Shane Alexander

God as Object vs. God as Person (or Three, If You Prefer)

2010-09-17T11:00:00.003-05:00

Too much God-talk speaks of God as though he were a mere object. By that, I mean we describe him by personifying him. We say he is good. We say he is all-powerful. We say he is love. We use human attributes to describe him as though he were an object (which is the way I understand personification). Sure, we think he is infinitely good, infinitely powerful, and infinitely love, but these are still human ways of describing him.

We don't (or at least shouldn't) do this to persons. I get irritated when I attend a funeral and the only thing they say about a person is that she was loyal, hard-working, and nurturing. That doesn't tell me anything except for the fact that the person preaching the funeral didn't know the person he/she is eulogizing.

We don't have to personify persons. They are already persons. Persons aren't made by mixing together a cocktail of attributes in varying degrees. Persons are made by their stories.

When I meet a person, I don't get to know him better by trying to decide how honest or loyal he is. Even if I knew that, I wouldn't know the man. The only way to get to know a person is to listen to the story that made them the person they are.

This is why I find job interviews to be so frustrating. I never leave them feeling as though I have given them a true sense of who I am. Whether I get hired or not, I would like the prospective employer to make an informed decision rooted in who I am as a person (granted, this matters more for my job than some others, but I think the point still stands). This does not mean that personal attributes irrelevant. It just means that personal attributes outside the context of a person's story are irrelevant.

Our Bible does not play this game. You might want to say, "Hey, John says 'God is love.'" You would be correct. But John is saying that within the context of God's story, not in place of it. If you asked how God is love, John would not have started droning on about the attributes of love and the need for a source of infinite love that explains the presence of the finite pieces of love we observe in our world. He'd have said, "Let me tell you a story." And he might pick any number of stories. Knowing John, that story would culminate in the ultimate story of God's own self-sacrifice: the cross. But he would pick a story.

This is why I get a little grumpy about most of the songs we sing in church. God is holy. God is love. God is worthy of our praise. God is my friend. God is good. All this is true and I am all for singing about it. But it is irrelevant without the context of a story. If we are going to sing that God is holy, then tell me a story that defines the kind of holy that God is. If we are going to sing that God is good, then tell me a story that shows how God was good in the distant past (Scripture) and (please!) a story about how God has been good in the recent past (read: good to us). [And let's be discerning about what good things we are going to attribute to God in our recent past. I may be as glad as you are that you got a promotion at work or that your biopsy came back negative, but I want my praise to be rooted in what he is doing in and through you as you live out your calling to follow Jesus.] There are a few songs that do this quite well. "In Christ Alone" is a little heavy on penal substitution (a theory of atonement that is a topic for another day) for my taste, but at least it tells the story in which its praise of God in Christ is rooted. Thank you, Gettys, for that. Most songs don't do it at all. And I am not necessarily suggesting we chunk them (at least not all of them, although I admit there are a few I could get behind chunking). But should we not at least find another means to tell a story that provides the context for what we are singing about?

Having said all of that, I have noticed that I am as guilty of personifying God as anyone. Elizabeth asked me some questions about God the other day. I started personifying because it is what we do. Somehow (and it wasn't through trial and error), we have decided this kind of thing is helpful. I noticed her eyes were starting to glaze over (the same way they do when I find myself trying to explain why God doesn't have any parents) and I caught myself. I tried the Biblical approach to questions like hers and I said, "Let me tell you a story."

Stories she can do.

She can do stories because Elizabeth, as young as she is, is a person. And even a child knows that stories are the only way you can get to know a person.

Strangers in the Night

2010-09-16T10:11:00.002-05:00

The strangers of whom I speak are Jesus and Nicodemus. They were not exchanging glances in anticipation of romance, but they were ex-changing ideas. For Nicodemus, these ideas were taxing his abilities of comprehension. Rebirth. Water and Spirit. Flesh is flesh. Spirit is spirit. Wind. Every time the stranger added another wrinkle, he seemed even stranger.

Contrast. When it comes to Jesus, few of us would consider ourselves strangers. Perhaps he is someone we have know all of our lives. Perhaps he is someone we are just coming to know. But he is not a stranger. And while it's most famous to say that familiarity breeds contempt (something that doesn't fit here), familiarity also stifles mystery (which certainly does fit here).

Whether it's the rush of infatuation that occurs whenever strangers in the night are exchanging glances or the fact that few things can be as invigorating as a new and blossoming friendship, there is something about the mystery of the unknown that provides a powerful source of energy. This is not to say that this energy can only be tapped at the beginning of a relationship, but that it can only be tapped when people are still in the process of getting to know one another.

Great marriages aren't made by people who have completely learned all they need to learn about their spouses. Great marriages are made by people who still get a thrill from getting to know someone at a deeper and deeper level as their relationship matures and the seasons of life change. The same can be said of friendships. And the same can be said for our relationship to Jesus as well.

If we strip Jesus of all of his strange-ness, if we allow ourselves to pretend that we already know all there is to know him, then we shouldn't be surprised when the initial thrill of knowing him fades. If, however, we are willing to admit that we still (and will always have) a lot more about Jesus to learn, then we can continue to be energized by the mystery of what we have yet to discover.

Nicodemus may have been confused. But he was the kind of confused that led him to ask difficult questions. He was the kind of confused that kept him up in the middle of the night conversing with a stranger. He had that sense that there was something more about this Jesus than some of his fellow Pharisees were seeing. So Nicodemus did what we do when we are energized by what we want to discover about someone else. He spent time with Jesus. He talked with him. He asked questions. He listened.

I don't get the impression that Nicodemus left that nighttime meeting with a clear under-standing of what Jesus told him. But the words stuck with him. After Jesus death, he was one of the disciples who prepared Jesus' body for burial. What did he understand by then? I am guessing that as he came to know Jesus better, this conversation made more sense. I am also guessing that there were still things he wondered about. And I would guess that the mystery propelled him forward.

The alternative is a dangerous one. The moment that Nicodemus decided that he had Jesus pegged would have been the moment where Nicodemus' relationship with Jesus ran out of gas. Cannot the same be true about our marriages? our most meaningful friendships?

I am curious. By what means do you keep the energy source of mystery alive in your relationship to Jesus? to your spouse? to your friends?

When You Pray

2010-09-03T10:15:00.003-05:00

There are many who have yet to take part in the life of a local church because they have never been exposed to one. There are more, at least in my estimation, in our community, however, who have been exposed to a local church--and they did not like what they saw. Something stuck out to them as inconsistent, pointless, self-aggrandizing or hypocritical. They came, they saw, and they said, "No thanks."

No group is immune to outside criticism. But there is another kind of criticism. Inside criticism comes from insiders who have a stake in the very group they are criticizing. While some insiders criticize their group with as little intention of being a part of the solution as outsiders do, most insiders offer their criticisms in hope of affecting positive change. It is in that vein that we should hear Jesus instructions on prayer:

"And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you" (Mt 6:5-6).

Did you catch it? He didn't just tell them how to pray. He told them how not to pray. They were not to pray like the folks they have seen praying at the synagogue. But Jesus wasn't suggesting that prayer was preposterous. He was trying to root out some of the things that were making public prayer seem pointless and self-aggrandizing.

What stands out is that I could easily picture an outsider (someone who had no interest in prayer whatsoever) making the same critiques of those who commonly prayed in public. Yet, if such an outsider was trying to make the case that prayer was nothing but hollow claptrap, those same criticisms would take on another character completely. What makes Jesus' instructions on prayer so meaningful, and I would add durable, is that Jesus' criticisms serve as correctives to help us get the most out of something he believed to be a beautiful and powerful thing: prayer. That doesn't mean that everyone received his criticism in a favorable light. They didn't. That doesn't mean that everything changed just because he made his criticisms public. They didn't. But it did mean that those with eyes to see and with ears to hear could begin to separate bogus practices of prayer with the higher purposes and intended functions of prayer.

In addition to what Jesus teaches us about prayer here, is there not also a lesson for how we approach criticism as well? When we critique prayers or worship assemblies, do we do so as insider with a heart for what we hope to reform? Or do we do so in helpless frustration without the slightest intention of being a part of the solution?

Jesus' intention was to call people to prayer, but to call them to a kind of prayer that was sincere, God-centered, and rooted in faith. He wasn't just offering a criticism to show off the fact that he was smart enough to see something that was amiss. If we must offer criticism, it should always be, as it was with Jesus, with a higher calling in mind.

Worship in the OT

2010-08-20T10:22:00.003-05:00

Over the past few months, our church has been looking at worship in the Old Testament. We have seen that in most ways, worship was different than the way we experience worship today. While there were festivals and holidays in which people gathered as the priests led them in carefully prescribed rites, the idea of a weekly worship service would have to wait until the advent of synagogues after the Exile.

Still, the human impetus to worship and God's response to our worship seem to have changed very little. We still worship God in gratitude for what he has done and in awe of who he is. God still takes delight when we devote our lives to him in the pursuit of holiness (or to say it another way, in pursuit of living out our lives as a people set apart from the world). And as such, we have seen that there are numerous lessons about worship available in the OT. Of those, three stick out in my mind.

First, worship is not a performance to be observed. Worship is a conscious act on the part of the worshiper. When Noah offered a sacrifice of thanksgiving after disembarking the ark, he was obviously unable to visit a local temple. He had to build the altar with his own two hands. Every bit of Noah's act, from the picking up of the first stone to the last stoking of the fire on the altar, was an act of active worship. Worship should never be considered passive. It should never be something we merely observe. The time we spend in a worship service is the culmination of so many other efforts. The time you spent getting your family ready for church is an act of worship. The work you did earning the money from which your offering to the Lord will come was an of worship. The hands you shook and the necks you hugged on your way in (and on the way out) of the church building were not just an act of fellowship, they were an act of worship. Every moment that a line from a song, a prayer, or a sermon, comes to you in the middle of a week, that is an act of worship. Worshipers are not passive observers. Worshipers are active baskers in the loving and enduring presence of God.

Second, the holiness of the worshiper is as (if not more) important than the correctness of the worship rituals. This can be a hard one for us. Few people throughout the history of Christianity have stressed the importance of correct forms in worship like we have. At its best, this trait of ours is rooted in a tireless devotion to God and a desire to be attentive to what he has prescribed. At its worst, this trait has made us act, on occasion, like joyless nitpickers who are more concerned with avoiding error than we are in embodying the spirit of worship. As David put it in Psalm 51, "For [God takes] no delight in sacrifice; if I were to give a burnt offering, [God] would not be pleased. The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart." If the acts of worship we engage in don't match our heart, they are meaningless. Furthermore, many of the prophets (like Amos, for one) stress that if we are not living holy lives of devotion to God and in pursuit of justice for those who are poor, our worship is nothing but noise. God may appreciate our zeal for and our attention to detail, but if that attention to detail stops short of living holy lives, our worship will not be pleasing to God.

Finally, worship in the OT reminds us that God is sovereign. He is above the earth, the nations of the earth, the people of those nations, and the hearts and minds of those people. Our reverence before the master of the universe requires more than maintaining decorum in a worship service. Our reverence before God requires that we reframe our lifestyles, our ways of thinking, and our modes of operation in light of who we are before God. For worship is not just about us at the moment we collectively come before God. Worship is a way of life. It permeates what we do, and by extension, who we are.

Plowshares into Swords

2009-11-11T14:49:00.000-06:00

The United States Navy has a new warship. Christened the USS New York, the ship was forged from steel removed from the remains of the World Trade Center following the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. The decision to recycle the debris in this way has, admittedly, left me with mixed feelings.

On the one hand, I love the idea of recycling that steel in a way that both commemorates those that lost their lives on 9/11 and inspires those that are now faced with the US Military's ongoing response to those attacks. I cannot imagine that an American sailor could feel anything but pride when given assignment on board the USS New York.

On the other hand, I grieve the obvious juxtaposition between salvaging the remains of a peacetime workplace to create a warship and the prophetic promises of peace like that found in Isaiah: "[God] will judge between the nations and will settle disputes for many peoples. They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore."

Such a day clearly has yet to come. World peace is an elusive dream that frequently looks more like sheer fantasy than an attainable reality. And when there is violence, there is almost always retribution. Plowshares are beat into swords. Pruning hooks are fashioned into spears. People of peace are conscripted into armies of war.

I will leave arguments over the justifications for war to others who are smarter and better informed than me. Yet, we can exert our energy into praying for peace. And just in case you are wondering, there is a difference between praying and wishing.

Wishing is futile, but prayer has the power to transform--and not just by springing God into action. Prayer can transform us too. It gives us permission to live life in anticipation of what God intends for the world he created rather than in fear of whatever torments our enemies may intend for us. And we live, think, and behave differently when we anticipate God's transformation of the enemies weapons into instruments of peace than when we live in fear of those same weapons.

So pray for the day when the USS New York will no longer be needed as a warship--a day when it can be reconstituted as a fishing boat, a freighter, or perhaps even another high-rise building. Pray for the day that nations will no longer take up swords against other nations, nor train for war anymore. Pray to see machine guns melted down and refashioned as medical supplies, tanks transformed into tractors, and fighter jets into extremely fast crop dusters. And live in anticipation of God's promised future of peace.

A Mean Game

2009-11-08T09:30:00.003-06:00

In the fall, I spend my free moments on Saturdays and Sundays watching football. That hardly sets me apart from most Texan males, but it has occasionally earned me a stinging rebuke from my daughter. Last season, she would merely cry every time I switched the television from cartoons to pigskin and say, "I hate football."

