Recently I was out of town for a team retreat and for a moment I wondered,
"What if this was the last day, the last hours, the last minutes I'd spend
with my family?"
At first the thought was startling, a bit morbid, and unsettling; I felt very sad.
And then I considered eternity ahead, and with small eyes of faith I decided
I'd live my last day ordinary.
I'd spend time dancing with Noah because no one dances and laughs, grooves and spins better than him. I try to dance like him, but it's not good. Fun, but not graceful; silly, but not cool. I'd talk about mundane things like Scholastic news homework and Spanish assignments. I'd help him, spend time with him.
I'd spend time singing with Abi, who knows every lyric of every song imaginable. She's clever and smart, wise and good. We'd talk about school drama, friends who need a clue and others who are helpful and kind, friends who build Abi up. We'd discuss leadership team at school and the antics of the advisors.
I'd spend time with Micaiah, who likes to walk and talk. We'd see migratory birds like sandhill cranes, loons, Canadian geese, and mallards. We'd discuss teachers who drive him crazy and students who are confusing and assignments that are lame. We'd dream about the future and what he'd like to do, roles he'd like to have, tasks he'd like to complete.
I'd spend time with Dan, snuggling and talking, laughing and listening. He'd make delicious food and give perspective, piles of it, for the drama I'd be neck deep in. He'd do impressions of politically un correct people and problems. Catching up on facebook friends, and childhood friends, and extended family members, we'd just be.
That's my ordinary life; that's what I'd want to live.
I'm loved unconditionally,
I'm encouraged,
I'm pushed and stretched,
I'm privileged to be a part of something so much bigger than me,
in the hands of God.
Monday, May 13, 2013
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Lessons learned from AWANA
Lessons learned from AWANA (a bible memory program for kids based on the verse in 2 Timothy 2:15-Approved Workman Are Not Ashamed).
As a kid's leader in the 21st century, hearing and listening, watching and dreaming, praying and waiting, I've recently observed something from AWANA. This program, while in some churches can be controversial, in other churches shines a bright light on kid's growth in God's word, the bible.
Here's some lessons I've learned from AWANA:
1). In a culture where there aren't significant faith moments to hang your hat on as parents, AWANA gives guidelines, procedure, process, and reward for spiritual growth. It's tangible. It's clear. It's concise. There's no confusion.
2). As parents like you and me, we want to see evidence of spiritual fruit. We long for validation that the stories from Sunday, the weekly family devotional attempts and successes, the faith conversations we may have on occasion powered with and fueled by a program like AWANA will make the faith deal sealed.
3). We like short term, instant success. In the span of childhood, the rigor of schedule, the intensity of the battering ram of culture, AWANA offers a moment of success. We like that. If nothing else seems to be working, we reason, at least my kids are memorizing bible verses.
4). Even though we don't want to follow rules, they can be restricting and cramp our style, we like the rules AWANA offers. Memorize the verse word perfect. It's black and white. It's crystal clear. We want our children to follow rules and it's easy to discipline when rules aren't followed. "You didn't memorize your verse, you don't get the reward." A system like this is clear. It teaches work ethic. It draws out competition to strive harder, hopefully against oneself.
Parenting in this culture is hard; it's tricky and feels unsafe. When I dream about programs, when I see what I need most as a parent, I recognize that a program like AWANA can offer goal and objective, measurable outcome and reward. It's comforting and it's rewarding.
At a fundamental level kids need to know that there is structure, that rules matter, that hiding God's word in your heart will be invaluable. These are lessons I can learn and apply to dreaming dreams for kid's ministry. But equally imperative is my personal, parental role of supporting, encouraging, modeling. I need to be leading faith and bible learning, story and bible memorization. It is unrealistic to think any program will check the box of faith for our children.
No one will live your faith story for you. No one is more designed to live a faith story in front of their kids than you and me. Take the efforts of any kid's ministry to supplement what you are doing.
Live faith out loud!
As a kid's leader in the 21st century, hearing and listening, watching and dreaming, praying and waiting, I've recently observed something from AWANA. This program, while in some churches can be controversial, in other churches shines a bright light on kid's growth in God's word, the bible.
Here's some lessons I've learned from AWANA:
1). In a culture where there aren't significant faith moments to hang your hat on as parents, AWANA gives guidelines, procedure, process, and reward for spiritual growth. It's tangible. It's clear. It's concise. There's no confusion.
