paul issues therein, and think it doesn't apply to us today?

Alcohol, Idolatry, and Sleepless Nights

2013-02-13T20:56:00.001-06:00

I mentioned in passing recently that in my adoption process I had become so stressed for a while that I couldn't sleep without a shot of alcohol to knock me out many nights. Well, now I'd like to share about how said alcohol became an idol.

First of all, my father has German and Swiss roots and alcohol is just simply a normal part of his life, and therefore it has been for me as well since I was relatively young. Not abuse of alochol by any means. My father seldom had more than one beer per day, and now drinks mostly whiskey, but even that without any kind of regularity and seldom more than one. In the last year or so I began drinking more regularly than I used to. Having on average a beer or two per night.

Yes there was the occassional three, in fact for years I have limited myself to just drinking beer on the weekends, because it's so easy for daily beer to become two beers and two to become three. But I was stressed, and that was the excuse I used for drinking more than usual.

Now for the record, I do not (personally) see one to three drinks a night as abuse (maybe it is for you, please don't allow me to justify a sin for you). A recent New York Times article suggests that if a man is to obtain the full benefit of alcohol he should drink four drinks per day. Four seems a bit much to me.

Anyhow, about six months ago I started to feel like the Lord was encouraging me to drink less. But I would push back and argue, "This isn't too much, why are you suggesting less?" Or think, "This must not be God, why would He tell me to stop drinking reasonable amounts of alcohol."

Well, first of all, arguing with the Lord rather than just listening isn't ever the best idea. That was my first mistake. But finally around December, in discussion with a friend about it, I tuned in to the fact that alchol had become what I was turning for comfort. I couldn't sleep. So I'd take a quick drink of alcohol to knock me out at night. It worked. But I wasn't getting any better. I was stressed as stressed could be. More than I had ever been in my life. Stressed and arguing and wrestling with the Lord in prayer over my boys. Why won't He just open up the heavens I know He is powerful enough to open and make them come home?

Well, with the revelation that this had turned in to idolatry, I immediately stopped drinking during the week. This also helps control how much I'm drinking. But the more interesting thing is how quickly I began to find peace. Comfort. God is the Great Comforter afterall. Alcohol is something the Lord created, and it makes for a good drink (in moderation) and a crappy God.

I was at the same time convicted that I should confess this to my team. I did. I think confession is something we miss much too much in our Christian circles these days. As a necessary hallmark for revival I wish we would confess our sins and pray together more often than we do. But we as Christians think we save ourselves through our own righteousness, and like it or not, this our reason not to confess—because we miss/forget/misplace/misuse/abuse/deny the gospel. Thinking lack of confession proves we've got our act together, and our sinlessness is our ticket to heaven. But the wonderful gospel that says we NEED a savior.

Confession and my desire to see more of it is a large part of why I want to share this here too. Especially because I do talk about beer here. I like beer, I don't think everyone should drink, but I definitely believe the freedom to partake is a gift and freedom from the Lord. That said, it's also been interesting for me to see how the Lord taught me that abuse of something is not necessary for it to become idolatry. All that's needed is a sinner's heart.

It's been about two months now, and I'm sleeping better than I have in a while. My heart is torn over my boys. I still wrestle in prayer with God over my sons. When will they come home? I still don't know. But my heart is at peace. I'm with the Great Comforter and it's much better than being an moron pursuing comfort elsewhere.

I'm also writing this for my own benefit. Me of the future: if you find you're not at peace, who/what are you seeking for peace? And if it's not the Lord, you idiot, of course you're not finding it.

Thank you Lord for your comfort. Thank you for your peace. Thank you for your grace and the graciousness of my teammates when I told them I've been a fool. And thank you for delicious beer. Help me to say thanks to you when I partake rather than thanks to it.

Man-Pleasing God Service. What?

2013-01-28T00:56:00.001-06:00

I want to belong to Christ. But only just enough so I impress others. And that's a terribly sad and humbling thing to realize in the midst of prayer. Are there people who struggle with pride less than me? I wonder just how ingrained in me it is and from whence it comes.

Seriously. I want to be fully Christ's. But only until other people say "wow" and then I want all the glory. What the stink is wrong with me? Sin. Goodness I need a savior! Oh thank God for a savior.

Adoption is Hard Work - Part 2

2013-01-24T21:59:00.001-06:00

This is about a month old but I hadn't the heart to get around to posting it until now.

As I write this I'm on an airplane back from Ethiopia. Away from my boys. One of whom cried and screamed horribly as I walked out yesterday because he has attached so much to me in the last ten days.

This is so hard on my heart it's crazy. Today I was trying to make sense of why this is happening and I'm not sure it's the kind of thing you get an answer for this side of heaven. Once the boys are home the healing process can and will begin and someday this will be a distant painful memory. But right now it's a very present painful reality.

Our process is now probably months from being complete rather than weeks. And yet I still feel like the Lord is saying, "I've got this, don't worry." It occurred to me that there are times where I believe that and I have some peace. But there are also a lot of times where I'm feeling peace and then I picture my kids faces, my father instinct kicks in and my worry over them overtakes any peace I may have had.

