Mountain Time

I am on my way home to Miami from a few days in the North Carolina mountains.  Gabe spent 3 days at Camp Tekoa in Hendersonville, his first time away at sleepover camp.  Not surprisingly, the highlight was the zipline across the lake, though he also mentioned swimming, climbing trees, praying and talking about Jesus, hide and seek and staying up late with his cabin mates.  Good times…

While Gabe was at camp, I went with a good friend to the Lake Junaluska Conference Center for a couple of days of personal renewal.  In between a little work and sending emails when we had wifi, we also did some catching up, reading, walking, praying, eating out, and playing tennis in the rain.  Again, good times…

So today as I drove down I-26 and then I-95, heading back to Florida, I have to confess feeling a bit of sadness…because I really, really like the mountains.  The beauty of the trees…the clouds hovering near the ground at times…the light rain storms…the coolness of the air at night…the rhythms of ascent and descent as you move along the curves of the earth…the murmurs and flow of streams and rivers…the sounds of birds and insects and other wildlife.  There is an abundance of nature all around even in the towns and villages which I so appreciate…

Being in the mountains is life-giving.  It quiets my soul.  I feel my body relax and breathe more deeply.  I feel closer to nature…even closer to God…

The urban, concrete jungle of Miami is a LONG way from anything that resembles a mountain, lol….(sigh)….oh well.  Beaches and oceans are nice too.  And you can’t beat 75 degrees in January…

But mountain time is good for me.  Need to find more of it…

Birthday Blog

37.  There was a time when that sounded really old to me.  Not so much anymore, lol…

It was a beautiful day here on the island.  I spent the morning at the beach with the boys – snorkeling lessons for Michael, then bocce ball and searching for starfish and sand dollars at low tide.  We then enjoyed a lazy afternoon of reading before a boat ride to the next island over for a sunset dinner at a dockside restaurant (with ice cream cones afterwards of course).  The evening ended with the cool breeze of a boat ride on the Sea of Abaco in the bright light of an almost full moon.  A great day….

Birthdays are always opportunities to “take stock.”   When I do, I’m humbled and grateful for all I have.  A wonderful marriage to a woman I love more now than when I married her almost 11 lears ago; two bright and healthy and adventurous boys; a meaningful and challenging job that I love; a good church with good people; a nice home in a nice neighborhood; time and ability to give back and serve in my church, my community, and the larger world; opportunities and means to travel and take vacations; no debt, no major crises, no health problems….

Things are not perfect of course.  Living far away from family is hard.  There are definitely relationships in my life that need work.  Having more friends in Miami – or even Florida – would be great.  More balance in our family life is needed.  And so these are areas in need of more prayer and more intentionality.  But these things seem small next to all that I have.  Yep, life is very, very good…

Most importantly though, I continue to give thanks for my Lord and my Savior, Jesus Christ.  Every day…every year…is a gift from Him.  I am so thankful for who He is, what He has done, and His promise of life now and yet to come….

So here is hoping for a great year ahead!  Bring on 38!

Long walk, same talk

Amber and I took a walk yesterday around the island.  After catching up on the books we were reading, how her sinuses were doing, and touching base on a couple of parenting things, we starting talking about more “big picture” stuff…the next 18 months and possible travel plans…the possibility of future schooling for me…our relationships with various family members…the status of our will…and a few other items.  At some point, Amber commented that she felt like we always have this conversation when we are away, and wondered aloud if we ever made progress or just rehashed the same things…

Maybe simply talking about – even rehashing – these things IS progress?  Doing so keeps big things – relationships, dreams, legacies, etc. – in the forefront…

I confess I probably get caught up in the immediacy of “urgent” things and the daily grind of normal life as much as the next person.  But I also have regular life practices in place – like vacations to an island, or more regular blogging – to make sure I don’t stay enslaved to the immediate.  These practices ensure help create time and space to step out of the urgency of the every day and reflect on where our lives are going and what they will ultimately mean…

So how do you do this?  How do you pause, reflect, and remind yourself of the big picture?