2). As parents like you and me, we want to see evidence of spiritual fruit. We long for validation that the stories from Sunday, the weekly family devotional attempts and successes, the faith conversations we may have on occasion powered with and fueled by a program like AWANA will make the faith deal sealed.
3). We like short term, instant success. In the span of childhood, the rigor of schedule, the intensity of the battering ram of culture, AWANA offers a moment of success. We like that. If nothing else seems to be working, we reason, at least my kids are memorizing bible verses.
4). Even though we don't want to follow rules, they can be restricting and cramp our style, we like the rules AWANA offers. Memorize the verse word perfect. It's black and white. It's crystal clear. We want our children to follow rules and it's easy to discipline when rules aren't followed. "You didn't memorize your verse, you don't get the reward." A system like this is clear. It teaches work ethic. It draws out competition to strive harder, hopefully against oneself.
Parenting in this culture is hard; it's tricky and feels unsafe. When I dream about programs, when I see what I need most as a parent, I recognize that a program like AWANA can offer goal and objective, measurable outcome and reward. It's comforting and it's rewarding.
At a fundamental level kids need to know that there is structure, that rules matter, that hiding God's word in your heart will be invaluable. These are lessons I can learn and apply to dreaming dreams for kid's ministry. But equally imperative is my personal, parental role of supporting, encouraging, modeling. I need to be leading faith and bible learning, story and bible memorization. It is unrealistic to think any program will check the box of faith for our children.
No one will live your faith story for you. No one is more designed to live a faith story in front of their kids than you and me. Take the efforts of any kid's ministry to supplement what you are doing.
Live faith out loud!
you can't unsay what you say
It happens to us all; we say things we instantly wish we hadn't said.
Words fly out of our mouth and as quickly as they are out, our foot could take it's place.
We say things unthinkingly, offending-ly, blatantly, without consideration.
And often, these moments of offense happen at the worst time.
Consider a long concerned thought regarding a wayward child. You want what's best for them, but they exasperate you, so in "parental love" you offer insight. And usually, when you are at your most passionate, your child is at their most vulnerable. Instead of love, they hear condemnation.
Consider a peer. You want to speak into their life; the path they have chosen is unwise and the decisions they've made foolish, so you speak words you think are in love, but they are received in judgement and intolerance. Instead of wisdom, they hear a critic.
Consider a spouse. You want to pour into their life, so you help them by magnifying their bad habits, thinking that they don't realize, aren't self aware, and it's your duty to correct and improve. Instead of partnership, they hear attack.
Words can build up.
Words can tear down.
They can set loved ones free.
They can do irreparable damage.
Thomas Edison once said, "You will have many opportunities in life to keep your mouth shut: you should take advantage of every one of them."
We are not the moral police.
We are not the judges and the jury.
And while we are truth tellers and Christ followers:
our greatest work with words is in the context of prayer,
our greatest expression of love is in the context of grace,
our greatest witness is in the context of humility.
Words fly out of our mouth and as quickly as they are out, our foot could take it's place.
We say things unthinkingly, offending-ly, blatantly, without consideration.
And often, these moments of offense happen at the worst time.
Consider a long concerned thought regarding a wayward child. You want what's best for them, but they exasperate you, so in "parental love" you offer insight. And usually, when you are at your most passionate, your child is at their most vulnerable. Instead of love, they hear condemnation.
Consider a peer. You want to speak into their life; the path they have chosen is unwise and the decisions they've made foolish, so you speak words you think are in love, but they are received in judgement and intolerance. Instead of wisdom, they hear a critic.
Consider a spouse. You want to pour into their life, so you help them by magnifying their bad habits, thinking that they don't realize, aren't self aware, and it's your duty to correct and improve. Instead of partnership, they hear attack.
Words can build up.
Words can tear down.
They can set loved ones free.
They can do irreparable damage.
Thomas Edison once said, "You will have many opportunities in life to keep your mouth shut: you should take advantage of every one of them."
We are not the moral police.
We are not the judges and the jury.
And while we are truth tellers and Christ followers:
our greatest work with words is in the context of prayer,
our greatest expression of love is in the context of grace,
our greatest witness is in the context of humility.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
What if we brought God to the soccer field?
Parenting. There's good days and bad,
confusing days and fun days,
days of complete chaos and nonsense, and
days of freedom and grace, love and joy.
Lately, I've been thinking about the crossroads of parenting and faith. It's hard to integrate the two
at times.
