Hope Amidst The Mess

On May 21st, 1998, I was teaching at East Linn Christian Academy when I received word that a student at Thurston high school had brought weapons to school and opened fire.  We stopped class and awaited the developing news coming out of Eugene, just 50 miles away.  I can remember the looks on the faces of the students in my Bible class.  I remember their questions and I can recall my response, "Lets Pray"...

On September 11, 2001, I was preparing to head out the door to the juvenile correctional facility where I worked when my wife told me that a plane had just hit the World Trade Center.  I saw the first footage air on the news, shocked and stunned like millions of Americans across the nation whose lives had just been altered forever.  I listened to the news as I drove to work and, upon entering the violent offender unit, gathered the youth together in the main room, located a television and sat with these young men who stared horrified as the towers fell.  We canceled the morning classes and I sat in that locked facility and struggled to answer questions from scared young men, whose tough exteriors crumbled beneath the weight of true fear.  When there was a break in the newscast, I walked out into the interior courtyard encircled by drab gray concrete walls, and I prayed...

Over the last 11 years, my children have grown, I have left one career, entered into another, left that career and returned to full-time youth ministry.  I have coached and watched hundreds of athletic events.  I have celebrated births and spoke lovingly at the funerals of saints.  I have gained and lost the same 15 lbs more than once and been dismayed as I have begun to see the face of my father look back at me from the mirror.  I have been upset over my child's playing time and outraged over poor officiating.  I have tried to raise my income and spent hours worried about bills. I have went about my busyness of living and the memories of those tragic days spent confused and questioning God, the scared faces of kids looking for answers, have slowly slipped into my distant memory....Until last week.

Suddenly, none of my life's selfish pursuits seemed so important. As word of the terror that evil had visited upon a community much like ours hit the news, the time my child had on the field was not nearly as vital as the time spent in my arms. The money I did or didn't have not so important as the time I still had, time to tell them I loved them, time to create memories.  The wrinkles on my face did not consume me as much as my desire for my children to live a long and happy life, time for them to develop wrinkles of their own... To see the face of their father looking back at them from their mirror....Because what I felt was not that it could happen here, but rather that it might happen here....

You see, the truth is scary.  We live in a broken world.  It is not as it should be, and we cannot control it. Evil is present and real, despite our desire that it not be so.  And so we shift the discussion immediately to things we can control; Gun laws, the merits of behavioral medication...Anything which can take our minds away from what haunts the recesses of our psyche and gnaws at our hearts...It might happen here, and we cannot control it.  Surely, we can take precautions.  We can use wisdom.  But how do you combat the presence of evil? The twisted darkness that desires to kill?  Despite my best efforts to create a life that is ordered and sane, this past week reminded me once again that we live in a broken world...One that cries out to be restored.  But is that not why Jesus was born in that barn, amidst the mess?  Because it is messy, this world we live in, and He came not to stay clean, pristine and unreachable. No, He came to give hope to those in the dirt, their tears darkening the ground beneath them.  He chose to be born far away from the trappings of wealth so that those who feel far away can draw near to Him.  I don't understand the thoughts of God, but I know He understands my suffering, because He endured it...All to give me hope in midst of a broken world..

Last week, my wife texted me that a schoolroom of small children had been killed.  I avoided the news, changing the channel whenever the footage of a mourning community began to roll.  I tried to push the thoughts far from my mind as I looked at my own children.  But I found myself weeping, the reality pushing in despite my efforts to keep just such thoughts at arms length...The world is broken...My heart is broken..And so I do the only thing I know to do...I pray..........

This past week, I found myself, yet again, standing frozen in the middle of a pizza parlor watching the images of a shooting at a school, this time at a college not far from my comfortable little town. I thought of my college age son, my soon to be college bound daughter, and my joy filled youngest son, so unaware of what evil exists within the world.  And, again, with my eyes misting over....I prayed. I prayed for the residents of Roseburg, for the families touched by the tragedy, for those faithful flocking to the school to offer help and encouragement.  And I prayed for God to remind me to lean into Him, to comfort the fear I felt rising within me....To remind me that while evil exists and tomorrow is uncertain, He has overcome this world.  And so,  I choose today, yet again , to hold to His promises, to not give in to fear, but rather to release myself to continue to love others as He has called me to do.  To live my life in such a way that answers the question to all those around me, the question asked by the shooter last week to those in that classroom, " Are you a christian?".