This season, she is a year older and bit more observant. In fact, for a moment, I thought I had peaked some interest in her for the game this past Saturday. She sat in my lap and I explained lines of scrimmage, first downs, and tackling. As I described tackling, the player who was being tackled remained on the ground writhing and he had to be helped off of the field where he was tended to by trainers. "I don't like football, Daddy," she said, "It's a mean game." I suppose she has a point. I did not, however, shut off the television. Mean game or no, few things get my competitive juices, as vicariously as they may be, flowing like a good football game. There is something about my team versus your team, my state versus your state, my favorite players versus yours. Plus, I figure that as barbaric as football can be, it's far more civilized than warfare, gladiatorial matches, and church in-fighting. Okay, so I snuck up on you with that last one, but it's true. Church conflict is a mean game.

Perhaps it is because we perceive that so much is at stake. Perhaps it is because we misunderstand the people we perceive to be our adversaries. Perhaps it is because we are human and we humans are notorious for getting crossways over insignificant minutiae. Whatever the initial reasons for conflict were, they seldom matter for long. Once conflicts escalate, they cease to be as much about what as they are about who.

Paul, in writing to the church in Philippi, addresses a conflict from what seems to be two prominent women within the congregation: Euodia and Syntyche. Paul never addresses the issue. The issue no longer mattered. The conflict was past who was wrong and who was right. Both sides had become wrong because they had forgotten something more important than whatever they were fighting about: they were sisters in Christ.

Paul, like a therapist giving an assignment to a quarreling couple, gives these women (and anyone who, as so often happens in church conflicts, might have become embroiled in this conflict themselves) a homework assignment. We quote his instructions often, but we seldom remember that they are addressing a real life instance of church conflict. Paul challenges them, "whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things."

Before we hurt a brother or sister and leave them writhing on the field of play after a vicious hit in a mean game, Paul challenges to see more in our brothers and sisters than the adversaries in a conflict they themselves have come to represent. We're not to dwell on our differences of approach or opinion. We're to think about anything we can find that is excellent and praiseworthy, because if we look, we will find that which God is carrying forward to completion in them and such a realization should, no, must change our hearts.

Imagine My Surprise

2009-11-05T13:54:00.005-06:00

I recently made a visit so see a woman who is no longer able to come to church on a regular basis. I usually leave such visits feeling good about the people that have gone before me in our churches. Sometimes, however, I am reminded that not all of our history is worthy of pride. While there, the woman shared an anecdote that seemed to be an attempt at humor. She was at the hospital here in town waiting to see her doctor. Her words: "You can imagine my surprise when a black n----r walked in with a stethoscope and clipboard."

Should I have said something? It's pretty hard to teach an old dog a new tricks, but is that the point? Is there a point where I need to speak up despite my inability to persuade those to whom I am speaking?

This time, it mattered little what I needed to do. I was so caught off guard that I could not have responded--even if I thought I needed to do so. Later, I thought I might have responded, "As your minister, you can imagine my surprise to hear such hateful language coming from the mouth of a lifelong follower of Christ." Perhaps that would have caught her as off guard as she had caught me. I mean, who did you she think I was? Why would she think that I would be an approving audience for such language? She would not think of using profanity or taking the Lord's name in vain in front of me (even if she usually did (and I doubt she does) so anyway). Was there really a time when you could expect the preacher at your church to laugh at the punchline of such a ridiculously racist anecdote? This makes me shutter in shame just to consider the likelihood that there was such a time.

Yet, I wonder what things we say, do, and believe that will make our grandchildren shudder in embarrassment. Do we really want to know? Would we defend ourselves and point to the specks in their eyes or would we dare turn our attention to the logs jutting out of our own eyes.

This is greatness...

2009-09-08T12:45:00.001-05:00

I pulled Elizabeth out of school today between 10:30 AM and 12:30 PM. Of course, it had nothing to do with the Obama speech. She had to have her cast removed from her once broken arm. I wonder how many other parents pulled their children out of school for more paranoid reasons.

Mexia

2009-09-03T12:16:00.002-05:00

Kara and I are pleased to announce that we will soon be moving to Mexia, Texas, where I will join the Northcrest Church of Christ as preaching minister.

I will begin preaching there full time on September 20.

Computers, Hurley, and Ewoks

2009-04-16T09:38:00.004-05:00

I have not intentionally neglected the blog schedule I laid out. In fact, most of the content for these past two weeks has already been written. Unfortunately, my desktop (on which I wrote said content) is experiencing major issues. In fact, I cannot get it to boot properly. As you can imagine, this has taken the wind out of my sails.

That being said, I wanted to go on record (as a fan of Lost) that I wholeheartedly approve of Hugo's plan to rewrite Empire Strikes Back. While I have my doubts about a heart-to-heart dialog between Luke and Vader, I am willing to risk any alteration of the original that could prevent the need for Ewoks in Return of the Jedi. Not everyone would use a chance to live in 1977 so selflessly. Think of all the sci-fi geeks Hugo could help by sparing us all from Han and Leia's teddy bear picnic. Kudos, Hugo Hurley. We're depending on you. Any creatures that would worship C3-PO are worth the effort of time-travel eradification.

Baptism of Alta Vann

2009-04-13T10:57:00.002-05:00

Happy Birthday, Peyton!

2009-04-09T20:13:00.002-05:00

You are the sweetest little boy I have ever known.

Easter Week

2009-04-06T09:52:00.002-05:00

We had a wonderful evening together last night. We have been progressing through a semi-structured series of discussions on the basic foundations of Christian faith. Last night we spent the whole evening discussing baptism. My children were both in rare (okay, it was admittedly typical) form, so Kara did not get to participate in the discussion as much as she would have liked--but the Lord blessed it. One of our group members said he had never given the subject much thought until that night. He is now beginning to consider making that decision himself. His wife, Alta, had given it some previous thought. Alta had decided several years ago that she wanted to be baptized, but she was waiting until she found a church home for herself. Last night I asked her if she wanted me to baptize her next Sunday on Easter. She was extremely excited about this and she agreed. I look forward to posting pictures of this blessed event next Monday.

Continue to pray that God will work through us and bring people into our lives that need the Lord.

I Die Everyday

2009-04-02T08:17:00.003-05:00

Paul says, “I die everyday.” I am not saying we know exactly what he means. He did say it just after he mentions the baptism for the dead, after all, and none of us pretend to know what that is about. But he felt the need to reiterate his claim of daily dying by saying, “I mean that, brothers and sisters.” For Paul, the resurrection was the last piece of the puzzle that made all of that dying worth it. Without the resurrection, he says, we Christians are to be pitied above everyone else in the world. Yet, Paul does not rush past the death of Jesus on his way to Easter Sunday. In fact, the death of Jesus is the central act in the story has redefined his life. It is the context that gives the resurrection its true meaning. It represents a posture toward the world that Paul not only imitates himself, but he calls the Corinthians to imitate his imitated posture. When Paul says he dies everyday, he does so as one who has chosen to live the rest of his life in the death of Jesus. Elsewhere, Paul says things like, “I have been crucified with Christ,” and “we carry the death of Jesus around within our bodies.” Paul anticipates a day in which he will be resurrected and death will have no more claim on him, but until then, Paul is living his life as a dead man walking—a man sentenced to die a daily form of death until he finally dies a literal death.

Morose? Perhaps. Appealing? Maybe not. On target? Dead on (I’d apologize for the pun here if it wasn’t so obviously intentional).

Let’s face it. There is a lot of death in what we do as Christians. We die to ourselves in baptism. We remember the Lord’s death as we break his body and drink his blood in the Eucharist. It can be a bit of a stretch for people living in a culture that does everything it can to avoid discussions of death and our own mortality. That is part of why we prefer dwelling on the resurrection of Christ to living in the death of Christ. We prefer the pleasant aspects of our faith and avoid the part that, at best, seems strange to us and, at worst, makes us frighteningly uncomfortable. We prefer to think of Jesus’ death as the necessary step for the important part (the resurrection) to take place. Yet, if we value Paul’s perspective on the relationship of Jesus’ death to that of his resurrection, we must consider the possibility that it is the other way around. Rather than the death of Jesus being the necessary step in making resurrection possible, what if we look at the resurrection as that which makes living as one sentenced to death for the sake of the world meaningful, bearable, and worth pursuing.

This is why Paul can boast of his suffering—for if he can share in Christ’s death, he can share in his resurrection. Yet, resurrection entails more than life after death in Paul’s view. In Galatians, Paul says, “I have been crucified with Christ, yet nevertheless I live, but not I, but Christ, lives in me and the life that I now live I live by faith in the Son of God who loves me and gave himself for me.” In Romans, he speaks of those who are baptized as dying to themselves and being raised again to walk in the newness of life. Paul sees a resurrected life for us in this life as we die to sin and take up life in the Spirit, possessing a renewed mind (or as he calls it in 1 Corinthians and Philippians, the mind of Christ). Yet, that resurrection takes place after (and only after) we die to ourselves.

The tricky part is that this dying isn’t a once for all kind of event. As Paul put it, “I die everyday.” Everyday we have to decide again to die to ourselves in order to be made alive again in Jesus. Each death precedes a resurrection. The question is whether that resurrection is a resurrection of a Christlike self or the resurrection of the old self.

My greatest frustration with my own experience is that I too often experience a resurrection of the old self. I find that I rarely mature as much as I think that I have. All it takes is for the circumstances of my life to change a tad and I start behaving and thinking in ways I thought I outgrew long ago. As such, the self to which I thought I died comes right back to life. This isn’t the Christlike resurrection in which a spiritual transformation takes place, it is more of a resuscitation of someone I only thought/hoped was dead. But no matter what, death to self will give way to one kind of life or the other.

So, I am trying to take hold of dying everyday conceptually. It’s hard enough as a concept. As a reality to be embraced, I must confess, I am more than daunted by the example that Paul sets for us there. And yet, there is hint of hope in Paul’s words too. The fact that the call of Jesus demands we make a choice to die every day means that we need not feel defeated whenever the old self shows its selfish face. It means that such a resuscitation of the old self is a natural one for which we know the well-practiced remedy.

But what about the desire? How to we come to find this approach to the world appealing? And how do we get that appeal to stick once we find it? What will call us back to this calling once the appeal wears off? This is why I think we need to begin thinking not just in terms of spiritual formation, but in terms of Christian cruciformation. We are not seeking to be better meditators simply to experience God in our hearts and minds. We are seeking to be better meditators so that God will transform our hearts and minds into the image of his Son. So too is the case for any other discipline.

Instead of being daunted by our own inability to live up to Paul’s example of dying to himself everyday, we should take up spiritual practices that allow us to submit to a calling that is more challenging than we are ready to accept.

Slowing

2009-03-31T10:22:00.004-05:00

Few of us need a prophet to tell us that we keep ourselves too busy. We hurry our children off to school. We drive to work during rush hour. We cram fast food down our throats. We use the Internet and GPS devices to help us determine the absolute quickest route from point A to point B. And we even find ourselves opening church meetings with “quick prayers.”

In our culture, fast is good and slow is not fast. We keep sayings to the contrary in our back pocket like, “Good things take time,” and “Don’t forget to stop and smell the roses,” but we also get miffed if we are forced to wait too long for our food in a restaurant or if the car in front of us is taking the time to take in the surrounding scenery. One of the reasons we get miffed is that our need for speed is intricately tied to our inherent selfishness.

When others force us to slow down, our basic sense of injustice is activated. We are flabbergasted by the inconsiderate actions of others. We wonder if they have ever stopped to think about how their actions are costing us time and money. Yet, any time we react to others with anger, we risk losing control of ourselves by allowing other to dictate how we will feel and how we will behave. Such reactivity is dangerous both spiritually and physically. Doctors tells us that reactive, anger-prone persons are more susceptible to heart attacks and other health problems. Reactive, anger-prone persons also suffer spiritually. Some learn to modify their behavior to mask their anger (or at least they think they do), but they do not take steps to let go of that anger or, better yet, to prevent it in the first place.

One benefit of slowing is that, over time, we are taught to live contentedly within the boundaries of what we can control and to accept the aspects of our lives that we will never be able to fully control. Slowing is a close cousin to a discipline I learned from a supervisor at the hospital where I was training to be a chaplain. Every time her situation changed, she asked herself, “What is my duty to this moment?” If a student walked in, she would ask herself that question. If she sat down to do paperwork, she would ask herself that question. If she was sitting down with friends for a meal, she would ask herself that question. The discipline helped her to slow down and keep her head in the moment and out of what she needed to do next or what she felt like she should be doing instead. Whenever we live our lives in a rush, we neglect the moment over which we have the most control: now.

Slowing teaches us some lessons that are hard to come by in our information and entertainment saturated world. How much “down time” do we fill with music, television, video games, or even books? How often do we sit still without filling our time and space with noise that distracts us from seeing God?

Many spiritual disciplines hold in common a promise to make God more visible to those who practice them. Slowing is one such discipline. It is no wonder that we so often miss seeing God in our everyday life when we never slow long enough to notice him. Remember, the objective of practicing spiritual disciplines is not to perfect you in some area of your life. The objective is to make room for God in an area of your life that is currently unavailable to God. Start small. You might be surprised how dramatic an impact slowing can make with even the smallest change. You might be shocked to see how often you missed the needs of others when you were hurrying--and no matter how giving you are as a person, it is difficult to meet needs that you fail to notice.