The churchy days are easier, but not the norm-one day, one morning, one hour contrasted against the 6 other days. The others, filled with bus schedules and homework, last minute supper ideas and piles of laundry and missing library books and lost charger cords.....
What if we brought God into the everyday-ness, the fun and the struggle, the school, and the soccer field?
What if, instead of flying in at the last minute, still tying soccer cleats as practice has already started, we came early and asked how we could help the coach?
What if, instead of complaining with other parents about stupid schedules and peanut-free snacks, bad calls and arguments about placement on the field; we complimented the coach, were appreciative of the program, and thanked the volunteers who made soccer happen?
What if, instead of rushing off, we lingered to help clean up, sharing our appreciation with the coaching staff?
What if, during the game, when our children made a great play, we paused to pray?
What if, on the way home, we gave God the credit? Prayed with our budding soccer champions for God's favor, provision, health, and endurance to run well and play strong?
What if God sat beside us, in our consciousness, in such a way that he was our first thought?
No one will live your faith story for you. No one is more designed to live a faith story in front of their kids than you and me.
What are we waiting for? Live different, live faith out loud!
confusing days and fun days,
days of complete chaos and nonsense, and
days of freedom and grace, love and joy.
Lately, I've been thinking about the crossroads of parenting and faith. It's hard to integrate the two
at times.
The churchy days are easier, but not the norm-one day, one morning, one hour contrasted against the 6 other days. The others, filled with bus schedules and homework, last minute supper ideas and piles of laundry and missing library books and lost charger cords.....
What if we brought God into the everyday-ness, the fun and the struggle, the school, and the soccer field?
What if, instead of flying in at the last minute, still tying soccer cleats as practice has already started, we came early and asked how we could help the coach?
What if, instead of complaining with other parents about stupid schedules and peanut-free snacks, bad calls and arguments about placement on the field; we complimented the coach, were appreciative of the program, and thanked the volunteers who made soccer happen?
What if, instead of rushing off, we lingered to help clean up, sharing our appreciation with the coaching staff?
What if, during the game, when our children made a great play, we paused to pray?
What if, on the way home, we gave God the credit? Prayed with our budding soccer champions for God's favor, provision, health, and endurance to run well and play strong?
What if God sat beside us, in our consciousness, in such a way that he was our first thought?
No one will live your faith story for you. No one is more designed to live a faith story in front of their kids than you and me.
What are we waiting for? Live different, live faith out loud!
Saturday, April 27, 2013
a still, quiet place
there's this place
that's hard to get to
it requires effort and timing,
preparation and dedication
a place that becomes rather than just is.
it's a moment, many moments strung together
where all distraction fades away,
a still, quiet place that I have found in a
most unusual way.
Laces tightened,
running gear on,
hydration flowing through my veins, I begin.
Muscles protest, wind distracts,
mental battle engages with a constant "You can't do this",
breathing starts to jag, side stitches threaten and then
counting and breathing and breathing and counting and
that's where I find a still, quiet place.
shoes pounding pavement quiets,
distracted noise fades,
wind becomes less dominant, and it's me
counting in and out, in and out
breathing in and out, in and out
smooth and rhythmic and calm and peace filled
breathe.
count.
count.
breathe.
nothing else matters,
nothing else panics or competes and clamors for attention,
it's this still, quiet place.
that's hard to get to
it requires effort and timing,
preparation and dedication
a place that becomes rather than just is.
it's a moment, many moments strung together
where all distraction fades away,
a still, quiet place that I have found in a
most unusual way.
Laces tightened,
running gear on,
hydration flowing through my veins, I begin.
Muscles protest, wind distracts,
mental battle engages with a constant "You can't do this",
breathing starts to jag, side stitches threaten and then
counting and breathing and breathing and counting and
that's where I find a still, quiet place.
shoes pounding pavement quiets,
distracted noise fades,
wind becomes less dominant, and it's me
counting in and out, in and out
breathing in and out, in and out
smooth and rhythmic and calm and peace filled
breathe.
count.
count.
breathe.
nothing else matters,
nothing else panics or competes and clamors for attention,
it's this still, quiet place.
Monday, April 8, 2013
Friendship that inspires....
Rarely, a friend comes along who inspires
and when that relationship forms, everything changes
The kind of friend I'm talking about
challenges, but also encourages,
knowing that life isn't a competition against one another,
but rather against ourselves to become better.
