Grandma Freda's Eulogy

EULOGY
Freda Ruth Peters (January 13, 1927 - September 15, 2008)
September 17, 2008 - Wichita, Kansas
by Jason Bollinger (Grandson)


I’m going to do my best to Eulogize Grandma Freda, but I don’t eulogize very often, and there’s a good chance that this will become sermon number one with sermon number two coming from J.C. in a little while.

The word Eulogy comes from the Greek word “Eulogia” which means simply to praise. While it is appropriate to come together to honor our grandmother and to praise her in one sense, it is more appropriate to give praise to God for Freda Ruth Peters. There are things in her life to be praised, and there are things in her life that cause us to praise God. We’ll start with her.

Grandma Freda endured a lot. She endured the loss of a husband prematurely to cancer. She endured being a single mom to three young daughters. She endured a fire in her home. She endured living alone for the better part of 50 years. She endured many other losses in her life. We praise her for her ability to endure.

Freda was ambitious. Her ambition often got the best of her as she was ambitious for more than what she could accomplish on her own. This caused her much grief in her life, but it is something that we all can learn from. We should be ambitious for more than what we can accomplish on our own.

She wanted the best for each us. Though that best was often at odds with the best we wanted for our life. She loved each of us and wanted us to be happy.

Grandma was creatively giving. She would give constantly. When she had money to give, she would give it. When she didn’t have money to give, she would give it. She would give to her own detriment, but her generous heart is worthy to be praised.

There are some other things in her life which I feel give us an opportunity to praise God for.

First of all, Grandma was passionate about generations. In recent years we remember Christmas cards with “Four Generations” plastered across it. There was nothing more exciting to her than being the matriarch of four generations. We praise God for this because He is a God of the generations. His will and plans are not limited to one generation, but they are formed with future generations in mind. Think of all the ministries and all the good that the generations linked to Freda Peters are a part of. We are here because of her, by marriage or by birth, we exist because of her. If it were not for her, none of us would be here, and because of her we are able to celebrate what God is doing through the generations of this family.

I praise God for the legacy that is growing from Grandma Freda. As we have just observed a changing of the guard in the matriarch position of our family, we appreciate a strong, Godly covering. We see in Susie, Grandma’s leadership, we see in Christy, Grandma’s honesty, and we see in Terie, Grandma’s prophetic-ness. We see a legacy that reflects that character of God. It excites me to know that the great grandkids, Jacob, Anna, Evie, and Ike, won’t have to struggle through some of the hard times with Grandma, they will just appreciate the family they are apart of and will recognize her as the one who God used to bring it to be. Recently Jacob asked for a new puppy. We looked at some online, and our conclusion was that we didn’t have enough money for that right now. A few days later, Jacob said, “Daddy, when we get rich, can we get a new puppy?” I asked him his plan for how we were going to get rich. His reply was, “You can get a job.” I did my best to explain to my son that I have a job, but he wasn’t buying it. Because our church meets in one place and my office is at another place, he doesn’t think that I work at the church. He knows that computers are a source of video gaming, and he’s seen me at my office “working” on my computer, and his conclusion is that I just play games. Since the kids are dismissed before I preach on Sunday, my son figured it out... I just need to get a job. After I pleaded my case and gave evidences of my employment, I asked again what his plan for getting rich was. He replied, “ Grandma Freda can give us the money.” Jacob’s experience with Grandma revolved much around envelopes with cash in it, boxes with some of his favorite things, and a trip to Walmart resulting in a new toy. Grandma Freda had provided him with monetary things he really enjoyed. Tonight, I celebrate the idea that already, the fourth generation remembers her for something we never will - money. Her legacy will be strong.

We also need to praise God for the tension that we have in our relationship with Grandma. Over the years we have suffered many misunderstandings due to this person we are honoring tonight. Many comments were made at our expense that were hurtful or confusing - at the very least misunderstood. Tension was often the result of a conversation gone bad. However, before we write the tension off as a bad thing, I just want to say that Jesus was a character who was surrounded by tension and misunderstanding. He said things like, “He who wants to find his life will lose it” “The first shall be last,” “Love those who persecute you,” etc. Grandma Freda loved those who persecuted her and often persecuted those who loved her, but this tension is not something that we should rush to resolve because this tension is something that helps us draw near to God. Donald Miller said, “I never liked Jazz music because it didn’t resolve.” We don’t need to rush to resolution when it comes to saying goodbye to Grandma, because the tension that we’ve experienced makes us appreciate her even more. More importantly, it can remind us the tension surrounding the Son of God whom we follow. We need to praise God for the tension, the misunderstandings, and the lack of resolution.