So slow down. Look for God. Look for the needs of others. And be prepared to see a side of the world you have been missing

Buds of Hope

2009-03-30T09:47:00.000-05:00

The Grove has experienced a fallow season of late. Part of that is due to a fallow season in my own life. Part of it is due to a change in the makeup of our team. But spring is here. And so are we. We survived the winter. Barely. But we did survive. We survived some tough weather and a painful pruning. But we survived. And now we are waiting for those first signs of fresh growth. The growth will come.

Maybe.

I hope it will. But my faith does not depend on it. My life does not depend on it. Both will go on and the Lord will find ways to use me and mold me whether it is here or elsewhere.
But I hope that will be here. I hope that will be with the small handful of people who still populate our grove. I hope that we will find a way to assess who we are and where we are and find a way to do meaningful ministry in a way that is necessary and sustainable.
But I am no longer desperate to accomplish this. If the Lord will bless it with his rain and make it grow, I will tend it. If he calls people from the corners of Waco to be a part of our grove, I will do my best to continually call them back to their God and to his mission in our world. But if he does not, he does not. And I will leave this chapter of my life in peace. It is a peace that has come with the price tag of some intense grief over some shattered idealism and a straining of some special relationships, but a peace that comes on the other side of grief is, if not the most desirable, the most sustainable.

So, at present, I am casting a wide net. I am looking for people who feel called by God to build a church that is more than a place, a church that is more than the sum of all of its ministries, and a church that knows that just because we are chasing something new and exciting does not make us better than (and in many cases will not make us as good as) the churches we seek to be different than. I want it to be possible to step forward into a new and unexplored world of being church without carrying forward an arrogance that we can do everything better. It will undoubtedly be a calling we occasionally neglect, but it is the right and proper anecdote for a poison that too often weakens that which is novel and fresh.

So, for the first time in some months, I am excited about what is about to happen at The Grove. Spring is always an exciting time. New growth is always a beautiful thing. And whether that new growth is meant for a church that is about to blossom or it is just a personal growth that will propel me into whatever is next, I am eager to see what will become of it. As such, I plan to rededicate myself to this blog. Blogging can be cathartic if one has something to share. For a while now, I have not wanted to share what I have had to say with anyone and everyone that might cruise past my blog. But as spring breaks, my thoughts are turning back to things that I am more eager to share.

As I reengage, I intend to do so with a weekly rhythm in terms of content. On Mondays, I will share an update (even if ever-so-brief) about The Grove. On Tuesdays, I intend to share some of my ongoing reflections about how we can use specific spiritual disciplines to form us in ways that lead us into the world as people of mission. On Thursdays, I am going to share some general theological reflections on what I am thinking and experiencing about God. For a while, I want to reflect on the idea of cruciformity and how spiritual disciplines can provoke a process of (to risk coining a word) cruciformation. I have some thoughts on why that is necessary, how that is possible, and what needs to accompany it to prevent it from being a resurrection-less way of life. On Friday, I am going to write about something that interests me. It may be sports. It may be my family. It may be politics. Something. I am not going to post on Saturdays or Sundays. I used to post brief thoughts and boast about sports on my blog, but I find that Facebook has become a better outlet for such things.

I am not entirely certain that I still have an audience after letting the blog go for a while, but if you find this post, I invite you to check back regularly and to enter into a conversation with me about this business of becoming Christ in the world.

Extras

2009-01-09T09:33:00.007-06:00

I recently saw Synecdoche, New York with a couple of friends. They loved it. I acknowledge it had its moments. One of those moments is when the ironically self-obsessed Caden Cotard observes, "There are billions of people in the world. And none of them are extras." Everyone gets to play the lead role in his or her life.

Some people attend large churches because they rather appreciate the level of anonymity those churches provide them. I understand. When I attend a church where I am not well-known, I like maintaining a level of anonymity myself. I know I am not one of the principals there. My role is to observe, to be a part of the audience, as the principals play their roles. If they play their roles well, I had little to do with it. If they play their roles poorly, I share none of the culpability. I am just an extra and that is a comfortable role to play.

Recently, a friend of mine afforded me the opportunity to be an extra in an independent film. I am still unsure whether or not my brief role as a lineless passerby will make the final edit. I am not holding my breath. No one who sees the film will notice me, much less remember me. That is life as an extra. But for me, it was quite an experience. I got to see people acting naturally as though they weren't really in front of people holding up lights and cameras repeating the same scene they had just shot moments ago. I got to see just how long it can take to film a scene in which an actress leaves a building and walks to her car. Whether anyone notices or remembers my part in the movie, I will never forget it because I was playing the lead role in my experience as an extra.

As a principal player in churches large and small, it is easy to think of the people who fill pews and classrooms as extras. True, some of them are clinging to their anonymity. True, many of them have no desire to become more involved or to take on leadership responsibilities or to even pay attention to sermons or Bible class lessons. But they are not extras. They are playing the lead roles in their own experiences of God, his church, and the world that often seems void of his presence. And they need to be noticed. They need to be heard. And what they say needs to be remembered. (And not just so that you can argue with them or straighten them out.)

Ideally, churches are not mere places where information is disseminated. Churches are communities that are learning from one another who God is, what he is up to in the world, and what it means to live life in communion with he and his people. Whenever we make the dissemination of information our primary objective, we are falling into a trap that prioritizes belief over belonging.

I recently heard Peter Rollins, an Irish philosopher and an emergent church practitioner, speak at Baylor. Rollins says that the church has too long insisted on using a wrong-headed pattern for integrating people into its fold: Believe, Behave, Belong. We expect people to believe the right things, then we expect them to reorder their lives accordingly, and then, and only then, can they truly belong. Rollins suggests we turn that around completely. First, we need to know that we belong and as we come to belong in a new community, our lives cannot help but be reordered. To put it simply, we begin to behave differently. Over time, our beliefs are challenged, reshaped, and eventually transformed. This is a better pattern for myriad reasons, but two jump out at me as paramount.

First, few people are willing to live or believe differently to become a part of a community that will not accept them unless they do. Why would they? Second, putting belief first assumes that our belief system is (or at least should be) static. That is absurd. Our belief system should be growing, it should be being stretched, and, at times, utterly transformed. This should happen because we are living in community with people who have experiences and thoughts and alternative perspectives to lend to us as we grow as people of faith. As such, whenever someone new comes into our community, not only will their behavior and belief system be challenged and eventually changed, so to will the rest of ours. But people have to belong in our community before they can impact the way we live and believe.

When we put belief first, it is easy to think of the newcomers and pew-fillers as extras. It is easy to think in terms of members and visitors. It is easy for us to behave as though we are trying to sell ourselves or our church or our belief system to discriminating consumers of religious goods and services. But if we can coax the horse back to its place in front of the cart, we stop seeing extras and we begin seeing new lead players in the development of our church communities and (just as importantly) of ourselves.

This is why it is not absurd to consider that the church's mission is to go into all the world. This is why it is not absurd to claim that God loves every person in the world completely and individually. This is why it is more than claptrap to say that we peons (in terms of faith and importance) can have a meaningful and personal relationship with God and his son. "There are billions of people in the world. And none of them are extras." And, I would add, we have something to teach and something to learn from every one of them. And we cannot do so unless we start (and keep on) getting out of ourselves and to continually thrust ourselves deeper into the community we too glibly call the church.

The BCS Ranks Germany to be the Winner of WWII

2008-12-11T16:18:00.003-06:00

Kudos to Andy Walsh of the Bleacher Report for this piece:

After determining the Big-12 championship game participants, the BCS computers were put to work on other major contests; today the BCS declared Germany to be the winner of World War II.

" Germany put together an incredible number of victories beginning with the annexation of Austria and the Sudetenland and continuing on into conference play with defeats of Poland , France , Norway , Sweden , Denmark , Belgium and the Netherlands . Their only losses came against the US and Russia ; however, considering their entire body of work--including an incredibly tough strength of schedule--our computers deemed them worthy of the #1 ranking."

Questioned about the #4 ranking of the United States , the BCS commissioner stated "The US only had two major victories-- Japan and Germany . The computer models, unlike humans, aren't influenced by head-to-head contests--they consider each contest to be only a single, equally-weighted event."

German Chancellor Adolph Hitler said "Yes, we lost to the US , but we defeated #2 ranked France in only 6 weeks." Herr Hitler has been criticized for seeking dramatic victories to earn 'style points' to enhance Germany 's rankings. Hitler protested "Our contest with Poland was in doubt until the final day and the conditions in Norway were incredibly challenging and demanded the application of additional forces."

The French ranking has also come under scrutiny. The BCS commented " France had a single loss against Germany and following a preseason #1 ranking they only fell to #2."

Japan was ranked #3 with victories including Manchuria, Borneo and the Philippines.

Neo-Arianism (in My House)

2008-11-18T09:27:00.004-06:00

Elizabeth found herself in her first christology debate this morning.

Her cousin Shaelyn referred to a picture of Jesus as a picture of God. Elizabeth corrected her saying, "It's not God. It's Jesus."

Shaelyn informed her, "They are the same person."

Elizabeth rebutted, "No they are not. That is Jesus and Jesus is not God."

I would have corrected them both, but I wasn't sure where to start. Our faith barely makes since to those of who study it all the time. There is no sense in casting these fine theological pearls to three-year-olds.

Hope

2008-11-17T07:27:00.005-06:00

Youthful exuberance can lead to idealism.

Broken dreams can lead to cynicism.

Only faith leads to a hope that doesn't require life to work out perfectly and isn't crushed when dreams crash and burn.

Idealism is intoxicating, but cynicism is not the sobering alternative.

Idealism is rarely grounded in reality.

Cynicism is grounded only in the reality of our limited knowledge and experiences.

But only hope is grounded in true reality. Hope has one leg grounded in the cold world that breaks our idealistic dreams, but hope also has a leg grounded in God's future--a future that sees past doom, gloom, and defeatism.

The dreams we have for our lives only say something about ourselves. While hope does say something about us, hope is rooted in something outside of ourselves.

My hope is rooted in Christ alone. I hope Christ can bring you hope too.

A Prairie Home Companion, Live from ACU

2008-11-13T10:47:00.003-06:00

Keillor interviews Jack Reese at 1:32:20 -- hilarious!

Close to God

2008-11-12T09:15:00.005-06:00

I had a conversation with a friend yesterday about what it meant to be close to God. I brought it up because I often hear people talk about times in their lives when they were close to God and of other times when they were not. To be sure, not everyone will mean the same thing when they speak of being close to God, but what kind of things are they referring to? Are they referring to times in their lives when they were part of a church and felt connected to God through others or through meaningful worship? Are they referring to times in their lives when they felt like their prayers were being heard and weren't just bouncing off the ceiling? Or could they be referring to times in their lives when they were committed to being virtuous people who made good choices and avoided bad behaviors?

For me, I feel close to God when I am at peace with my submission to the present moment. I feel the furthest from God when I am obsessing over what will happen tomorrow or next month or next year. I believe that I have a duty to each moment in my life. Sometimes my duty is to prepare for something in the future, but my duty remains in that moment of preparation. Other times my duty is to sleep and to rest. Other times my duty is to be present and involved with my family. And other times my duty is to practice the kind of self-emptying spiritual exercises that can mold me into the kind of person that is more attuned to my God-given moments that arise at other times. My duty to all of these moments has a future-looking component to them. If I don't prepare, I will cheat future moments. If I am not present with my family or before my God, I will not have the kind of relationship I desire with either. If I don't engage in spiritual exercises that help me let go of the deepest and most selfishly unsanctified recesses of my soul, those recesses will bubble up and begin to control me once again.

Still, the fact that our duty to the moment so often has future ramifications does not mean that our duty to the moment is to worry over the future. It is worry that paralyzes us into inaction and prevents us from doing our duty to the present moment. For me, it also creates distance between God and me. And it is in that vein that I speak of my own closeness to God. I feel closest to God when I can be still and know that God is God. I feel closest to God when I submit to God's plea to let tomorrow worry about itself and to focus on today. For despite the fact that God is the God of the past and that God will be the God of the future, God revealed himself to Moses in the present tense: I AM THAT I AM. I AM is the God of the present tense and I feel closest to God when I meet God there.

If you feel compelled to join the conversation, I am curious as to when others feel closest to God. I think these are the kind of conversations in which we can learn a great deal from one another.

Winning the Country Back

2008-11-05T19:47:00.004-06:00

Six years ago, we heard a lot about the demise of the Democratic Party. It had become a regional party with little national significance. Democrat die-hards theorized about what had gone so wrong and made plans for how they could "win the country back."

Today, the news is about the demise of the Republican Party. They are saying it is a regional party with little national significance. Now the GOP die-hards are doing their best to wax eloquent about the party's future prospects and what they have to do to "win the country back."

There is also a lot of talk about the demise of Christianity in the West, in general, and, more specifically, America. They are saying that Christianity is becoming less relevant politically and culturally. Some of the institutional die-hards are doing their best to find a way to "win the country back."

Trust me. I am not apathetic about the decline of Christianity in America. I would not be a church planter if I didn't believe that Christians need to quit playing defense and go on offense. But neither am I interested in slick marketing campaigns or political lobbying or trendier Christian music or hipper looking pastors. If Christians are going to "win the country back," it is going to take more than a good strategy and an extreme makeover. It is going to take action--and not just any action. It is going to take cruciform action.