The kind of friend that critiques, but only because love is the foundation,
a mutual understanding that no matter if disagreement occurs,
the sharpening is for good, not for easy.
The kind of friend who accepts you, wrinkles, burps, bumps, and all.
A soul to soul connection that is designed to reflect the beauty of heaven, the love of a creator for his created.
The kind of friend who doesn't envy, won't tear down, never manipulates, wants good and truth and hope and joy.
It's painted vividly in 1 Corinthians 13, and because God is love, we can know God is all of these things....
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
and when that relationship forms, everything changes
The kind of friend I'm talking about
challenges, but also encourages,
knowing that life isn't a competition against one another,
but rather against ourselves to become better.
The kind of friend that critiques, but only because love is the foundation,
a mutual understanding that no matter if disagreement occurs,
the sharpening is for good, not for easy.
The kind of friend who accepts you, wrinkles, burps, bumps, and all.
A soul to soul connection that is designed to reflect the beauty of heaven, the love of a creator for his created.
The kind of friend who doesn't envy, won't tear down, never manipulates, wants good and truth and hope and joy.
It's painted vividly in 1 Corinthians 13, and because God is love, we can know God is all of these things....
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.
9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part,
10 but when completeness comes,what is in part disappears.
11 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.
12 For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
May these words from God set us all free today!
saying goodbye
...the hardest part of ministry, I think, is saying goodbye.
In church culture, it's not uncommon for people to visit, to join community, and then for any number of reasons, move along. Maybe it's a job transfer, a move to a new community, a decision to shop around for a new church, or a walking away from faith. And it's the goodbye that I most avoid.
As a leader, my primary role is to invest in others, try to inspire them to serve in the local church, motivate them, encourage them, invite them in, share opportunity of ministry and then trust with everything that I've done, partnered with God's mission, will produce volunteers for the ministry.
Children's ministry, particularly, has a grueling number of needed volunteers.
Children's ministry, specifically, has a pace that's relentless.
Children's ministry, naturally, has a high rate of success in communicating the gospel and seeing lives changed.
Children's ministry, dominantly, has a high investment in the family.
And when a prayed for, poured into, trained volunteer moves along, it's heartbreaking.
Over the ministry seasons, I've seen volunteers come and go, I've watched new opportunity arise and people move along. And I've seen a pace such that there isn't time to morn, or to grieve, or to despair. Emotions are pesky, irritating things anyway. Nonetheless, they rise up.
So, today, I pause to grieve over the loss of many amazing people who have passed by our doors, entered into our ministry, and moved along.
I miss you.
I'm sad you've gone.
I pray you will continue to hold high the torch of loving children and teaching them God's truth.
I morn your absence.
I can't wait to see you, in the global church, on the other side of life.
The role you played was invaluable and I'm sorry if I didn't say how much I valued you enough.
May you know you were loved, you mattered, you made a difference.
In church culture, it's not uncommon for people to visit, to join community, and then for any number of reasons, move along. Maybe it's a job transfer, a move to a new community, a decision to shop around for a new church, or a walking away from faith. And it's the goodbye that I most avoid.
As a leader, my primary role is to invest in others, try to inspire them to serve in the local church, motivate them, encourage them, invite them in, share opportunity of ministry and then trust with everything that I've done, partnered with God's mission, will produce volunteers for the ministry.
Children's ministry, particularly, has a grueling number of needed volunteers.
Children's ministry, specifically, has a pace that's relentless.
Children's ministry, naturally, has a high rate of success in communicating the gospel and seeing lives changed.
Children's ministry, dominantly, has a high investment in the family.
And when a prayed for, poured into, trained volunteer moves along, it's heartbreaking.
Over the ministry seasons, I've seen volunteers come and go, I've watched new opportunity arise and people move along. And I've seen a pace such that there isn't time to morn, or to grieve, or to despair. Emotions are pesky, irritating things anyway. Nonetheless, they rise up.
So, today, I pause to grieve over the loss of many amazing people who have passed by our doors, entered into our ministry, and moved along.
I miss you.
I'm sad you've gone.
I pray you will continue to hold high the torch of loving children and teaching them God's truth.
I morn your absence.
I can't wait to see you, in the global church, on the other side of life.
The role you played was invaluable and I'm sorry if I didn't say how much I valued you enough.
May you know you were loved, you mattered, you made a difference.
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