The Christmas Card Hallmark will Never Print

Last night I went to a church function and had a wonderful dinner.  After dinner, I joined a band onstage and sang carols to the crowd.  The lights in the sanctuary were dimmed and the trees behind me sparkled, the lights glowing softly and reflecting off the walls.  It was a wonderful time, filled with laughter and warmth.  I left and went to a house where the Christmas tree dominates the dining room and the stockings are indeed "hung with care".  During this Christmas season, most of our homes will be filled with the aroma of baked yummies and the sound of our favorite Christmas tunes playing in the living room.  Many of us will force our kids to sit still while their photos are taken in clothes they never actually wear and then send out Christmas cards to people we never actually see.  We will head out to parties and drink egg nog.  We will go to the fire station and take down a name from the tree so that we can buy a toy for a tot.  On the Sunday prior to Christmas, people who haven't been to church since Easter will crowd into churches all across America and sing about the birth of Jesus Christ.  In many of these churches, the pastor will open up his Bible and turn to Luke where he will read the Christmas story full of Heavenly Choirs and worshiping shepherds.  Afterwards, the masses will file out with smiling faces and look forward to opening up their presents in a few short days.

 But there is another event which accompanied the arrival of our Savior upon that dusty backwater region of Israel.  And while you will find Christmas card after Christmas card displaying beautiful angels and adorable nativity scenes, you will never see a card telling this tale nor hear a carol sung in a church.  It is the tale of  mad King Herod, driven insane with paranoia and insecurity, ordering the slaughter of every male infant beneath the age of two.  It is the tale of a legion of Roman soldiers, professional killers all, descending upon a sleepy little burg unaware of the horror coming its way.  Instead of angelic hosts singing in the moonlit sky, it is the sound of terrified parents and screaming babies as they are wrenched from their mothers arms and murdered in the dusty streets.  Instead of Christmas lights, it is the flash of torches reflecting in swords as they strike every male child beneath the age of two in Bethlehem.  It was a horrific and unspeakable act...And one that hearkened the arrival of God on the earth.  You see, God had entered the enemies territory...God had begun the rescue.( Matt. 2:16-18 )


You see, the greatest rescue attempt the universe had ever seen was met with desperate resistance from the enemy who desired nothing so much as to kill and murder all those that the king loves so dearly.  The Little town of Bethlehem did not sleep peacefully on that night.  

This season, there are many families among us sleeping restlessly themselves...They are suffering from the pain of a spouse turning their back on the promises they made,   friends and loved ones struggling with the fear and confusion which cancer has delivered into their lives, the horrible toll which the chemo has extracted from them  parents who must watch their children suffer through no fault of their own, who must now mourn all that they had thought their child would become as they face the uncertain reality of what the future now holds for them instead.  All around us are people who see the lights and festive yard ornaments promising "Peace" and feel like strangers in their own lives.  They want to scream "What Peace?!"......

But the arrival of God into the lives of men on that night so many years ago did not bring peace.  It brought HOPE!  Hope for all those who so desperately need it.  Hope for the confused.  Hope for the hurting.  Hope that they have a future.  Hope that, despite their present circumstances, God will provide.  Because what that night, long ago in that stable proved to them is that they are not forgotten, they are not alone.

I was once told by a wise man that the two most powerful forces in the universe are hope and forgiveness....Because of Christmas, we have access to both.








 

Twilight, Team Edward and my Daughter

For many years, I have felt the tension that arises from being a believer who lives in a secular world.  Growing up in the church, I can remember the heated debates over the merits of christian music versus the sensuous beat of rock and roll.  I once worked at a christian school where an administrator was outraged that we introduced drums into the chapel worship time.  During my first year of teaching, a student hid his copy of a Stephen King novel as I walked by and was shocked by my familiarity with the author.  I have read the entire Harry Potter series and yet have some people in my life whom I respect who feel that believers should avoid such things.  I have no problem listening to the opinions of other believers and I have, at times, changed an opinion that I held after just such a discussion.   The tension that arises from the freedoms we possess as Christians living under grace, free from the law, is very real and requires wisdom and prayer to reconcile.  I do not suppose to have all the answers.

