We were away for camp (retreat) this weekend. Late Saturday night, I walked out into the woods alone with my flashlight off. I didn't last long without the light (an armadillo gave me a bit of a scare), but I pressed on to the clearing at the lake and lay on the picnic table and stared at the northern cross and spoke to God in the darkenss--completely at ease and yet fully aware of my fear. I walked all the way back without the light. My soul really needed it.
I read Blue Like Jazz this summer (our whole student team did), and I pushed Luke to read it and have promised to send one to Mary Ann. I think the conversation the book creates is really important. I think he's right in a lot of things and he's right not to ditch the church--the church just has to be willing to keep asking these questions all the time. We tend to forget that ministry to a group of people 3 years ago may be nothing at all like what we need now and we have to force ourselves to keep asking what it means to follow Christ today, not yesterday. Many leaders in the church share this burden, it just gets hard--but God is faithul to raise up new voices to remind us if we'll listen.
I know many of my and your generation who find the book especially significant and we can't exactly explain why it's not just speaking of a new trend or a new "movement." It's about a new culture and a sense of longing. I don't have answers here, yet, but I think the book moves us past the borders of American evangelicalism and back into the fold of world-wide Christianity. We live in a religious culture that has made Christianity about us, and that's a mistake. I no longer teach people that "God has a wonderful plan for your life." Now I say, "God has a wonderful plan for the redemption of humanity and he wants you to be part of it." It's subtle, but the perspective shift is important and it puts the emphais back on Him and not me.
Monday, October 03, 2005
Monday, September 19, 2005
Generations
Jill spoke to us this morning about her grandfather and his influence on her life. Some of us knew more of the story, but when she visited him two weeks ago, he remembered her as if the bad days had never come. Dementia can be a gift.... She read to us from the Bible he had given her as a child, and it struck a chord. The Psalm she read, she could only read in King James--no matter how hard she tried, she would always remember it that way, in the innocence of simpler times.
When my sisters spoke of Grandaddy, they sometimes mentioned the hard times. They knew the stories about he and Dad that I had been shielded from--the stories that made Dad leave home. By the time I came along, his vigor was fading and the fire had dwindled. That's the way I remember him. Innocence and simpler times. When he died, Dad took me to the house and I went through his tools--the one thing I would most treasure and my cousins wouldn't desire. I know every tool in my toolbox and it's past. I know which ones came from his hands. I understand the marks on them and the stories they tell. I know his masonry hammer was sharpened on a grinder and the wheel ate into the handle. When I look at it, I always wonder if he did it, or some young carpenter sharpened it in haste...
When I use them, I feel connected to something bigger than me. I feel tied back to the hands of my fathers and I understand something within me. Those tools teach me about my own Dad and they teach me of his father and his father before him. They teach me why I love to work with my hands and how it came so naturally. My grandfather died in 1993. I had some time with him in the end. We talked about tools and such. He told me to get a hat that would cover my ears and he told Dad about the angel he saw. His hope in Christ carried through those last days. That hope carries my father and now it carries me. Our past winds back through time like a footpath in the woods--darting here and there through the trees. Few of us ever come to recognize the gift that it is and the story it will tell us if we quieten our hearts and walk along it's leaf strewn trail. I think God speaks to us through it--He tells us who we are.
When my sisters spoke of Grandaddy, they sometimes mentioned the hard times. They knew the stories about he and Dad that I had been shielded from--the stories that made Dad leave home. By the time I came along, his vigor was fading and the fire had dwindled. That's the way I remember him. Innocence and simpler times. When he died, Dad took me to the house and I went through his tools--the one thing I would most treasure and my cousins wouldn't desire. I know every tool in my toolbox and it's past. I know which ones came from his hands. I understand the marks on them and the stories they tell. I know his masonry hammer was sharpened on a grinder and the wheel ate into the handle. When I look at it, I always wonder if he did it, or some young carpenter sharpened it in haste...
