My Cousin, the Doctor - on MIssion!

There is nobody in my life that I am more proud of than my cousin, Chase. That's not to say that I'm not equally as proud of other family and friends, but I digress. Chase is a medical doctor who is currently in the second year of his residency in Waco. Chase has always felt as though medicine was a means by which he has an opportunity to serve the Kingdom. Chase and his lovely wife, Jenny, are both passionate about Spanish speaking mission opportunities, and they have served on both short and long term mission trips. Recently, they were given the opportunity to travel as a family to Ecuador, and they followed the call of God there for the month of March. I woke up Sunday to the following e-mail from Jenny. If you are led by the Spirit, I would love for you to join me in praying for their time away this month. Please read on...

We're here!  We arrived in Quito, Ecuador last night a little after 10pm, and made it to the guest house at 11pm or so.  Chase and Anna are still sleeping, but Evie gets up early no matter where she is  :) 

We're excited to see what God has in store for us during our month here.  As many of you in ministry may know, Satan can come at you HARD as you prepare to leave, and we have felt it.  I've shed many tears this week.  Chase hasn't slept much.  Anna is going to make it, and Evie is alive!  Here's a quick run-down of our last week or so...

Last Thursday Chase gets the flu.  He's not able to complete a shift of call at the hospital, and had to make it up Monday instead.  This set him back big time and he worked late every night of the week trying to get all of his charts and paperwork done before we left.  He slept about 5 hours Thursday night, and 3 hours Friday night.

My heart has been doing funny things a lot this month, and last week it became ridiculous.  Several times throughout the day I either had an irregular heart beat, or my heart would race at 150 beats per minute for 10-15 minutes at a time!  Wednesday it was racing almost constantly, and when Chase got home we went back to the clinic and he hooked me up to the EKG machine.  We caught some pretty crazy rhythms on paper, which is a praise because I've never been able to catch it.  A doctor there said it was not life-threatening, and that I wasn't going to drop of a heart attack.  This was enough for me.  We prayed against it that night and it was almost gone the rest of the week.  :)   Praise God!

Thursday morning I took off with the girls to do some last-minute Wal-Mart shopping, and Evie fell out of the cart.  Yes, she fell.  She was on top, and in a moment she was on her back on the floor.  Anna and I hit the floor, gathered her up, and I asked Anna to put a hand on her head while we prayed.  I cried out to Jesus in desperation as I watched the back of her head become red.  Several employees heard the crying and came to help out (a lot of excitement for Wal-Mart at 9am).  I asked a man for ice, but by the time the ice pack was ready the redness on Evie's head was GONE!  She was calm and playful.  In minutes.  There is no swelling, no redness, no bruise... she's gotten bruises on her head from crawling and running into furniture, but no bruise from falling 3 feet onto a cement floor.  PRAISE GOD!  Only the power of Jesus can explain something like that.  I'm SO thankful she's alive and well.  We went to the clinic to make sure all was okay.

BUT it was only a few hours before she developed a fever!  GOOD GRIEF!  So Friday we went to the clinic AGAIN to get her checked out AGAIN.  Her urine was clear (PRAISE GOD!) and her ears were clear - just a virus or the flu that daddy had a few days earlier.  She was hot until middle of yesterday, and seems great this morning.  She's eating animal crackers in my lap as I type.

Okay, so the last straw... Any of you that know Anna know that the thing she loves most in the world is her stuffed bunny rabbit.  In the terminal yesterday, about an hour before we boarded for Quito, rabbit went missing.  She was playing in a small area, just under the chairs in the waiting area, but he was gone.  Just like that.  Several people there with us helped us look, but we never found him.  This, honestly, is as much as a mystery to me as Evie's healing.  There's no where he could have gone!  And there were no other kids around that would have taken him!  So, we boarded the plane without him.  I think I've mourned him more than Anna, which is good.  And she went to sleep just fine without him last night, which is a huge praise!  But I feel like this huge part of her childhood is gone forever.  I'm tearing up as I type.  Anna's first spanish word was conejo! 

So we are thankful to be here.  Satan has played DIRTY this week, and I've seen for the first time how kids can suffer for Jesus.  But Jesus is worth it!  I learned a lot yesterday with the loss of Rabbit.  Jesus said to give up everything and follow him, and there were few things more valuable to us than that stuffed animal.  Can we really do it?  Can we really be willing to lose everything for the cause of Christ?  I'm crying again, all sacrifice and loss is so painful, but Jesus is the pearl of greatest price and we'd be fools to hold on to anything but him.

We are humbled, we are wounded, and God is already helping us to answer the questions we're seeking this month - could we do this?  Really?  Do we have what it takes to give it all up and live in a foreign place far from family, friends, and the comforts of home? 

Please pray for us this month!  Here are some key requests:- That we would be open to all the Lord wants to teach us, and that we would hear his voice as we seek him. - The health of our family, especially the girls- Chase's work in the hospital, and his ability to communicate in Spanish- That we would be BOLD in sharing God's love with others.  I got to talk to a lady on the plane!  Yay!

Thanks all.  Please pass this on to anyone whose address I didn't include.  We'll get a better list together as the days go on.

We love you! 

Jenny, Chase, Susanna, & Evelyn

Chief of Sinners (and chapstick)

As I've been studying Galatians, I'm more and more aware of my status as a sinner in need of a Savior. At our first River Stone on Campus, I introduced myself as the Chief of Sinners at River Stone Community Church. I said it partly to get a laugh, but partly out of reality. Our church is a church full of sinners, and I'm the lead sinner. For example...

This week I was making a grocery run. The line I was in was moving slowly (fyi - if the line wasn't moving slowly before, it would've diminished in speed the moment I stepped into it - it's a gift I have) and got long fast. When I was the next up for check-out, the manager waved me over to the register next to where I was. I backed up my cart, headed for the register and noticed in this motion that I forgot to get Chap Stick that my lips were screaming for. I grabbed the Chap Stick and proceeded to unload my groceries onto the conveyor belt (does anybody remember when you just pulled your cart up to the register and the checker unloaded your basket for you? - I digress.). I paid for my groceries and went home. After I unpacked them, I proceeded to empty out my pockets, and what did I find in my pocket but the un-paid-for tube of Chap Stick. That's right. I stole it. My heart sank. Immediately my flesh and the Spirit began to wrestle. "It's only 95 cents, and they've probably over charged you that much before", or "you've spent so much money there they owe it to you", or "God must've wanted you to have that Chap Stick." The Spirit quickly won and I was convicted to pay for the Chap Stick. I couldn't go right them, but the next time I went to the store, I had the guy scan a Chap Stick and then I put it back on the shelf. I then explained to him that I stole a tube a couple of days ago, and I'm not real sure what response I was expecting, but the one I got was, "Oh yeah, man that happened to me before." I was in good company.