We can also praise the Lord for His sovereignty. Scripture teaches us to take both good and bad as being from the hand of the Lord, and we’ve all experienced both in our relationship with Grandma Freda. She experienced both throughout her entire life. What we need to remember is that God, in His sovereignty, brought Freda Ruth Peters into existence, as a part of His plan for each of us (and the future generations) to be a part of bringing Him glory forever and ever.

I would now like to read Psalm 145:

1 I will extol you, my God and King,
and bless your name forever and ever.
2 Every day I will bless you
and praise your name forever and ever.
3 Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised,
and his greatness is unsearchable.

4 One generation shall commend your works to another,
and shall declare your mighty acts.
5 On the glorious splendor of your majesty,
and on your wondrous works, I will meditate.
6 They shall speak of the might of your awesome deeds,
and I will declare your greatness.
7 They shall pour forth the fame of your abundant goodness
and shall sing aloud of your righteousness.

8 The Lord is gracious and merciful,
slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
9 The Lord is good to all,
and his mercy is over all that he has made.

10 All your works shall give thanks to you, O Lord,
and all your saints shall bless you!
11 They shall speak of the glory of your kingdom
and tell of your power,
12 to make known to the children of man your [2] mighty deeds,
and the glorious splendor of your kingdom.
13 Your kingdom is an everlasting kingdom,
and your dominion endures throughout all generations.

[The Lord is faithful in all his words
and kind in all his works.] [3]
14 The Lord upholds all who are falling
and raises up all who are bowed down.
15 The eyes of all look to you,
and you give them their food in due season.
16 You open your hand;
you satisfy the desire of every living thing.
17 The Lord is righteous in all his ways
and kind in all his works.
18 The Lord is near to all who call on him,
to all who call on him in truth.
19 He fulfills the desire of those who fear him;
he also hears their cry and saves them.
20 The Lord preserves all who love him,
but all the wicked he will destroy.
21 My mouth will speak the praise of the Lord,
and let all flesh bless his holy name forever and ever.

In closing, and in the spirit of praise, I would like to say something that Grandma didn’t get to say, and that is Thank You. Thank you to each of you in Wichita who sacrificed so much to take Grandma in. She wasn’t happy about not being on her own, and I’m not sure she ever made the transition, but it was the right thing to do. You guys took her in, showed tremendous love to her in very trying times. You’ve modeled something that we will hold in high esteem forever. You’ve honored her in a way that is truly reflective of the grace and mercy of our Savior. I praise God for you and for the love you showed her, and for the inspiration you’ve provided for our family. Thank you.

Prayer of Praise...

They're Back...

All of the sudden my in-town commutes have doubled in length of time, it takes twice as long to go to HEB, and the population of our town has doubled in size. While many people in our town complain and are annoyed by the presence of the Texas State Students, I'm happy to be inconvenienced.

There is an energy and excitement to this place that the summer lacks. Last night we were on campus at a shin-dig that invites campus organizations to set-up a table. We met a lot of people, and it was fun to have new faces around. Our church attendance increased by 25-30%, and there were a lot of new faces there as well. I'm so grateful to be in a place where the ebb and flow and college life have such a big influence on our ministry. We're excited about this semester, and we'll be allotting more time for our in-town activities until Christmas.

River Stone Movers Rock

In recent months, I've found myself more and more proud of being the pastor of River Stone Community Church. Time and time again, the people of River Stone step up to reach out to either help one of our own or someone in the community in need. Last night, we functioned as a moving company.

