My King

A few weeks ago I wrote about church marketing and how it’s really quite ineffective for today’s audience.
Over the last few weeks I’ve been blessed over and abundantly by my church, my parent’s church and my sister Amy’s church and more importantly by God.
If there was only some way to bottle up those blessings and sell them on the open market -- we would make a fortune.
We do have the greatest message and product known to man, but I still don’t know how to share it with the rest of the world.
This past weekend I heard a sermon again for the first time.
It thrilled me to hear it again and thought, ‘This is how we should market Christianity. If people get this, they’ll get the greatest message ever told.”
It’s a simple message that needs to be shared with the entire world.
So, while reading the transcript is no where near as powerful as actually hearing it read by its author, I hope that you will begin to understand how great a message Christians really have.
My King
My King was born King. The Bible says He’s a Seven Way King.
He’s the King of the Jews – that’s a racial King.
He’s the King of Israel – that’s a National King.
He’s the King of righteousness.
He’s the King of the ages.
He’s the King of Heaven.
He’s the King of glory.
He’s the King of kings and He is the Lord of lords.
Now that’s my King. Well I wonder if you know Him. Do you know Him? Don’t try to mislead me. Do you know my King?
David said the Heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament shows His handiwork.
My King is the only one whom there are no means of measure can define His limitless love.
No far seeing telescope can bring into visibility the coastline of His shore of supplies.
No barriers can hinder Him from pouring out His blessing.
Well, well, He’s enduringly strong.
He’s entirely sincere.
He’s eternally steadfast. He’s immortally graceful.
He’s imperially powerful. He’s impartially merciful. That’s my King.
He’s God’s Son. He’s the sinner’s savior. He’s the centerpiece of civilization.
He stands alone in Himself. He’s honest. He’s unique. He’s unparalleled. He’s unprecedented. He’s supreme. He’s pre-eminent.
Well, He’s the grandest idea in literature.
He’s the highest personality in philosophy.
He’s the supreme problem in high criticism.
He’s the fundamental doctrine of proved theology.
He’s the carnal necessity of spiritual religion. That’s my King.
He’s the miracle of the age. He’s the superlative of everything good that you choose to call Him.
Well, He’s the only one able to supply all of our needs simultaneously.
He supplies strength for the weak.
He’s available for the tempted and the tried.
He sympathizes and He saves.
He’s strong God and He guides. He heals the sick. He cleanses the lepers.
He forgives sinners. He discharged debtors.
He delivers the captives. He defends the feeble.
He blesses the young. He serves the unfortunate. He regards the aged.
He rewards the diligent and He beautifies the meek. Do you know Him?
Well, my King is a King of knowledge. He’s the wellspring of wisdom. He’s the doorway of deliverance. He’s the pathway of peace. He’s the roadway of righteousness.
He’s the highway of holiness. He’s the gateway of glory. He’s the master of the mighty. He’s the captain of the conquerors.
He’s the head of the heroes. He’s the leader of the legislatures. He’s the overseer of the overcomers.
He’s the governor of governors. He’s the prince of princes. He’s the King of kings and He’s the Lord of lords. That’s my King.
Yeah. Yeah. That’s my King. My King, yeah.
His office is manifold. His promise is sure. His light is matchless.
His goodness is limitless. His mercy is everlasting.
His love never changes. His Word is enough. His grace is sufficient. His reign is righteous. His yoke is easy and His burden is light.
Well. I wish I could describe Him to you, but He’s indescribable.
He’s indescribable. Yes. He’s incomprehensible. He’s invincible. He’s irresistible. I’m coming to tell you, the heavens of heavens cannot contain Him, let alone a man explaining Him.
You can’t get Him out of your mind. You can’t get Him off of your hands. You can’t outlive Him and you can’t live without Him.
Well, Pharisees couldn’t stand Him, but they found out they couldn’t stop Him. Pilot couldn’t find any fault in Him. The witnesses couldn’t get their testimonies to agree.
Herod couldn’t kill Him. Death couldn’t handle Him and the grave couldn’t hold Him. That’s my King. Yeah.
He always has been and He always will be. I’m talking about He had no predecessor and He’ll have no successor.
There’s nobody before Him and there’ll be nobody after Him. You can’t impeach Him and He’s not going to resign. That’s my King! That’s my King!
Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory. Well, all the power belongs to my King.
We’re around here talking about black power and white power and green power, but it’s God’s power.
Thine is the power. Yeah. And the glory. We try to get prestige and honor and glory for ourselves, but the glory is all His. Yes.
Thine is the Kingdom and the power and glory, forever and ever and ever and ever. How long is that? And ever and ever and ever and ever. And when you get through with all of the forevers, then, Amen.
—Dr. S. M. Lockridge
Dr. Lockridge was the Pastor of Calvary Baptist Church, San Diego from 1953 - 1993. He entered heaven in 2000.
For an audio version of this transcript visit: http://www.theiowaharvest.com/harvestholler/archives/000085.html