Needless to say, I didn't think twice about accidentally swiping that Chap Stick, and I know you're saying, "A whole blog about a 95 cent tube of Chap Stick, really?" However, it made me more aware of my sinful nature. That one 95 cent sin is enough to eternally separate me from God. It was enough to invoke the full wrath of God on my life... if I didn't have a Savior who already paid for my sins with his blood. I'm so thankful to be a child of grace. It should've been me hanging on that tree, but Jesus took my place. He extended to me Good News... on my own, I'm a sinner in need of a Savior, and there's nothing I can do to save myself. God rescued me from my sin, my guilt, my fear, and my shame. It was a complete rescue that covers my stupidity and incidentals. I'm covered, I'm forgiven, and I'm free. It's a good thing, too, because despite my best efforts to stop, I keep sinning.

I'm just thankful, I guess, that God loves me enough to not only save me from death, sin, evil, and hell, but also from myself. After a whole lifetime of following Christ, I'm still a sinner in need of the Gospel. A tube of Chap Stick helped me remember that.

Pavarotti - Nessun Dorma

http://youtube.com/v/ONUCPKdGcrk

So, sometimes Holly and i let the Ipod play when we're going to bed - especially if we find ourselves unusually stressed. Holly has compiled this playlist of "soothing" music. It's a diverse blend of various artists of different genres, and it has proved to be somewhat easy for me to fall asleep to. However, at some point, she added this song to it. It was somewhere in the middle of about 45 minutes worth of music. I began to notice that I wasn't sleeping well for a couple of weeks. Normally, I'm asleep about the time my head hits the pillow these days, but for some reason restlessness became the norm. In the midst of these period, I was having nightmares - bad ones. I would wake up angry or scared or nervous in the middle of the night. I was hearing strange noises. I was so annoyed at my recent inability to rest well.

I told Holly that the Pavarotti song had to go. She protested and kindly and lovingly told me that I was crazy and defended the beauty and integrity of the music. I endured it for a bit longer, and reiterated my inability to sleep to this music. She obliged and I removed the song. Later, I decided to investigate why these Italian lyrics brought so much unrest to my soul. Come to find out, the title in English is "No One Sleeps". So much made sense.

Needless to say, ever since, sleep has not been interrupted by the aforementioned playlist.

There is probably spiritual significance related to this that allows me to pursue the fullness of God, but I'll let you draw your own conclusions...

Pain.

It's been far too long between blogs (as usual), and I'm sad to say that this expression is more about my need to express rather than my desire to share.

The events of the past three weeks have been the worst of my life, and this is my first attempt to unpack it. It will in all reality be too long for a blog, but I'm going for it anyway. Here goes...

Holly and I lost a baby last week. We found out the Monday before Thanksgiving that she was pregnant, but immediately the doctor was concerned about an ectopic (tubal) pregnancy. There is no definitive way to determine whether or not the baby is ok until an ultrasound can be done which is around the 4-6 week mark. In other words, all we could do was wait. It was so hard. We so badly wanted to celebrate the miracle of conception, but we tried to keep ourselves grounded in the reality that we may never see this baby. As the weeks progressed, no news seemed to be good news. Holly's symptoms were becoming less like an ectopic and more like a normal pregnancy. Her pregnancy hormone level was on the rise like it should be and all was well. We knew we weren't in the clear yet, but we felt God preparing our miracle. Finally, the doctor gave us a glimmer of hope, stating that she felt as though this was a normal pregnancy. However, when she called the next day, the report was that the hormone level had gone down. Which is medical speak for, "your baby is dead." They asked us to come in the next day just to be sure. During this, our church was praying, but I had no idea what to ask them to pray for. Pray for a miracle? Perhaps. My mustard seed faith has no issue believing that God can raise the dead. That's all he does is change the old for new. That certainly would've been easy for him to pull off in Holly's womb. However, sometimes the Lord gives and the Lord takes away. For three weeks we lived in the uncertainty of these two extremes. We wanted to rejoice for the miracle, but we were content to trust God in the valley of the shadow of death. We were preparing ourselves for both, but as the news was getting better, our hopes were rising. With e-mails of prayer and support, we were trusting God, with testimonies of visions/dreams, we trusted even more. It sure did seem like God was going to use this for his glory. It was the next chapter in the River Stone Miracles storybook. We trusted God even after the phone call of bad news. We were praying for a miracle, and so were many of you. The much anticipated follow-up phone call reported that the pregnancy hormone level had gone down significantly. The report was that this was not a viable pregnancy and that we could expect the physical symptoms of miscarriage over the weekend. They were right.

I've never thought lightly of miscarriages. Reports of them from friends and family have always sparked emotions of sadness and brokenness. What I didn't anticipate was the pain in the pit of my stomach. In Biblical times, they would say that the center of their emotions was not their heart, but their bowels. I understood why. Immediately I was nauseous. Immediately, my entire body ached. Immediately we were walking through the valley of the shadow of death. We got the phone call at about 11am, and I had a lunch appointment at 12:00 that was 20 minutes away. Holly and I talked about the news we'd received and expressed our disappointment and contentment. We understood that though this was incredibly difficult, it was still sovereign. We actually do believe that all things do work together for good for those who are called according to His purpose. We didn't doubt God's plan for our lives, and we weren't even angry with God. We just began to feel for the first time in three weeks, and instead of anticipation and joy of another child, we felt the loss of one. I managed to get 10 minutes up the road before my tears hindered my ability to see beyond the windshield. I knew this was a possibility. I knew this could've happened. I tried to prepare myself for this, but it was to no avail. As I was driving, I thought for the first time, "So this is what pain is." I rarely listen to Christian radio, but it was on in the car, and I heard God speaking to me. The songs on the radio were mostly River Stone worship staples, and one that I didn't particularly like when I heard it before. However, the lyric included, "I don't pretend to know the pain you're going through... but there's a light at the end of the tunnel." In my pain, God was there. It was interesting though, because even though I knew He was there, He wasn't making me feel any better. I went on to have lunch and encourage one of my friends whose wife cheated on him. It was not my favorite afternoon. After lunch, I went back home. On the way, more songs, more of God's presence, more tears, and more pain.

It was an uncomfortable place to be in. My job is to pray. My job is to tell other people how to pray. My job is to intercede and be strong and rejoice with those who rejoice and grieve with those who grieve. In recent months, we've stared death and ferocious tumors in the face and called on the name of the Lord and came out victorious, but in my own life, a crushing defeat was given. The prayers of many answered with a resounding, "No." My job is to comfort those in pain, but I had no comfort to offer myself.