It seems every verse I read in the Bible is about waiting. It seems everywhere I look people are enjoying their children. Last night I flew out of Ethiopia and on the way I saw four couples with adopted kids they had just picked up.

Whatever the Lord is accomplishing through this in me, it ain't fun. I imagine it seldom is. Few weapons are fashioned and sharpened without fire. Especially those unnaturally dull to begin with.

Don't Throw it All Away

2013-01-24T21:53:00.001-06:00

A huge percentage of the Bible (most of the prophets) were written during the split kingdom. Telling people to repent. Basically what God had promised had come about. The promised land was reached, and now they were about to throw it all away. A huge part of the Bible is God saying, "Don't throw away the blessings I've promised you."

Adoption is Hard Work

2012-12-23T10:03:00.001-06:00

About two years ago we began the process of adopting two boys from Ethiopia. My wife has since read many an adoption blog, but they seem to all be from a woman's perspective. We're near the end of ours (unless getting them home is really the beginning) so mine won't be much in depth except on the tail end here. But I think it interesting to write down even if only for my own sake.

You first need to know that basically there are the following steps in adoption from Ethiopia:
1) apply to an adoption agency
2) pay exorbanent fees for a home study
3) turn in all kinds of crazy documents which are all difficult to obtain
4) recieve and accept a referral (pairing children with you)
5) fly to Ethiopia and attend a court date
6) fly back and pick up your kids

We were stalled between 4 and 5 for almost exactly one year. And it stank to high heaven because you start praying for your children the moment you begin the process, but once you've accepted a referral you know your kids are out there in an orphanage just waiting for you to go pick them up. And you want to. Quickly.

Some people wait a long time for a referral and then get their kids quickly thereafter. We did not have to wait long for a referral but our process since then has been long. And now we're stalled out between steps 5 and 6. We attended court two months ago and there has been no progress on our case. Basically we're waiting for one government office to issue approval and then we'll be weeks away from getting our kids home.

But this same approval is a large part of why we waited a year for our court date. It's surprisingly hard to obtain this approval.

So two weeks ago, sick of waiting with continued promises that it would be sorted out by "next week", I bought a one way ticket to Ethiopia and I got here on Wednesday last week. I should also mention a big part of my motivation to come is that all of our paperwork with the U.S. side of things will expire at the end of the month. Those documents can be renewed but its a long and expensive process.

So when I arrived on Wednesday the first thing I did (after swinging by to say hi to my boys of course) was head down to said government office and hang out for a while. I sat around, showed some pictures of my boys and my biological girls, and was able to convince them to move my file out of the archives and start working on it.

I know what you're thinking, why was it in the archives? I have no clue. Nor was I happy. But what can you do?

Well then they began work and then Thursday they requested a document that I obtained a year and a half ago but no one ever asked for. I had it faxed in and then it took two days to get it translated. But it turns out to get it authenticated I'll need to go get a new document and then have it processed through four different places all in different cities on two different continents.

Anyhow, if this really is needed then all our documents will expire and I'm out of here to head back home and get working on my documents. If for some reason they show mercy I may have my boys home in a few weeks.

So that's my situation. Let me tell you about my heart.

This process sucks. Royally sucks. I hate that I'm away from my wife and daughters for an ambiguous amount of time and that I can go see my boys, I can look at pictures and tickle them. But I can't Rambo them out of here. Not legally.

I've been praying the Lord would be at work in their hearts and minds and it seems He has been. I've been praying that the Lord would save them, because ultimately I'm not their savior. And I've been begging God to bring them home. And he hasn't yet. And I hate it. And I don't get it.

I feel like I've known a lot of people in places of waiting who say they feel like God is absent. But it's never felt that way to me. I feel like He is answering my other prayers. I feel like He's close and hearing me. I even feel like He's saying He has this situation under control. But it sure as stink doesn't feel like it to me. And I don't know what to make of it.

I heard a sermon that said "read God's promises back to Him", so I've been reading John 14:18, "I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you." And I've been trying to remember Phillipians 4:4-7, "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

And occasionally I get peace from God. And then other times I'm flipping out so bad I need a shot of alcohol just to fall asleep at night.

Tomorrow morning I'll be pleading. And pleading. And I have so little hope. I have faith that God CAN do something. I just am so unconvinced that he WILL. Because His timing in this has never lined up with mine.

But He did get my file out of the archives. He did get me here to be with and play with my boys. He did give me the two most awesome boys ever. And He has been working in their hearts and minds. I also believe that He will release them eventually, but I really really want it to be now. I want to stay a few more weeks with them and take them home. I don't want to leave them here.

This morning I read a bit in Deuteronomy 7,
"If you say in your heart, 'These nations are greater than I. How can I dispossess them?' you shall not be afraid of them but you shall remember what the LORD your God did to Pharaoh and to all Egypt, the great trials that your eyes saw, the signs, the wonders, the mighty hand, and the outstretched arm, by which the LORD your God brought you out. So will the LORD your God do to all the peoples of whom you are afraid. Moreover, the LORD your God will send hornets among them, until those who are left and hide themselves from you are destroyed. You shall not be in dread of them, for the LORD your God is in your midst, a great and awesome God. The LORD your God will clear away these nations before you little by little. You may not make an end of them at once, lest the wild beasts grow too numerous for you. But the LORD your God will give them over to you and throw them into great confusion, until they are destroyed. And he will give their kings into your hand, and you shall make their name perish from under heaven. No one shall be able to stand against you until you have destroyed them."