Modern Day Medical Miracles

By Kara Blundell

There are new discoveries made everyday and advances made that promote our everyday quality of life. Babies are born with syndromes that could cause nearly immediate death. People are traumatized into a comatose state. Medical doctors have an important and prominent place in society as they use the new discoveries to give a child a shot at a normal life, and bring a patient out of a comma back to a functional state of living. We depend on our doctor’s knowledge to heal our pains and ease our hurts. Medicine has come a long way, but it never actually holds power over life and death.
My sister spent the last month of her life in and out of the hospital. No doctor could give her a clear diagnosis. Once she was even dismissed saying it was just a migraine. She had two spinal taps, several MRIs, CAT Scans, and every test in the book run on her. A world known neurologist was assigned to her case even with his team of experts they never figured out what was really going on in her body. It was not until her third trip to the hospital that they found a tumor on her kidney. This tumor was unlike any they had seen. They said it was 5 by 8 cm and excreting a hormone that caused her blood pressure to sore into the 200s. She was in immense pain that even Morphine could not sooth. The doctors planed to medicate the tumor and then operate when it was safely at rest. We all thought they would take care of her. We were thankful that modern science and the knowledge of the team of experts had finally found the cause of her pain. We eagerly awaited her healing and her soon approaching wedding day, but this time the doctors did not know enough and to their shock her heart gave out on March 21, 2005 and even the doctors are left with questions of how and why.
A preliminary autopsy report came back with astounding results. The tumor was described like a football and the average size of this kind of tumor is usually pea sized. An average person has 550 units of the hormone it was excreting. Amy’s tumor poisoned her body with over 40,000 units of this hormone and caused the left side of her heart to enlarge. The pathologist had never seen anything like this and they have no explanation. All the doctors were amazed she was alive as long as she was.
Amy blew them all away and all medical knowledge they have can not explain what happened in my sister’s body. Medicine is an amazing thing and has greatly helped in many ways, but we must remember that no matter how much stem cell research we do, no matter the technology we use in intervening there is still a force greater then us. The doctors could not heal my sister, but God knew exactly what was going on in her body and he healed her from suffering for forever. I believe that God can use doctors as a tool to bring healing to his children, but ultimately there is no stopping God’s plan. We have been blessed with medical advances and he has given us great knowledge, but the true medical miracle is seen in the power of an almighty God. He brought my sister into the world and created her to bless my life and the lives of over 800 people that attended her funeral. Ultimately he created her for his glory and was ready to take her to be with him forever. We are all blown away with what went on inside my sister’s body and we can not explain it. It was a miracle to us she was alive as long as she was, but this was no shock to the Lord. He knew this day before he formed her. She was his gift to us and her life was a miracle.