The leaders of our church are going through a process of pruning. We've always felt like that it's more important to have a church that's Kingdom minded than a church that is it's own Kingdom. We don't self-promote. We don't boast about ourselves. We don't pretend like we're a big deal when we're not. We simply want to be used by God to usher His Kingdom in to San Marcos as it is in heaven. We want to be major players in the Kingdom more than we want book deals and for people to come to our conference. Our desire is fruit, and I'm not talking only about a room full of people. I'm talking about fruit. Fruit that will last. Fruit that will taste good to our community. The problem is that pruning is an important part of the fruit process. I wish I was on the other side seeing that the pain was necessary for the blessing that was to come. I think I'm even trusting God for that, but I simply can't see past the pain.

A friend of mine suggested that perhaps the Lord is displeased with us, and I began to consider the option. However, a few days later, I feel like it's not really about that, it's about character. It's about the glory of God in the pain and suffering. It's about testing. It's about seeing what we're made of. The weight of the past few months has truly been enough to consider quitting and going and getting a job at a big church where at least I'm getting paid well if there's any suffering. But, as we've talked through some of this, I think that we're going to come out stronger. I think that no weapon formed against us shall prosper. I think we're going to stand against the schemes and plans of the evil one. I think we're going to learn to pray more consistently, more efficiently, and more effectively. I think we're going to experience miracles. I think we're going to experience an outpouring of prayer and intercession. I think we're going to see the Kingdom. I don't understand why pain, loss, and suffering are necessary for experiencing the fullness of God. I don't understand, but that's what I read in the Epistles. We are never closer to God than when we suffer, according to Scripture. So, here's the struggle. I've never been closer to God, but I've never felt further away. Could it be that following Christ is not about feeling good about anything, but seeing very clearly that I truly need Him to help me take another breath because I don't necessarily feel like taking it right now? Could it be that following Christ is actually letting go and seeing that He won't? I've experienced a difference in speaking things that I know are true, and crying out those same things in desperation. For example, I've always been moved by the lyrics from Matt Redman's "You Never Let Go," but Sunday I had to sing them as my only hope. Or should I say scream them through the tears, because I'm pretty sure that notes were not what was coming out of my mouth. Pain was coming out. Raw emotion. Noise that wasn't joyful, but sorrowful. For the first 10 minutes of Brian's message, I was in the back of our facility, in the dark, with my head down, crying. For what? I don't even know. Just because it hurts.

So, right now, I'm trying to rejoice in our sufferings, but I don't feel very happy. I'm trusting God for healing, but I don't feel very healed. I'm praying to God that He would somehow get glory for this in our lives and church, but I don't know how. More importantly, I'm trying to get through one more day despite the ache in my soul from losing my unborn child. However, if there were no death, then life would mean very little, and recently I'm comforted by my Great High Priest who actually gave Himself up to be killed so that others could live. I'm reminded of the words that I preached from Joseph - what was meant for evil, God uses for salvation. We're never closer to Christ than when we're suffering. I wish I knew how. I wish I could feel it. I wish it made sense, but here I find myself at a place that all I can do is trust God to get me through the end of a day.

I think the only moral at this point is to be careful what you preach. God in his grace will make sure that you are given an opportunity to see if you're full of crap or not. I wonder if that's why so many preachers preach such an easy Gospel. I know I preach a hard Gospel - hard even for me to have to live up to it. So hard that it cost me something... maybe even everything. So hard, that I have to talk to my son about the goodness of God in a tragic situation. So hard, that I've had to depend on those close to me to help me make decisions that I can normally make with no problem. It's hard to follow Christ. It would be easier to quit, but then death couldn't be used for life. It's hard enough for friends to be there even though they don't know what to say. Hard enough for the simplest of hugs to have a profound impact on my life (thank you, Jessica). Hard enough for me to ask if it's even worth it. Hard enough to make it difficult to get out of bed in the morning. It's hard. I'm grateful for a hard Gospel. I'm grateful to have to live it out. I'm grateful that the relationships we've poured into for the past three years have poured back into us. I'm grateful for the strength of our extended families and the e-mail from cousins that have had profound impacts. I'm grateful for the phone calls. I'm grateful that I know this burden is being shared among a lot of people. I'm grateful for elders to hold my arms up when I can't hold them up anymore. I'm grateful for God's grace that I don't have to preach during this season. I'm grateful that in empathizing with my wife's pain that I've never loved her more. I'm grateful for the extra time I've been able to spend with my son. I'm thankful for how bad he wants a baby sister. I'm glad that in the mean time he gets to share Caleb's. I'm grateful that the joy of the Lord being my strength doesn't mean I have to feel happy. I'm grateful that we're worthy of a test, and I pray that our faithfulness will lead to be trusted with more. I pray that our church would experience revival and anointing. I pray for the next person who's going to have to suffer.

Anyway, I realize that these thoughts are random and all over the place. I realize that there's no resolution to my struggles, and I'm ok with that for right now. I'm trusting God for today - tomorrow's got enough trouble of it's own. I'm trusting God for daily bread. I'll eat the manna. I'll live with the pain, and I'll hope for the fruit to come quickly from the pruning.

So, thanks for taking the time to walk with us through this. Thanks for reading even though I don't really have anything to say. Hopefully soon, some clarity will come, and the Kingdom will come in San Marcos as it is in heaven. God Bless.

Hold The Peanut Butter

This morning I learned something from my son. We were getting ready this morning, and I was making his sandwich. I asked him the usual, meat (or meap would be more accurate) and cheese or PB&J? This morning he asked for Peanut Butter and Jelly. I got the necessary items from the fridge, laid out the bread, grabbed the knife, and Jacob yelled, "wait!". I couldn't imagine that I had done something wrong already, but he wouldn't let me finish. He went on to tell me that I couldn't put peanut butter on his sandwich because one of his classmates was allergic to it.

I was impressed with his desire to put his friend's needs before his own. Jacob insisted that I make his sandwich without peanut butter. Jelly only on his sandwich today. I offered to make a meat and cheese, but he chose jelly only. I thought it was a beautiful picture of missional living. He chose to live like his friend had to live. He could've chosen something different, something better, but he chose to do without.

If we could learn to live with an awareness of the limitations that others have to live with, we would be a lot more like Jesus. If we were more aware of poverty, starvation, disease, we would be noticing the things that Jesus noticed. If we could learn to do without and think about how what we're entitled to could possible affect other people, we would be closer to the heart of God. I hope that I can learn to hold the peanut butter in many different ways.