A single mom in our church accepted a new job that provides housing. So, she told Brian of her plans to hire movers to move her and her kids into their new place. He asked if I thought there was something we could to help. I committed our assistance, but at that point I had no idea who would help. I sent out an e-mail asking for help from our Overflow Group. After receiving some commitments, we found out that the day I had arranged was not feasible because the new place would not be ready. So, at the last minute, I changed the date. Quite a few of the key people I originally had in mind weren't able to make it. About 10 of us showed up to help. Our caravan consisted of 3 pickups, 2 trailers, and 3 SUV's. With the assistance of the family of 3, we moved all of their stuff out of the old house and into the new house in a little over 3 hours, and that includes 30 minutes of eating pizza. Big stuff, small stuff, boxes, odds and ends masterfully loaded (with nearly no wasted space) and transported. I am so impressed and so proud. The single mom kept asked what she should be doing, and I kept telling her to get out of the way. She didn't know what to do. I inwardly boasted about the Kingdom of God being put on display right before my eyes.

Also, when she told her realtor what was happening, she decided to make an appearance to see first hand what was going. She couldn't believe all the help this family was getting, and the single mom said she had never moved so quickly.

I know this seems like a little thing, but it really made me appreciate the heart of our church and the people God has blessed us with. I was so blessed to be able to help. I've never had so much fun moving, and I think it must have been working for the good of the Kingdom with people that I really enjoy being around.

I hope that we continue to have opportunities to consider other better than ourselves and to demonstrate the love of God to those around us. Thanks for reading. God Bless You!

California Day 2





Day 2, June 26, 2008 - Napa Valley

We got a good night’s sleep, not a long night’s sleep, but we slept well in our “green” bed that’s actually a very sterile white. We took our time getting ready and realized that the most important stop of this day would be Starbucks. We grabbed our lattes and were off to the Napa Valley. It only took us about 20 minutes to get into the heart of wine country. It was truly amazing how many vineyards there are. Big ones, small ones, fancy ones, simple ones. There are hundreds of them.

We started off in St. Helena at V. Sattui. This was also our favorite of the day. The main building of the winery was breathtaking. It was a four story building that we could have stared at all day. We had a picnic lunch in front of it after walking around and seeing everything we could see. They had an authentic Italian meat and cheese market which looked like something out of a movie. We shared an amazing, and I mean amazing Black Forest Ham Sandwich with smoked cheddar and chutney. We added a side of pesto pasta, and of course, a bunch of locally grown V. Sattui green grapes. It was all very good. The grapes really did taste different here. After that, we headed north on Highway 29 and came immediately to Sutter Home.

We weren’t expecting much at Sutter Home. The outside wasn’t near as elaborate as V. Sattui, but they had a nice house that was also an inn, but the cool stuff was reserved for inn guests only. We went through the gift shop and found the cutest little bottles of wine that we snatched up for some of our friends. We then came to the wine tasting counter, and we discovered that Sutter Home gives you samples for free. So we tasted about 8 different kinds of wine. A taste is really just a taste, not by any means a glass, and they hooked us up. They were supposed to give us a choice of 4 different kinds, but they kept asking if we would like to try all these different kinds. We learned that a reserve wine is made specifically from grapes on sight, and it is different from the wine that they ship out to the rest of the country. The reserve white zinfandel was our favorite, but we really enjoyed all of them. We browsed around the store, and headed further north. We didn’t spend as much time at any of the other places as we spent at these two.

Up the road, we went to the Behringer winery, and the Culinary Institute of America (which was a very impressive place). Holly wanted to check out some of the places that “A Walk in the Clouds” was filmed, and we found Charles Krug and Duckhorn wineries. Charles Krug was under construction, but Duckhorn was the first winery where we actually got close to grapes. We are officially enthralled with vineyards. After going to these places, we went on a hunt for the house seen in the new Parent Trap movie. Holly remembered that it was in Rutherford. So, we typed Rutherford into Gigi and she took us to what turned out to be one of the coolest stops of the day - the Rutherford Hill winery. This winery was off the beaten path, and the view was incredible. You could see the whole valley from this place. After walking around a bit, we ventured into the store and asked the gentlemen behind the counter about the house we were looking for. As it turns out, one of the guys lived on the same street as the house we were looking for. Needless to say, our directions were quite good, and we drove right up to this house which was very fun. This was Holly’s highlight today. It was a very beautiful house.

We made our way into downtown Napa around dinner time to find a place to eat. We made an attempt to eat at Copia, which is where Julia Child’s restaurant is, but we thought it a bit pricey. So, we went down the road and found a very cool street festival going on. We walked through and found a cool little Italian place called Piccolino’s. We ate Italian, and sat by the windows and watched the locals. After dinner we stopped by some of the booths and sampled peaches, dips, peanut brittle, and Greek yogurt. We purchased some kettle corn, chocolate covered strawberries, and cabernet flavored fudge. Delicious.