“The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away blessed be the name of the Lord”

blu38705@obu.edu

When the Rains Come

This past Sunday I shared a video with my Sunday school class about a father and son caught in a rain storm.
The father told the story of a hike he took with his young 16-month old son riding in a pack on his back.
As they neared the half-way-point of the hike the skies opened up and a soaking rain poured down on them.
The father mentioned that for his son, the storm became his reality.
He knew nothing else – and it scared him.
How often do storms in our life become our reality?
How often do we feel like there is nothing else left but the soaking rain that is drenching us at that very moment?
I’ve been in that situation too many times.
It’s easy to get caught up in the moment and forget that “This too will pass.”
It’s easy to think all hope is lost.
Think about Jesus’ disciples on the Sea of Galilee. They were certain of their pending death.
But luckily they remembered who was sound asleep in the boat with them.
The same man who said, “Cry out to me and I will hear your cry and will answer you,” was laying in the boat with them.
So what did they do? The only thing left for them to do. They cried out to Jesus.
And like any other time people cry out to Jesus – He hears and responds.
He calms the storm. He protects us from the waves and holds us close.
The father in the story said that as his son screamed in stereo, he pulled his son off of his back and held him close in his arms.
He leaned over as he held him and whispered to him, “I love you buddy. It’s OK. We’re gonna make it. I know the way home.”
He continued holding his son and whispering the same thing to him as they continued the on the way home.
Whatever your cry is, Jesus is reaching out and saying, “I love you buddy. It’s OK. We’re gonna make it. I know the way home.”

A Life Worth Living

Last week as many of you may know, my family buried my sister Amy. I never dreamed that day would come. I don’t think anyone did.
Amy was full of life, energy and love for her friends, family and most importantly her Lord and Savior.
I was honored to write Amy’s obituary, but I felt inadequate as I finished the biography of 24 years.
How could 24 marvelous years be summed up in 329 words?
We sat on Tuesday afternoon going through boxes and boxes of photos Amy had collected during her short life.
If a picture is worth a thousand words, how could 329 words suffice?
I began to wonder how long my obituary might be.
I’m certain its length would be longer. I am two years older than Amy and she always considered me the “social butterfly” of our family. While I was always ready to jump into the next big thing, she was quietly memorizing scripture or spending time with her closest friends.
I remember after I transferred to The University of Mary Hardin-Baylor Amy would be frustrated when people knew her as “Jonathan’s little sister.”
After all, she did arrive at UMHB an entire year before I did.
She was never the outgoing, outspoken member of our family.
As a middle child I think she gave up trying to steal any talk-time or spotlight away from our youngest sister or me.
But a long obituary means nothing. A life worth living is measured by quality and not quantity.
I may live to be 99, but I will always question if my life was any where near worthy of hers.
Only 329 words for an obit, but those boxes and boxes of pictures really do say so much more.
As you look through them they’re not a “who’s who” of Mesquite, Belton, Dallas or anywhere else. But they’re a “who’s who” of who really mattered to Amy.
No matter how many boxes you went through, you didn’t find too many new faces.
Amy’s group of friends were small – but they were so very close.