Rebuilding Ruined Places

"Then the nations that are left all around you shall know that I am the Lord; I have rebuilt ruined places and replanted that which was desolate. I am the Lord; I have spoken, and I will do it. Thus says the Lord God; 'this also I will let the house of Israel ask me to do for them: to increase their people like a flock.'" Ezekiel 36:36-37

Recently I've really begin to feel like these verses are paramount for not only us, but for all the Bible believing churches in our city. Historically, church plants have a very rough go of it in San Marcos. All businesses for that matter have a rough go of it from trying to survive the permitting and building process to a wide demographic of people- this is a tough place to do church, to do campus ministry, and to have a business. However, it seems like things are changing.

We live in what is probably the oldest inhabited part of the country. There were people here before any other place in the country. That's a lot of history to overcome. When the heyday of your town was in the 1800's, you know things are different. However, though San Marcos has a reputation for people leaving and schools that are having a tough time keeping students in them, somehow God has called us to be here. Not only us, but actually quite a few church plants in the past 10 years. Could it be that something is going to be changing? I hope so. I believe so.

When I look at this passage, I feel that this has become a desolate place, but that God is going to rebuild it. That which has been desolate is going to be fruitful. Flocks that are small are going to be large. However, it is only the Lord God who can accomplish this. Our best efforts are merely efforts, our greatest strengths are laughable, but the power of God is able to do the impossible. Nothing is impossible with God.

So, let's pray these verses together for our city, for our churches, but more importantly for the Kingdom of God.

Finally...a nap...

We recently made a big decision to move our worship services from Sunday evenings to Sunday mornings. I've been against this decision for a long time, but as it turns out, I'm a big fan.

For the past three years Sundays have turned into 12-13 hour work days for me. I would get up, immediately fine tune all the details for church, but it would literally take all day. Knowing that I had Sunday as a work day was really nice. However, what I didn't realize was how exhausting it was to work all day and then preach or lead worship.

Additionally, Sabbath rest has been a hard thing to come by. It's real easy to justify that certain meetings are really important, or that a certain video has to get done. It's easy to prioritize meeting with and helping people to the detriment of preparing for Sundays - which pushes preparation to times that would otherwise be Sabbath. Here at the three year mark of the church, one word best describes how I feel. Tired.

What I didn't see coming was that Sunday mornings would give us the opportunity for rest. Today for the first time in over three years, I took a Sunday afternoon nap. While watching the Astros, cuddled up with my sick 5 year old, with my wife on the other side of him reading a book - all in our bed, I noticed something - we were resting. Resting to the point of relaxing and relaxing to the point of falling asleep even when I didn't think I was tired.

I don't know why I'm surprised that the Lord always takes care of us and has given us great opportunities to rest. I'm grateful that we stumbled on to something that we've needed for three years.

Marble Madness (a scary story)

Today, I got an unpleasant phone call from Holly this afternoon saying that while she was in the other room, she heard Jacob cough a couple of times and then start crying. Once he calmed down, he told her that he had put a marble in his mouth that ended up slipping into the back of his throat where he had to cough it up. Needless to say, it freaked him out. He has a bruise on his throat from where he grabbed it when he began to choke. Holly called the doctor, and they wanted to check him out just to be safe. They said that he's fine.

It scares me as a parent to realize that despite our best efforts to keep a close watch on our son, we are ultimately unable to completely protect him. I didn't even know he had any of those magnetic marbles in his toy arsenal (which we have now found out are recalled b/c kids have died as a result of playing with them).

In the past couple of days, when I was praying for Jacob, I was extremely compelled to pray for his protection. One of the last things I did before I left for the office today was to pray specifically for Jacob's protection. When I told Holly this, she said she had felt the same thing recently. She had been praying the same things. I'm not saying that our prayers saved his life, but I can't say they didn't. What I do know is that our best attempts to protect our son pale in comparison to God's ability to protect His creation. God protected my son today, and I'm reminded how great He is, how gracious, and how faithful.

Thank You, Jesus.

Hot Pursuit

Holly, Jake, and I have now been away from home for seven days, and we have three more to go. I wish I could say that it's been a restful and relaxing time. It all started with a meeting in Dallas last Thursday that was hosted by the Acts 29 church planting network. It was a seminar on leadership taught by a seminary professor. While it was very helpful and informative, it felt like seminary, and I left wiped out. The next day we went to Tulsa, OK to move my grandmother and all of her stuff to my aunt and uncle's house in Wichita, KS. That took all day Friday and Saturday. We spent Sunday and Monday with family - which was great, but wasn't so great on sleep patterns. We came back to Burleson for the rest of the week where we were going to celebrate our anniversary and hang out until I have to do a wedding in Dallas this weekend. We got in at midnight on Monday night and didn't get a whole lot of sleep. Tuesday night we got a call at 11:15pm that Holly's grandfather had fallen in the bathroom and was not responsive. We rushed over there and then to the Emergency Room until 2:30am. He had suffered an ischemic stroke. He's still in the hospital, and they're trying to determine the best plan for treatment. Needless to say, no sleep was to be had that night either. The next day was our anniversary, but we were so tired that we didn't feel like doing anything. How pathetic is that? On top of that Holly's been under the weather - probably from all of the dust and dirt from my Grandma's house. Anyway, we got some sleep last night - finally, and we're looking forward to this trip being over. Now for the fun part...

On Tuesday afternoon, I set off for some errands I had to run and to find the local coffee shop so I could get some work done. On the way, I dropped off my suit to be cleaned for the wedding. When I was waiting to pull out on to the feeder road, I witnessed the car next to me pull out into a far lane and hit a truck. The car was a 1970's town car which was absolutely massive. It hit a F-150 and knocked it clear off the road. The huge car backed off the road back into the parking lot, and I figured that he was just getting out of the way of traffic, but then I noticed that he didn't stop. I saw him start to turn around, and that's when I felt compelled to do my duty to dance upon injustice. It was pouring down rain, and this guy took off through the parking lot, dodging traffic, trying to escape. I tailed him. While I was hopping curbs, dodging cars and trying not to hydroplane, I got on the phone with 911. I told them what had happened and where I was and where it looked like he was going. I was tailing him from a distance and there was a dead end where I didn't know which way he went. I ended up going the wrong way, but I told them that he must've gone the other way, and by the time I turned around, they had him pulled over. Justice was served.

Needless to say, it's fun to get to play cops and robbers or cowboys and indians. It brought a little adrenaline and excitement to an otherwise taxing trip.

Off-guard in Orlando

Brian and I attended the National New Church Conference in Orlando, Florida this week, and it was an amazing time. It was the largest gathering of church planters ever with around 1,700 church planters in attendance. It's truly amazing how church planting has developed. When we started 2 1/2 years ago, there were only a fraction of the resources available that there are today.

We attended some great sessions, and we were humbled and challenged by what God spoke to us while we were away. It was a very timely conference for us.