We came home, webcammed with Jacob and Carol for a bit, uploaded our 259 pictures, yes 259 (we did delete a couple, but not many) from the day to the computer, and dropped in the hot tub before retiring to the room - which is where we currently find ourselves. All in all a very productive, relaxing, and fun day.

We spent all day looking at grapes, and on tap for tomorrow.. more grapes. We’ve got another full day of grapes planned, but we’ll wait until tomorrow’s blog to tell you about that.

California Day 1



Day 1, June 25, 2008 - Austin/Oakland/San Francisco

After taking up the better part of three days of taking Jacob to Burleson, doing laundry, packing, and crossing things off of our work lists, we were ready to go. Our personal sky hop (Lance) picked us up just before 5pm and took us to Austin to catch our flight. We were amazed at how few people were at the airport. We breezed through checking our baggage and security. Upon checking the monitor, we found our flight to be delayed about a half hour. It actually ended up being more like 45 minutes. So, we got some tea (I had iced and Holly had chai) and some pumpkin bread and awaited our departure.

The flight was fine, but at one point, we looked at each other and said the same thing, “Do you feel like there’s a lot going on in this plane.” It seemed like we were the only ones not moving about the cabin. We read, I snoozed a bit, and we landed in Oakland about 9:45 after circling around the bay area for an added 15 minutes (probably because our plane was late). After waiting what seemed like an eternity for our baggage, we snatched it up, got on a Rental Car Shuttle, and bussed 5-10 minutes away, picked up our luxurious, light blue Kia Spectra, and were off to the hotel, which according to GPS was only about 40 minutes away.

So, we drove from Oakland (which one of the first things we passed was the A’s stadium - very cool) Northbound. We saw what we thought was the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance, but was actually the San Francisco Bay Bridge. It was huge, and thanks to not understanding what Gigi (my cell phone GPS) was telling me, I ended up on the road that took us to the bridge. It was a $4 toll to go across, but we were stuck. It was beautiful, and we ventured just a bit into San Fran before we turned around and got to drive back over the bridge, but on the bottom of it this time. We got some cool pics, and I’m lucky to still have my sight after all the flash bulbs Holly instigated. Anyway, we were back on track after that, and it was only about 45 minutes to our hotel which is at the “Gateway” of Napa.

We checked in right at midnight. Our hotel is new and boasts in being a “Green Hotel”. They have monitors displaying their energy consumption at all times. It’s pretty cool. There was a bit of confusion when we checked in because we paid for a King room with a “Lagoon View”, but we didn’t get one, and they didn’t have any available. So, we’re stuck with a plain King room - which is still quite nice and big, but not what we expected - which seems to happen to us on every trip we take. Oh, well. It was disappointing, but not the end of the world. Apparently, elevators are not green because there’s not one that we can find. After lugging our stuff up the stairs we arrived at room 245 (The Nighthawk Room), and to our surprise, Lance and Christina had ordered a bottle of Sparkling Wine for our anniversary. It was sitting on or table, chilling in a bucket of ice with two wine glasses and a card that read “Happy Anniversary from the Yarbough Family”. It was a great surprise! We dropped our stuff and went to Walmart (which is like 30 seconds away) to grab a couple of things we needed and some sandwiches b/c we were starving. After scouting out some of the vineyards Holly wants to go to, we got to bed around 2 local time which felt like 4am because of the time change. But I must admit, the king-size “green” bed and comfy pillows were mighty inviting after a long journey to Cali.

National Doughnut Day


In case you didn't know, a couple of Fridays ago was National Doughnut (or Donut) day. One of the highlights in my life of the past couple of years is regular donut dates with my boy, Jacob. If it were up to him, we would go every day. On my days off, or a lot of Saturdays, we try to let Mommy sleep in and we head to Shipley's for donut goodness. Jacob rotates between cherry, strawberry, and chocolate (all with sprinkles). My staple is the jalapeno sausage and cheese kolache. Jacob always likes to sit on the barstools (unavailable on Doughnut Day due to high traffic). On the barstools, we sit, spin, talk about life, look at the pictures in the newspaper, talk about what new movies he wants to see and usually run into someone we know. On this particular day, we wondered why there was a line to the door. It was the first Friday of summer for San Marcos students, and we thought it might be that was cause for doughnut celebration. So, I consulted the Blackberry browser and discovered we were a part of a worldwide event. In many places, the doughnut places were giving money to charity on doughnut day, but not ours - anyway - I digress...