I'm supposed to trust the Lord and watch Him provide. I'm supposed to remember all He has done before because He is awesome. And I'm supposed to recall how He holds the whole world in His hand. But too often I forget. And right now remembering doesn't set my heart at ease. It makes me believe absolutely that He has the power to do this. But I still question if He will or not. What I really want is for Him to open the gates to let my kids out, and to send hornets on anyone who stands in the way.

It's hard to wait. It's hard not knowing what the future holds. And part of what's been so hard about this adoption is we have been promised time and time again that there will be progress "next week" and unmet expectations are really tough.

So I pray, Lord give me grace to ponder and understand what you're doing. Because I don't get it. I don't want to wait until you do something to believe you're at work. But I don't know how to believe when I see no progress and my heart so vulnerable again and again. Have mercy on me and my boys and don't make me leave them again. Please please please please please.

(I should note this post was written about two weeks ago, but I just now have gotten around to posting it. Follow up soon.)

A Monologue with Matt

2012-11-16T00:30:00.003-06:00

I've got this friend named Matt who has played a pretty significant role in my life. Matt and I met when we lived overseas in Jr. High. Our parent's both worked for the U.S. Embassy in a... um... very difficult country.

We pretty much spent every day together for two years, and I was massive liar before I knew Matt. It was during those two years that I really came to own my own faith as I was going through all kinds of crap in life. I started seeking the Lord pretty intensely and Matt was a big part of helping me figure that out.

Recently we haven't seen each other much. I saw him once right before I got married seven years ago, and he supported my wife and I for several years while he was still in school. Problems cropped up when through a bad connection and incompetence on my part I called to ask for some support and ended up being kind of an ass. We didn't talk for a while as I was still trying to figure out how to repair things and then a few months back I finally found him again online through his wife and apologized.

Intially he forgave me and then when I found out he wasn't really walking with the Lord anymore I got grumpy with him and probably burned whatever bridge we had just repaired. It was a knee-jerk reaction. How the heck does the guy who in a large part is responsible for me walking with the Lord, stop walking with the Lord? It's like a friend who talks you in to switching from Hanes to Fruit of the Loom undershirts and then a few years later you find out he's wearing Hanes.

Okay bad comparison, but you get the point.

So this is titled "Monologues with Matt" because I anticipate it being much more a monologue than a dialogue. I will also drop what I write up in to an email and send it his way, but I don't know that I anticipate him actually reading it, let alone engaging with it. I post it here because whether he interacts or not, we all have friends who have wrestled with their faith. I hope my processing some of these things will be helpful to your process in loving on your friends.

On the to the meat. First of all you should know Matt is brilliant. Like probably one of the most brilliant people I've ever known (if not THE most brilliant). Even when I'm seven miles in to a run and having wonderful delusions of granduer imagining myself as president of the United States, I still imagine hiring Matt as my main advisor because even when delusional, I still know he's brighter than me by a substantial margain.

To be honest I think a large part of his wrestling with his faith is probably due to his brilliance. That said I simply don’t buy the argument that some people are too smart for faith. There may be a large number of intellectuals who do not seek God, but there are also an awful lot who do. Some scientists find excuses for the lack of God in their work, but others see his outrageous artwork in creation. In my opinion it’s not that much different than the world of teachers or soccer players. There are believers and non-believers everywhere.

Romans says, “For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.” - 1 Corinthians 1:22-24. My understanding of this is that we all have our own excuses for what we want to see God provide, but frankly it’s just going to be foolishness to us unless we are called. Then it’s brilliance.

Part of what I wrestle with over this thing with Matt is that he was one of those people who found wonder in God everywhere he looked. Everything in life was informed by his love for the Lord, especially his intellect. Christ was the wisdom and power of God.

Recently I read a book about missionaries who lost their faith in the field. I also read a book about a former believer who fell in to mormonism. The thing they had in common was they stopped reading the Bible. I know that sounds simple, but in the latter the lady says very clearly that this is the reason she points to for her being confused (when she latter came back to the Lord). Hebrews 4:12 says, “For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart.”

The word is living and active. That is to say, the Bible is pretty tough. It has absolutely been my experience that reading the word is essential to continuing in my life in Christ. I may be way off, but I wonder how much of Matt’s questioning has come from stopping reading the word. And which actually came first? Matt, if you’re reading this I challenge you to spend some time reading the Bible and see anew what you think. The book is ridiculously brilliant. Maybe being in grad school and then post-grad school just made very little time for the Word. I don’t know.

Whatever you choose to do, please know buddy that I press this issue only because I really do genuinely love you, and it’s hard for me to hear what was once of utmost importance to you is now just a thing of your past. I tell people about Jesus for a living. I live in an uncomfortable place to do so. And you were an essential part of making me chase hard after the Lord. Miss you man.