On to the off-guard... They had two pastors present via video. It wasn't live video, it was a video presentation of some of their thoughts and opinions about church planting. There were multiple videos of Tim Keller from Redeemer Church in New York and one of Mark Driscoll from Mars Hill Church in Seattle. Driscoll's video was about calling out the men and equipping the men. It was somewhat abrasive, but right on. Those familiar with Driscoll know how he feels about men being men and how important it is for church planters to be real men - love their families, live lives of integrity, be good fathers and husbands, be strong, etc. However, he does not say all these things at the expense of women. He is a complimentarian who belives that women can fill every role in the church except Pastor/Elder. He didn't say that women can't serve. He didn't say women weren't gifted to minister. He didn't say anything to demean women, he was just talking to the men.

Bill Hybels was the speaker that followed Driscoll's video. The first thing he did after everyone finished giving him a standing ovation was to say this, "Well, after that 8-minute video, I'd like to set the record straight." So, right off the bat, he was obviously annoyed at the length and content of the video. He went on to say something to the effect of women being a valuable part of church planting, women have gifts to offer, etc. This caught me off-guard for a couple of reasons. It wasn't Hybel's place to complain about the length or the content of the video. To me, it was disrespectful to the hosts of the conference and to Mark Driscoll. It's fine if he disagrees, but his response was uncalled for. He assumed that he knew Driscoll's position, and his comments were in response to a position that Driscoll doesn't even stand for. It was hugely disappointing and awkward. Hybels hadn't even been there for any other parts of the conference - so he had no idea what the heart of the teachings had been. He went on to talk about whatever he wanted and not what the theme of the conference was. Don't get me wrong, I have a ton of respect for him, and I was even convicted by the things that he shared. I just was caught off-guard by his attitude and words right off the bat. We had been learning about not demeaning people who think differently than us. We had been learning about spending quality time with the Lord in order to be able to build into people and the church, and the first few minutes of Hybel's talk was contradictory to the very heart of what we've been learning.

So, I'll also confess that I'm a big Driscoll fan. I'll also confess that I think he occasionally may fall of the razor's edge of tact. I'm really not taking a side because I can understand why someone who thinks differently would have a differing opinion, but I think I expect more from someone of Hybel's stature. Actually, I'm sure I do. It would be different if Driscoll said these things at Willow Creek - at Bill's church where he's the Daddy Elder, but this was in a neutral site - not his place.

So, I hope that what we learn from this is that it's ok to disagree with each other, but we should disagree in a spirit of grace and love. We should disagree face to face and not criticize someone who's not even there. We should still act like we love and respect those we might even consider our enemies. I'm grateful for a friend of mine who disagreed with me last week. He called, took me to lunch, and told me that he disagreed. We talked, we discussed, we're still friends. I think we still don't totally agree, but that's secondary.

I hope that when I have opportunities to disagree that I will have the courage to disagree like a Godly man, in a way that builds the Kingdom, in a way that stands on unity and not division, in a way that would cause others to stumble.

Anyway, there I was off-guard in Orlando.

PS - this video is now available to be seen online @ http://www.theresurgence.com/md_blog_2007-04-28_banned_church_planting_video

Diversity & Cascarones

One of the things we've preached the entire tenure of River Stone is the importance of diversity. They say that Sunday mornings are the most segregated time of the week. In church planting classes, they teach you to target a specific demographic, and they call it the homogeneous theory. It's easier to go after one type of person. The fastest growing churches in America are evidence of this - people of largely the same race, socio-economic status, and lifestyle. While it's hard to be critical of anyone reaching a specific group of people with the Good News of Jesus, it seems that this is not necessarily the way Jesus built his Church. Phrases like "every tribe and tongue"and "neither Greek nor Jew" stick out to me. I remember Jesus talking to the Samaritan woman at the well - a race detested by the Jews. I remember the story of the Good Samaritan - one that is all to real in our day and time. We have a tendency to stick with our own and to hang out with people who are like us and validate our particular style of life. Churches sometimes remedy the homogeneous theory by reaching out to different neighborhoods and starting mission churches to reach those different from them. Again, it's hard to be critical, but is that really what heaven's going to look like? Though every tribe and tongue will be represented, will we have different sections for every race? Will we look down our noses at the people who are different than us? Will we take credit for ministering to those less fortunate even though we paid somebody else to do the work or we spent a week in a particular place? Or, follow me here, should every church have all types of people every week?

We are not a big church, and if you evaluate us strictly on a numerical scale, we're not that successful of a church, but I love this place. I love our church because of Cascarones. We had a wonderful Easter Celebration this year, and it was a wonderful time of celebrating babies, families, life, and most importantly the Risen Savior, Jesus. We had a packed house, and the Spirit was so wonderful among our people, and then it happened. A Cascarones fight broke out. Cascarones are dyed eggs that have been gutted and replaced with confetti. They are a Mexican Easter tradition, and kids from our church assaulted each other and us with their confetti eggs. We were planning a traditional Easter Egg Hunt after church, but the super cold weather interrupted those plans. So, our spontaneous celebration with Cascarones replaced it, and it made me appreciate the diversity in our church. As I've walked down the sidewalk in front of the facility where our church meets, and I still see the confetti spread all over it, I'm thankful that I even know what Cascarones are. Last year, I had no idea. I'm thankful that our church is not made up of people like me. We are people of different tribes, different tongues, different status, different places in our faith, we're just different, and that's what I love about us.

So, our church would probably be bigger if it was homogeneous, but if I have a choice, I'll continue to choose smaller and more diverse. May God continue to bring us people not like us. To Him be the glory in every tribe and tongue.

Bobcat Build Weather

Just a quick note to say thank you so much for praying. The storms came through Friday night and made way for a beautiful today. Yesterday, they were saying a 75% of heavy rain today, but it was not to be. God is good, and prepared a wonderful day for the Kingdom work to go on. Thank you, Jesus.

The Kingdom Come

I'm back. I have no excuse for my lapse between blogs, and I won't waste your time with a bunch of excuses as to why... so I'll just for for it.

Included in The Lord's Prayer are these very powerful words, "May your Kingdom Come." Since we started River Stone, one of our most fervent prayers has been for the Kingdom to come in our town. We want the blessings of God to rain down on our community. We pray for it to be a safer place, we pray for the schools to continue to improve, we pray that people would be compelled to live here, we pray that we would take the Gospel to the people through our actions and attitudes and not expect the people to come to us, we pray that God would use us to demonstrate His love and His Kingdom to our community. As a result, we're always looking for ways to be involved in this type of thing. Read on...