Cruciform means cross-shaped. Cruciform means allowing the Holy Spirit to transform our hunger for power into poverty of spirit. Cruciform means allowing the cross to reshape our greed into Godly generosity and radical hospitality. Cruciform means living for the sake of the world for which Christ died to save and not for the world that we are trying to win. Cruciform means surrendering to defeat before demanding victory.

"Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple" (Luke 14:27).

Republicans and Democrats can fight over the world. Just give me Jesus.

No Matter What...

2008-11-04T08:39:00.005-06:00

today's results will not bring about the end of the world. Only God can and only God will do that.

And we who are God's people have the same calling whether our nation is red or blue. We are to live in Christ for the sake of the world.

If Obama wins, hunters won't be hauled off to concentration camps. The stars on the American flag won't be replaced by little hammers and sickles. And he isn't going to swear his oath in Arabic while Rev. Wright holds a copy of the Koran.

If McCain wins, he won't single-handedly start World War III. He will not, as Pat Buchanan has suggested, make Dick Cheney look like Gandhi. He will not be able to melt the ice caps to flood San Francisco or send gigantic hurricanes to wipe out New England in an attempt to shore up his electoral chances in 2012. And the Dallas Mavericks won't start winning playoff games.

If God wins, Christ will continue to be formed in us regardless of who we voted for. We will continue to be conscious of the plight of the least of those who live around us regardless of who they voted for. We will continue to pray for peace, no matter how we believe that can be best achieved. And we will focus first on removing the logs from our own eyes before attempting to remove the specks from the eyes of those with whom we differ ideologically, whether that be politically or religiously.

Just so you know, I am praying that God wins.

Halloween

2008-11-01T13:53:00.001-05:00

Accidents and Incessant Ticking

2008-10-29T10:14:00.004-05:00

I have a clock in my office. I didn't know it made a ticking noise until a few minutes ago. It is now all I can hear and I am very close to removing it's battery.

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Yesterday, we got a call from Elizabeth's school. She wet her pants. For some reason, the teacher could not find the backup clothes.

Apparently, the day before, a girl had wet herself at nap time. That girl had no backup clothes either. Her dad came to pick her up and take her home.

Yesterday, after the teacher announced that it was time to go back inside after playing on the playground, Elizabeth released her bladder, walked up to the teacher and said, "I wet my pants. You have to call my Daddy and tell him to come get me." Ironically, I was there to pick her up early anyway when they called. I am torn between really loving the way her mind works and being worried that this gimmick might recur--especially when (in her mind) it only took me half a minute to get inside to pick her up once they had called me.

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In an unrelated accident, I backed my car into my garbage bin and the trash can won. It is unscathed. My car is missing some reflective plastic on the back door. Not cool.

Ironically, this is not the first battle a garbage bin of mine has inexplicably won against far more expensive and valuable items in my household. Check out this blast from my past. It seems now, I will also have to keep garbage bins away from my car.

Barack Obama Has Secret Ties to Militant Tibetan Monks

2008-10-24T10:53:00.003-05:00

I know some of you are voting for McCain for reasons that don't require you to believe that Barack Obama is the anti-christ or a secret Muslim militant waiting to hand Osama bin Ladin the codes to our nuclear (or nucular, if you prefer) arsenal. But you have gotten the emails. And if you haven't...I am jealous. Anyhow, these ridiculous accusations and rumors are why I find this video to be hilarious.

The Art of Productive Procrastination

2008-10-24T10:35:00.002-05:00

What better way is there to procrastinate than to do the things you have been procrastinating while you were working hard?

Okay, so there are more fun ways to procrastinate. But yesterday, I finally tackled the chore I have been dreading since we moved into our new home in December: the garage. I told Kara last winter I would get it organized after it got warmer. But it got too warm too soon. I told her this summer I would do it after it cooled off and I am proud to say that I honored that promise. I hung eight shelves to get our junk out of boxes and off the floor. To do that, I had to unpack my power tools, some of which I had forgotten I even owned. I installed a florescent light that had been sitting around for a couple of months. I even bought some stuff to fill the gap between the sheet rock and the foundation (where, judging by the droppings, our colony of mice have been infiltrating our walls and attic; that coupled with the poison in the attic may mean our house is about to get stinky, but good things often stink at first).

It feels good to have accomplished something, even if it's not what I am supposed to be working on yet. Of course, now that my tools are out and usable, I am considering that compost bin I have been wanting to build.

Project Complete, Thesis Looming

2008-10-23T09:06:00.005-05:00

A few weeks ago, I informed you that my project-thesis process had entered a lull. That lull is over now and I am currently sitting at my desk praying for motivation to begin writing again.

Last night, we finished the last of eight sessions on Cross-Shaped Spirituality at the Robinson Church of Christ. I enjoyed the group process. There are a legion of details I would alter and strategies I would abandon if I had to do it all again. Thankfully, I do not have to do it again. If I ever do it again, it will be because I chose to do it again. Still, I have what I need and my confidence is growing that I will end up with a suitable end product.

As before, blogging may suffer a tad in the upcoming weeks. If you have grown to rely upon my blogposts to get through your day, just know that I'll be back soon. If you think yourself unlikely to notice, please keep that to yourself. Cruciform humility is another thing I don't intend to pursue until after completing this project. Baby steps...

2008-10-22T11:39:00.003-05:00

Zogby says Obama and McCain are tied amongst NASCAR fans.

I don't know that Martin Luther King, Jr. would have dreamed of that.

Mid-Life Ponderings

2008-10-22T11:27:00.003-05:00

Balding is a cruel process.

I don't think I am old enough to look that different than I did just a few years ago, but I am starting to accept the fact that I do.

At least my new hairdo (or lack thereof) is easy to maintain.

We are going to ACU for Kara's ten year reunion.

The reunion and the balding forced me to realize that we are now middle-aged. That can't be possible, can it? Everyone is always telling me how young I am and they may be right, but I am much older in reality than I think of myself as being. I know that folks my parents age like to consider themselves middle-aged, but really...how many people do you know that are 110?

I guess I should go through a mid-life crisis. I can't afford a new sports car. I don't want a different wife. I am content to stay in ministry. And the pattern of my facial hair makes growing a soul patch out of the question. Any suggestions for how I should act out during my mid-life crisis?

Peyton, My Boy

2008-10-17T09:52:00.003-05:00

Some of you know that during this academic semester, Peyton has been staying home with me. He sleeps enough and plays quietly on the floor enough that I still (somehow) get a lot of work done. It just doesn't make sense to pay someone else to be with him. I am not sure it would make sense if someone else was willing to pay to be with him. He's that easy and he is that wonderful. Is that enough gushing praise? Here a couple of recent pictures of my boy.

Peyton is sitting in Granbarry's lap next to Cousin Asa. Asa is wearing a helmet so that his head won't end up looking like his Uncle Zach's!

I am not sure why this kid is always so happy, but I sure am thankful. It has only been a little over six months since he was born and I already can't imagine life without him.

Green Eggs (and Rolls)

2008-10-16T18:44:00.003-05:00

If you wondered, this is what this dad fed his daughter while Mom was away. Elizabeth is starting to appreciate Dr. Seuss and her favorite book is Green Eggs and Ham. I have no earthly idea how to make ham green--save sitting it a cool damp place and waiting for mold to discolor it. So, we just went with the eggs. I added a few drops of blue food coloring and wallah...

I would eat them in a pan.

I would eat them with my hand.

I would eat them here and there.

I would eat them anywhere!

I like green eggs on a dinner roll.

I like them deep down in my soul.

Okay, so I am not Dr. Seuss. But it was fun nonetheless.

My Pastoral Counseling Strategy

2008-10-14T13:14:00.000-05:00

My Top Five Discoveries on Columbus Day 2008

2008-10-13T17:51:00.003-05:00

5. My threshold for what will make me sore the next day is far lower than it was just a couple years ago.
4. Peyton is now old enough to enjoy a trip to the zoo in his own right.
3. Baylor students eat lunch in their pajamas (we went to lunch with Kara at Memorial).
2. The safest place for something we don't want the mice to get is in a mousetrap.
1. The Longhorns will enter a game as #1 for the first time since 1984 (which was also the last time a Republican tapped a geriatric gentleman's shoulder for president and the last time a woman was nominated for vice president).

Coasting

2008-10-08T08:38:00.005-05:00

I watched The Visitor last night with a group of guys. It's about Walter, a college professor/widower from Connecticut who has an apartment in Manhattan. When he visits his apartment for the first time in a long while, he finds two illegal immigrants squatting there. Bizarrely, this lonely man allows them to stay and he builds a relationship with Tariq (the man from Syria), Tariq's girlfriend, Tariq's mother, and Tariq's culture. There is much there to reflect upon and I have read some insightful reviews in that regard, but there is another aspect to Walter's awakening as a character than his newfound empathy for the plight of illegal immigrants.

Walter had been coasting for years. He would affix his name as a co-author to papers written by young aspiring academes and he managed a reduction in his course load to write a book that he had yet to start (despite telling several people that he was busy writing his book or that the book was nearing completion). Late in the movie, Walter finally confesses to Tariq's mother that he was not busy--that he had really done nothing for years. He tried to appear busy to maintain his position and as an excuse to say no to real work and to keep people at arm's length. He was coasting.

The scary thing about the movie is that I resonate with it. When I started the Doctor of Ministry program at ACU, I did so because I could sense myself slipping into that pattern. In ministry, it is tempting to project busyness to others as a way of avoiding unwanted work or tasks. When ministers are not careful, projecting busyness can also be a way of covering up the fact that they are coasting. It is hard to really tell whether a minister worked hard on a sermon or a class. Some ministers can wing it so well that no one can tell--and the more they pull off winging it, the more tempting it is to wing it in the future. It is even harder to tell if a minister is caring for him or herself spiritually. How do you look at people and see whether or not they have been praying or opening themselves up to God or secretly performing little acts of service (the kind that make more of an impact on the one doing them than on the people they do them for)?

Ministry is a profession with little (if any) daily accountability and that can be a dangerous reality. Ministry tends to appeal to people who have a high need for others to think well of them and it is hard for those kind of people (admittedly, the people of my own tribe) to do that which cannot be seen and admired by others. The scariest part of it all is that we can get away with coasting (for a while), but it is not a reality with which we are forced to find contentment. There are spiritual disciplines that we ministers can practice to combat this tendency to avoid the work which promises the least admiration from others. Take secrecy, for example.

The discipline of secrecy is the discipline of serving others in secret. Too often, the acts of service we do perform can become mere acts of making ourselves look better in the eyes of those we are serving. Secrecy combats that. It prunes the parts of us that that serve only to receive admiration from others. It reshapes the parts of us that will not act unless others are watching and forms us into people content to do good and to be good for the sake of Godly goodness.

Walter wakes up from coasting in The Visitor because new relationships open himself up to feel emotions he had forgotten: joy, righteous indignation at injustice, and love. Ministers too can be awakened from coasting if they will open themselves up to feel, hear, and be reshaped by the one they too often forget about in their comical attempt to make holiness a profession: God.

Occasionally, I need to hear my God say, "Wake up, O sleeper! Quit working for the admiration of the others. Work for the Lord and you cannot fail at what you do."

I hope this post makes you admire me more!

to those of you what watched the VP debate...

2008-10-03T17:05:00.002-05:00

Why?

Eat This Book

2008-09-30T11:54:00.002-05:00

We have mice. Everyone in our neighborhood has struggled with mice a bit. Our subdivision was a cornfield a few years ago and the homes have misplaced the mice, or at least we that live in the homes would like the homes to misplace the mice. They have, however, seemed quite content to stay.

This morning, I found the indoor ground zero for our unwanted pets. It is behind a bookcase in my office. What have they been using to build their nest? Paper. Paper from a Bible that had fallen behind the bookshelf.

Eugene Peterson has a book entitled Eat This Book. It's a great book about feeding on Scripture. Since our house is one of our house churches, I guess that would make these mice our church mice. And these mice have gotten with the program, consuming large quantities of Scripture. At least I know that when I kill them, they will go to heaven.

Bailout Fails...for Now

2008-09-29T16:28:00.005-05:00

While I applaud Congress for saying no to the "rescue" plan for Wall Street, I wish it was for better reasons. I am not against this bailout because it goes against pure capitalism. I think there are far higher values in our world than the values of risk and reward. I am glad this plan went down in flames because it sickens me on a humanitarian front. As Bono put it,

"It is extraordinary to me that you can find $700 billion to save Wall Street and the entire G8 can't find $25 billion to save 25,000 children who die every day of preventable, treatable diseases and hunger."

I know that this housing mess is more complicated that I will ever understand. I know that this decision will have ripples beyond what I can comprehend. You can make those arguments here if you want, but I will remain perplexed at the imbalance in our priorities as a nation. I am not surprised; this is exactly what I would expect of the US or any other nation. But it is not the way of the kingdom of God.

The way of the kingdom of God would have us use our wealth to bless those who are dying of treatable diseases and hunger. The way of the world is to use our wealth to secure our own future and the financial resources that give us the power and clout we have in the world. We will use our resources to bail out those who created their own mess, but we can't pledge a fraction of those same resources to rescue (and this time the word fits) people who were born into a mess that was not of their own making. I don't usually discuss politics on my blog, but this sickens me and I have no problem saying so publicly.

I suspect that the president will get some (if not all) of what he wants. It looks as though only 12 congresspersons need to cave to get this bill through the house. I will still be opposed if and when that happens...but not surprised.