When I use them, I feel connected to something bigger than me. I feel tied back to the hands of my fathers and I understand something within me. Those tools teach me about my own Dad and they teach me of his father and his father before him. They teach me why I love to work with my hands and how it came so naturally. My grandfather died in 1993. I had some time with him in the end. We talked about tools and such. He told me to get a hat that would cover my ears and he told Dad about the angel he saw. His hope in Christ carried through those last days. That hope carries my father and now it carries me. Our past winds back through time like a footpath in the woods--darting here and there through the trees. Few of us ever come to recognize the gift that it is and the story it will tell us if we quieten our hearts and walk along it's leaf strewn trail. I think God speaks to us through it--He tells us who we are.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Gilligan's Dead
I know it was last week, but I've been busy, and sick. I'm sad about Bob Denver. I grew up watching Gilligan's Island almost every day. It was the product of a simpler philosophy--a time when television didn't try to reflect reality. People watched tv to relax and laugh. No one then knew how much people would pay for in-depth profiles of sin and strife. Now, we're obsessed. Gilligan reminded me that we could choose something different to laugh at. Paul said it was shameful even to mention what the disobedient do in secret. Yet I'm entertained by it... I'll miss Gilligan.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Discipline versus Discipleship
I started a conversation with our Family Pastor today about my sermon coming up Nov 20 and would love to have any insight you might offer as I prepare. He's been talking about the Shemah lately (Deuteronomy 6:4-5) and how the Israelites neglected to pass on the teachings of their ancestors.
There's a lot of work to do yet to study the passage itself, but this train of thought is compelling (at the moment).
Sermon Text: Colossians 3:20-21
The conversation has been something like this (slightly edited):
I want to use the Shemah some for this sermon (at least, I'm leaning that way). I think the command to not exasperate, might be understood in the positive with DO disciple your children (your OWN children). Not only does North Dallas resemble pieces of this in the busyness of our culture, but those in the church tend to look to the church to disciple their children. Proverbs 1:8 actually says "do not forsake the Torah of your mother." Solomon's words here are referring back to the Shemah, given by God through Moses. Here, he is telling us to take the Torah (the law through Moses, the Shemah being the esseence) on as a necklace, as a garland. Jews used to wear the Shemah on their foreheads and tied around their arms. Solomon is playing with words and painting a picture of receiveing instruction from your parents (which assumes it is an essential part of who they are) like wearing the Shemah on your head. It's good, like a prized necklace. That's discipleship. Not exasperation.
I'm suprised at the number of parents who call us wanting us to disciple their kids. Certainly, we want them discipled and we do many, but the kids have to want it. I sometimes challenge the parents with, "I could show you how to do it. Would you be interested?"
I think there are some powerful insights to be had in transitioning from being an enforcer of rules to being a discipler.
Maybe the trick is in the balancing of the two. We tend to get stuck on discipline alone and end up frustrating/exasperating our children. If we begin to take the challenge to train and coach we move out of this as they grow old enough. I need to see the Greek and see if the word for children carries any age connotation. If these are little children or young people.
The "children obey your parents in everything" part may keep me away from some of this (because it's not about discipleship or seeking their wisdom), but there may still be a connection. It's the magic bullet really, children who obey and parents who don't frustrate them... If we can give them something practical to walk away with that morning, we'll have done them a great service.
There's a lot of work to do yet to study the passage itself, but this train of thought is compelling (at the moment).
Sermon Text: Colossians 3:20-21
20Children, obey your parents in everything, for this pleases the Lord.
21Fathers, do not embitter your children, or they will become discouraged.