Over the past few years, the Twilight series of books and movies has become incredibly popular.  This series revolving around the love between a mortal girl Bella and her vampire lover Edward is complicated by the amorous feelings which Jacob, a young werewolf, has for her....yeah, I know...Throw in vampire babies and sparkling skin and the fact that this series gained popularity is beyond me also.  Its cheesy, poorly written, the movies are horribly acted, the plot lines are tedious....And I've read them all.

I did so because my daughter and her friends were all reading them and I wanted to be involved in the conversations that these young teenage girls were having.  I have playfully listed the merits of Jacob vs. Edward over pizza ( Jacob is much cooler, Edward is a skinny wimp ) and rented the movies, popped popcorn and subjected myself to the worst acting I have ever seen...Because I am a Dad, and that's what dads do.

But now I can confess the truth....I hate these books.  They go against every thing I believe, none of which have anything to do with vampires, werewolves, etc..  Again, I know of many people who have told me that a believer should not read such things and I will leave that for others to decide for themselves.  But as a youth pastor, the message in this series is far more subtle and dangerous than sparking vampires and shirtless werewolves.  My daughter will never meet a sparkling perpetual teenage vampire with glowing eyes and great hair.  She will never meet a dark and brooding werewolf with great abs.  But she will meet a teenage boy with great hair and a sparkling tongue, one that spews forth what she wants so much to hear.  She will meet brooding and troubled bad boys who will tell her that only she "understands" them...

Anyone who works with teenagers can tell you heartbreaking stories of young girls who so desperately wanted to be loved, to feel special, that they entered into relationships that gave birth to brokenness and heartache.  The real storyline of Twilight is not one of love but of obsession, of a teenage girl who is willing to give up her friends, her family and her life for a boy.  It is page after page outlining what in real life is not romantic but tragic for those of us who have witnessed it.  It is the re-telling of a lie older than myself.  Star crossed young lovers who the world was against...Romeo and Juliet died in a double suicide....Not love, not romantic, just tragic.

I want my daughter to know what love really looks like.  It looks like two people loving each other enough to let them be themselves.  It looks like a couple waiting til marriage to have sex because they want whats best not just for themselves but even more for each other.  It looks like a wedding in front of your friends and family, your dad crying as he walks you up the aisle.  It looks like long walks planning your future and asking God to be a part of it.  It looks like a mother holding a child for the very first time as her husband just stares, equal parts amazed and terrified.  It looks like your husband working long hours but still finding the energy to sit and play tea party with a little girl who wore her tea dress all day waiting for daddy to get home.  It looks like the day that everything goes wrong and your world is turned upside down, but this man, this father, stands in the gap, giving strength he doesn't have to his little family so that they can heal and believe.  It looks like doing shifts in the hospital tending to one child and then heading home and loving your others so that they feel safe. It looks like using all of your vacation time to support whatever season your children are in, soccer, football, cheer, baseball, track, wrestling.  Driving long hours all day only to return just in time for your husband to head to his graveyard shift.  You want to see real love?  Watch a bus as it pulls away to drive two hours to the zoo on a field trip.  You will see love scrunched up in a seat next to his or her child who's chatting a mile a minute, blissfully unaware that their parent was up all night cleaning up vomit and worse from another child who woke them up from a deep slumber with their retching.  Find a Sunday School class and watch a parent who gives of their time to give their child the one thing they need the most.  Watch a football game or a cheerleading competition and see the child decked out in all the gear they need and then scan to the smiling parent in the stands: the one holding the camera and wearing 5 year old jeans they bought at a thrift store....

Real love doesn't always sparkle.  It doesn't always have great abs.  Often it eventually loses its hair and puts on weight...But it is real.  It shows up, doesn't back down and it never leaves.  Even when the world tells it that it has no reason to stay, it does.  