The Influence of Jimmy Cox

It was hard to see from where I was sitting.  The speaker held it up, and I could tell it was a black and white photo of a soldier.  He explained that the soldier was a British pilot named Jimmy Cox who was shot down and died in World War II.  He went on to say that Jimmy was a Christian who shared his faith with a man who would eventually become the speaker’s father.  In other words, it was through Jimmy Cox’s life and witness that God helped the speaker’s father come to faith…

The man talking with us and showing the photograph was Pete Greig.  Pete is one of the founding champions of the 24/7 Prayer movement that has become a worldwide, interdenominational movement of prayer, mission and justice over the last decade.  Pete teaches and preaches all over the globe and has authored several books.  Millions of people are connected in one way or another to this prayer movement, including thousands upon thousands of young people who are desperately seeking a form of Christian spirituality they struggle to find in the liturgies or traditions or buildings of their parents and grandparents…

Listening to Pete talk about Jimmy Cox, I was struck by the profound influence of this otherwise unknown British pilot.   Pete fought through some emotion as he mused how his life might have been different – or never existed at all – had Jimmy not known and shared his faith with Pete’s dad (at one point, he asked out loud, “Would he have even been the kind of man who married my mom?”)…

It got me thinking about significance, impact, and influence.   Our tendency is to think of these things in terms of what we can see and measure right now.  But our perspective is very, very limited.  When Jimmy Cox was sharing his faith with Pete’s father, he of course had absolutely no idea the man would get married and have a son…or the impact that son’s life would have for Jesus…

Every story like Pete Craig’s has a Jimmy Cox.  And it reminds us that we simply have no idea how God may want to use us…and what opportunities we might miss to be a part of God’s unfolding purposes when we don’t take the time to invest in those around us…

Perspective: Biscayne Bay Campus

After a wonderful first year of marriage living and serving churches in England, we moved to North Miami 2 1/2 weeks before 9/11.  We were appointed to serve separate, small, struggling congregations, both of which had experienced significant decline over many years and were then at a point of desperately trying to hold on.  We lived in a four bedroom parsonage and barely had enough stuff of our own to fill a couple of the rooms.  We were a young couple in a large, unfamiliar city, just starting out in life together…

So we got a dog.  Her nametag at the humane society said “Ginger”, but on the way home, we decided on Micah instead [btw, I think my sister Summer is still sore we named the dog Micah...she was hoping she would give that name to one of her children...I keep telling her she still can, but I will tell the child he/she was named after my dog...].  Anyway, Micah – some kind of shepherd mix – quickly grew into her paws and became a beast of an animal…a 110 pound puppy with boundless energy and significant emotional codependency who insisted on resting her chin on the table while we ate and trying to crawl into our laps as we watched TV…

A couple of miles from our house was a university campus nestled into a quiet corner of North Miami Beach.  It was a relatively small campus with significant green space that sat next to Biscayne Bay.  It became a favorite place for us to take Micah on walks.  We would follow a trail through the woods, emerge on to the far south edge of the campus, take Micah off the leash and turn her loose to chase unsuspecting lizards and other small critters.  It was a great place for her to stretch her legs, and a nice place near the water for Amber and I to walk and talk about life, ministry, hopes, dreams, and the future…

9 years later, I’m back at the Biscayne Bay campus of Florida International University, this time blogging as I wait to meet with a few people to discuss Wesley’s developing ministry here.  The campus looks very much the same as it did on those walks; other things are very different.  Both of those congregations we once served have closed and merged with another church.  Amber and I have had two children, changed cities 3 times, experienced a great deal more of life and ministry, and feel much older.  We had to put Micah to sleep right before Michael was born because of a hip condition that led to partial paralysis.  I always miss her when I come up here…

I don’t remember the specifics of our long walks and talks at Biscayne Bay as a young married couple.  I’m sure those conversations didn’t include the possibility I would be back here working in college ministry.  But here I am.  Strange how that works out sometimes…

Amber and I still have dreams and hopes for our family, our ministries, our personal lives.  We still try and create time to talk about these things, though carving that time out is more challenging now.  We still walk…occasionally…but not as much as we should…

Now when we talk, we do so with more perspective, more maturity, more wisdom, more experience.  We talk now with a better understanding of how life is and how God works.  And we walk knowing that God has a tendency to take us down unexpected paths and into unexpected places.