The conversation has been something like this (slightly edited):
I want to use the Shemah some for this sermon (at least, I'm leaning that way). I think the command to not exasperate, might be understood in the positive with DO disciple your children (your OWN children). Not only does North Dallas resemble pieces of this in the busyness of our culture, but those in the church tend to look to the church to disciple their children. Proverbs 1:8 actually says "do not forsake the Torah of your mother." Solomon's words here are referring back to the Shemah, given by God through Moses. Here, he is telling us to take the Torah (the law through Moses, the Shemah being the esseence) on as a necklace, as a garland. Jews used to wear the Shemah on their foreheads and tied around their arms. Solomon is playing with words and painting a picture of receiveing instruction from your parents (which assumes it is an essential part of who they are) like wearing the Shemah on your head. It's good, like a prized necklace. That's discipleship. Not exasperation.
I'm suprised at the number of parents who call us wanting us to disciple their kids. Certainly, we want them discipled and we do many, but the kids have to want it. I sometimes challenge the parents with, "I could show you how to do it. Would you be interested?"
I think there are some powerful insights to be had in transitioning from being an enforcer of rules to being a discipler.
Bruce: I like your sermon thoughts and I'd love to see you tie in discipline also if it fits.
I believe that the command "bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord" encompasses discipling and disciplining.
Maybe the trick is in the balancing of the two. We tend to get stuck on discipline alone and end up frustrating/exasperating our children. If we begin to take the challenge to train and coach we move out of this as they grow old enough. I need to see the Greek and see if the word for children carries any age connotation. If these are little children or young people.
The "children obey your parents in everything" part may keep me away from some of this (because it's not about discipleship or seeking their wisdom), but there may still be a connection. It's the magic bullet really, children who obey and parents who don't frustrate them... If we can give them something practical to walk away with that morning, we'll have done them a great service.
Monday, August 29, 2005
Ongoing...
Just spoke with Mom (Monday afternoon):
Sisters, if you're reading this, don't tell her I told. After two weeks, Dad goes back to his physician, but if things aren't progressing well, he'll go to a pulmonologist. That's all to be expected. What disturbs Mom, however, is that pneumonia has been so quickly found. In her experience, it is always very difficult to find it. It doesn't just show up the size of a baseball on an X-Ray. So, she's still uneasy...and worried.
Monday:
Dad's going home this afternoon and they believe it truly is pneumonia! There will be a follow-up X-Ray in two weeks to confirm and monitor, but for now, that's it. Antibiotics and no chemotherapy.... Thanks for praying!
Saturday:
They want to keep Dad until Monday, at least, so the radiologists can look at him. There's a spot on his lung the size of a baseball. It might not be pneumonia... Mom's having a hard time talking about it. Please pray for my family.
Friday:
Dad was doing better today. The initial tests for tuberculosis were negative and no one has mentioned a stroke. They had a scare this morning when he started shaking pretty significantly and the doctors ignored Mom about it at first. Later, she pointed out that they had been failing to give him Morphine, to which he is necessarily addicted. They had sent him into withdrawal and later apologized.
Sisters, if you're reading this, don't tell her I told. After two weeks, Dad goes back to his physician, but if things aren't progressing well, he'll go to a pulmonologist. That's all to be expected. What disturbs Mom, however, is that pneumonia has been so quickly found. In her experience, it is always very difficult to find it. It doesn't just show up the size of a baseball on an X-Ray. So, she's still uneasy...and worried.
Monday:
Dad's going home this afternoon and they believe it truly is pneumonia! There will be a follow-up X-Ray in two weeks to confirm and monitor, but for now, that's it. Antibiotics and no chemotherapy.... Thanks for praying!
Saturday:
They want to keep Dad until Monday, at least, so the radiologists can look at him. There's a spot on his lung the size of a baseball. It might not be pneumonia... Mom's having a hard time talking about it. Please pray for my family.
Friday:
Dad was doing better today. The initial tests for tuberculosis were negative and no one has mentioned a stroke. They had a scare this morning when he started shaking pretty significantly and the doctors ignored Mom about it at first. Later, she pointed out that they had been failing to give him Morphine, to which he is necessarily addicted. They had sent him into withdrawal and later apologized.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Daddy
My Dad fell down this morning and is in a hospital in East Tennessee tonight. Mom awoke at 6:47 to find him with his feet still inside the house, but his body sprawled onto the concrete slab, one step below their back door. He hadn't even called for her--he just lay there until she got up. Remarkably, he didn't break any bones, but he's not well. He has pneumonia and they await the results of today's CT scan to see if a stroke was involved.