She wasn’t out to be involved in every club in college. She wasn’t interested in making a name for herself.
She never set out to be Ms. Popular or Ms. I Know Everybody -- but her funeral was a testimony that Amy impacted everyone she knew.
She was just here to help those nearest and dearest and live a life worthy of Christ -- and in the end she made an impact on everyone she came in contact with.
Because while the faces in Amy’s boxes were few, the lives she touched were anything but.
Everyone who knew her loved her. And to be a part of her close circle meant you were something special.
I never understood why while growing up I went through girlfriends like dirty socks and Amy never dated at all.
It’s because she knew what she was looking for and she wasn’t going to settle for anything less.
She had her list and checked it twice.
If you didn’t meet her expectations, see you later, you won't get her attention.
That’s why I know God placed her fiancé Matt in her life. She wouldn’t take anything less than God’s best.
When Amy was hitting her early teens I was reminded how she was so worried about how she looked and how no guy would ever want to date her.
My best friend Matt consoled her saying, “Amy you’re beautiful. Someday your prince will come and take you away.”
That meant the world to her and she waited expectantly for her prince.
Her prince finally arrived nearly 10 years later.
Matt came into her life on a white horse and stole her heart away (much to the frustration of a way-too protective older brother.)
But despite any fears or doubts, Matt was Amy’s Proven Prince.
They were so in love. Not only with each other but with their God and Savior.
And as Amy laid in hospital beds and rested at home over the last month, Matt proved himself over and over again to everyone.
There is no one else I would have rather have had standing in my place protecting her from the world and its hurts and pains.
But while Matt was Amy’s Proven Prince here on earth, her Heavenly Prince Jesus Christ comforted her so much more.
She loved nothing more than reading His love letters to her and talking with Him.
She talked about Him constantly. She did everything she could to make Him happy.
And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that when she walked through the pearly gates of heaven her Heavenly Prince said, “Well done, my good and faithful servant. Welcome home.”
My parent’s pastor told the Easter Sunday congregation that he had received an e-mail shortly after Amy’s funeral.
The e-mail said that the writer had never really known Amy but they regretted that tremendously after attending her funeral.
The writer said that Amy was a true example of a life given to Christ and a lifestyle of evangelism.
Amy’s life was a testimony to Christ and a testimony to lifestyle evangelism.
She often wondered how she could reach her co-workers for Christ and how she could reach those around her. But she did it the best way she knew how -- living a life focused on Christ.
For many of us, it takes 20, 30, or maybe even 70 or 80 years to figure out this thing called life.
But I’m quite certain Amy had it all figured out when she was three years old, sitting in a bathtub.
She made a decision that would affect the rest of her life, by accepting Christ as her Lord and Savior.
There was no evangelist breathing fire and brimstone down her neck, no flashy media presentation, no pressure to walk the aisle with her friends, just a burning desire in her heart to be like the Christians she knew and more importantly -- to be like Christ.
Yet even as I wrap up this column I feel like 1060 words are not near enough.
I could write many more volumes on my sister, Amy Elizabeth Blundell. And even still, she would be embarrassed with the little I’ve written here.
I love you Amy and we all miss you greatly.