I have every intention of buying you a beer in heaven. I don’t want you to just get there. I want to someday again see the Matt that would have stormed the gates.

The Worth and Cost of Humility

2012-11-13T21:18:00.000-06:00

I've been chewing lately on the idea that the worth of humility really is worth the cost. I need to learn to pray more for it without fear.

Humility is something I've prayed for but only in fear. Fear of what the Lord would have to do to humble someone as prideful as me. Fear of being broken frankly. But the more I'm reading the word the more I'm seeing humility as an essential for any man of God. This may be obvious to you, but is just now slowly sinking in for me.

Is Your Church THE Church Universal?

2012-11-02T03:00:00.001-05:00

Or a local expression of the Church universal?

And if the latter how should it look different from an isolated church that sees itself as the body instead of part of the body.

I think this is the root of frustration with a lot of ecclesiology I've seen. Have we ever even thought about what the church is? Or just how ours should be decorated and liturgically ordered?

Praying for the Lord's Work in Others

2012-10-29T18:18:00.001-05:00

"I do not cease to give thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers, that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of him . . ." - Ephesians 1:16-17

A reminder that I need to be praying more for my new (and old) Christian friends that the Lord would give then wisdom and revelation. It's the Lord that grows them in to mature believers. Not me. My work is to pray.

So Long as God has Put it Into Our Hands - Fraser

2012-10-25T19:12:00.001-05:00

I'm reading Mountain Rain, by James O. Fraser's daughter.

“A little thing is a little thing,” Hudson Taylor said. “But faithfulness in a little thing is a great thing.”

At this time, James wrote: “It has come home to me very forcibly of late that it matters little what the work is in which we are engaged so long as God has put it into our hands.”

He continued: "The temptation I have often had to contend with is persistent under many forms: “If only I were in such and such a position” for example, “shouldn’t I be able to do a great work! Yes, I am only studying engineering at present, but when I am in training for missionary work things will be different and more helpful.” Or “I am just in preparation at present, taking Bible courses and so on, but when I get out to China my work will begin.” “Yes, I have left home now, but I am only on the voyage, you know; when I am really in China, I shall have a splendid chance of service.” Or, “Well, here in the Training Home, all my time must be given to language study—how can I do missionary work? But when I am settled down in my station and able to speak freely, opportunities will be unlimited!” etc., etc. It is all if and when. I believe the devil is fond of those conjunctions. ... The plain truth is that the Scriptures never teach us to wait for opportunities of service, but to serve in just the things that lie next to our hands. ... The Lord bids us work, watch and pray; but Satan suggests, wait until a good opportunity for working, watching, and praying presents itself—and needless to say, this opportunity is always in the future ... Since the things that lie in our immediate path have been ordered of God, who shall say that one kind of work is more important and sacred than another?”

On Condemning Non-Believers for Their Sin (1 Cor 5:12)

2012-09-16T20:08:00.001-05:00

"For what have I to do with judging outsiders? Is it not those inside the church whom you are to judge?
God judges those outside. 'Purge the evil person from among you.'" - 1 Corinthians 5:12-13

Here is specific instruction from the Lord that the sins of this world (sexual immorality in this context) are not acceptable to be found among us. But on the other side of the coin, and perhaps more importantly, we are not to be judging or disassociating ourselves with such people who are not in Christ. If we do not associate with such non-believers, who will love them? Who will demonstrate the love of Christ to them?

Yet the seeming standard of operation for believers these days is to do exactly the opposite. In the news, and even from the pulpit you see Christians denouncing non-believers for the sins of the world. When we should be loving and not judging them. Likewise American churches, especially small ones, seldom practice church discipline. If we don't, even a little sin can destroy us from the inside (see verses 6 and 7). Our judgement is to be inward focused, not outward. Our love is supposed to be in both areas, but outward focused love should be void of judgement.

Love those outside the Church. Judge and deal appropriately with those inside the Church. For those who God already has their soul, he now wants their whole. For those who he does not yet have, He wants their soul, not their sin first. If we do not know the Lord, what motivation have we to care about truth? We care to live lives honoring to God because we've seen His glory. But non believers need to see His glory and His love before they will desire to honor Him in their own lives (and thus mortify sin).

The inward focus, which includes discipline, is to encourage the Holy Spirit to be at work in the lives of those in the church — thus improving our witness. The outward focus, which does not include discipline, is to love without condition, so others may know how Christ has loved us.

Foolish Words

2012-09-02T07:18:00.000-05:00

Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruits. - Proverbs 18:21
I've been fond of words for as long as I can remember. It started out so bad that when I was 6 or 7 I went through a phase where I made every sentence rhyme; even if it produced nonsense as a result. This went on until my brother mocked me mercilessly out of the habit. But my love for words didn't die out.

Later I submitted a poem in fifth grade to a state competition titled, "Ninja Mom", for which I won some kind of rare stone I gave to my mother as a gift. In sixth grade my best friend and I started a small weekly publication called "The Stupidest Questions Ever" and we reached a circulation of about 50 between our two schools. We never made any money, but we were very impressed at people's interest in the things we wrote, no matter how seemingly unimportant.