The point, my friends is this... I could care less about doughnut day or most other holidays for that matter (especially those created by Hallmark and other marketing geniuses who make me feel guilty for not giving cards on random days throughout the year), but Jacob doesn't miss an opportunity to celebrate. When we found out, I think his reaction went something like this, "TODAY IS DOUGHNUT DAY?!?!? DADDY, THAT'S AWESOME! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S DOUGHNUT DAY! I CAN'T WAIT TO TELL MOMMY WHEN WE GET HOME! I WISH EVERY DAY WAS DOUGHNUT DAY!" It's the same excitement I see when I come home. The same excitement about going to a movie, going to a friends house to play Wii, meeting new people, getting to go outside to play with Aaron, Ashley, and Bianca. Do you know that when we pull into our driveway, Jacob's neck is turned 180 degrees looking to see if the neighbors' garage doors are open (which means his friends are outside)? I know I'm going to have to change the name of my blog to what I learn about my faith through my son, but that kid loves life. He loves people. He loves to be with people he loves. He knows how to make people feel special. He doesn't see skin color (except when he referred to Cooper as a blackneck when I made a redneck joke in reference to Cooper's Nascar shade in Yarbough truck), doesn't care about age, doesn't care about differences, he just knows how to celebrate what God's put in his world. Whether it's doughnuts, Kung Fu Panda, Grandparents, friends across the street or at church, someone coming over, etc. I have a lot to learn about excitement, joy, and love from him.

Isn't it supposed to be me teaching him?

Moving On


Last week Brian and I had the distinct honor of clearing out the storage facility we've had for the past year and a half. When we moved from our first location in the shopping center to the square, we had a lot of junk to store. In our best efforts to cut costs, we decided to get rid of the storage and get rid of some stuff, sell some stuff, and put the rest in places that don't cost money. While we were in the zone of cleaning stuff out, we decided that it was time to take down the River Stone sign that had flown high in the Crestwood Shopping Center for the past three years. This task has been on our list for the past year and a half. We kind of liked people just thinking that we were a multi-site church. In the first two pictures you can see Brian and John hanging the sign. I remember being so proud of that sign and letting the world know where we were. It was a strange feeling cutting it down and watching it descend to the ground.

The day ended up being a rather spiritual experience. We laid our eyes on things we didn't remember we had. Certain things reminded us of certain people who are no longer here, and that was sad. We remembered, reminisced, and re-evaluated whether or not we needed some of this stuff. It didn't take long to see how different our church is now. We have no use for most of the stuff we packed away a year and a half ago. We also had no use for a sign flying above a place we no longer meet in. It was a day to remember where we've come from, but more importantly it was a day to celebrate where we are and where we're going. There was a feeling of liberation - everything we were holding on to is now gone. Our chains are gone. We are free from the things that were holding us back, and we're focused on what's ahead and what we need in order to get where we're going. It was clear that the time to move on is now. While we never want to forget where we've come from, we also don't want to cling to the junk in storage or the sign keeping us focused on a season passed.

A new day has dawned, the old is gone and the new has come. I hope that we continue to clean out the closets of everything keeping us from moving on after the Holy Spirit and His plan for our church.

Before you came home...


For the past couple of months I've been walking 4-5 mornings a week. I walk for 35-40 minutes, and I've used the time to get caught up on various sermons that I can never seem to find time to listen to during the day. As Holly and I have turned a corner of healthier living (now that we're both post 30), this has become a very enjoyable part of most of my days. Jacob is usually still asleep when I leave, and only a few times has he been awake when I walk in the door. A couple of other times he's been sitting on the porch with Shelby (the dog) waiting for me to get back.