Church Marketing Sucks

I must tell you – I love technology.
As I write this, I’m sitting on my back porch, enjoying a gorgeous first night of spring, while listening to a radio station beamed directly to me via a satellite from New York City and surfing the Internet via a wireless hub one of my neighbors apparently set up.
Amazing.
Now if I could just get my dogs to quit trying to lick my face, life would be grand.
And what’s even better, with Belton’s new Wi-Fi network sprouting up, I could be sitting anywhere in the city doing this same thing in the near future.
As I was surfing the web last week I came across a website that has captivated my attention: www.churchmarketingsucks.com.
If the name doesn’t catch your attention, many of the entries or blogs should.
I think I’ve spent three or four hours over the last several days reading through the site.
Now there’s probably many of you who are immediately turned off by the title of the site, and for you there’s the alternative, www.churchmarketingstinks.com.
And there may be more of you who are offended by the subject matter, for you – sorry, but I think the site developers are on to something.
The writers on the site raise some very interesting questions.
Why is it that Christianity has the greatest message ever, but we have the hardest time sharing it with the masses, or even our neighbors?
“We love the Church,” said Brad Abare, founder and regular contributor to the site. “But when it comes to communicating with an increasingly savvy world, the church is being left behind.”
I think the church in America has had a spark lit under it recently with The Passion of the Christ, but how many people are still sitting in a theater wondering about Christianity because no one has stepped up to explain their faith in a real way?
“This is a conversation, an idea—not a business,” said writer Kevin Hendricks. “We’re in this to see the Church become more authentic and effective, to see not simply butts in pews, but Christ in hearts.”
In December Wired Magazine reported a story about a high school computer teacher who made a complete advertisement on his computer for Apple’s iPod.
The commercial made by high school teacher George Masters has all the makings of a prime-time quality advertisement.
And his 60-second commercial has been getting a lot of attention from bloggers, e-mail, advertising reps and now Wired Magazine.
Gary Stein, an online advertising analyst with Jupiter Research, was struck by the quality of the ad.
“It shows great advertising principles,” Stein told Wired Magazine. “He’s computer-literate, but he’s also literate in the language of advertising.... You could take this thing and put it on MTV this afternoon. It’s not only good, it’s good advertising. People go to college to learn this. He just gets it.”
“Why would a school teacher spend a good chunk of his free time, for five months, crafting a really slick ad for no money? For no real recognition other than a, ‘Hey, that’s cool,’ from a few friends? Because he really, really likes his iPod,” wrote Andy Havens. “Masters frankly admits that he partly worked on the project as a way of teaching himself some computer animation basics, and to be part of a portfolio. That being said, why pick the iPod mini as his subject? Because he’s a huge fan. And let’s remember that ‘fan’ is short for ‘fanatic.’”
I think every pastor or lay-leader would love members of their congregation to be that fanatical about church events or activities.
I know I would be.
Why is it that people will spend hours creating a commercial for a small music gadget, paint their entire bodies and lose their voice while screaming for their favorite football team, but can’t spend an extra hour volunteering at their church?
The Church Marketing Sucks staff would say it’s all about marketing.
We haven’t marketed our message properly to our own members, yet alone the rest of the world.
Have you ever witnessed the excitement a new convert has? They’re willing to do anything and tell everyone about what Christ has done for them.
When I met with WWE Superstar Shawn Michaels last week, he said that when he came to know Christ, he told his pastor he wanted to do anything needed at the church, including janitor work, if that’s what was needed.
But somewhere along the road the message gets lost.
Christ just isn’t as cool as the first day we met him.
We lose track of what He’s really done for us.
My dad’s told me several times, “It’s just easy for me to talk about everything God has done for me.”
We get so caught up in our daily rituals that we don’t really realize the cost Christ paid on Calvary 2000 years ago. It takes a holy day like Easter to get us back on track – for at least one Sunday out of the year.
Marketing is way more than just advertising.
Marketing is finding ways to make things run smoother and making people feel apart of your company, organization or group.
Apple Computer owners are some of the most loyal customers in the world, I know because I work for one of them.
It’s because Apple makes each customer feel apart of the company.
They make products that customers can truly take ownership in and work in their lives.
McDonald’s is another marketing giant.
It doesn’t matter what country you’re in, when you see those golden arches, you think Big Mac or Quarter-Pounder with Cheese.
Both companies are have strongly branded their message to their audience.
But think about the church, we’re sending one giant mixed signal to the world.
Don’t do this, you can do this, but not that. Don’t attend that church, our church is better.
And I’ll pick on my own church for a moment; we’ve been advertising an event coming up with two different times.
How confusing is that for our members, let alone someone driving by or surfing on the web.
Our website says one thing and our marquee says something different. I have no idea what our bulletin says, because quite frankly I don’t read it. I use the internet to get my information.
But according to the church marquee, I’d be showing up 30 minutes late if I went by the time posted on the internet.
Even last week I had posted the time for one of the events in our singles department on the internet, but someone else gave a later time to be published in the bulletin.
I’m still trying to figure out where the church’s phone number, address, service times or even a statement of what we believe are posted on our website.
We need better communication within our churches -- not only between our members, but to those outside our doors.
Why don’t we come together as a body of Christ -- for our common goal -- to bring people to Christ and show His love to them all?
Why can’t First Baptist, First Methodist, First Pentecostal, First Whoever, join together and say, “Hey, we’re were all a bunch of lost people, just like you, before we met Christ?”
Quit fighting for the largest congregations, quit arguing over theological issues in public that the world will never understand – it’s foolishness to them.
It’s amazing that a number of churches continue to grow, but yet they’re not growing from new converts, they’re simply stealing from other churches.
We must first recognize the power of Christ in our lives and then market it to everyone around us.
We need to each become fanatics in our faith. Live a life that Christ lived and share His love with everyone.
Well it’s getting chilly and I’m sure my neighbors are getting tired of my great rock music blaring into the night air.
So, while I could go on for several more pages, I’ll end with this quote: “The church exists for mission, and … a church that is only inward looking is not truly the church.” -Samuel Escobar, The New Global Mission (via CT)