A few months ago at breakfast with the mayor (the mayor usually invites clergy to a breakfast once a month, but it sounds important, doesn't it?), she requested that someone from the ministers group volunteer on the volunteer committee for something called "Bobcat Build." I was very familiar with the event. It is a one day community service day where college students volunteer to serve their community. They recruit job-sites that need paint, fixing up, cleaning up, clearing out, etc. They spend an entire Saturday doing this. The college kids have kind of a bad reputation in town because they drive crazy, listen to loud music, party a lot, and make the lines at HEB and Walmart really long. Many people in the town don't talk favorably about the college students. So, how do they repay those who think that way about them? They serve them. They go to the homes of the poor, the needy, and the places that reach out to the poor and the needy. They call all the churches to see if they need any work done. This year, over 2,500 college students will work at over 100 job-sites. They're working to building bridges with the community. They're working to make their community a better place. They're blessing those who persecute them. It's truly one of the most beautiful things in a community that I've ever seen, and I've been honored to serve as a part of the planning team (I was the only minister who signed up, in case you were wondering. And, I don't say that to toot my horn, I just think is disappointing). Moving on...

Here's the revelatory paragraph that you've been waiting for. As we've been praying for the churches to work together to bring the Kingdom to San Marcos, the people who are actually doing it are the college students. I've never seen 2,500 Christians assemble in our area to perform acts of love and kindness just because it's the right thing to do. The churches are the ones being served by the college students -most of which don't even go to church (random fact - only about 1,000 of the 28,000 college students at Texas State go to church). My heart breaks that a secular (even though I don't believe in sacred vs. secular - everything that God made is good) institution of learning has a greater perspective on the Kingdom coming than the churches. I pray that the Church can exist for something more than trying to get people in the doors, and I pray that we would learn that we have a message to take to the people, and that message is love and humility by service.

Thank you, Bobcat Build for living out something the church has been teaching for years. May we learn to do the same. May there come a day where the university learns from the churches because of the tremendous examples of love they are to their community...instead of it working the other way around.

If you're reading this before March 31st. Please pray for favorable weather for the Bobcat Build work day. The coordinators of this event asked me to pray for it, and I would like to ask you to do the same. Thank you.

The Good and the Bad

Because I wait entirely too long to post my blogs, I kind of have a lot to say. So, roll with me on this.

Being a pastor is a crazy thing. I love my job. I love Jesus. I love helping others connect with Jesus. I love preaching. I love leading worship. I love doing life with the people God has surrounded me with to do life with. However, in the past few months, I feel more hurt than ever in the midst of the most joy I've ever had. I know, it's strange. As with everything else, it's a Paradox.

I feel an overwhelming call to simple honesty. I'm supposed to speak truth in love according to Scripture. We've been talking a lot recently about helping each other define true reality. Here's the reality that I've come to. Many people are faking it. I'm wearied. Have you ever walked through a spider web at night and found yourself trying to recover without looking stupid? That's kind of what I feel like. Over the past few months, people that I've invested hours, days, even years in have turned out to be something they're not. Because of what I do, people tell me what they think I want to hear (and that's how great they're doing ... if you were wondering). They tell me how great I am, how much they love the church, how much they want to help. Then, with no explanation, they're gone and won't return your phone calls and e-mails. A former co-worker of mine (a minister) filed for divorce this week because it turns out they were having an affair. Another friend has been lying about what they've been smoking for the past year and a half. These are all people that I've been close to. These are people I consider friends. These are people I consider followers of Christ. The reality is you can't follow Christ and act like this. You can't. It's impossible. As we follow Christ, we are transformed into His image. We become more like Him. Blowing smoke, pretending it, faking it is not what following Christ is about. I feel like I should be able to see passed it, call the bluff, expose the man behind the curtain, but in the past I've not wanted to think wrongly of people. Even though all the signs were there, I didn't want to believe these things about people that I love. The trouble is now, more problems have been sown into their life because of their pretending. It hurts my hearts, hurts my feelings, and makes me not want to give anyone else the benefit of the doubt.

So, my plea for everyone who claims the name of Christ ... stop pretending. Stop faking it. Stop trying to make people like you by saying that you're following Christ. You can't live a double life and be His follower. You can't receive grace until you're honest about the places in your life that you need that grace the most. It covers the darkest depths of your soul, and you have to confess it. Stop lying to pastors about how great everything is when the reality is that you're not really committed. Stop faking it, and get real.

That was the bad first, in case you wondering. Now, for the good.

Last night Holly put on a birthday party for me. My real birthday is the day after Christmas (the big 31 this year), but most everyone is scattered for the holidays, and Holly wanted to get everyone together before that happened. It was an "everything Jason" which makes me totally uncomfortable because I don't like to draw that kind of attention to myself. I don't like being the center of attention, and I'm not very good at receiving. However, she put together my favorite foods, gave me an Astros cake, put on one of my favorite movies, did a funny Jason quiz, and invited my favorite people. It was really great. While I've felt more burned than ever in my life, I also feel more blessed than ever because of the true friends that God has given me. It was a joy to be in a place where I could love and be loved without the expectation of anything in return, without pretending. I have never had such a strong group of friends - friends who know everything about me and who love me anyway (and vice versa), friends who know what gifts I'll really enjoy, friends who were excited about doing the things that I like to do for a night. It was really great. I also have to say how great it is to have my wife as my best friend who knows what I need more than I do myself.

So, close, honest, loving in spite of our weaknesses friends are the Good. Pretending, faking, and lying is the Bad. Thank you, Jesus for both because the good is made better because of the bad.

"Shaken"

What a roller coaster of emotions the past few weeks have been. My good friend, Thomas Escalon, was raised from the dead (it's a long story if you don't know it). A month later he survived a quintuple bypass heart surgery and is recovering at a rapid rate - it's nothing short of miraculous. God is seeming to put the power of prayer on display in our lives. He brings us to the point of death - twice in the same month - and miracles happened both times. Why are miracles so surprising. Does Scripture not say that the same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead lives in us. The same Spirit. Not some western-civilization, modern version of the same Spirit. Not some weak, dumbed-down, tame version. The same Spirit. Miracles should be more common. I'm so grateful that God chose to put that on display to us as a church this month. He's teaching us to pray, He's showing us that He's got this thing. He's drawing us closer and closer to Him, but He has to shake us up to do it. Thank you for the shaking.

For another story on shakes... Yesterday, on my day off, the fam and I journeyed northward to Round Rock for the opening of the new IKEA store. Actually, it opened on Wendesday, but we figured we would miss some crowds on Thursday. So we found our way through the circus of cars, parking attendants, and parking lots. We parked in an overflow parking lot across the street. As we were stepping into the street, I looked down to grab Jacob's hand. In that instant I stepped into a drainage gutter and twisted my ankle in two different directions other than what it was created to twist in. Spraining my ankles has become a hobby of mine beginning in college, but this was by far the most pain I've ever felt in my ankle - maybe the most pain period. I hopped around, yelled at my wife (she was the closest person and I had to yell at someone!), and somehow managed to prevent both expletives and tears from coming out.