With the discovery of the internet (I like to think of it as discovered rather than invented) by Al Gore, it is easier than ever to write and gain an audience.

About 5 years ago I began to blog right here for the first time with regularity. And six months later a good friend and I began The Sieve and the Sand, where many folks have been writing absurd amounts of mediocre poetry for years now. And I love it. Way more people than I ever imagined read my writing now (small beans by web standards but nonetheless). My most popular post of all time has become a write up I did on how to plant a church.

I am by far not the most qualified person to be writing about church planting, but people listen because I write regularly and therefore Google confused me with someone who knows something. And words have power.

A gentle tongue is a tree of life, but perverseness in it breaks the spirit. - Proverbs 15:4
And therein lies the problem, words have power. There is a good chance that girl I called ugly in front of my whole elementary school class never forgot what I said. After seeing the look on her face I never did either. Because while I meant very little to her, my words had power — terrible power.

This is why I am thankful for a little intervention my friends had with me yesterday. You can always be thankful before the Lord for friends who will call you out on your foolishness and do so lovingly.

These two friends sat me down to tell me I've been too fast and loose with my words. The tipping point was offending (unintentionally, but still) one of their brothers-in-law. But that was just the tipping point, the problem ran much deeper.

One friend said to me, "You desire to be known for your words. That will probably happen because of your personality. But what kind of words will you be known for?"

That hurt, in a good way, but nonetheless it's hard to be reminded I've been an ass with my words.

The other friend said, "You're overly bold because you think you can repair things later. So you don't worry about offending people now. And that's dangerous because someday you won't be able to repair things."

Both of these comments seriously hit home for me. I'm pretty fast and lose with my words because I am offended by so little I assume everyone else is the same way, even though I know that isn't the case. And I've always been able to repair things later if I messed up and been aware of it. But I haven't always been aware of it, and continuing to act like this will certainly hurt my witness.

Actually, the issue is not new. It isn't new to either of the friends who sat me down to talk about it, and it's been the primary issue in my marriage. My wife wishes I used my words better, and I often foolishly argue back that I do "just fine." If I were just a guy who didn't know Jesus I think I might be okay with that, but as a person seeking His glory and His Kingdom I want to get my act together.

If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person's religion is worthless. - James 1:26
I've written before about the hurt caused to me by a close friend in High School who basically told me he wasn't going to be my friend anymore. This happens to girls much more than men, but it nevertheless happened to me. And I was pretty devastated. In retrospect I think there is a good chance that it was my carelessness with my words (among other things) which drove that friend to frustration, and eventually ending our friendship.

Sadly, the very night my friend told me he was done with me, I offended another person. There was a girl hanging out with a bunch of us that night who was to turn out to be one of my best friends for many years. And I recall the look on her face that night, and it was not a happy face as I stood in a large crowd with many of my other closest friends — people around whom I completely let my guard down. Later that night she needed a ride home and I offered to drive her because I could tell I had rubbed her the wrong way. On the car ride home I was able to discuss some deep things with her and even pray for her a good bit before I got her home.

Years later she told me how angry she was with me that night, and how had I not driven her home and won her over, there is a good chance she would have never talked to me again. And she turned out to be one of my best friends! I've often looked at it as an example of being able to right my wrongs with my tongue, even arguing that it's better to make a mistake and apolgize than to never mess up. But especially after the discussion yesterday I no longer think that. Now I see it as a prime example of how I can mess things up with important relationships if I'm not careful.

Ever since that friend told me she almost never talked to me again, I have been much more careful with women than with guys. I work much harder to see that I've won them over before I proceed to make jokes with them.

But I'd like to shift gears, and care about the impact my words are making with everyone. It's true, I desire to be known by my words. I write terribly imperfectly, but I hope the words impact people and point them to Jesus. I speak terribly foolishly, but I hope my foolishness is exclusive to my attempts at loving people.

I definitely feel I'm called to speak boldly and often where no one else is willing. I won't always strike a good balance between speaking painful truth and doing it lovingly, but I certainly need to try. I'm incredibly thankful for my friends and their discussing this with me, and I hope I manage to take it to heart as well as actually change. I hope I understand the value of my words, the power of my words for good and evil, and I hope as a result I find better how to be like Christ with my words.

Let your gentle spirit be known to all men. The Lord is near - Philippians 4:5 (NASB)

On Praying a Whole Lot, and Confusing Seeking God With Selfish Pride

2012-08-27T03:54:00.001-05:00

We pray our brains off, as a team, every day for an hour. We could pray even more I suppose. But this seems like a good balance as it is ridiculous prayer and then also leaves lots of time to go do the things for which we asked the Lord's help.

Sometimes, like many things though, it becomes about us. Yes, we truly do believe that a team of seven people can't begin to transform a city (our attempted vision) of seven million without serious intervention from the Holy Spirit. And yes, we truly believe what James Fraser said is right, "Solid, lasting missionary work is done on our knees."

And while we believe those things, we also get praised for praying so much. And then we start to think, "Yea, we're pretty smart people to pray." Or we look down our noses at the "less spiritual".