May His Wonders Never Cease

I wish I had a real concise way to tell you everything that I’ve witnessed in the last few weeks, but I’m pretty sure the best way to explain it all is, “May His wonders never cease.”
I’ve often heard, that illness, pain and sickness all stems from a lack of faith.
Bull.
Someone please show me an example in scripture where a person was sick or in pain because they had a lack of faith.
I’m going to step on some toes here, but the entire “Health and Wealth Doctrine” makes me sick. Try preaching the health and wealth doctrine to believers in Tsunami stricken Asia or AIDS stricken Africa.
Try and preach that if they just believe in God, He will take away their sickness and give them a Cadillac in their garage.
Now I’m not going to doubt that people were and are healed because they had great faith -- but don’t try to tell me that a person is lying in a hospital bed because they don’t have any faith.
I thought a lot about this as I received updates on one of my sisters, who was lying in a hospital bed in Dallas over the last few weeks, after suffering from several migraines and eventually a seizure.
I thought about it as I heard an update on a friend, 36 years old, who is lying in a nursing home, virtually unconscious, after several strokes.
I thought about it as I read more updates on the tragic sickness and poverty that plagues Africa and Asia.
The thoughts were even stronger as I sat in my sister’s hospital room, watching and praying, as she asked for my family members to read scripture to comfort her.
And believe me, I prayed for her miraculous recovery. I prayed that she would walk out of the hospital that very day – but God had other plans.
If I were to believe that her illness was a result of her lack of faith, I would have no choice but to curse God right now because she wasn’t able to miraculously walk out of a hospital room.
Why would God ignore her and her lifelong faith in Him as the great physician, comforter and provider?
Instead of cursing the God of Isaac, Jacob and Abraham, I know that God’s ways are unknowable and His healing power is not dependent upon my faith or Amy’s faith.
Thank goodness -- because in the midst of it all, while Amy might remain strong, my faith will waiver.
My feet have a tendency to slip from the rock of my salvation, but His hand is always there, reaching out to me and pulling me back to Him.
And while Amy didn’t get up and walk out of the hospital because someone prayed the “magic words” or had “unbelievable faith,” His wonders never cease.
Knowing me, if Amy had sat up and walked out of the hospital that day, I might have gotten a big head and thought it was my faith or my prayer that healed her, rather than looking to Jehovah-Rophe (the Lord who heals).
Amy’s condition was eventually diagnosed by one of the nation’s top neuro-specialists, hours before she was scheduled to check out.
If she had walked out of the hospital Saturday afternoon, we would still be questioning the cause of her migraines and her seizure.
But because His wonders never cease, Amy has been put to the front of the line for follow-ups and appointments with a doctor whose group sees over 30,000 patients and who flew from Atlanta to Dallas to visit with Amy and look over her tests. His wonders never cease.
-----
This past weekend I saw His wonders continue to amaze me. But neither time nor space will allow to describe all the wonders I saw.
I had the privilege to sit as a fly on a wall in a van with four wrestlers last weekend on a road trip to Knoxville, Tenn.
On a trip that lasted slightly more than 40 hours, five guys in a van grew closer than ever to each other as well as closer than ever to an amazing, wondrous God.
The five of us traveled to Knoxville, Tenn., where we joined 26,000 students to get our praise on.
We left Rockwall at 8 p.m. Thursday night, arrived in Knoxville at 10 a.m. EST, Friday and pulled out of Knoxville around midnight Friday night amazed and stunned at all we had seen.
We had sat for several hours with one of the greats in the wrestling business, Shawn Michaels -- and rather than talking about wrestling, we sat and talked about God.
We met one of the most genuine and humble players in the National Football League, Justin Griffith.
We had seen God worshiped far out of the box we try and put Him in week to week.
We got our worship on with Israel Houghton in a way that made Sunday morning seem like decaf compared to a triple espresso.
We saw hundreds, if not several thousands stand and walk to the front of an arena for an alter call.
We felt an even stronger renewal of the CWF and its ministry.
We saw God’s wonders at work 24-7. He is truly worthy of all praise.
I don’t know where God will lead me tomorrow or next week, but I continue to pray each day, “May Your wonders never cease.”