RIP, Yankee Stadium

2008-09-23T09:01:00.004-05:00

Enough with the moving tributes. Yankee Stadium might have hosted some of baseball's greatest moments, but it's not exactly a shrine.

I visited Yankee Stadium twice in 1998 with my dad to see the Yankees and the Red Sox play and I will share just a few of the moments that, I am sad to say, I will never get to experience again.

A security guard threatened to throw me out because I looked at him funny.
Two near riots (one each night) when Yankee Stadium stopped serving alcohol. I guess they don't want people to try to ride the subway drunk.
A two hour rain delay in which more drunk idiots than we could count won an overnight stay in jail by leaping over the railing and playing slip and slide on the rain tarp.
A guy that I think might have been autistic was nearly assaulted for wearing a Mets cap to the game and for rooting for the Bulls in a playoff series against the Knicks as he watched on his portable television. All the guy would say in his defense was, "I, I, I...just like Michael Jordan." Those around us were less enamored with MJ. They gradually formed a consensus that he should get the ____ out and go back to ______ Jersey where he came from. And apparently, everyone of them need to repeat this (or some derivavative of this statement) every few minutes until the game was over. (Sidenote: Yankees won, Knicks lost).

Man, am I going to miss this place!

Impatience

2008-09-20T14:53:00.003-05:00

Impatience has been a struggle for me of late. I am not saying that I am usually patient when I say this either. I would not say that patience has ever been a particular forte of mine.

Lately, I have been impatient with my daughter. It seems like she can't speak without whining and that is maddening--even to a lifelong whiner like myself.

I have been impatient with my DMin project. It is going fine. At times it is going well, but I can't make it go faster at this point and I am ready to get the last part behind me even if this portion of the project would be more enjoyable if I would just be patient.

I have been impatient with our church plant. I like who we are and where we are as a church, but I feel pressure to stoke the fires a bit in an effort to spark some momentum. It is hard to be content while waiting for a mustard seed to germinate.

I overheard one friend tell another yesterday, "The time when your vision is the clearest is at the beginning and the ending of a project. The further you are from one of those points, the hazier it gets." That's certainly true for my DMin project. It's probably also true for The Grove.

When we got here to Waco, Kara and I poured all of our time into making acquaintances and building relationships. We were patient. Many of the seeds we planted have sprouted and our lives and our little church are the better for it. Then Peyton came. And about the time things settled back down, I started my project--a project for which I am just now about to approach a half-way point (did I mention I was getting impatient?).

Here's the ironic thing: I feel like if the things that are keeping me from approaching life and church planting in the way I did before I started feeling impatient would just wrap up already, I could be more patient. So as I enter a third week of trying to practice simplicity in my life, I am going to practice letting tomorrow worry about itself. If I continue to cite how complicated life has become as the reason I can't do anything well, then I need to simplify my approach to life even if I am unable to put any of the balls I am juggling down just now. So I am going to take my project one week at a time until it is time to start writing again in late October and I am not going to use that project as an excuse to be less of a father or a friend or a minister. (Yeah, easier said than done, but if I say it, I will feel more compelled to do it.) I am also going to make a concerted effort to be more present at home with my kids and my wife. Admittedly, I find that easier with Kara. She doesn't whine or smell like spit-up and can be left at home by herself, but I am going to give it a go with Elizabeth and Peyton too. And as a church planter, I am going to stop worrying about worship services, worship venues, life group multiplication, etc. I am going to start pouring my energy back into people and worrying less about whether or not those relationships are going anywhere.

Thinking this post is too long?

Well, thanks for your patience.

Aunt Nelle

2008-09-19T09:06:00.003-05:00

I had the honor of performing my great aunt's funeral yesterday with my dad. Some funeral eulogies write themselves and Aunt Nelle's certainly did. She was a uniquely special lady.

One of the unique blessings about a life in ministry is that people (in this case, my extended family) invite me to play a role in the midst of life's rarest and most formative moments. These moments always feel like holy ground to me and I always approach them with some trepidation because I know just how unworthy I am to be there, but there is no substitute for the genuineness of a bond that you can form with someone when you are seeing them in their most vulnerable state nor is there anything so heartwarming as to be trusted by those who are in that vulnerable state.

Aunt Nelle was buried in a cemetery in Strawn, Texas. My great grandmother is buried there too, a great grandmother whom I remember quite well--and fondly, I might add. I didn't put it together that she was buried there until I saw Elizabeth climbing on top of a tombstone. I didn't think too much of it until I realized it was the tombstone of the matriarch of the whole family. I quickly removed her and told her that this was where my mother's father's mother was buried, which meant that this was her great great grandmother. She looked at the tombstone with a look of some confusion and asked if I would put her down so that she could play. I guess we're not to the point where that is impressive yet.

2008-09-17T09:18:00.001-05:00

Diapers are the kind of thing that you appreciate the most after one fails to do it's job.

Politicians are not.

Out-of-Towners

2008-09-16T11:42:00.002-05:00

For some reason, we can't seem to keep ourselves in Waco. I rarely make it a week without a quick trip to somewhere. In the past few weeks, I have been in Houston, Arlington, and Austin. This week, I will have to find out where some place named Strawn is for my great aunt's funeral. Next week, I am making a quick trip to Abilene for a couple of ACU Lectureship (now called The Summit) functions. Next month, Kara will spend one week at a renewal for women in ministry and half a week in Louisville for a composition conference. I am probably forgetting something, but it would stress me out to much to think of it even if I could.

I am at home and I still feel like saying, "I just want to go home."

2008-09-15T12:49:00.003-05:00

Hurricane Ike played a role in the death of one of my great aunts. A tree fell on her home in New Caney (north of Houston) during the storm. When she got up to see what had happened, she collapsed and died. Details have been sketchy because there is no electricity there, but I am sad (especially for my mom for whom this was a very special aunt).

-----------------------------------

Beginning in October, The Grove will begin renting a storefront in the Westrock Centre two doors down from where we have been worshiping at Mama Baris. It will be a few days before we have the website fully updated to reflect this change, but Marshall plans to sign our deal this afternoon.

We have decided against committing to meet every Sunday morning for worship. Rather, we will use the space as we try out a number of different scenarios. While we are moving toward a day in which we will hold weekly worship gatherings, we have yet to decide when these worship gatherings should occur. In October and November, we will be holding worship gatherings on a handful of Sunday mornings as well as Wednesday evenings.

2008-09-11T20:55:00.001-05:00

Saw this on the blog of a friend.

Uh, um, hmm...

Do you think Jesus can sue?

The Simple Life

2008-09-11T09:41:00.003-05:00

I committed to a couple of other guys this week to practice simplicity. Ironically, I have had more going on this week than I have in a while. Life can be so complicated, but uncomplicating life can prove to be even more complicated. Perhaps I need to give this simplicity thing a go until it has a chance to sink in to my skin. I doubt thinking about simplifying life qualifies as mastering the spiritual discipline of simplicity.

Here's to my heatlh

2008-09-08T17:13:00.004-05:00

I attended a mentoring group with some fellow ministers today at the home of our mentoring minister. As always, it was a good day. Our mentor challenged us to think about our well-being in terms of our spirituality, vocation, relationships, finances, and health. Why did he have to include health? I am not saying that I have it all together in those other areas of life, but I do at least make a genuine effort in those areas. As far as my health is concerned, I don't. I have never been interested in exercise or eating right (well, eating right is fine--it's ceasing to eat wrong that I have a problem with). It's one of those things I want to care about, but I am not there yet.

Hopefully, however, our mentor just wants us to think about these things and he doesn't expect me to do anything about it. I look forward to any of your thoughts on this matter, but for now, I think I am going to the kitchen for some Frito's and a soft drink.

Session One

2008-09-04T08:44:00.003-05:00

Last night, I met with the team of good folks who will be participating in my project for my doctor of ministry for the first time. I already knew they were great people, but I was especially pleased with the synergy of the team. And I had fun. I had a lot of nervous energy because of how much was riding on this project for me, but I think I worked most of that out and am ready to go.

I am still receiving emails from participants that will influence what the end-product from last night, but the goal of last night (to settle on a working paradigm for the structure of spiritual formation groups) was a success. I was pleased to see the group give heartfelt and incisive comments and that they were unafraid to share the pitfalls they saw in the model we used as a starting place. I was also pleased to see that everyone in the room seemed to buy the idea that spiritual formation and maturation could be fostered by groups such as these.

I have some work to do before then, but I can still hardly wait for next week.

Project Update

2008-09-03T11:32:00.003-05:00

It's come down to tonight. The summer has been a long one. I finished my last two doctoral classes. I drafted a prospectus outline. I wrote my prospectus (which in this case is the first three chapters of my project-thesis). I jumped through some bureaucratic hoops. And tonight, I finally begin that for which the first three chapters build a foundation and on which the last two chapters report, assess, and reflect. In addition to myself, there will be eleven other adults joining me on this journey. Their impact and input will be real and will have a lasting impact on The Grove. That is both exciting and sobering. I have never done anything quite like this, but I have gained a lot of respect for the way I have been led through this process and could see using a similar process to address issues, problems, and dreams for The Grove in the future. I like the idea of including so many people in the process, especially now that I have seen how much work it takes to set people up to accomplish what you are asking of them. Too often, we think we can accomplish big things in committees just by filling those committees with impressive people. That may work from time to time, but this process has taught me a lot about how to facilitate a group through a discernment process without stacking the deck to achieve a predetermined outcome.

So, for the next eight weeks, my project will be under way and in progress. It will conclude on October 22. The ironic bit is that this period will be the least stressful period of the whole process for me (I think), because after October 22, I have to get to writing those last two chapters which are due on December 15.

I am not sure where I am on this marathon, but I have hope that the uphill portion is mostly completed. Keep praying for me though!

2008-09-02T17:29:00.001-05:00

Does this meal mean that you could eat the exact same steak twice?

2008-08-29T08:49:00.003-05:00

Does McCain have a thing for women young enough to be his daughter or what?

And now I am hearing Palin used to appear in beauty contests. He left his first wife for Miss Arizona.

One more thing I noticed during her speech: she says "nucular" too. Must be a governor thing. At least McCain seems to have locked up Alaska's 3 electoral votes. I would laugh, but if Gore had won Alaska, he'd be a lot grayer and possibly even wearing the same belt size as in 2000.

Is this really a common problem?

2008-08-28T21:57:00.003-05:00

2008-08-28T08:50:00.003-05:00

It occurred to me last night that this presidential election pits a man old enough to me my grandfather against a man who is not even old enough to be my father. There is no value judgment there, just an observation.

It then occurred to me that I will be eligible to run for president in 2012. I guess I should start forming my exploratory committee. I am, however, prepared to rule out Joel Osteen as a potential running mate. He gives me the creeps.

2008-08-27T09:33:00.003-05:00

Peyton spends the day at home while I work. It slows me down a tad when he is hungry or needs a diaper change or just wants to be held, but he is just as content to watch me work as anything for now. This won't work long and I realize it, but for now, it feels good to have him at home as opposed to elsewhere.

Looting on the Opening Night in Denver

2008-08-26T13:37:00.002-05:00

Last night we took a family walk. On the walk I saw some pallets of St. Augustine grass laying along the road. I coveted them. Later in the walk, I passed the DR Horton's superintendent for our subdivision. I teased him that I was going to take a few of those pallets. He said, "Fine with me. Go and get some."

Huh?

Well, I did. I didn't feel comfortable getting enough to cover my backyard, but I got several. It was an uncomfortable feeling. I felt like people were gawking at me like I was looting. That said, it filled in some bare spots in my backyard's hodge podge of Bermuda-Buffalo-St. Augustine-crabgrass.

The question now, is will I go again tonight?

God at His Best?

2008-08-25T13:11:00.002-05:00

It seems that there are a lot of folks in my orbit lately who are going through some really heavy stuff.

I have a minister friend who quite suddenly lost his wife just before they would send their youngest child to ACU for the first time.

An elder at the Gatesville Church of Christ, also a dear friend, lost two brothers a little over a week ago. Their funerals were on back-to-back days.

I recently learned that a 25-year-old neighbor (and friend of a friend) will have to undergo some risky open-heart surgery 16 days from now. He's a newlywed. He and his wife are dealing with more than Kara and I ever have.

Another family (a college friend of a friend) is still trying to cope with the fact that their 6-year-old daughter and 3-year-old son both have a genetic disorder that will cause their brains to slowly deteriorate before it eventually takes their lives. Every day, they care for the children they love knowing that they will never see those children reach adulthood.

Stories like these drive me to prayer. They drive me away from prayer too.

It's a push and pull I have always felt in my relationship with God--I am learning to exist in that tension, but it's not always easy. I think we all want God to be obvious to us (and in good ways). Yet, I seem to have a temperament that lends itself to feeling God's presence most when his obviousness is far less clear. Part of that is because the times in which God's presence is felt when it cannot otherwise be seen ring most true to me. It's not that I don't think God is behind many of the good things that happen to me every day, it's just that the sun shines on the wicked as well as the righteous. It's when I can sense God in the most trying times that I get the sense that we are sensing God at his best and most faithful. That doesn't help us much during the trying times where we can't sense him at all and I realize that, but that is also part of the tension in which I am learning to exist: the kind of tension that allows room for people around me to question, doubt, and (at times) even lose faith in God altogether.

I'll be praying for all of those people I mentioned. I don't know what to pray for in all of those circumstances, but I am confident that each of those is a place where I can meet God--and possibly even God at his best and most faithful.

Live from Denver...