Today, I was about halfway through my route deep into my sermon of choice when I noticed a little kid that looked a lot like my son walking toward me. Not only did it look like him, it was him. Three blocks away from our house (including a couple of turns), Jacob was walking down the sidewalk in his Old Navy Pajama pants - no shoes, no shirt, three blocks from home. I was shocked, stunned, furious, confused, relieved, and curious. I asked Jacob what he was doing. He said, "I just wanted to find you." I asked him how he knew where I was, and he proceeded to tell me my route (which he apparently memorized the one time he went with me on his scooter). I went on to say all of the fatherly things about how dangerous it was that he walked that far by himself, how he needed shoes and a shirt if he was going to walk that far, blah, blah, blah... Then I asked him why he didn't just wait for me to get home. I reminded him and reassured him that Daddy always comes home. He listened, thought about it, and replied, "I just wanted to see you before you came home."

I've notice a lot lately that I'm learning a lot from my son. I'm enjoying this stage more than any others as he's dialogging so honestly and thoroughly about life, God, friends, baseball, basketball, Mom & Dad, and so much more. As I was carrying him home this morning, I thought about how so many Christians live their physical lives content to wait for the day when their Father comes home. What if we went hard after our Father because we can't wait for Him to come home. We want Him now. We want to follow him now and be with him now. What if we had that type of urgency to go where God the Father is - where He's walking and moving. Jacob was so confident that he knew where I was. He had no doubt we would be where I was. He was so caught up in the moment of finding me that he didn't make any plans, didn't put on shoes or a shirt, he just went for it. It's not small thing that scripture teaches us to have the faith of a child. What if we didn't sit around waiting for Jesus to come back and went out where we know He's walking and join Him, walk with Him, let Him carry us home, all the while just being excited that we are with Him and becoming like Him.

It was a beautiful thing, it really was.

Something to Say...


Last Thursday, Brian and I were blessed by a friend of ours with tickets to go and sit under the teaching of John Eldredge who's written a new book entitled, "Walking with God." It was a great time, and it was very refreshing. The event was in The Woodlands, and I took the excuse of going to Houston as an opportunity to take some pianos the church has accumulated to my Dad for repair and to later sell. I dropped the pianos off and had lunch with my Dad. He had an appointment so I headed to the Woodlands for some needed time of study. I landed at a couple of different places over the next several hours. My final spot was a Starbucks (which didn't exist according to my GPS).

I ordered my skinny cinnamon latte and took out my bible and notebook. I sat down at the only available table in the place which was uncomfortably close to a couple who looked to be in their mid 50's. At first glance I didn't think anything odd about the couple, but within moments it was clear there was a problem. This couple was in the middle of a huge argument, and it was an argument that had to do with whether or not they should stay together. I am a compulsive eavesdropper, and I was hearing everything they were saying (as was the table furthest away from them due to the volume of this man). I heard him drop God's name and God's will. I heard him attack her level of faith. I heard him validate his job and insult hers. I heard him take credit for things and blame her for things. I heard him place the weight of their conflict on his broken wife. I sat there and felt very strongly that the Lord brought me to this location for this event. I was trying to find two other Starbucks listed on my GPS which apparently didn't, and I was on my way to another one two miles down the road. Then, I saw this one. Could it be a coincidence that I was here for just a time as this. Two Christians struggling in their marriage, talking openly and honestly, even mentioning maybe they need to talk to a pastor. I thought to myself, "It's good that I'm here." I listened and waited for my opportunity to approach this couple, but I didn't feel it. I tried really hard to focus on the section of Scripture that I was reading from my Life Journal. I searched intently for the "Word from the Lord" from these passages that would solve these peoples' marital problems. I prayed, I waited, I listened, I studied, and I looked for the right time to intervene. To the pleasure of most of the other people studying and reading, the couple decided to head outside. I knew they weren't leaving, and I was still confident my moment would come. As they fought outside, I stared. The wife knew I was staring. I knew she knew that I had something to say. I knew she was needing someone to stand up for her. I very badly wanted to be the guy, but as I prayed for something to say, I had nothing. Very rarely am I a person with nothing to say. I begged God for something to say. I was here. I was available. I had some time before it was time to meet Brian for dinner. I packed up my stuff and awaited my opportunity to speak truth in love. Then, my boldness turned into hesitance. My excitement turned to sadness. My zeal, to brokenness. I had nothing for these people. I couldn't come up with anything to say. I was trusting God, I was listening, I was available, and I had nothing. The couple walked off, and all I could do was pray for them in my heart.