I wasn't about to drive all that way and not experience IKEA, so I did with much pain as I hobbled arround the ginormous store. It lived up to they hype. I love that place and wish I had a lot more money to spend there. Afterward, traffic was horrible, so we stopped and watched a movie. During the flick, I propped my foot up - yes on the seat in front of me, I know it's against the rules, but I was in a lot of pain. Anyway, we stopped for a bite to eat at Fudrucker's (still waiting for the traffic to die down). We had just begun to eat when they announced that someone's Strawberry Shake was ready. For those of you who don't know, it is my opinion that a Strawberry Shake is one of the finest experiences in this life (especially if it's from Annie's on South Post Oak in Houston). Anyway, I told Holly that I thought that maybe my own Strawberry Shake would make my ankle feel better. Jacob quickly chimed in that he thought it would heal the scratch on his face. We were in agreement. Now, I have to confess that it was a plea more than a prayer, but before I could really work my case, the manager came up with a beautifully crafted Strawberry Shake in his hand and said, "I accidentally made an extra one of these, would you guys like to have it?" Yes we would, and yes we did. It was a beautiful thing, and my ankle did begin to feel better for a few minutes.

Maybe the lesson is something about how the lows and hard times make the good things even better. I'm thankful for the Strawberry Shake, but I'm more thankful for life and breath. Consider me shaken by the provision of my Father.

Deceived

I can't believe it's been a month since I jotted anything down. Anyway, on with the thought...

Last night we continued our teaching through 1 Corinthians 3 (available for download at www.river-stone.org), and the focus was on what destroys the church. The most profound thing I can't stop thinking about from this is how deceived we really are.

Anyone who's watched and of the audtion episodes of American Idol has witnessed self-deception at it's finest. Loads and loads of people who obviously have no talent, really think they can sing. They think the judges are wrong. They think millions of viewers are wrong. They completely ignore what is a black and white reality in lieu of their opinion of themselves.

The reality is that our opinion of ourselves can not be trusted. We deceive ourselves. What we see in the mirror isn't what other people see. How we think of ourselves is not how other people think of ourselves. We often think we're better or worse than we really are. We define our own reality based on our perceptions, and that's a flaw of our humanity. We need to surround ourselves with others who help us see more clearly who we are. Our friends see us for who we really are - for the good and bad. Accountability is what we need to more accurately see who we really are.

I often times consider myself to be fairly self-aware. I know what I'm good at, I know what I'm bad at, I know what I can pull off and appear to be good at. However, at any moment, I could find myself thinking more highly of myself than I ought. I could find myself not having people in my life that help keep my reality defined. I could believe what I want regardless of what everyone else says. I could very easily find myself deceived.

We need to be aware that we are deceived people in need of honest friends to walk with us in our journey of faith in order to keep us more in tune with the reality of Jesus. Only when we look at ourselves through his eyes do we see as we ought to see. May we be honest with ourselves and surround ourselves with godly people who love us enough to help us determine who we really are.

If you're certain that you're not deceived, you are. If you know you're deceived, then you're in the best place for discovering reality. Regardless of how you see yourself, this week you should ask someone you trust for an honest evaluation of who you really are. Does anybody remember "The Emperor's New Clothes"? Wouldn't you rather know? Ask someone. You don't have to be deceived.

Musicians

I found a new take on musicians this week in Scripture that I'd like to share. We all know there are a million different styles of music, and we also know that music is powerful enough to split churches, separate close friends, bring people togehter, create emotion, and on and on. At River Stone, we don't believe in sacred and secular, and over the past few years we have covered plenty of songs that wouldn't be considered "Christian." We based that on Acts 17. When Paul preached on Mars Hill, he quoted poets of that time. Well, today, musicians are the modern day poets. In lyrics of mainstream music, you find the heart of mainstream culture. In mainstream culture you find people who need Jesus. Our job is to help people connect the dots that show them Jesus. Music is a very powerful tool. So, that's what we already know.

Now, you may be wondering what Louis Armstrong has to do with this, and the answer is nothing. He's just a great musician whose picture I came across. Ok - here's the new stuff. In 1 Chronicles, David is preparing for his death and departure. He's filling all the positions to fnish what he started. The main task at hand is the construction of God's temple which was going to be the task of his son, Solomon. Now, to give him a headstart, he's appointing people to do everything related to the building of the temple. One of the areas he's preparing for is the music. He appoints musicians. In this time, musicians were very important. Even in armies, the band would go out front. They would motivte the men in battle, they would lead the charge. They understood the power of music. Now, what I learned goes even further than that. It says that David and the chiefs set apart some guys who prophesied with lyres, with harps, and with cymbals. I never thought of that really. I've run across plenty of artists who have a prophetic flare - Derek Webb, Keith Green, Delirious, Johnny Cash, Bono for example, but I never knew that was part of the assignment for temple musicians.

As I think about church music, I'm often saddened by how good it makes you feel and how little it challenges you in your faith. Today we gravitate towards the songs we like and discard what we don't like. It sounds a lot like the prophets in the OT. God told Isaiah - these people aren't going to listen to what you have to say. Think about music you don't like. Could it be the voice of God presenting something to you that forces you more into honesty that blind happiness. What if church musicians were more of a mindset of delivering the message God wants - even if that means most people are not going to listen? After all, don't we write songs in such a way that the most important thing is for people to listen - to have a shot at airplay.

I wonder if the most important things we need to hear are what we don't automatically like. I wonder if the musical prophets of our day aren't on the radio. I wonder what church music would be like if their intent was to prophesy. I wonder if anyone's going to listen anyway.

Breakfast with Martin

Today is a day I've been looking forward to for a very long time. Norman told us that he would try to arrange a time for us to meet Martin if he was in town. Needless to say, his tour schedule is always a challenge to work around. I really tried not to get my hopes up. Even until Thursday, I was anticipating a cancellation - after all he is famous and very busy. There's a lot of expectation that goes into meeting one of your heroes, and sometimes we hold them at a level they can't possible live up to. Well, I'm happy to say that Martin Smith is a hero that met every expectation.

For those of you who aren't sure who Martin is, he is the lead singer of Delirious. He has penned, what are in my opinion, the best worship songs ever written (I Could Sing of Your Love, Shout to the North, Deeper, Did You Feel the Mountains Tremble, My Glorious, Majesty, Rain Down, etc.). I spent an hour and a half with him this morning (he only committed to an hour, but stayed longer) over pancakes and coffee. Ok - now for the rest ...