You want to see real love.  Watch the old man who tends to his wife.  Cuts her food, wipes her chin, takes her to the rest room and puts her to bed. Even though he knows that this side of Heaven, she will never again remember their life together; the children they raised, the dreams they had, even his name....But he stays, and honors his vows, and he loves her.

You want to see real love, put down the book and look around...Real love is all around you.

Whats Wrong With Being So Right?

I have three children.  The first two are strong and perfect in every way that our society measures worth.  My oldest son is a gifted musician and athlete. He has thrown out 8 base runners in a baseball game, hit 7 3-pointers in a high school basketball game and had his football runs replayed on the news.  He plays the bass, lead and rhythm guitar on our church worship team and is currently getting near straight A's.  He is funny and handsome with a bright and sensitive mind that continually surprises me.  My daughter, born second, is a tremendous athlete and scholar.  Steadfast and secure in her talents and abilities, she is beautiful and possesses a mind of which her 6th grade teacher  said is fortunate for a teacher to see once in a career.  She has been a nationally ranked sprinter, scored 21 of her teams 21 points in a basketball game, thrown out 3 runners at 1st base from right field in a softball game and never gotten less than an A in her academic career. I am often the target of her biting humor.... 

My youngest son is little where his siblings are both muscular.  He struggles with keeping up with his classmates in academics where his siblings excel.  Whereas his brother and sister have strong and pleasant singing voices, he has speech issues and didn't speak until he was nearly 6 years old.  They both entered the world strong and robust, loudly announcing their arrival.  He entered sick and dying, enduring surgeries early in his life.

This past week, someone again asked me the question that I have learned to respond to without the irritation I have always felt upon hearing it.  " Whats wrong with Caden?"....

I answered with my well rehearsed response giving a brief outline of his medical journey but I was left with a vague sense that the question was somehow not the right one.  So after having some time to consider it, I have a better response...

Whats wrong with seeing the best in everyone? Making friends immediately with someone you've never met but has a smile that matches your own?

Whats wrong with being so filled with joy that everyone who meets you is drawn in and feels the warmth of the experience?

Whats wrong with loving a sport you'll never play so much that you grab a jersey, get out of school on gamedays and ride the bus with the team so you can be the ballboy?

Whats wrong with practicing for hours and days and months on end so that you can throw the perfect spiral, kick it deep from a tee and hit jump shots from deep in your driveway?

Whats wrong with having a smile that never leaves your face ( except when the day must end )?

Whats wrong with loving music so much that you sing loudly to the words you know and mumble through the rest until that chorus comes around again?

Whats wrong with dancing uninhibitedly, hitting your goofy poses until people erupt in laughter in response?

Whats wrong with having a personality so big that everyone at the football game, the basketball game and every practice field knows your name and keeps an eye out for the ball which will inevitably come their way as you unleash a perfect touchdown pass?

Whats wrong with idolizing your strong and perfect siblings?

Whats wrong with you being their hero?...Whats wrong with that?

For you created my inmost being;  you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made

Football, Kids and Matching trousers

The pre-game prayer

I'm a football coach.  Over the past 13 years, I have had the privilege to coach every age group from 5th grade to high school varsity.  This year I took over the junior high program with my primary responsibility being serving as the Head Coach of the 8th grade team.  Since mid-August, we have been preparing for our first game, sweating through wind sprints beneath the hot sun, the sound of pads popping on late afternoons. Excited parents attended practices, the air rich with expectation and possibility.  The team has some talent, kids who love the game and have been blessed with the ability to match their passion.  Yesterday, the kids put on their scarlet and white uniforms and boarded the bus for our first game.  I sat in my customary spot on the first row of the bus, feeling good in my coordinated coaching gear; red, white and black, even down to my shoes.  I had ordered new hats and shirts for the coaching staff and dictated that black slacks be worn so that we looked sharp.  We drove the hour and a half to the game, excited to play beneath the lights on a beautiful turf field.  As the sun went down and the lights came on, we came together on the field, clapping and barking.  I gave an emotional speech about relishing the moment, playing to the best of your ability.  the whistle blew, the kickoff sailed through the air.......And we lost 33-0.