My struggle is this. If this was someone in my church, I can guarantee there would've been no shortage of words. If this would've been my friends, I would've had plenty to say. When my parents marriage was falling apart and my Mom was really having hard times, I had a lot to say. But, in that Starbucks in the Woodlands, I had nothing to say. Even a few days later, I don't know what I was supposed to do. Maybe I was just supposed to pray. Maybe I was supposed to trust God more and just talk to them trusting that the Holy Spirit would fill my mouth with the right words like the apostles in Acts. All I've got is maybes.

In the end, though, I'm being confronted with evidence that this world needs the Gospel. It can't only work in the pulpit in church. It has to work in Starbucks in the Woodlands. It has to work in San Marcos on the Tball fields. It has to work in our homes with our families, hanging out with our friends, and in the streets with our neighbors. Again, I wish I was enlightened by some supernatural revelation, but I can't say that I was. I don't feel guilty about what happened, but I don't feel good either. I don't know what this means for you, but for me it means to be better prepared to speak on behalf of the Gospel whenever the Lord arranges for it to happen. It also means to be more aware of the power of prayer. I've prayed for that couple every day since. My heart still hurts for the pain and anguish. I don't know their names, but God does, and I am thankful for another opportunity to trust Him in a new way. Hopefully, next time I'll have something to say...

Jacob's Rush


Lately I've found myself really enjoying my son. That's not to say that I didn't before, but it seems that overnight he's become this little man I can hold conversations with who asks about a question per second. These questions are mostly random with at least one an hour presenting me with some theological issue that I can't really answer. There may be future blogs about some of those questions, and there may be future blogs about the roller coaster experience that is our new found T-ball phase of life, but this one is about something different. Thanks for reading on...

A couple of weeks ago, our family (which again includes Ashley who's living with us), sat down to watch August Rush. This is a beautiful movie about a young boy with an extraordinary gift for music. He hears music in the wind, where he lives, in the city, etc. Orchestrations come to him with ease, and the movie includes his discovery of his abilities. I won't spoil it for you, but you should definitely rent it or put it on your Netflix list. After the movie, as the credits were rolling, and the movie score was playing, Jacob went and sat down at the piano. He was listening very intently to the music from the movie, and he began to play along. When I say play along, I mean that he played along. I'm not saying that he played what he heard note for note, but he played along. His ear kept him in the right key and he played sometimes with the melody and sometimes he was making harmony, but it was all right. It all fit. When he would accidentally hit a note that didn't work, he quickly changed it. Holly, Ashley, and I exchanged dumbfounded looks and could say nothing. It really was one of the most beautiful things we've ever seen. I had to shake my head and attempt to withhold tears.

As we've been studying Galatians, I find myself more and more free from sin, guilt, fear, and death, and more importantly I find myself strangely sensitive to the Gospel. It's interesting to me how much we try to control our Christian experience through discipline and routine. I think it's more appropriate for us to realize that God created and set this world into motion. It could not continue without his constant involvement and supervision of everything. We are dependent upon him for everything. His Spirit moves in us and speaks to us - all around us He is giving us opportunity to be His ambassadors, to live for His glory. The music is around us, the Gospel has been preached and is being preached in movies, in the streets, in our homes, at our jobs, at our schools, in coffee shops - everywhere. What if we just played along to the music that God is playing in the background? What if we realized when we stepped out of tune or hit a note in the wrong key and we quickly found ourselves back in sync with the score? It reminds me again of John 3-4 where Jesus encounters the woman at the well and Nicodemus and He says that following the Spirit is like the wind. It blows wherever it pleases. It goes where God wants it to go. What if we surrendered control of our spiritual lives and let the wind blow us and find our part in the greater musical score that is being played? What if followers of Christ were able to sync up with their Holy Spirit Rush? Jacob didn't make an announcement. He didn't read a book. He didn't ask permission. He heard the music, sat down, and played along. The music was much bigger than him. He didn't try to take it over. he didn't think he was making better. He just played along and contributed what he could. He played a part, and it was genuinely one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.

I hope that we can discern the song the Spirit is playing all around us and play with Him, play in tune, play in rhythm, play an appropriate part, play like He's the conductor and we're the musicians, play like He's the Creator and we're the created, play with our hearts with our ears listening closely for where the Song is going and for what's coming next.

Thank you, Jesus for your Gospel that reveals itself everywhere.

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.