When Did it all Change

I’ve been giving a lot of thought lately to life, the meaning of life and my ultimate purpose. Sounds pretty deep, I know. Now if only I was a deep thinker, I might be able to figure this all out.
I began wondering this week how much impact I have on the world around me and how much impact the world has on me. Am I impacting my world in a good positive way, or is the world impacting me in its own way?
This feels like another quarter-life crises (just like last year), I hope I don’t go through this every year around my birthday.
Sunday our class talked about sin and its impact on the Israelites and Hosea.
And of course it’s easy to talk about how things “used to be.” And we had numerous rabbit trails we chased, talking about the good ole’ times.
Everyone remembers the good things that happened in the past and how kids used to respect their elders and T.V. was good and wholesome.
Everyone remembers when Ricky and Lucy slept in separate beds on T.V., and I think everyone has their own idea of where they’ve placed blame for the destruction of society as we know it.
I told the class, as I sat their teaching with a polo shirt and jeans on, how growing up I was never allowed to wear jeans or shorts to church. Jeans could only be considered for the evening service (something that has become almost as rare as unanimous vote on the Belton City Council).
And now I go home for the weekend and see that my dad rarely wears his suit to Sunday morning services.
I have to question, where did the change come about and was it for the better or for the worse?
Did my family and our churches loose respect for God, or did we come to a greater understanding -- that God accepts us for who we are and we don’t have to impress him with a suit and tie? Or maybe, we are trying to impress those outside the church with our blue jean services and rock and roll worship circus.
As my class talked, we agreed that many things that were taboo when our parents grew up are now common place for us.
Even things that were taboo for me 20 years ago, I have come to accept and often embraced.
I have to wonder what I will come to accept and embrace 20 years from now.
What will my children think when they read and hear stories about my growing up? Will I be an ultra-conservative to them? Will my morals be obsolete?
I read a great book Monday night, based on the brother of a close friend who has cerebral palsy. In the book, he dreams he meets Jesus and walks him through the history of mankind, all the way up to the point of Christ dying on the cross.
It struck me as I read it, that the Israelites continued to let more and more slide as they got further and further away from the Garden of Eden. And every time God would reveal Himself and show His power, they would remember for a short while, before going back to their old ways. How long will it be before we too loose sight of God completely?

