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(A Thanksgiving Post)

The toughest people to love.  I’m not talking about the homeless guy who refuses to work but insists on asking others for money or those old guys who wear red beanies and sell pecan logs in front of Walmart .  I’m not talking about Jehovah’s witnesses, telemarketers, or even conservative republicans.  Sometimes the toughest people to love are those forcefully closest to you - your extended family.

This Thanksgiving revealed something underneath the surface of my conscious life that I always new existed but never wanted to admit.  Normally around my extended family I am quiet, reserved, and far from conversational.  I don’t know what it is exactly that motivates my awkwardness.  Maybe I feel that the only reason they talk to me s because they feel like they have to.  Maybe I am just too insecure.  It is probably the latter.

Regardless, today was different.  I was talkative, kind, charming, and even funny.  The difference - it wasn’t my extended family.  It was my wife’s.  In fact, I was relieved to have a change of pace and not be uncomfortably forced into seemingly caring conversations because I have no baggage with my wife’s family.

As the night grew on I watched as their family interacted.  They have their own ridiculously awkward tendencies that are not at all different from my own.  The truth is, today, my appreciation for my own family grew.  I realize that God in His infinite wisdom placed me perfectly within the right family to cultivate my lack of humility.  My family is not the toughest to love…  I am.

Granddad, I wish I were more bold in my interaction with you.  You are the most fascinating man I have ever held a conversation with and I pray I might one day have a fraction of your intelligence.  I am forever indebted to your generosity.  Evan, your wife is a beautiful gift and you have the privilege to love her the way Jesus loves His bride.  Never hesitate to seek Him for the guidance of your family.  Courtney, God is not disappointed with you.  He just passionately seeks your affection and has the foresight to know what’s best for your future.  Susan, you grow kinder with age and still somehow manage to remember my birthday.  Lonnie, you are so endearing and I believe the heart of God would burst in two if you were to fall on your knees before Him.  His ability to give surpasses your ability to receive.

I love you all and I am so thankful that you are a part of my life.  Thank you for your grace and kindness in loving me as I have so awkwardly grown throughout many different phases of life.  I am still learning what it means to love.

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Just a few reasons why I am part of the BEST church in Chattanooga:

• I have to wake up before 7am to help set up and I get excited about that.
• I get to wear jeans and a t-shirt and I still look better than our pastor.
• I get to play music with some of the most incredible musicians around.
• I get to play music I like.
• We meet in a movie theater.  So if you are clever you can hide behind the seats and catch an early matinee!
• There are no ferns or flowery wallpaper (which I know Scott is disappointed about).
• I get to hear truth in honest and real language.
• My gifts are implemented within the production of how we do Sundays.
• I am passionate about reaching those far from God and helping them reconnect with His tender heart for the sake of His glory.  At Journey, I get to be a part of that every week.

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Lately my little Norah has been up on her feet and moving around the house.  She is learning to take chances and attempt things she may have never dreamed possible.  With walking, however, there is a danger brought to reality - the fear of falling.  Because of her lack of experience and inept balance she is constantly falling.

As always, while watching my sweet daughter learn about life, the Holy Spirit gently nudges my conscience and reminds me how similar are my feeble attempts to live out my faith.  I can only hope to deeply embrace the lessons my Father is teaching me through her growth, and I pray that I will be resilient as she is in my personal walk with Him.  Sometimes, I fear what I have missed in my own life because I am terrified of falling.

“For a righteous man falls seven times, and rises again,

but the wicked fall in times of calamity.“

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I’ve been spending a lot of time at the chiropractor over the past few weeks.  My lower back was binging on pain and I could barely function properly during the most minuscule activities of the day.  After my first visit, we took some x-rays to see what exactly was causing the stabbing twinge.  I returned to the doctor later that day and discovered something I was not expecting.  The source of my lower back pain was caused by a totally different par of my body.  It was my neck!

It seems that the cervical bend in my spine, which is located at my neck, is not bending at all.  The out of placement is causing a lot of pressure on my lower back which results in a lot of pain.

Often in life when we experience pain, frustration can bubble to the surface because we don’t understand its source.  We look in the obvious areas only to find no relief.  Our last leadership meeting at Journey was a sorting through of the frustration that has been hurting our level of impact among our people.  We’re not sure exactly what is causing the disconnect, but we have checked all of the obvious areas and are now determined to explore the rest of the body for a source.  Sometimes, I wish God would just give us x-ray vision to look into the body of Christ and know exactly from where the dysfunction is coming.

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“Say you were, uh…”  That’s how it started, anyway.  It was a twelve second conversation that I couldn’t reminiscently shake on the drive home.  I’ve been hanging out with the freshman guys at a local Christian school.  The classrooms are small in number, but large in curiosity.  Today was my last hour of babbling in front of their faces which were content to hide behind the comfort of their desks.  On my way out to the car after class, one of the students met my stride and unloaded a plea for help with four words, “Say you were, uh…”

Fear brought out those words.  Maybe a fear of consequences.  I don’t know exactly what gave him the courage to say what he did, but there was something strong enough to push his lips and let loose a secret that I’m sure few people knew about.  And there was something about the way he formed his words that told me he wanted to keep it that way.  He allowed my to hear just enough to realize how naive I was for thinking that such a situation would never occur at a “Christian” school.  At least not in ninth grade, anyway.

I nearly had sufficient time to entertain his question before he was headed in the opposite direction.  I can’t even remember what I said, or if I even said anything at all.  I know what I wanted to say, though.  I wanted to say be careful.  I wanted to grip him by the shoulders and say, “No, seriously, dude…  BE CAREFUL!”

Parents, we have to start talking to our kids about sex and drug use. There is no excuse for turning a deaf ear.  You are naive to think that sticking your kid in a private Christian establishment will keep you from having to give “the talk.”  You have another thing coming if you think their youth pastor will hopefully get around to it.  You are crippling your children through silence.  GIVE THE TALK!!!  Then when you are finished, GIVE IT AGAIN!!!  Quit calling it “the talk” and make it an ongoing conversation.  Don’t be silent.  Don’t you dare pray that God will reach out to them, but never lift a finger yourself because you don’t know what to say or how to say it.  I am begging you…  don’t hide behind terms like christian, church, religion, or innocence because you were taught in Sunday school that a “good” person doesn’t speak of such godless behavior.  Please, don’t be naive!

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