One thing I think we’ve learned along the way is that when we are seeking to follow Jesus, and when we are faithfully travel with our traveling companions…wherever we are has a certain sense of familiarity, a sense of being at home…

Perspective: Gabe Growing Up

I was talking with Gabe in the car on the way to school Tuesday morning.  I forget exactly how it came up, but he mentioned liking a girl at school.  After my pressing and him being shy, he shared her name – Hannah, a little blonde who was briefly in his class last year…

After school, I picked Gabe up and walked him out to the car hand in hand.  We stopped to get gas and a snack before running to Homestead to do some quick shopping.  We picked up some new shinguards for soccer, and then stopped at Kohl’s with a list from Amber of a few things he needed.  We looked around, he picked out some shorts and shirts, and we found a dressing room to try them on.  Not really thinking about it, I went into the fitting room with him and handed him the first pair of shorts.  He looked at me a little funny, and said, “Don’t look at me; I want some privacy.”  So I closed my eyes until he put the new shorts on, and then we assessed together whether he liked them and whether they looked good.  He wanted to look handsome, you see.   Then after the shorts and shirts, we made a quick visit to get the shoe section, where he immediately picked out a pair of sketchers with bright, neon blue lights in the soles that flashed when he moved…

After running home and changing clothes, we headed out to his first soccer practice of the year.  He plays as part of a local club in what they call their “development and transitional” program.  It’s basically a league comprised of kids under 11 [4-7 is development, 8-11 is transitional] in which they all practice together a couple of days each week to learn basic skills of the game.  Then they are divided into teams and play each other on Saturday mornings.  It essentially serves as a feeder system for the competitive club.  Anyway, Gabe has moved up from development to transitional this year, and I found out at practice that he is the youngest player in the transitional program.  That didn’t seem to matter though.  The 70 or so players in transitional were divided among four fields and scrimmaged so the coaches could evaluate the players in hopes of creating even teams.  Gabe played really well and turned some heads.  At the end of the practice, one of the senior club coaches pulled Gabe aside to kick the ball with him for a minute.  Another coach came over to me and said he was impressed at his skill and grasp of the game being so young, and that Gabe seemed to have a lot of good potential as a player.  He then turned to Gabe and said gruffly, “You want to be the best soccer player you can be, right?”  Gabe looked at him a bit confused, grabbed my hand, and responded with a meek yes…

That night, reflecting on the day, it hit me how quickly Gabe is growing up.  My little boy who still likes to hold my hand and still gets excited about shoes that light up also wants his privacy and wants to look handsome.  He is starting to notice girls and get noticed by soccer coaches. He is asserting his opinions and independence but still reaches to me when he is nervous or uncomfortable…

He’s only 7 1/2, so I know there are entire worlds of growing up and maturing yet to do.  But it has started, and that is undeniable.  Our baby isn’t a baby anymore…

Perspective: Happy Meals

I was gone all weekend, so today was a “daddy-day” with my boys.  We went to Sports Authority this morning and picked up a couple of new size 3 soccer balls for the upcoming season, and then had a good afternoon kicking those balls around and swimming in the pool and playing Mariocart on the Wii.  We also stopped by McDonalds for lunch (and a little indoor playground time on a VERY hot Miami day).  The boys were momentarily disappointed and frustrated to hear that they were out of “boy” happy meal toys and instead received little pink animals in pink purses.  They decided the girl toys were gross and didn’t want them…

McDonalds is usually a good place to people watch, and today was no exception.  While the boys munched on their happy meals, I was observing (and I must confess, eavesdropping) on the people around us.  There were two older women (grandmothers?  great-grams?) with two children, each a bit younger than my boys.  All of them were dressed in clothes that were clearly worn, and the women snapped at the kids several times for various – rather inconsequential – things.  Once in front of the ketchup dispenser, the woman loudly shamed the little boy for the mess he was making.  I felt like I could see a spirit being crushed before my eyes…

A lady two tables over from us was on the phone.  She was describing a situation in which a local school was refusing her transfer request for her autistic son, saying they weren’t equipped to deal with his condition.  In a very animated voice, she was telling someone on the other end how she was making clear they just couldn’t refuse him because of the problems with other students he had faced at his previous school…

There were several people there, clearly on a lunch break from hard-laboring jobs outside.  One man was wearing a “waste management services” uniform; another in a T-shirt looked like he was in some kind of landscaping business.  Both were absolutely drenched in sweat…

I saw another Dad there with his two sons, both a few years older than mine.  The younger of the two clearly had some kind of mental/emotional disability, though it wasn’t immediately clear what it was.  But his smile and other facial gestures, his motor skills and awkward movement, his struggle to communicate were all sure indications of some kind of condition…

Michael was hungry and finished off his 4 McNuggets, so I went back to the counter and ordered some more.  As I waited, I did a quick survey of the employees behind the counter and in the kitchen – all women, all either African-American or Hispanic, all at least my age if not older…and none with smiles on their faces…