I'm a youth pastor.  Over my adult life, I have had the privilege to serve as a juvenile counselor for kids who have been damaged by life and loved ones.  I have been in the living rooms of families dealing with tragedy and been at the altar as a child I ministered to as a teen has asked me to be a part of their wedding day.  My wife and I have held teenagers in our arms on our couch as they collapsed beneath the shame and regret of a decision they can never take back.  I have given my Sundays, Wednesdays, Mondays as an investment in the lives of those I feel are so precious to God.  I have driven miles to sit and sweat in gyms so that a kid on a bench can look in the stands and feel support.  I have crowded into swimming pools thick with humidity and humanity so that a teenager, shaved hairless and stuffed into a speedo can introduce me to his parents and give me an uncomfortable wet hug.  I have sat and listened to parents as they wept over a child and rejoiced with them years later as their child found Christ.

Last night, as the bus travelled through the darkness, I sat alone in the front row and wondered what went wrong. I had let down the kids, their parents.  I texted my wife and kids the game results and responded to the encouraging texts from parents with a cheerfulness which I did not feel.  My matching ensemble gave me no comfort in the aftermath of such a beating.  After I got home, I sat alone in the living room and replayed the game; what could I have done differently?!..Around midnight, I threw my color coordinated black slacks in the hamper and trudged off to bed.


This morning, I walked into the church office still embarrassed about my failure to win an 8th grade football game.  Before I could make it to my office, my co-workers asked how the game went.  I recounted how I had lost, the kids played listless, we missed tackles and blew assignments.  My mood was evident as they listened to my sad tale.  Our office manager listened the entire time with a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.   As I finished, she said, " Well, you might want to hear this...She told me how she had went on a walk with the mother of one of my players last night and recounted the question the mom had asked her, "Do you know Don Knight?” I told her I did and that I didn’t care for him…..just kidding…..anyway she went on to say that it was an answer to prayer and a relief to know that her junior high son was being coached by a “real man” who would teach him not only football, but what good men look like....

It is so easy to be distracted from our calling, to let the enemy conspire with our flesh to make us doubt the role we play as believers.  We are more than coaches, or teachers, or businessmen and loggers.  We are ministers of the Gospel.  Both in word and deed, we have an impact upon every individual that crosses our path.

I'm a football coach. I'm a minister...So are you.

Sunday Morning: The Stories You Never Hear

Somewhere this weekend, these are the stories a visitor to your church will not tell you.....

"I made the decision this week to visit your church.  My life is so hard right now.  Everything is going wrong.  Over the past year, my marriage has crumbled.  This past month, my husband moved out.  He told me that he had never even loved me.  How can a person say that?!  We have three beautiful children and now I'm supposed to tell them their parents are getting a divorce?...  It breaks my heart.  I can see they are trying to not make me sad, but I can feel their pain.  I'm so scared. "


"I came to your church this past week.  It was all I could do to stay in the service.  I haven't been in church for over a year, my wife was too sick.  The cancer came on last year and within a year she was gone.  Everywhere I go there are reminders of her.  Her clothes are still in our closet,  the bathroom is filled with her makeup, her hair stuff.  The house smells like the lotion she wore, her perfume...  I haven't slept in our bed since she passed.  I sleep on the couch if I sleep at all.  I find myself talking to her in the kitchen and then realize she's not here.  And then at church, it happened again.  You took an offering.  For 30 years, my wife wrote our tithe check every month.  When I saw the bag coming down the aisle, it all hit me again.  She is gone.  And I am so lonely."