Dad's been struggling with a range of ailments these last few years and an event like this makes us all really nervous. In honesty, there have been weeks where I was amazed he was still walking. Certainly, the lack of broken bones reminds us that he is still a bit tougher than we thought--at least on the outside. His insides are a mess, but there's more to this.
On the inside, Dad has been softening. It must have been over a decade ago when I explained that I wasn't going to be an engineer and was moving toward full time ministry. He was disappointed and it hurt, but I only hold onto that memory for one reason: he's not disappointed anymore. I don't remember exactly when the changes started. After his first heart attack, our relationship began to shift. By the time Grandaddy died, we would have regular conversations about the Bible and God's goodness. A trip to Virginia about three years ago was the clincher. Something happened on that trip.
Dad has always believed, but I'm not so sure he used to believe that the forgiveness God offers really applied to him personally, and I don't think he really believed it was free. He does now. Don't read ahead--those of you who know Rex Pruitt wouldn't really call him tender. But if you know him well, you know that he sits by the beds of those who are dying, and he does the laundry on Mondays and he teaches the Bible to his class every Sunday. There are hints of Galatians 5:22-23 on the insides.
Daddy's proud that I am in ministry now--he tells me whenever he sees me. I'm proud of him too. Please pray for him to heal. We want him to see me graduate from seminary. And pray for mom too--she found her husband lying in a doorway this morning. I'm sure we can imagine what her fears must have been. And pray for my sister, who is taking care of them.
Dad's been struggling with a range of ailments these last few years and an event like this makes us all really nervous. In honesty, there have been weeks where I was amazed he was still walking. Certainly, the lack of broken bones reminds us that he is still a bit tougher than we thought--at least on the outside. His insides are a mess, but there's more to this.
On the inside, Dad has been softening. It must have been over a decade ago when I explained that I wasn't going to be an engineer and was moving toward full time ministry. He was disappointed and it hurt, but I only hold onto that memory for one reason: he's not disappointed anymore. I don't remember exactly when the changes started. After his first heart attack, our relationship began to shift. By the time Grandaddy died, we would have regular conversations about the Bible and God's goodness. A trip to Virginia about three years ago was the clincher. Something happened on that trip.
Dad has always believed, but I'm not so sure he used to believe that the forgiveness God offers really applied to him personally, and I don't think he really believed it was free. He does now. Don't read ahead--those of you who know Rex Pruitt wouldn't really call him tender. But if you know him well, you know that he sits by the beds of those who are dying, and he does the laundry on Mondays and he teaches the Bible to his class every Sunday. There are hints of Galatians 5:22-23 on the insides.
Daddy's proud that I am in ministry now--he tells me whenever he sees me. I'm proud of him too. Please pray for him to heal. We want him to see me graduate from seminary. And pray for mom too--she found her husband lying in a doorway this morning. I'm sure we can imagine what her fears must have been. And pray for my sister, who is taking care of them.
Monday, August 22, 2005
Gorillas in the Midst
Tonight was the first official practice for the Rowlett Gorillas--my very own soccer team! Actually, they're the Green Gorillas, or just the Girl-illas, but we stick with Gorillas to keep it simple. I know what you're thinking; "Doesn't work and seminary already make it hard for Steve to save time for his own kids?" Well, yes, but this is also Madison's team and Megan is my assistant. Madison got sick and couldn't make practice, but Megan did a great job setting up the field!Truth be told, I know very little about soccer. But I know a lot about kids, and even more about parents. We told the parents that one of our primary goals was to teach each of the girls what her value was to the team. Granted, 5-year-olds don't play like Beckham, but some are fast, some are brave, some are clever and some are intimidating. In the end, we want these little girls to believe they are special--not because everyone is special, but because we've been able to encourage very specific things in each of them through the season. But the best part is the parents.