And it's embarrassing really to be so foolish. But thankfully we know the solution. Prayer. Talking with God is the solution to an awful lot, because God is good at convicting us of sin. And laughing at our foolishness; sometimes loudly enough we can't ignore the laughter.

We pray because we're not supposed to be anxious in anything, but rather, "by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving [we want our] requests [to] be made known to God." (Phil 4:6). And we pray because we believe "the prayer of faith will save the one who is sick, and the Lord will raise him up. And if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven." (Jas 5:15)

We pray because we know it is powerful. We pray because we believe the Creator of the universe hears our prayers. And sometimes we pray because it sinfully supports our foolish pride. But the Lord ridiculously faithfully answers our prayers, even though we don't always have our act together.

And it's awesome.

Think and Smoke Tobacco, a Puritan Poem

2012-08-19T22:33:00.000-05:00

In vain th' unlighted pipe you blow;
Your pains in inward means are so,
            'Till heav'nly fire
            Thy heart inspire.
      Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

We're as useless without the Holy Spirit as an unlighted pipe. The rest of the poem is fantastic as well.

Principles of Church Government

2012-08-09T02:00:00.003-05:00

I recently finished reading two different books on church government, one from a Baptist (congregationalist) perspective and one from a Presbyterian. I know there are many views on church government besides these two. But while there are differing views on the big issues, in my opinion a lot of the differences arise because of how we define a "church"; i.e. is it in a city, or a one meeting location, or a district, or what?

If "church" is just a meeting location under one roof then it's government will clearly look different than if "church" is understood as all the believers in one city. If the former is your understanding then I can understand the Baptist system of government, and if the latter, then the Presbyterian conclusions make sense to me as well. What frustrated me about both of the books I read is that they both basically address the issue, then state that the Bible doesn't tell us specifically how to understand the local church, though it says a lot about the Church universal; but then both seemed to just ignore the ambiguity and draw the conclusions that make most sense to their understanding.

My opinion is that both are acceptable understandings if you understand how the conclusions are reached. Both sides truly believe they are being faithful to the word which is about as much as we can ask. Obviously at the end of the day you end up going with one method or the other. But in my opinion the more important thing is not attempting to find the perfect method (because there isn't a perfect method as long as there is fallible man), but rather, demonstrating love for others with differing views.

To introduce yourself saying, "Hi, I'm Bob and I'm a Presbyterian," is basically inherently divisive. It's a bit like saying, "Hi, I'm Bob and I thinking spanking children is unacceptable." Just by stating this viewpoint out the gate you're more saying what you disagree with rather than what you agree with. Identifying as a presby or a congregationalist is not a bad thing, in the same way having an opinion about disciple is necessary. When people ask you about how you discipline your children you absolutely have freedom to share, in the same way when people ask you about your view of government is appropriate to answer. But I think as believers we could be a lot more careful in how we look down our noses in our self identification.

That said, I think there are some principles which both views can (and in my opinion all views should) agree upon.

1) There should be multiple elders. A single person in leadership has much too much potential to go bad; if man were not sinful one leader would be fine. (Notice the plural nature of the word elders in Acts 14:23 and Acts 15).

2) Leadership is not be a lording-over-others leadership, but servant leadership. (Ezekiel 34:1-10, and Matthew 20:26 amongst others).

3) Leaders must be passionate lovers of Christ, His church (people), and the Word. (How can they lead if they don't obey the Great Commandment? Matthew 22:36-40)

4) Leaders must meet the Biblical requirements of character. (See the Timothys and Titus)

Notice this does not list education requirements for leaders or those in church government.

As an aside I'd state, Jesus didn't have an MDiv. You may argue he had a great education, but many people with great educations are not allowed in church leadership because they don't have a paper with those 4 letters hanging on the wall. If Jesus himself couldn't walk in to your church and be qualified for leadership I'd suggest you have some issues.

Lessons on Leading

2012-07-22T06:06:00.000-05:00

I've been in ministry now full time for several years, and have been leading for about 4 years. I'm shocked at how much I'm still learning about it, but how much I also think all of the main ideas can be boiled down to just a few a things. So without further ado...

Things I've learned and would say I believe about leadership at a relatively young age:

1) Numbers are only useful tools for evaluation and should never be the end in themselves. Frequently, even when used for evaluation, the heart of the issue is missed completely in favor of pleasing others above you with numbers. That is to say, having respectable numbers are easier to report your bosses, even if being completely faithful to what the Lord would have you be doing doesn't produce hardly anything for numbers.

2) My level of satisfaction with what I and my team are doing is barely related to what they are actually doing and directly related to my walk with the Lord. When I'm satisfied in the Lord I'm satisfied in my team and their ministry. I believe this is at least partially related to the fact that when I'm tuned in to the Lord I'm (a) setting a good example to them for dependance on the Lord (our number 1 priority as ministers) and (b) better able to love them out of the overflow I'm experiencing with the Lord.

3) My primary role as a leader in ministry is to love the people the Lord has entrusted me with. This starts with my team, and is secondarily followed by locals involved in the ministry.

4) Calling people to better chase passionately after the Lord is one of the most rewarding, effective, and awesome ministries which can be done just about anywhere with anyone.