"I visited your church last Sunday.  I had seen all the verses and quotes that so many of your church goers posted on Facebook so I figured I'd give it a try.  I have a really hard time around people.  I just feel like everyone is looking at me and judging me.  Its hard to make a mistake in a small town.  I feel like everyone knows what I did and is talking about me behind my back.  After the affair, I tried to stay away from people.  It was so hard.  I lost my kids, my home, even most of my friends stopped coming around.  But this past week, I saw those verses on Facebook and something happened inside of me. I wanted...something.  When I got to your church, I walked alone into your lobby.  All around me, people were talking with their friends.  A man said hello and gave me a bulletin and then resumed talking with his buddy.  I overheard something about football.  I went into the sanctuary and sat alone.  A few people smiled at me as they walked by.  You guys sang some songs, but I felt self conscience sitting alone.  When the pastor told people to say hi to people, the couple with their kids in front of me turned and awkwardly said hello.  I didn't know it would be the last time anyone spoke to me that Sunday.  After the service, I tried to say hello to the pastor, but he was laughing with someone up front.  I walked out of the sanctuary and had to navigate around groups of people talking to their friends.  I walked alone to my car and drove home.  What do I do now?"






‘Lord, when did we see You hungry, and feed You, or thirsty, and give You something to drink? ³⁸ And when did we see You a stranger, and invite You in, or naked, and clothe You? ³⁹ When did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’ ⁴⁰ The King will answer and say to them, ‘Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.’

40 Pieces of Fatherly Advice

  In my minds eye, my children are still little, playing with their bikes and stuffed animals, bringing me Dr.Seuss books to read at bedtime while they snuggle close against my shoulder.  They used to drop everything and run to meet my car when I pulled into the driveway.  Now my oldest is driving my car. My daughter entered high school today.  My first born only has two more years before he heads out to college and my baby boy hits junior high next year.  The time has flown by. I sound like all the fathers who went before me as I ask people, "Where did the time go?!".  But within my melancholy lies a deeper question...Have I taught them what they need to know?  I'm not sure, so here is a partial list.....

1.Your direction, not your intentions, determine your destination.
2. Never burn your bridges
3. Keep your receipts.
4. Look people in the eye when you have a conversation.
5. Remember to eat at the table, those are the meals you remember.
6. Always speak clearly at the drive-thru.
7. That horrible haircut that stressed you out?  You will laugh about it later.
8. TATTOOS ARE PERMANENT!
9. Treasure your time with your siblings...I know, I know, just trust me....
10. Get off the computer, stop texting and go play catch outside.
11. That one person who always tells you the truth, even when it hurts, is your best friend.
12.Josie...Boys are stupid.
13. Jesus loves everybody...Treat them accordingly.
14.  The only way to avoid a broken heart is to never love anything.
15. Others are looking to you for strength, stand firm for what you believe. You may find out years later that you made a difference in someones life.
16. Never lie to yourself, ask God to search your heart, and listen for His response.
17. Spencer... Girls want to be treasured, not groped.  Be a Godly example for all of them, not just your girlfriend.
18. Theres no such thing as " Easy Payments"!
19. Never be afraid to take the last shot.
20. Its true, always wear clean underwear, you just feel better.
21. That person mocking you for your beliefs wished that they felt as strongly about something.  Years from now they will tell you they always respected you....Don't let them down.
22. Josie..Every boy thinks he's the hero of his story.
23. Josie and Spencer...You are the heroes of your little brothers story.
24. Always use your gifts to lift others up, never to push them down.
25. There will come a time when you must bear the consequences of following your conscience. Do so without complaint.
26. I'm sorry, but one day you will act just like me...Again, I'm sorry.
27. Watch old married couples who hold hands.  They will teach you more about love than a lifetime of sappy songs and facebook quotes.
28. No matter where, no matter when, your dad will come get you if you need him.
29. Spencer, one day you will marry someone like your mother...And be blessed because of it.
30. Turn up the music, laugh and dance with your Dad....
31. Never miss an opportunity to tell someone how much they mean to you.
32. Have at least one great pair of jeans.
33. Only date those people who already have what you're looking for. Don't expect to change those who don't.  It may be you who changes.
34. Learn at least one cool skill; spinning a ball, juggling, armpit noises, anything that will surprise your kids later.
35. Seek the career that honors your unique design.
36. Go to college
37. Know that your Dad made many mistakes, but marrying your mother was the smartest thing he ever did.
38. Life is hard, people are difficult.  How you respond is your choice, not their fault.
39. Get a dog, give him a cool name...Like Tebow.
40. Never ever use money to measure wealth!