I have a great life.  My life is a much easier life than what many people have.  My boys are healthy.  I have a great job that I enjoy very much.  My marriage is in great shape.  I don’t have to think twice about shelling out $30 dollars for two soccer balls and a $13 lunch at McDonalds.  I have a very nice roof over my head…and a pool to cool off in…

If asked, there are certainly things in my life that frustrate me and that I would like to be different.  My boys are stubborn and they wrestle and yell in the house constantly…I wish I could find (or create) more time during the week to exercise myself back into shape…having a few more friends in Miami would be great…living anywhere near any of our family would be wonderful…

But these are all very – and I mean very – small things.  It’s like preferring “The Thing” from Fantastic Four in my happy meal instead of a pink purse and kitty cat.  Sure, it would be nice, but does it really matter and is it worth getting frustrated about?

I am blessed, privileged, and fortunate.  And I am thankful.  And I hope in the relative ease of my life, I can use my talents and energies and resources to be a source of help and blessing and encouragement in those lives that are just not as easy as mine….

Comfort Food

I went to Five Guys today for lunch.  I love that place.  Great burger made hot just like you want it….bottomless sodas….very generous helping of seasoned fries….and a great soundtrack to top it off!  Today I was treated to the following tunes from my growing up years…Jessie’s Girl, Never Say Goodbye, Pour Some Sugar On Me, Safety Dance, Thriller…and many more.  Throw in a great conversation partner (which I had today), and it makes for a really good dining experience…

There’s something about savoring a cheeseburger loaded with pickles and mustard and onions and tomatoes while sipping on that diet coke splashed with cherry and letting my mind wander back to the melodies of middle school dances and high school sporting events…something about all of it that just feels so…comfortable.  There is a timeless familiarity to the experience that never gets old.  Back home in Plano, the burger joint was a place called “Country Burger.”   Different name, different place…but very similar experience.  I used to go to Country Burger as a boy with my dad, then later as a teen with my friends.    I have a vague sense that the soundtrack may have been a little different (country music maybe?), but the booths and the people and the food and the experience felt the same.  Every visit home from college would include a trip to Country Burger; and on those rare occasions now when I’m back in Plano, I try and stop by for lunch.  It’s familiar.  Comfortable…

Maybe it’s because I love comfort food and can’t get enough of Five Guys that I understand certain things about traditions in churches.  People like what is familiar.  Certain songs bring back certain memories and feelings and remind them of certain people and times in their lives.  For some people who live in communities they can barely recognize anymore among people who seem much different than themselves…for people who have experienced seismic shifts in culture and technology that permeate every aspect of their lives in ways that are both confusing and intrusive…for people who mourn the loss of people and a world long gone…something familiar, something comfortable is good.  To be able to hear the old, old story…sing the old, old songs…be reminded of the faithfulness of God’s love and presence through all the long days and seasons of life.  It’s comfortable…

I’m not suggesting that people being comfortable is what the church is about.  Far from it.  Read my blog entitled ” The Lifeboat Station” for more about the nature and mission of the church….

I’m just saying that I get it.  I don’t fault people for liking the familiar and wanting what they know.  We all love comfort food…

The Draft and Destiny

I am among the millions who followed the NFL draft the last few days.  The draft has always been interesting to me – the manuevering and strategy, the disinformation and posturing and speculation about needs and trades and everything else.  It’s like a complex puzzle that is in constant motion with unlimited possibilities…

And there are always a few compelling story lines to follow.  Last year, it was the incredible journey of Michael Orr (Hollywood produced The Blind Side with Sandra Bullock about his story).  This year, it was the quarterbacks – Bradford, Tebow, Clausen and Colt.  I was one who was happy for Tebow; and while it was unfortunate that my man Colt fell so far down the board, the Browns picked up a heck of a player.

I saw a short interview with Colt after he was picked.  He described having a great visit and chemistry with the Browns and their coaches, and said he couldn’t imagine a better fit for him.  Somewhere in there, he even talked about God’s plan and knowing there was a reason for this and for the long couple of days of waiting he had just been through.  Hmmm….God’s plan to go to the Browns late in round 3?