5) My foolish pride (not that there are other kinds... but still) is often my biggest obstacle to leading well.

Set Free for Freedom's Sake — for Goodness Sake (Gal 5:1)

2012-06-27T22:56:00.001-05:00

"For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery." - Galatians 5:1

Last week I met a good buddy for lunch. He became a believer about 7 years ago, and then was involved with a cult for 5 years. Two years ago he left that cult through immense spiritual warfare (as you can imagine), married his girlfriend, got his life together and sought the Lord. He spent the first year out of that craziness telling me about how obvious it was that the church he used to be in was filled with lies.

Well when I met him last week he told me was considering going back. I was devastated... I love this guy. How can he go back to something he so clearly knew was wrong? I am reminded of the quotes I posted recently from the book "Out of Mormonism" where the author clearly states she was lured in to Mormonism because she stopped reading her Bible. And that's what my friend had done.

So for the last 7 days he and I have been reading through Galatians and I've been chewing specifically on this verse. Christ came to set us free. More specifically he set us free for the very specific purpose of freedom. How awesome is that?

And how foolish are we to return again to a yoke of slavery? In just mentioning this briefly to my friend yesterday he sort of laughed, "Yea," he said of his old church, "they have an absurd number of rules that don't seem Biblical at all." And they certainly aren't for freedom.

The longer I tell people about Jesus the more I'm convinced that one of the most significant ways we as believers are supposed to be different from the world around us is our lifestyle of freedom. We are supposed to be free indeed; that is, after all, why Christ set us free.

No one who is set free from prison runs immediately across the street to another prison and asks to be put back in the chains he's grown so accustomed to. And yet Christ releases us, and then we run back to enslavement because we're too foolish to stand up and dance, rejoicing in our liberty.

Teaching Pant-less Preachers

2012-06-25T02:00:00.003-05:00

The following text is slightly modified from a recent prayer letter I sent out to our supporters, uniquely qualified to fill a space here:

A few weeks ago on a Wednesday afternoon a local pastor came down for an afternoon training. He walked in to our little office and took his pants off. Just laid them over the chair like it was nothing and sat down in his boxers to study. I've been walking him through one of the materials our team offers, hoping he can learn it well enough to offer the training in his church. But this is the first time I've been in the presence of a pant-less pastor while teaching.

While we've been here a while now, and less and less seems to surprise me, I suppose there are still a number of cultural things I just simply wont ever understand.

The next week I had the opportunity to preach at the same pastor's house church. This isn't actually something I've done very often. While I teach a lot, I seldom have opportunity to preach. One of the things I love about teaching the Bible is the way it requires me to really dive in to it for a while and pull out something that works on my heart. So that morning I spoke on Psalm 1.

I cant share everything I spoke about in this little of a space, but the part the Lord really used to work in my heart is related to the righteous person being planted by streams of water. While I've read this chapter many times, it had never sunk in just how significant it is that we as believers receive our life from a completely different source than the world.

Most people around us depend on themselves for everything. They're taught that this isn't just the way things are, but that it's also inherently good to not need others. Some people call religion, or even Jesus, a crutch. Something to lean on so you don't have to support yourself. It's such an apt description.

The beauty of this passage is that we are the righteous ones. We are not planted by the stream of water because we're awesome, but rather because Christ is awesome. We are righteous despite our unrighteousness because of the work of Christ (praise the Lord for the Gospel). And as a result this whole Psalm is not a burden-giving directive, but rather is a burden-relieving promise. We will bear fruit, because our life source is constant. We could attempt to live on our own strength, but it would be pretty foolish when our life source is the stream we were graciously planted beside.

The Holy Spirit lives in us, empowers us, strengthens us, and communes with us. And feeding us we have the Word of God; the life-breathing, liberty-giving, good news of our God's great love for His people. All because Christ is awesome.

I've been chewing on this truth for some time now. How the Lord uses us despite our foolishness, sometimes in hilarious pant-less situations. How He feeds us from His word despite our ignorance. How He gives us the strength to live, love others, and minister despite our constant weakness and baseless fear the stream will dry up.
Anyhow, I've been blessed recently as I've dwelled on my source of life being the Lord and His Word. I hope it's a blessing to you as well.

And if ever I find myself teaching a 60 year old man who has pastored a church for 33 years while he lounges around in his boxers again, I hope I'm just as humbled by it as I was the first time. I also hope the Lord continues to bless us with such ridiculous opportunity because of His grace, mercy, and willingness to bear fruit through such a strange looking tree planted by His stream of life.

Power and Weakness (2 Cor 12)

2012-06-17T19:34:00.001-05:00

"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." - 2 Cor 12

I've been dwelling a lot on this verse over the last six months, largely because I've been so awful weak. I've been sick as sick can be, and often right in the midst of the sickness is when the Lord shows up and intends for me to do ministry. I hate it because I hate feeling week. I've been a missionary for some time now and frankly, while it isn't perfect, my language is mighty good. I can speak clearly. Communicate well. Speak encouraging words. Share what I've learned from the word. Even my prayers in the native tongue are more and more eloquent (yes I know this is ridiculous). So weakness is unsettling.