Wendy is awesome. For the parent meeting, where the coach tells the parents what's going on and how much they owe, most coaches meet at the practice field and roll through the material. Wendy had them all over for tea and cookies and we sat in our living room with a group of strangers and we got to know every parent and where they work. One mom even told Wendy about the custody issue they were struggling with. For those of us who work in the church, you cannot imagine how good that felt and how good it is for my family. We have a group of people who are trusting us with their children and allowing us to enter their lives and we have no idea where they are with Christ. Pray for us. Sometimes the best thing in the world for an overwhelmed family is to add one more thing--one thing that keeps everyone focused on why we're here in the first place.
Laptops for the Lawless
This is pretty sad. I'm especially disturbed by the way people blamed the county for poor management. They should have known that people would trample old folks who got in their way. As if...
Monday, August 15, 2005
Bear Essentials
Last week, Wendy's dad noticed an especially large dog outside his Tennessee home. When his wife looked out the window, they realized it wasn't a dog--it was a bear. Wendy's parents live inside a city of about 60,000 people. There aren't supposed to be bears there. Animal Control assured them it was being tracked and would be returned to the mountains. So much for the bear.
The next day, Wendy's mom saw the neighbors outside and went to the rescue. She informed them of the bear story and proceeded to bang two pots together to keep the bear at bay. Anyone who has seen the Discovery Channel knows that was a good plan, but there probably wasn't a bear within miles by that point. There's a lesson in here.
Many of us live in fear of bears we have never seen. We convince ourselves that they're real and then when trouble comes, no matter how small, we panic because we have already taught ourselves that it must be a bear. Jack Groppel calls these "boars in the woods" and says they derail us from our mission (Jack doesn't know about the bear, but he actually tests this on people using a fake boar).
If you ever see a bear out your window, then grab some pots and make some noise. But most of us have never seen a bear anywhere near our windows. As believers, we don't have to be derailed by fear of things that aren't there. Quit being afraid of them. Do not conform any longer to the [fears] of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is.
The next day, Wendy's mom saw the neighbors outside and went to the rescue. She informed them of the bear story and proceeded to bang two pots together to keep the bear at bay. Anyone who has seen the Discovery Channel knows that was a good plan, but there probably wasn't a bear within miles by that point. There's a lesson in here.
Many of us live in fear of bears we have never seen. We convince ourselves that they're real and then when trouble comes, no matter how small, we panic because we have already taught ourselves that it must be a bear. Jack Groppel calls these "boars in the woods" and says they derail us from our mission (Jack doesn't know about the bear, but he actually tests this on people using a fake boar).
If you ever see a bear out your window, then grab some pots and make some noise. But most of us have never seen a bear anywhere near our windows. As believers, we don't have to be derailed by fear of things that aren't there. Quit being afraid of them. Do not conform any longer to the [fears] of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Made in China
Wendy's doing much better--the stone seemed to pass sometime Friday evening. When you live as far away from your church as we do, it's pretty surprising to watch people step into your lives. Wendy called me at work on Thursday; Allie immediately offered to come keep the kids so we could go to the hospital. Friday evening, Amy called and ordered supper for us at Chilis. Sunday afternoon, Stephanie handed me a meal for the night. And, of course, the Riot of Passage at Six Flags went well without me, even with a thunderstorm in the middle of the day (I have a wonderful team and a great boss).
The church is an amazing thing, really. Sometimes you wonder why we bother; other times you wonder what you would do without it. Moving to a metroplex is no easy task. We often wonder about those who do it completely alone. We were lonely, but we do have the church and we too easily take it for granted. God provides through the church.