2008-08-25T07:49:00.000-05:00

At least the Olympics weren't on every channel.

2008-08-24T20:17:00.000-05:00

Do all kids act the worst on Sundays or is it just preacher's kids?

2008-08-23T07:59:00.002-05:00

Nothing says change like an old white guy.

It's Friday

2008-08-22T13:19:00.006-05:00

This morning, Elizabeth's teacher wasn't in the room when I dropped her off at school. It wasn't a big deal, but when she got there, she said, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize what time it is. It's Friday.

I stopped on the way home to get a Diet Coke at a convenience store. I handed the clerk two dollars. She rang it up and the cash register informed us both that I was owed $50.18. What a deal!

She caught the mistake and said, "I'm sorry, it's Friday."

Hmm...does the fact that it is Friday mean that everyone gets an all around pass for incompetence?

------------------------------------------------------

My lawnmower went kaput this morning.

I bought a new one at Lowe's. This is the time of year to do it. It was on clearance. I got a good deal.

When I got home, I put the oil in the gas tank and the gas in the oil tank. That can't be good.

Oh well, it's Friday.

2008-08-21T13:29:00.001-05:00

Elizabeth wants a dog.

I am close to breaking down and getting her one.

Someone, talk me out of this, please!

Progress at The Grove

2008-08-20T08:29:00.005-05:00

Church planting is an emotional roller coaster. It's hard not to get too up when things are going well and not to get too down when things aren't progressing as fast as I think they should. This past Sunday night was a high.

The Grove met in two Life Groups for the first time. The Coffeys hosted a group in Woodway. We hosted a group at our home in Sendero Springs. That in and of itself is a major milestone that feels good to have reached. It took longer than we had hoped, but we were careful not to move faster than the wonderful people God had sent our way were ready to move. Over the past few weeks, it has become increasingly clear that we were ready. Sunday was the proof. We have been having around 20 (adults and children) at an average Life Group. Sunday, our combined total was 27--a number we have heretofore reached only at our Sunday morning worship gatherings. That may not sound like much, but that is 17 people (18 if you count Peyton!) who didn't move Waco to plant The Grove. Not bad.

The most exciting thing to me about the Life Group in our home was that all three of the other families who joined us Sunday evening live in our subdivision. That was affirming to us because we chose this neighborhood specifically for church planting. We're feeling pretty good about that decision at this point. People outside Sendero Springs are welcome too, but there is something extra-special about a group that lives so close to one another. That said, the families in this group are a diverse lot. They have different political views. They have different faith backgrounds. They have widely variant careers. But we are all neighbors. And we are getting together on Sunday evenings because we believe that God just might be up to something in us and through us at this place and at this moment in time.

This is what I signed up for when I decided to church plant. I didn't do this because I love raising my own support or because I wanted to re-shape worship to my own druthers or because I had always dreamed of living in Waco. I did this because I wanted something like what we had on Sunday night: four families with as many differences as things in common sharing their lives with one another and submitting themselves in community to the Word of God.

Monday night, a man who is part of the Life Group in Woodway called to check up on Kara (who had another round of tests with another doctor who is trying to figure out why Kara's back has been hurting her for over two years). We met he and his wife waiting to be seated at the Texas Roadhouse. Later that week, they were in our home having dinner. That next Sunday, they became the second family to join us for Life Group at our home. They have hardly missed since and they are a tremendous blessing to The Grove. His phone call further encouraged me. Something is starting to happen here. The Grove is taking life right in front of our eyes and I like the shape this church is beginning to take.

We have made so many mistakes and charged down so many blind alleys since moving to Waco that it has, at times, been disheartening. I have bounced between emotions on a far wider scale than I have known before. Some days I am sure that this is the best job in the world and that it is the best environment possible in which to raise my children. Other days I am positive that this is the most foolish thing I have ever done and that we are far more likely to go bankrupt than to plant a healthy and thriving congregation here in Waco. Still, this church is taking shape in ways that remind me every day of the prayers I prayed about The Grove when this was still just an idea and an idealistic plan. As my partner Marshall is fond of saying, that is the kind of thing that reminds you (and assures you) that what you are witnessing is the work of God and not just us. That is important with life in general, but it seems especially appropriate in the work of church planting--because if God's not involved in what we are doing, then this really is crazy!

I am about to start the business of raising support for year 2. So far, we have been able to use tithes and offerings for The Grove's expenses, but we are not yet to a point where we can cover those expenses and my salary too. I am grateful (almost to the point of tears) for the support that has come my way from churches and individuals alike this past year. They could have done anything with that money. They could have given it to any number of charitable causes. Still, they sent it to us and we are about to go back to many of them and ask for more. For some reason, it is harder for me to ask this year than it was last. I still believe in what we are doing and I still believe we are on track to become what we believe God is calling us to be as a church. But it's sobering to realize just how quickly we can burn through other people's money. I pray that God gives us the widsom we need to make the most of every penny.

Pray for us. We can't do this without the help of God.

Parenting

2008-08-19T20:16:00.004-05:00

When I was in high school, our church had small group meetings of just teenagers. We would meet at the home of youth sponsors and almost all of my memories of those groups are good. For some reason, a memory of one of those meetings hit me today. One of the sponsors made a comment about how surprised they were that being a good parent was difficult. His admission of surprise surprised me. How hard could it be? You tell a kid no, you spank the kid if they disobey, and you pay for everything. What else is there?

But I am finding parenting to be very hard--hard like golf in fact. It is easy enough to know what you want to do as a parent, but it's amazing how few of the things you try actually get the job done. I just keep shanking balls in to the ruff or getting into a sandtrap-quagmire. I am just thankful that kids go through so many stages. I think God made it so that as soon as you are ready to throw the towel in during one particularly difficult stage, the kid shifts into another stage that, while just as difficult, re-offers you the illusion that you might be up to the challenge.

Right now, I can count on the fact that I am going to have an all out battle with Elizabeth every meal time, every nap time, every time I brush her teeth, every bath time, and (the biggie) every bedtime. That is a few too many big battles to be a part of my everyday life and I am going insane. (And I look at my sweet little boy and wonder, how did a baby as sweet as Elizabeth turn into this defiant 3-year-old. And is there anything I can do to keep Peyton from going through this same stage?) The worst part for me is that I find myself losing my cool quicker and quicker with Elizabeth. I raise my voice too fast. I am too rough with her when I am putting her into timeout. And I am guilty of thinking things like, "Maybe someone doesn't have to drunk to beat their kids!" Luckily, Kara maintains perspective because if it were up to me I'd just give the kid some iced animal crackers and a Sprite and set her in front of the TV until she fell asleep. And what truly amazes me is that there are women everywhere who do this all day every day with more than one child. I don't know whether to give them undying admiration or unlimited pity.

I hate to disappoint any of you that are expecting me to make some profound move as though I was just setting you up for some new brilliant insight. There isn't one coming. Parenting is hard. It's worth it--there are some great moments along the way. But I just needed to rant.

End rant.

Project Update

2008-08-18T16:51:00.003-05:00

As predicted, my blogging has slowed considerably since beginning my work on my project-thesis this summer. It has been a busy summer. Late last week, I turned in the final draft of my prospectus (which included 3 of my 5 chapters--the chapters I have to write before I can begin my project). I will begin my project on September 3 and it will run through October 22 at the Robinson Church of Christ. I am currently working on the curriculum for those eight 90-minute sessions. This is not a sprint, it is a marathon. That is what they told us repeatedly in the project-thesis seminar. Still, I have passed one of the most significant checkpoints on that marathon and that feels good.

Balancing Word and Table

2008-08-14T08:12:00.002-05:00

As we first began meeting for worship gatherings at The Grove, I had an elevation of the table above the Word in mind. The sacramental nature of the Eucharist—a time in which God has promised to do something—seemed an obvious priority over the time allotted for Marshall or I to deliver a sermon. Yet, there is something important about preceding the time in which God has promised to do something new/again with a proclamation of why what God did in the past matters in the present. By rooting the Eucharist in such a proclamation allows the Eucharist to be the time in which God draws us into his future.

The hope in balancing the Word and the table is that the repeated rhythm of hearing God’s actions on behalf of his people in the past being tied to the lives of God’s people in the present and the observance of a meal in which God draws us with the body and blood of his son into his glorious future will form a people who see the world with eschatological lenses. Instead of seeing things only as they are or have been in the past, we instead are being formed to see things as they might be once they are transformed by the redemptive power of God.

One of the beauties of being formed in this way is that we learn to balance our hopes for ourselves and for the world. Some people naturally feel more optimistic about their own potential for transformation than they do the transformation of the world. If unchecked, that natural tendency could produce a Christian who engages the world from a posture of arrogance and self-importance. Conversely, others feel more naturally optimistic about God’s desire to transform the world than they feel capable of being transformed themselves. If unchecked, this natural tendency could produce a Christian who sits on the sidelines while God’s “A-team” works with God to transform the world.

The time we spend hearing the Word and gathering around the table is supposed to form us into what God wants us to be. The surprise is that although they do in some ways function independently from one another, they have their greatest power to form a Christ-like people when they are working together in balance.

Admittedly, these are preliminary observations and they haven't been fleshed out much. I am interested to read any feedback or thoughts you have as you consider the relationship of Word and table in your church.

2008-08-12T17:28:00.003-05:00

Can I still be a man if my favorite Olympic event is gymnastics?

I am willing to swear that I can't tolerate those human interest stories about every athlete before they compete, if that helps me out at all?

2008-07-12T19:54:00.004-05:00

It was three years ago today that I first laid eyes and lips on the girl that would change me and the way I would see the world forever. And I am not just being dramatic. No one could ever replace Elizabeth in my heart. Of course, I think my girl is the prettiest, the smartest, and the sweetest (and if we are being honest here, the most stubborn) girl in the world. But the best part about having a daughter is seeing the way she looks at me. No one has ever looked at me quite like that and it still melts me every time. I am not a perfect dad. I get too angry too fast. I would too often rather read or do my own thing than play with her upstairs or outside. And I let her watch way too much TV, but she loves just the same it's a beautiful thing.

Elizabeth, you are one of the greatest sources of joy my life has ever known. God has blessed you with gifts that others will only wish they have. And you have the heart and the courage to use them for more than just yourself. It is an honor to be your father. And though I tell you all the time, there is nothing that could express the way I feel about you more than just to say, "I love you."

Happy 3rd Birthday, precious girl. You're Daddy thinks you are perfect!

2008-07-07T21:43:00.001-05:00

Seven months ago, $174 was too much money to spend on replacing the ice maker in my refrigerator.

Seven months later, in the middle of July, that seems like quite a bargain.

Let there be ice!

2008-07-02T08:59:00.004-05:00

My first negative thought after learning that my first child would be a daughter was something like, "Oh, my, this girl is going to let out high pitched, brain-piercing squeals!" These sea mammal-like squeals have long been a pet peeve of mine, so this was not a prophetic word of hope as these words formed inside my head.

And today, these prophetic words have been fulfilled. For as I sit inside my home office trying to read (well, now I am blogging, but I was reading and will soon be again), Elizabeth is pounding on my door and squealing at such a high pitch that I am sure my grandparents couldn't even hear her. Good thing the door isn't made of glass.

My Day as a Movie Star

2008-07-01T20:53:00.004-05:00

Okay, so I was just an extra.

I spent 2.5 hours on a movie set today so that I could walk past an actress into a chiropractic clinic during four takes.

If I am lucky, I will get 15 seconds of frame.

7 Beautiful Words in Writing a Thesis

2008-06-30T06:50:00.001-05:00

"...beyond the scope of this present study."

Narrative Substructure

2008-06-28T14:20:00.002-05:00

One of the rabbits I am chasing as a piece of my thesis is the idea of narrative substructure in 1 Corinthians. We tend to think of Paul's letters as being discursive texts, whereas the gospels and Acts function as narrative. Yet, there is a growing awareness amongst the guild of new testament scholars that Paul's discursive text only works (that is to say, his argument can be followed) because of a narrative substructure. In 1 Corinthians, the message of the cross functions as that narrative substructure. Paul constantly appeals to "the cross" or to "Christ crucified" to fuel the momentum of his argument. He does not retell the story, but without some knowledge of that story, a reader would be hard pressed to follow Paul's train of thought.

To some degree, it is not unlike a preacher who shares a story to illustrate an idea, only, Paul is using ideas to illustrate a story. For Paul, it isn't a systematic collection of ideas and principles that guides him in addressing the problems of churches in cities like Corinth. Rather, it is the story of Christ--specifically, the story of the cross.

Similarly, as Christians, the story of the cross serves as a narrative substructure to our lives. That is largely what baptism is about. Through baptism, we enter into the life, death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus (or in other words, we are immersed into the story of the cross). Likewise, the Eucharist invites us to partake of Christ's broken body and spilled blood as a means of transforming the way we look at something as simple as daily nourishment into an act of embracing a posture of laying one's own life down for the world (just as Jesus does on the cross). Both baptism and the Eucharist are unabashed in their intention of providing a new foundational narrative upon which we are to live our lives as followers of Christ.

So Jesus says to his disciples, "Take up your cross and follow me." That's important. But it's just as important what he doesn't say. He doesn't say, "Follow me and you will find seven keys to improving your life." He doesn't say, "Follow me and all of your worldly troubles will pale in comparison to the glory I have made possible for you." He says, "Follow me as I give my life away for the world and do likewise." It's too tempting to massage the words of Jesus until they hit just the right spot. But if we remember the story of the cross and how it permeates every word of the New Testament, we are unlikely to be as flippant about the blessings that it promises and we are likely to see that the wisdom of God can only be seen through the lens of the cross. It may be a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to the Greeks, but to us who are being saved, it is the power of God.