The first year I was here, back when I couldn't communicate anything more than a very poorly accented "hello", I still saw an outrageous amount of fruit. I was weak and God showed up because He had to, because I was too incompetent to do anything but stare at my friends and smile unless He was at work. He showed because I needed Him to.

Now I depend on myself much too much. Though, I have grown to see things like colds as opportunities to watch the Lord do significant things. And when my friends are sick, or otherwise weak for another reason, I almost look down at them for feeling weak instead of strong in the Lord.

I know, I'm an ass sometimes (read: frequently).

Then this week something new happened. I got an absurdly painful infection right in my manhood. (One of the advantages of blogging psudonymously is this is easier to admit when you don't know me). And you know what this infection did? Well, for one thing it didn't offer me opportunity to minister out of weakness. In fact it didn't hardly give me opportunity to stand up. If I wasn't laying down I was in excruciating pain.

Last night I got up from the couch to walk to the bedroom and I had to lay in the fetal position for about 4 minutes just to overcome the urge to cry.

This is a different kind of weakness. A much bigger weakness. I have no idea what Paul was struggling with (his "thorn"), maybe he couldn't even walk around without experiencing overwhelming pain. But I do know pain like this has certainly given me an appreciation for people who live with it chronically. It's also awaken me to my mortality a bit (though I still think of myself as young and invincible).

I'm trying to lean in the direction of looking forward to aging and the ways the Lord will use me despite my frailty. I don't know if I'm getting there though.

But I think I see the point. My strength won't last forever. And the sooner I can get good at leaning on the Lord instead of my own competence, the sooner the Lord will be accomplishing God sized things through me. I don't want to be 70 and falling apart before I start leaning on the Lord again.

That said, it sure feels like I'm standing in a gym looking at a heavy barbell I think I might just be able to lift, and the Lord's saying, "I got this." It's hard to let Him sometimes, but other times my balls hurt so bad I can't stand up to try. And then I stand back (or lay back, as the case may be) and watch God pick up the whole gym.

Goodness our strength is pathetic, our foolishness blinding, and the Lord's grace is outrageous. Praise the Lord for the good news of our undeserved salvation, for the gospel.

Out of Mormonism

2012-05-19T20:30:00.004-05:00

I got Out of Mormonism on Gospel eBooks a little while back, but just now started reading it. Goodness. I'll quote a section here at length about the temple cleansing and the special underwear you get to wear as an lds. I don't know about you, but I get even more excited about Mitt Romney thinking of him wearing a special underwear that he received from the momos.

A female temple worker told me to remove my clothing as she handed me a white garment called a shield. I stood naked in a private cubicle and slipped the shield over my head. It looked like a sheet with a hole in it for my head, open on either side. Other women wearing shields sat on benches waiting their turn in the washing and anointing room. We didn't look at or speak to each other. We stared straight ahead with blank expressions on our faces.

At this point, I vaguely remember being told I would now be prepared, "cleansed from the blood and sins of this generation." The moments that followed are blocked from my memory. But after I listened to the actual tape recordings of the temple ritual, I now know that a woman temple worker wets her hand in water and ceremonially washes every part of your body. She reaches under the shield lightly touching each body part as she recites words of the ceremony.

After the washing with water, I was led into another part of the room and seated on a throne-like chair. Another temple worker poured drops of oil from a large horn onto my head and into her own hand. Then she anointed each part of my body with oil to prepare me to become a "queen and a priestess unto the Most High God, hereafter to rule and reign in the House of Israel forever.

I didn't feel like a queen-in-waiting; I felt defiled, ashamed, and bewildered.

After the cleansing and anointing procedure, I received my special underwear.

"Sister Robertson, having authority, I place this garment upon you," the temple worker's arms reached under the shield, pulling the nylon one-piece undergarment on me. "It represents the garment given to Adam when he was found naked in the garden of Eden, and is called the garment of the holy priesthood."

The garment covered me from neckline to cap sleeves and down, reaching to just above my knees. I felt uncomfortable and claustrophobic. "Inasmuch as you do not defile it, but are true and faithful to your covenants, it will be a shield and a protection to you against the power of the destroyer until you have finished your work on earth." I was told I must wear this garment of the holy priesthood next to my skin, even under ordinary underwear constantly, day and night, throughout my life.

"With this garment, I give you a new name, which you should always remember and which you must keep sacred, and never reveal except at a certain place that will be shown you hereafter." The temple worker whispered in my ear, "Your name is Augusta."

The washing and anointing procedure was supposed to cleanse me from the blood and sins of this generation. And yet I had been baptized eighteen years earlier in a Disciples of Christ Christian church, in the name of Jesus for the remission of sins.

Needless to say the book is very very interesting. It gets better too, as it delves in to the actual temple ceremony. The author's background as a cultural Christian is fascinating as she vaguely recalls what the Bible actually says throughout hearing the slight twist on the truth as the story progresses.

Also, as a person who watched a very close friend in High School leave the mormon church, I can attest to the terror involved. My friend was near suicidal for weeks following because of the terrible pressure that was asserted on her after leaving.