This man is humble, respectful, wise, polite, a deep thinker, discerning, and a lot of other great words that I could put here. We talked about worship, about the church, about the band, about his family, about our church, about missions, and much more. He initiated questions about our home, church, and family, and he followed up with questions that let you know he really cared about us. He spoke profound words about worship and the church, and he used many of the buzzwords we use - especially "doing life together". Ever since we started River Stone, it's been refreshing to find people who are like-minded who give credibility to what we do and how we do it. I never thought that Martin Smith would be one of those people. The things that are important to us are important to him. Many of my soapbox issues were things he's passionate about. I couldn't believe how great our time together was. The tragedy was we had to kick him out because of plans that we had previously made. Time with Martin cut short. But, we were invited to his father-in-law's birthday party (who happens to be the pastor of the church here), and we found out "the band", as they're referred to here, will be leading worship on Sunday at Arun. They haven't led here since July, and these days it is a rare occasion. The Lord has smiled upon us and blessed us more than we ever could've imagined. He has confirmed every step of this trip, and it's been amazing. Did I mention that Steven Curtis Chapman will be at church on Sunday? We will be the only other Americans in the place.

I know that I've rambled on and haven't made the most sense, but I'm really excited about what the Lord is doing in our relationship with Arun Community Church. Every few months I get very weighed down by the weight of ministry, and times such as this are invaluable to my own personal rejuvenation and refreshment. Please continue to pray that God would continue to reveal himself and how this relationship is supposed to manifest itself in the future of my life and River Stone's ministries.

On a personal note, pray for us as we travel to London on Sunday night to spend the night. This will be our only chance to see London. We will be traveling by train from the Southern Coast of England to Victoria Station. We will spend one night at the cheapest hotel we could find and return back to Norman and Grace's Monday evening before we get up super early on Tuesday to fly home. The unnerving thing is that we will be touring London on 9/11, and with the recent terrorist activity in the city, it is easy to feel anxious. However, we know that we won't necessarily have many other opportunities to see the city. Pray also for us as we begin to be aware that we've been away for Jake for 5 days. We miss him, and he's getting over some congestion in his chest. Also, pray for Grace. She's struggling with polymyalgia. It is a disease of the nerve endings that causes her a lot of pain. You would never know she had it, but she is in a lot of pain. Norman and Grace are fasting breakfast and lunch every Wednesday - trusting God for her healing. We were able to stand alongside of them in that this week, and I got to pray over Grace for her healing. What a blessing it was. I wanted to share that in case you would like to fast and pray for her. Also, we are suffering from jet lag, but haven't really had time to be affected by it. We've been sleeping just fine (in spite of no A/C), but are overwhelmed by sleepiness a few times a day.

So, that's probably it for now. There is more to tell than I can tell. There are more thoughts to unpack that I haven't even begun to process. I could go home today completely enriched and refreshed, but we've got 4 more days. Tomorrow, we're going to a medieval castle and to the pastor's birthday party. Sunday, we'll go to church in the morning and to London in the evening. Monday, we'll see as much of London as we can see. Tuesday, we leave Norman and Grace's at 6am to catch our plane. We're excited about the rest of our trip, and we are trusting that God has plenty more for us.

We love you and miss you guys very much. We hope you're having a great week!

Made It

Well, Holly and I made it to the UK. The 9+ hour flight was not so bad. We only slept a few hours and arrived here at 9:45am. We've already walked up and down the seashore in Rustington where Norman and Grace live. We've celebrated their 42nd wedding anniversary, and we've planned out the rest of our week. It's hard to believe that we're in another country, but it's truly great to see what God has planned for us.

Please continue to pray for us. Tomorrow could be very difficult in the jetlag department. Also, pray for Jacob. We had to leave him sick in the care of his Nanny, Pawpaw and Grandma. It's hard for us to be away from him while he's not feeling well.

That's all for now.

Blessings ...

jason

My Shepherdess

This title makes a lot more sense if you were at River Stone Sunday night. We're studying Genesis and when Jacob first sees Rachel, he sees her with sheep - something he's totally in to. Driscoll says it's like finding a woman who owns her own bass boat. Sunday I added like a woman who bungee jumps or rides motorcycles or climbs rocks, etc. The point of all this is that I had one of those moments with my bride long before she was my bride. I fully intended to talk about it Sunday night, but brain cramped it out. So, here it is.

When I met Holly, she was (and still very much is) this beautiful, intelligent, clean cut, prim and proper, small town girl. I knew I was attracted to her, but I was still checking out to see what all we had in common to see if this was going anywhere. After all, she was from the town where not only does every guy drive an old piece of crap pick up truck, but most are (or were) decked out with certain features of a cow's anatomy hanging from the spare tire area (I'm not unpacking it if you're missing it). She seemed different from the rest of the town, but I was unsure.

I was a total wanabee Christian rocker (if there is such a thing). The "Jesus Freak" album from DC Talk was new, and I was a big fan. At the time I drove a 1985 K-5 GMC Jimmy with 32.5" tires. It was large and so was the sound system. The most expensive Sony CD player you could buy in 1996 that fed some big fancy amp that pushed two 15" Kickers. I liked my music loud, I liked to sing along, I liked to bob my head to the beat, I was a huge dork. However, I thought that I was bad. My friends at the time were not bold enough to confront my posing - maybe because they were too ... maybe. Anyway, on the way home from our first date which was not a real date b/c it was a set-up, I decided to conduct a little test to see how this small town goody goody would react to a little rock-n-roll. Up with the DC Talk. To my surprise she knew every word to my favorite songs. She sang - loud - and really good by the way (not a surprise to anyone who hears her belt it out every week at church). Not only that, but that every so carefully brushed hair was soon flying back and forth as she banged her head. She says this is the moment when I fell in love with her, and I'm not sure about that ... BUT ... it was the moment that I was confident that this relationship was going places.

It may sound pretty insignificant, but when I saw that, I connected with my shepherdess. Our first real date was a few weeks later. You guessed it ... DC Talk concert under the stars at the Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavilion. It was as romantic as DC Talk music could be, and we had a great time. 7 months later we were engaged. A year and a half after that we were married. And to borrow from the romanticism of my forefather Jacob, I can honestly say that 10 years of working and doing life together seem like only a few days. I thank God for reminding me of this innocent time in our relationship where everything was new and I was more concerned with uncovering the mystery and godliness of this wonderful person than I was of my own selfish desires.

What God orderes he pays for, and He ordered me a prim and proper, clean cut, small town, rocker that was exactly what I needed to motivate me to become the man He created me to be.

That's all for now. Blessings to you.