Lots of those interviewed who were drafted said similar things, which I always find….interesting.  Again, there are so many factors in play – specific team needs, trades happening in the background, salary and money considerations at various positions, teams moving up and down the draft order trying to get their guy before someone else does, etc.  Like I said, it’s a complex puzzle in constant motion with unlimited possibilities…and yet whatever results is God’s plan.  Right?  Maybe…

Or maybe not.  This weekend is also graduation weekend for FIU.  Several of my students will walk across the stage in the next few days, smile and receive their diplomas, and experience that strange mixture of relief and apprehension that comes with the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.  I think some of them have a pretty good idea of what comes next; and I think some of them don’t have a clue.  Regardless, none of them (that I know of anyway) can see the future, and all of them have various factors at work in their own lives – family, significant others, geography, further schooling, job considerations, money, etc., etc.  A few of them might even say it’s a complex puzzle in constant motion with unlimited possibilities.  OK, maybe not unlimited…

The point I think I’m trying to make is that our lives can go in a lot of directions.  I had a conversation recently in which I shared some of the story of how a pre-law undergrad born and raised in Texas ended up in seminary in North Carolina, marrying into Florida and moving to England, serving churches and now working in campus ministry.  Not at all a path I would have expected when I was a senior at the University of Texas….

And so here is the thing: while my life could have gone lots of different ways at lots of different points, I am convinced that God intervened when He needed to – at critical moments and decisions – and led me down the path He desired for me.  In discerning a call to ministry, God gave me confirmation after confirmation after confirmation over the course of several months of prayerful discernment.  Of the seminaries I visited, Duke clearly stood out as the place I needed to be; I was at home there in a way that I knew to be from God.  Over time, God gave me a heart that desired to share my love and my life with Amber (and fortunately, over time worked on her as well!).  And again, that leading came with multiple confirmations that went beyond mere romantic love or personal desires.  Leaving local church ministry and taking this new role in Miami working with students…there were many leadings and confirmations and doors that God either opened or shut to bring me to this place…

All of that is to say that my experience has been that God will lead us when He needs to…and if we want Him to.  The writer of Proverbs shares great wisdom in these words, among my favorite in the Bible…

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.  Proverbs 3:5-6

Trust Him, acknowledge Him…and He will straighten out our paths.  When our path gets curvy and goes off course, He will straighten it out…if we seek Him and trust Him.  Which means that while everything might not happen exactly as it could have or should have or even how God maybe wanted it to happen intially…that God in His power and His extraordinary concern for us and His unending love and gracious mercy… that He can make a way, can lead us forward, can straighten out our paths.

That’s good news for my graduating students.  And that’s good news for Colt…God can even straighten out a path that goes through Cleveland…

Perspective: Chuck-e-Cheese

I was 8 – and my Dad was 33 – when my parents were getting a divorce.  We lived with my mom during the process, and Dad would have visitation on weekends.  Every visit would start the same way.  We would see his pale green Cutlass pull up outside, run to the car and hop in…and he would take us to Chuck-e-Cheese.  I have vivid memories of playing pac-man and jumping inside the area with the plastic balls and guzzling down soda and pizza.  It was a highlight of the week.  Token after token, game after game, soda after soda…

I also remember the rest of those weekends….a barely furnished apartment with one old ratty brown couch…TV dinners on TV trays that also doubled as card tables and supports for coloring books…naming the cockroaches that we would often see scurry through the kitchen…the three of us lying in the queen bed watching Mary Poppins and other kid movies on TV…

Now I’m in my mid-30s, have my own kids, and we take our own occasional trips to Chuck-e-Cheese.  My perspective on the place is a bit different…bad pizza…loud and crowded…great place to transmit germs…expensive….constantly alert and trying to keep my eyes on Gabe as he wanders looking for games to play…observing other parents and how they talk to and treat their kids…and did I mention loud and crowded?

Whenever we visit the place now, I think of those times when I was 8.  I can only imagine my Dad’s stress and turmoil and sadness as he watched us eat pizza and play.  I shake my head as I remember pleading with him for more tokens…and him giving in….when I’m sure he could have used that money for non-frozen food and a table to eat it on…

Only as an adult have I begun to understand and appreciate the life my Dad has led…all that he has struggled through and sacrificed…all that he did not have that he tried to give me…Somewhere in the midst of those weekend visits and trips to the pizza parlor, I think I began to learn a little about unconditional love and self-sacrifice and putting others’ needs before your own and finding joy in the midst of sorrow and pain.  In his suffering, Dad showed me and taught me about love…

Pop came to see us last December.  We all went to Chuck-e-Cheese – my Dad, me, my boys.  Good times.  Bittersweet times.  Sitting there eating that terrible pizza, I found myself very grateful for him – for the sacrifices he has made and the love he has shown….