Worship Space

2008-06-25T10:04:00.005-05:00

Lately, I have spent considerable time thinking about how we might best utilize our space for worship at Mama Baris. On the one hand, we have a great deal of freedom to rearrange the tables and chairs in the way that suits us best. The people there have been very accommodating to us. On the other hand, there are so many tables! We have considered seating people at the tables for worship, but doing so limits us on how many people can sit on the worship side of the room (we use half of a long rectangular room for worship and the other half for a fellowship meal following worship). I think we have some advantages available to us in this setting. The Eucharist, a common meal, is the central symbol of our faith and we are coming together to share that meal in a place where people share meals all day everyday. We also have the ability to incorporate the language of the tabernacle because this is not our permanent worship space, but a place where we are camping out for a time.

But I am curious about what others think. Are there symbolic and/or spatial advantages that The Grove has in worshiping in a pizzeria that we have yet to tap? I'd love to read any comments in that regard.

2008-06-17T13:19:00.002-05:00

Some day I am going to be engrossed in another project and I am going to miss having a nearly three-year-old daughter who interrupts me every few minutes just to tell me she loves me.

Libraries

2008-06-16T13:08:00.003-05:00

I am getting to know the Baylor library today. I am thrilled to have the resources I need at my fingertips, but I must say, my day in the Baylor library has filled me with ACU pride. ACU's library may not have as many resources (although that is only a hunch), but all of the theological resources are in one place (be they journals/periodicals or monographs) and every cubicle is equipped with a power source. I will forgive Baylor's library for its aesthetic inferiority, but it's time to join the 21st century my dear Baptist friends!

And ACU has Craig Churchill, Theological Librarian. He is like a walking computer resource that can send you in more fruitful directions faster than anyone or anything I have ever encountered. When I asked if Baylor had a theological librarian, I just got a dumb look and a shrug of the shoulders. At least I still have access to Craig from Waco if I need him.

Endings

2008-06-07T20:25:00.005-05:00

If anyone is interested in following the shooting of an independent film, my friend Chris Hansen is filming his full length drama, Endings, this month. You can follow his progress on his blog, Making Movies in Flyover Country.

He is graciously granted me permission to come and be a wallflower on the set one day later this month. I can't wait; it's something I have always wanted to see.

2008-06-06T11:08:00.003-05:00

My brain hurts, but after a week in my project thesis seminar, I have a coherent outline for my prospectus that is due July 21. My project will be to develop a model for spiritual formation groups as a long-term practice of The Grove. While I had to give up a few of the rabbits I wanted to go chasing, my secondary advisor has really helped me craft the neatest and simplest plan to wind up with the result I want most (you can decide whether that is to graduate or to put together a useful model for spiritual formation groups at The Grove...because I haven't).

The biggest hurdle I will have in this process will be in developing the prospectus. I will blog when I have time and when I feel the itch, but you could accurately suspect that blogging will continue to be slow until August.

Confession

2008-06-05T21:11:00.001-05:00

I am now a Mac guy.

Next week: a soul patch and messy hair.

Dubya's M&Ms

2008-05-29T11:49:00.004-05:00

Kara's dad is a congressman that represents Humble, Kingwood, Beaumont, and a few spots in between.

After Hurricane Rita, he hitched a ride with the President on Air Force One to survey the damage.

Ted gave Kara this box of peanut M&M's with the Presidential Seal on them that he was given while on Air Force One.

Elizabeth said they tasted very good. Kara found her eating them in her closet yesterday.

Somehow, I like that box of M&M's better already.

What to Do With All of This Di-LION-otter-ENTP Stuff

2008-05-28T17:05:00.002-05:00

I have a love-hate relationships with personality instruments. I find them very helpful in understanding other people, but I rarely like what I see when I read over what my tests indicate about me. How an instrument can so accurately assess my personality and so articulately describe me is beyond me. I suspect that there may be some Zodiac-like generalities about many of these descriptions that would make anyone nod their head about some side of themselves, but then again, I score fairly consistently on all instruments and most of them come back with the same assessment.

Apparently, I have a seriously dominant personality. I don't feel dominant. I don't crave dominance. But I always score way high on dominance and high (but not as high) on the social elements tested. On the DISC, I score highest on dominance with a strong showing on influence as well. According to the DISC, steadiness and conscientiousness are not significant parts of my makeup. It bothers be that the two I have little of are the only two that sound unequivocally like good things.

In the animal kingdom bit, I score 100 out of 100 as a lion (which I think corresponds to choleric on other tests) and a 73 as otter (which corresponds to sanguine). I score an 8 out of 100 on the golden retriever (and a 46 on the beaver if you're keeping track). Basically that means, I am so lionish that I not only have leadership skills but that I tend toward being demanding and egotistical. It also means that I have so little golden retriever that I can be impulsive, impetuous, and hypertense. Neat!

I like the Myers-Briggs type indicator because at least it is less evaluative of my personality. I am ENTP (although I am barely a T; in many ways I identify more with the F side of the equation) if anyone is keeping score.

Anyway, I am not sure what all to make of that, but apparently the Holy Spirit has a big job in turning me into a man of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control. At least the Spirit has already been at work on me for quite a while and I have had enough encouragement and affirmation from my sweet wife to feel assured that this sanctification bit can actually happen.

But seriously, I would rather just get a personality transplant and not have to work so hard at being like Jesus!

2008-05-27T07:50:00.003-05:00

I have written several academic papers lately for my summer courses. I find that when writing becomes a chore, some of the fun in blogging tends to evaporate. But a few things bear mentioning from the last few days.

On Friday evening, Elizabeth caught her first fish with a strong assist from Marshall. She is still talking about it and as soon as Kara downloads the pictures from her camera, I will post it for you to see. She hasn't figured out how to exaggerate its size yet. If anything, the fish has gotten smaller in her tellings of the stories.

Last night, The Grove participated in a block party for our subdivision on our street. We met some neighbors, reconnected with a few others, and had a great time. I really like our neighborhood. We have great neighbors, most of whom are genuinely interested in getting to know one another. That makes for a pleasant place to live in my book.

This coming Sunday, The Grove will meet for a second worship gathering at Mama Baris on Hewitt Drive. Pray for us as we continue to make baby steps toward the realization of the dream God is helping us to unfold.

GO! SPURS, GO!!!

2008-05-19T18:00:00.002-05:00

Now, if only the Spurs can overcome the Lakers and the officials that work for the league that is desperate for a Lakers-Celtics Finals.

2008-05-16T08:14:00.003-05:00

Everyone is here.

Everything is quiet in the house.

I can't decide whether or not I should be extremely thankful or extremely worried.

Peyton's First Conversation with Cousin Asa

2008-05-15T10:07:00.005-05:00

"So, Peyton, I see you have a big sister too. Seeing as how you have two weeks more experience than me, can you share any survival tips?"

"Well, Asa, you can always try to show her your muscles...

"But if that doesn't scare her off, I recommend just crying as loud as you can and hoping for the best. Uh oh, here they come. Cry, now! Quick"

"I don't know about you, Peyton, but crying wears me out."

2008-05-13T15:16:00.003-05:00

Some things just happen.

Peyton is asleep in an infant seat to my right. Elizabeth is resting on my shoulder watching Dora on the TV to my left. I am working on an academic paper on the computer in front of me.

I didn't plan this; I don't recommend it, but it's working for now.

2008-05-08T21:18:00.003-05:00

I may have just attained my highest level of incompetence.

I have two last classes in my D.Min. program.

Today, I wrote a paper on sacramental permeability.

It might have been easier if I understood what sacramental permeability meant.

A Grove Update

2008-05-07T14:57:00.003-05:00

Our first Sunday at Mama Baris was a great moment in the budding life of The Grove. 26 of us gathered to worship God at our new favorite pizza parlor. We are already planning and looking forward to our next worship gathering on June 1.

Our Life Group remains the lifeblood of our church. The culture of our church is one that has formed and continues to form around tables, on sofas, and in seeing our children on the backyard swing set. It allows us to be a who more than a what, a community more than a liturgy, and a family more than fellow congregants.

We continue to make better and stronger connections with various non-profit organizations in the Waco area. We have yet to organize a church-wide day of service, but we are beginning to wrap our mind around how we can best make community service a natural part of life at The Grove.

In the background of The Grove, we have always intended to form formation groups. Formation groups are groups of three or four individuals of the same sex who commit to one another to meet on a weekly basis for 24 week to grapple with Scripture, the challenges of life as a disciple of Jesus, and the nature of prayer and other spiritual disciplines. Next Tuesday, Kara will begin her first formation group with three other women. The Coffeys and I each hope to be a part of a formation group before long.

All in all, we continue to make baby steps. It is not all that different than watching trees grow. It's hard to notice the difference from one day to the next, but, even just four months in, real growth and real progress have undoubtedly been made.

I thank all of you who have been and will continue to pray for The Grove.

The Lion and the Lamb

2008-05-03T07:43:00.006-05:00

There is an old saying, at least around here, that March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. The saying refers to wind. The beginning of March is supposed to be windy, but the spring air is supposed to be peaceful by the time April rolls around. And then there is Spring 2008.

I have had to replant one tree, retighten the brace on another, and brace the other two trees in our yard. Litter has constantly jumped our back fence or nestled itself onto our front porch. And at present I am watching as the north side of our privacy fence is swaying in the wind like a suspension bridge in a disaster video. And it's May.

Part of the problem is due to the fact that we live in a subdivision that sits on top of what was a cornfield two growing seasons ago. The tallest trees in the area aren't much bigger than the ones I planted myself in January. Plus, we're surrounded by three empty lots. Basically, we couldn't be in a windier spot for the windiest spring in my memory.

In Scripture, wind is often metaphorically employed to personify the movement of the Spirit. And I wonder, how many times the Spirit has moved in like a lion over a dormant winter landscape without being perceived as such. Most of our churches are very different than our new house. They are surrounded with privacy fences called memberships, tall trees called ministers, elders, and deacons, and high walls called tradition. They are also surrounded by many other churches that, while different in doctrine and personality, have the same kinds of fences, trees, and walls to block the wind. The result is that even on the windiest of days, the Spirit seems only to enter in with a gentle breeze and to go out as a lamb.

And then, there are neophyte churches like The Grove (a comical name in this regard since our "trees," while planted, have yet to send their taproots into the native soil). And from where we stand, surrounded by next to nothing, the wind is roaring.

At times, I find myself a bit skeptical--not that the Spirit would ever choose to move, but that we are ascribing everything we do and experience to the working of the Spirit in our eagerness to reassure ourselves that we are aligned with God. But what if the only reason I find the Spirit-as-Lion to be such a strange ~~creature~~ being is that, to this point in my life, I have only witnessed the movement of the Spirit when that movement had been slowed down by the fences, trees, and walls of the established churches from which I have come?

If so, can our newly planted trees survive these roaring winds with the porous fence we have been able to erect in four short months? Have we who have been called by God to be the initial core leaders of this congregation we call The Grove developed the kind of root system that will allow us to dance in the mighty winds of God without being uprooted or snapped in two? And assuming we do survive this critical stage in our growth, will we inevitably use our mature grove to slow down the God's winds? Does the metaphor break down there? Maybe someone can help me take it a bit further.

Thoughts?

Derby Time

2008-05-02T09:05:00.005-05:00

In 2003, Kara and I witnessed our first Kentucky Derby season in Louisville. We never quite caught the fever the way much of the town did. We only went to a few of the events and never even attempted to see the Derby itself. Yet, I do remember wanting to fit in and so I altered my look a bit, you know to try and embrace the Bluegrass spirit.

I guess I am feeling a bit nostalgic, because these next pictures were taken this morning.

My impersonation of Daniel Day Lewis in There Will Be Blood.

2008-05-01T20:21:00.003-05:00

I spent the better part of today preparing for our first worship gathering at Mama Baris. We are going to use some audiovisual equipment Sunday for the first time, which seems to just suck time out of my day like nothing else. It has been nice to spend four months focused on things other than the logistics of worship. I am pretty excited about Sunday morning, but there is a part of me that will miss our Life Group-only phase (especially when we finally start meeting for worship gatherings every week). It is too easy to let church become a production, a place to go, and something that has a definite beginning and ending. It is hard to refashion church into a mission, a people sent out, and an ongoing journey that does not begin or end on Sunday morning. These past few months without a weekly worship gathering have been the easiest it has ever been for me to conceive of church in this preferred, albeit more difficult, way.

Here's for hoping (and praying) we can take a bit of that with us into this next phase of our collective existence at The Grove.

One of Those Moments

2008-04-29T18:51:00.001-05:00

Elizabeth got in trouble at school today. She failed to show respect to her teacher. After sassing Mrs. Darla one too many times, Elizabeth made her first trip to see the director of the preschool. If she is as similar to her father as I am afraid she is, this will not be her last trip to the "principle's office" either. I made routine visits to see the school disciplinarian throughout my time in school. In fact, 12th grade was the first grade I did not pay such a visit. In other words, I am prepared for it to take a long time for what I told Elizabeth today to sink in. I told her, "You will show respect to your teachers and if you don't, I want them to tell me about it. And when they do, Elizabeth, you should know that no matter how much trouble you get into at school, you will be in even more trouble when you get home." She cried the whole way home.