I've been troubled lately by the famine in Africa. Do Christians ever starve to death? I mean, Paul had times where he was in hunger. Certainly Christians die in persecution. Mr. Abassi told me of some students at his seminary who had recently witnessed a beheading by their captors and began to pray they would be shot instead of beheaded. Somehow they escaped. Here's my real question: Who's responsibility is it to make sure no Christians ever starve to death? In the New Testament, it was the church. Paul collected from the wealthier churches to provide for the poor ones--the ones who were hungry because they were persecuted and couldn't find jobs.
Our church has adopted a people group in India. The Marathi people. Sometime in the next six months, we want to send a team to India to make a DVD for our body so they can meet the Marathis and learn to love them--so a wealthy church can care for a poor one, a persecuted one. I might actually get to go. When Megan looked it up on the globe, she said, "Why don't you go to China and then you can see how everything is made."
The church is an amazing thing, really. Sometimes you wonder why we bother; other times you wonder what you would do without it. Moving to a metroplex is no easy task. We often wonder about those who do it completely alone. We were lonely, but we do have the church and we too easily take it for granted. God provides through the church.
I've been troubled lately by the famine in Africa. Do Christians ever starve to death? I mean, Paul had times where he was in hunger. Certainly Christians die in persecution. Mr. Abassi told me of some students at his seminary who had recently witnessed a beheading by their captors and began to pray they would be shot instead of beheaded. Somehow they escaped. Here's my real question: Who's responsibility is it to make sure no Christians ever starve to death? In the New Testament, it was the church. Paul collected from the wealthier churches to provide for the poor ones--the ones who were hungry because they were persecuted and couldn't find jobs.
Our church has adopted a people group in India. The Marathi people. Sometime in the next six months, we want to send a team to India to make a DVD for our body so they can meet the Marathis and learn to love them--so a wealthy church can care for a poor one, a persecuted one. I might actually get to go. When Megan looked it up on the globe, she said, "Why don't you go to China and then you can see how everything is made."
Friday, August 05, 2005
Riots of "Passage"
Wendy is doing much better...after we learned she has a kidney stone at the emergency room last night! I've never seen anything that hurts so badly--the pain honestly causes vomiting (not the stone, just the pain). She's medicated now and resting and we await the passing of the stone!
In the meantime, Wildlife is at Six Flags for the Riot of Passage--a key moment for the entry of the new seventh graders. It represents a defining moment for our students--a day when they truly become part of Wildlife. They'll spend the first half of the day (11-3) on a 150 task scavenger hunt that spans the park and pulls from multiple gifts on each team and requires the use of a backpack, a Polaroid, a calculator, a stopwatch and a flashlight! The teams allow you to keep one friend and then force you to meet and work with 6-7 other students. At supper, the winning team gets a gift bag with a $15 movie card for each member--not too shabby!
As Wendy sleeps, I'm listening to myself preach at Bent Tree last weekend. I confess that's strange, but it's valuable for me to critique and learn from the experience. If you're interested, or morbidly curious, you can listen here. I'm kind of excited about it--I get to teach again on Nov. 20!
In the meantime, Wildlife is at Six Flags for the Riot of Passage--a key moment for the entry of the new seventh graders. It represents a defining moment for our students--a day when they truly become part of Wildlife. They'll spend the first half of the day (11-3) on a 150 task scavenger hunt that spans the park and pulls from multiple gifts on each team and requires the use of a backpack, a Polaroid, a calculator, a stopwatch and a flashlight! The teams allow you to keep one friend and then force you to meet and work with 6-7 other students. At supper, the winning team gets a gift bag with a $15 movie card for each member--not too shabby!
As Wendy sleeps, I'm listening to myself preach at Bent Tree last weekend. I confess that's strange, but it's valuable for me to critique and learn from the experience. If you're interested, or morbidly curious, you can listen here. I'm kind of excited about it--I get to teach again on Nov. 20!
Friday, July 22, 2005
Deep Thoughts
Today in class, we looked at a very worshipful arrangement of a Rich Mullin's song set to video and majestic nature pictures. Then we were shown a second version using images of human suffering and devastation. We all struggled with the repeating lyric, "everywhere I go, I see you" and its reference to God being revealed in all of creation. Then it hit me...the images of death in the second video were no more fallen than the majestic vistas of the first. Why is it that we so quickly forget that all of creation is fallen and it is in that fallenness that the earth screams out for the hope of redemption. It is in that scream that He is revealed. He is present in the mountains. He is present in suffering. He is glorified by both and that's really hard for us...
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
One More Meeting!
Okay--it wasn't the academic dean, but an academic advisor, but I'm still really thankful for the prayers! We actually walked from campus to a Chinese restaurant a couple of blocks away. He was helpful and signed off of the reclassification. Tomorrow, I meet with the admissions boss (I don't know his title). It should go well, but we'll see! After that, we're all set for a ThM.
Tonight at Wildlife, we sent the 8th grade up a week early since Jonathan was here (our candidate for the senior high position and the guy who got our whole department into the blog-o-sphere). The 7th grade was great tonight. We played awhile inside and one student asked if my summer school class was because of cemetary... Then we prayed and it always breaks my heart and inspires me at the same time. There is nothing like a circle of junior high kids who will pray for each other.
We were small tonight (summer and no 8th grade) and only had about 25, but it always starts the same way. One asks for prayer for their cousin's sister's step dad but within a couple of minutes someone asks about their Dad's cancer or their friend who died or the divorce they fear is coming. It hurts my heart, but it is amazing to watch them look to God for a way through it all. Sometimes deeper conversations follow (I'll be praying for you in case you're reading this) and remind us all why we take this path of vocational ministry.
G'night.
Tonight at Wildlife, we sent the 8th grade up a week early since Jonathan was here (our candidate for the senior high position and the guy who got our whole department into the blog-o-sphere). The 7th grade was great tonight. We played awhile inside and one student asked if my summer school class was because of cemetary... Then we prayed and it always breaks my heart and inspires me at the same time. There is nothing like a circle of junior high kids who will pray for each other.
We were small tonight (summer and no 8th grade) and only had about 25, but it always starts the same way. One asks for prayer for their cousin's sister's step dad but within a couple of minutes someone asks about their Dad's cancer or their friend who died or the divorce they fear is coming. It hurts my heart, but it is amazing to watch them look to God for a way through it all. Sometimes deeper conversations follow (I'll be praying for you in case you're reading this) and remind us all why we take this path of vocational ministry.
G'night.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Short Prayer Request
I'd like to ask for a short prayer...I meet on Wednesday (12 central) with the academic dean from DTS to discuss my desire to re-classify as a ThM student (instead of the Christian Ed degree I started on). This is kind of crossing the Rubicon for us, because it commits us to at least another 4 years and it is very difficult to get on a lighter program once you're in. And, it will mean I have to start Spiritual Formation (a two-year discipleship process I can't get out of andhave to pay for!!). And, it means we're committing to move beyond the Stafford Loan we've been using up till now (runs out in 06). So, you could pray we win the lottery too--especially since I've never entered it! ;-)
Thanks ya'll--I'm nervous about this decision but we think it's the right thing. If you remove all the other concerns (like graduating at 40 and $ and time), we both believe I should pursue the full degree, languages and all. We left Tennessee with a commitment to not be controlled by fear. Please pray for clarity and unity as Wendy and I move forward and for our sustained ability to thrive as a family through all this!
Thanks ya'll--I'm nervous about this decision but we think it's the right thing. If you remove all the other concerns (like graduating at 40 and $ and time), we both believe I should pursue the full degree, languages and all. We left Tennessee with a commitment to not be controlled by fear. Please pray for clarity and unity as Wendy and I move forward and for our sustained ability to thrive as a family through all this!
Vacation Pics!
We've decided that we really like camping and we really like the beach, but we're not so sure we ever want to camp at the beach again (to quote Wendy)! However, I felt like I was on a mission trip with my own family after all these years--it was a really great week! We even found this really cool head buried in the sand... ;-)
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