The surreal part of this to me was not that I was a part of this conversation. The surreal part was which side of this conversation I found myself. That was a first. In siding with the teacher, I could feel myself crossing over to the dark side (or what teachers would probably term the light side) even though at heart I am still very much a smart mouthed brat in need of an attitude check myself. I just hope my daughter shows a tad more malleability than her father did in this regard.

Asa Lloyd Alexander

2008-04-23T23:45:00.003-05:00

Peyton already has a younger cousin. My sister-in-law, Josephine, gave birth to Asa Lloyd Alexander today. My details are a bit sketchy since I am a guy and so is my brother, Brent--the proud papa, and we were the ones who spoke to each other on the phone. From what I understand, he weighed 8 lbs and was 20 inches long. Asa is Brent and Jo's second child. Eleanor is almost 19 moths old--she had no idea what is about to happen to her world!

The only picture I have to this point was taken on a phone and while I know some people manage to get their photos off of phones and on to their computers, I am apparently not there yet.

Lloyd is the name of our grandfather. Brent's middle name is Bryon which is our grandfather's middle name too, so Brent decided to pass on the rest of Papaw's name to his son, which I think is awesome.

As for Asa--I think they just liked it. Still, Asa was a king of Judah who stood out because he was a godly reformer (a rare trait in Judah's kings).

Asa did what was right in the sight of the LORD, as his father David had done.
1 Kings 15:11

When it comes to praising the heirs of David in Kings, that is as good as it gets, and such praise is rare at that. Maybe if they keep at it, I can expect nephews named Hezekiah and Josiah to go with him. Okay, maybe not.

King Asa is also remembered for his continual warfare against Israel and for naming his son Jehoshaphat, so I am all for Asa Lloyd Alexander making his own path in the world.

Welcome, little guy, I can't wait to lay my eyes and lips on you.

The Best Days of My Life Are Wearing Me Out

2008-04-22T12:26:00.004-05:00

Elizabeth has always been a bit of a Daddy's girl, but these last two weeks have been insane. I feel like I have a shadow lately...and a disobedient one at that. I know this will pass and I am not seeking sympathy, but my nerves are getting a bit frayed. Between a new baby has trouble getting comfortable enough to sleep at all until midnight, a demanding little girl who gets up around 6, and an 8-12 start for the Astros, I am not getting much sleep and I function poorly on little sleep. I am easily distracted, impatient with Elizabeth, and am even more bothered than usual by the seeming impossibility for a closer to earn a save in a Astros uniform.

And then, with all that said, I have had some of the best moments in my life thus far during these same two weeks. I have never felt more pride than I did when I saw Elizabeth holding Peyton and kissing him over and over again on his head. I don't remember ever seeing something quite as sweet as seeing Kara hold her new little man and delighting herself in all things Peyton. And I have had more than a few chances to bond with Elizabeth one-on-one in the backyard, in the swimming pool at Baylor, and riding bicycles. Kara and I have even managed to enjoy a few good laughs together that, for some reason, I think I will remember forever.

So I am stuck between wishing that this time of turbulence will be over soon and a feeling that I had better soak up the rareness and goodness of this once-in-a-lifetime period of life while I still can. I have no qualms, however, in wishing that the Astros would get hot and make this frustrating start an obnoxiously overused storyline come playoff time.

2008-04-21T13:54:00.004-05:00

The first few days after bringing Peyton home, we did our best to explain Peyton's crying to Elizabeth. Kara would tell her, "It is the way he talks. He's telling us he's hungry or needs a new diaper or he wants us to pick him up."

Earlier, Peyton was throwing a long tantrum. He seems to have an irritable stomach. Pair that with some impressive lung strength and you've got some serious noise pollution. In the midst of the mind numbing madness, I finally asked Kara, "What's his deal? Why is he crying?"

Elizabeth said, "Don't worry, Daddy. That's the way he talks."

Duly noted, Elizabeth. Thanks.

The Grove at Mama Baris

2008-04-18T14:21:00.002-05:00

The Grove may have found its first home for worship gatherings. We have been talking with folks at a couple of restaurants on Hewitt Drive about holding our worship gatherings in their restaurant before they open for lunch on Sunday. Today, we received a green light from Mama Baris, an Italian bistro/pizzeria. It's quid pro quo; we get to use their meeting room for worship and then we stay for lunch. Can't beat that!

As it stands, at least for the moment, we will meet for our first "preview" worship service there on May 4th and meet there the first Sunday of the month throughout the summer. Our current plan is to start meeting for worship every Sunday morning as school begins in the fall of 2008. Mama Baris has a good location for us and can seat up to 120 people, which gives us plenty of room to grow before we have to start looking for a new home. While we have raised a significant sum of money toward our church planting effort, we do not yet have a budget for renting facilities. If all of this pans out, it will be a tremendous answer to prayer.

On another exciting note, May 4th also stands to be the day we will birth our second Life Group. We are extremely excited to be entering new phases in the life of our new church. Keep us in your prayers.

A Week Ago Today

2008-04-16T07:55:00.004-05:00

I went to bed last Tuesday night very sleepy with a sore pinkie toe. Fortunately, however, I wouldn't get much rest.

Kara woke me up the first time at 11:30 PM and told me that her back was hurting so bad she could hardly handle it. I asked her if there was anything I could do for her. She didn't know of anything. I rolled back over and went back to sleep.

Kara woke me up the second time at 1:20 AM. The pain was not going away. I asked her if she was having contractions. She said she didn't know. I offered to run her bath. She accepted. I went back to bed. A few minutes later she came out of the bathroom and said that the bath did not help. "I am going to walk around the house for a while and decide whether or not I need to go into the hospital." I rolled back over and went back to sleep.

Kara says that she tried to roust me from bed at 2:00 AM so that I could take her to the hospital. I must have been in a deep sleep. I have no memory of this whatsoever. When I didn't wake up immediately, she changed her mind. I was supposed to do my great great aunt's funeral on Wednesday and she didn't want me to be up all night the night before if this wasn't the real thing. I'd have told her not to worry about that, but she did. I guess that shows the kind of woman I am married to...even in labor she thinks of herself last.

Kara says that she then went back downstairs and watched television while playing a game of online spades. After the game, she tried to climb back in bed. A (what we now know for sure was a) contraction or two later, Kara shook me awake and said we were going to the hospital. For some reason, I could not get rolling. I wasn't nervous. I wasn't making stupid mistakes because I was so excited. I just couldn't get my body to wake up and get with the program. Forty-five minutes later (embarrassing, I know), we pulled out of our driveway. I thought I had managed to get all the stuff Kara wanted to take to the hospital plus all of the stuff Elizabeth would need for her day of school once it started at 9:30 AM. We had barely made it out of our subdivision when Elizabeth informed me that we did not have her nap pad. Kara instructed me to go back and grab it. Back at the house, I grabbed the nap pad (and the suitcase Kara had packed for the hospital).

Meanwhile, Kara and I had been in discussion about where to head first. I had been unable to get Marshall on his cell phone. That is the way of cell phones. Kara first said we should just take Elizabeth with us to the hospital and let her sleep in the stroller. I told her that I would rather deliver the baby myself on the side of the road in our car than with Elizabeth present in the labor and delivery room. So I drove first to Marshall's house. Normally, Kara drives when we're in a hurry. I had to do it this time. And if you're wondering, Kara's abilities as a back seat driver are in no way hampered by the excruciating pains of labor. What a woman!

After waking up the Coffey house at 4:00 AM and dropping off Elizabeth and her stuff, we were free to make a dash for the hospital. We had to go in through the ER and I got to push Kara in a wheelchair as fast as I could across the hospital to the elevators and up to the 5th floor. Despite a sore toe, that was fun. I had always wanted to do that.

Up on the fifth floor, we started checking in. They confirmed that she was in labor and the next thing I knew we were in the room and waiting for the anesthesiologist to come in and give her an epidural. When the guy finally came, we were very happy to see him. Normally, I would have liked this guy. He made a joke about everything he did. Some of them were funny. But I also knew it was the kind of humor that Kara rarely appreciated and I doubted labor made such things funnier to her. I made a point of not laughing and making faces at Kara as though I too disapproved at his attempts at levity. That is not to say that I stopped cracking jokes myself, only that if I was going to get in trouble for bad jokes, I wanted them to be my bad jokes.

As soon as Kara had her epidural, I got on the phone. I had my doubts about my ability to be in Hamilton at 11:30 for the funeral I was supposed to officiate. I made a few phone calls and after waking up Jim Hall, my successor at the Gatesville Church, I had my man. That was a real relief. I was even more relieved later when I heard through the grapevine that he did an excellent job on almost no notice. Thanks Jim.

As soon as my parents got there (they were the first people I called to get an idea for who to preach the funeral in my stead) the nurse said, "Okay, it's time to push!"

Since we never got to that point in labor with Elizabeth, this was new from here on out. I half-expected Kara to push a few times and be done. I wasn't prepared to watch her endure ninety minutes of pushing. I am sure there are many people who have had to push longer. They have my sympathy too.

By 10:30 AM, I was cutting Peyton's umbilical cord and he was being held by his mama. He was huge. The on-call doctor first told us he thought Peyton was going to weigh 7 and a half pounds. As Kara pushed, the nurse guessed at least 8. Peyton finally tipped the scales at 9 lbs, 1 oz. Atta boy!

Now that Peyton's a week old, he is a lot better looking than he was last Wednesday. His head looks human. His head was the shape of a bicycle helmet when he came out. His birth rash is gone and he has a nice pigment to his skin. And I can't look at him without thinking of Kara's dad. He's a real mama's boy--although he is warming up to me finally. If I had to sum him up, I'd have to say he's perfect!

Thanks be to God.

2008-04-15T22:03:00.001-05:00

I weigh 105 lbs more than the Biggest Loser.

That can't be good.

The Day Before Peyton's Big Day

2008-04-14T10:10:00.005-05:00

It was a beautiful day--nice and warm. I got Elizabeth's inflatable swimming pool out and started airing it up. Elizabeth lost patience with the airing up process and went back inside to watch Little Bear (a cartoon about a naked bear cub that lives with clothed bear relatives). When Elizabeth decided to come back into the back yard, she couldn't get the back door open. I think she must have locked it in her attempt to get the door open. Regardless, I noticed through the glass door that she was crying and reaching out for me.

When I realized the doorknob was locked, I tried to talk her through unlocking it. She is frighteningly adept at opening dead bolts, but she had more trouble with the locks on the knobs. I told her to go open the front door and that I would be right there. She ran to the front door. Afraid that she would just run out into the front yard and into the street, I hurried to the front yard. As I ran (gracefully, no doubt), I managed to catch the lip of the driveway with my pinkie toe. I can't for the life of me figure out how I only caught concrete with that one toe, but I did and the pain was intense. I hopped to the front door uttering a few words I had forgotten I knew under my breath.

When I got to the door, it was already unlocked but I couldn't find Elizabeth. I called for her inside and got nothing. I called for her outside and got nothing. I went back inside yelling her name. Still nothing. Finally, I heard her screaming from the garage. When I hobbled over to the garage and opened the door, she came running out in a panic. Apparently, when I wasn't at the front door, she decided to the try the garage and had shut herself in inside the garage in the dark.

About the time Elizabeth calmed down a little, I stole my first peek at my toe. The best way I know to describe it is that I scalped it. I had torn the skin off the tip of my pinkie toe and it was covered in blood that I had somehow only dripped in the kitchen and not on the carpet. Elizabeth was almost over her traumatic experience until she saw my toe and then she started back up again. I could tell she really wanted to be helpful, but mostly she just kept hanging onto my legs and she kept stepping on the toe. I wrapped it in a paper towel and used one of the rubber bands we use for her hair to hold it on. I picked her back up (still screaming) and hobbled up the stairs where Kara was managing to sleep through all of it.

Needless to say, it was difficult to explain to her as I tried to pawn Elizabeth off on her so that I could rummage through our first aid boxes looking for something that might help me stop the bleeding and bandage my toe. What I found out in that process is that there is nothing you can do when you scalp the end of your toe. There is no band-aid, gauze pad, or paper towel/pink rubber band concoction that would stay in place on the end of my nub of a pinkie toe. So I just replaced the paper towel with a gauze pad, reaffixed the pink rubber band and Elizabeth and I went back outside to swim.

Little did I know that I would spend almost all of the next 24 hours on my feet in shoes. And the worst part of it all, no matter who they would send into Kara's birthing suite (doctors, nurses, anesthesiologists, etc.), none of them gave a flip about my toe! But now and I getting into Wednesday...and I will save that story for tomorrow.

A Little Bit More About Peyton

2008-04-13T08:16:00.006-05:00

Peyton is the kind of baby who...

thinks all is right with the world until someone puts him down. He then, seemingly, gets his feelings so hurt that he is hard to console even after you pick him back up.
sleeps all day and cries all night.
tolerates the tornadic activity around him that is his big sister well.
will always have to correct the spelling of his name. It's spelled like the QB, not the RB.
did not come out of the womb ready to play quite as rowdy as his sister was hoping.

Peyton and his Nana.

Peyton and his Teddy.

Peyton trying to learn theology via osmosis in Uncle Zach's lap. Don't knock it. It must be how I learned theology, because I certainly didn't do much of what we see Zach doing here.

Preston and Elizabeth sit with Peyton. Preston is the son of two of our good friends from Gatesville, John and Amy.