Observations from a Traveling Musician

Friday night a friend and I spent an evening with singer/songwriter Allen Levi.
Now as a disclaimer, that might sound like it was me and him just hanging out – and that’s not entirely true – but in the intimate venue it felt like it was just Allen, me and a few friends.
Allen pointed out that as a singer/songwriter his main job is to notice things.
I thought that was a good job summary.
As an editor/columnist/storyteller, I think that’s my main job as well.
So in the spirit of my new job summary, I want to share some of the things I noticed (with the help of Allen).
People are big. Houses are small.
I think we’ve all seen drawings done by younger children.
People are not proportional, but yet nine-times-out-of-ten, they’re all smiling as big as they can.
They may have eight fingers on one hand and two on the other.
They may be as skinny as a blade of grass, with a giant pumpkin for a head, but they don’t mind.
They may have no clothes or feet, but the people in drawings by children, don’t seem to mind. They’re a part of a great big happy universe, where judging and laughing at others does not exist.
Allen told the story of a four-year-old friend of his who loved drawing with chalk on the sidewalk.
Her drawings were a wonderful representation of how she viewed the world.
And Levi noticed that in all of her drawings, Olivia would always draw the people big and the houses small.
These giant people that Olivia saw would never be able to fit into their tiny houses, but that wasn’t important to Olivia.
She put the importance upon the people.
And that’s what Christ did as well. He didn’t care what house you lived in, what position you held, whether you were a leper, a blind man, or a He-man. You were important in His eyes.
People are big. Houses are small.Southern Living vs. Southerners living
If we were to take two houses, you might find a stark contrast in their make up.
The house at 610 might be the picture of beauty and class.
While the house at 612 might be cluttered with bikes in the yard, mud on the floor and a wet dog chasing kids over the couch.
610 has a ghost of a man, with a wife and two kids who are never seen.
612 is a family of five who love each other and those around them.
610 never has company, they’re too busy with their job and school and soccer games.
612 never minds the interruptions of “happy lightening,” when people stop by unexpected, just to enjoy the company of friends.
It’s never really known if the people at 610 are home or gone.
The house looks the same; no one outdoors, no bright welcoming lights on and no invitations to the neighbors to visit.
You can always tell if the family at 612 is home, there kids are playing in the yard with the neighbors, the barbecue is smoking, there is laughter and music in the air, and an unwritten “Welcome” sign always hangs in the yard.
610 was pictured on a post card and a part of Southern Living magazine.
612 is the picture of where real southerners live.
Which house are you?
Are you concerned with the appearance of perfection, or the appearance of a friend?
The moon is round.
As we left the gathering Friday night, we looked up in the sky to see that the moon was about the shape of a football.
Some days, the moon is full and bright in its glory.
Other days, it’s a sliver of silver that fell to the floor from a carpenter’s bench.
And some days it doesn’t matter what shape the moon is, because the clouds are so thick you’ll never be able to see it.
But in all of its seasons, in all of its changes, the moon is round.
The moon is round on your day of birth.
The moon is round on the day you find your first love.
The moon is round on the day you get your first kiss.
The moon is round on graduation day.
The moon is round on the day you get your first promotion.
The moon is round on your wedding day.
And the moon is round when you discover you have cancer.
The moon is round when you company closes down.
The moon is round when your parents pass away.
The moon is round when your child is hurt in a car accident.
The moon is round when your spouse passes away.
And the moon is round when you pass away.
And in all of its changes and in all of its appearances, we know – the moon is still round.
“The heavens declare the glory of God. The skies proclaim the work of His hands.”
If the moon is faithful to be round, isn’t its Creator the ever more faithful?
There are many more things I learned Friday night from a storyteller, a songwriter and a singer who took the time to notice and chose not to hold it all inside like the house at 610.
What will you notice this week from the Creator?

Why we Enjoy Nostalgia

I was talked into watching a chick-flick this past weekend.
How that happens I never know, except that usually a “chick” is the one talking you into watching it.
I was assured that I would learn something about women in the process.
Well I didn’t.
But I wasted two hours confirming what I already knew about them.
Ok -- maybe that’s a little harsh.
I didn’t waste the two hours, but thanks to my mom, two sisters and previous girlfriends, I knew all the movie had to say about the opposite sex.
But after reflecting on the movie, I did learn something about society as whole.
If we look at that movie and at today’s culture there seems to be a strong yearning for a return to yesterday.
A search for nostalgia.
In the wrestling world, for the past few years, people have gone gung-ho when retired wrestlers make their return to the ring.
It didn’t take long for Hulk-A-Mania to catch fire like it did in the mid-to-late 80’s.
People went berzerk for Hulk Hogan, a.k.a Terry Bollea, as he came running down the ramp in his trademark yellow and red tank tops.
And I’ll admit it -- I was a Hulk-A-Maniac all over again.
I didn’t care that he was 50 years old -- it was great reliving the Hulk Hogan of the past, the one that I remembered watching growing up.
And to be honest, I was an even bigger fan this time around.
Nostalgia is not only rampant in the World Wrestling Entertainment Company, but all around us.
People have caught on to the nostalgia craze all over.
We want to return to the past.
A sign along I-35 advertises the city of Gruene, as “Gently resisting change since 1872.”
People will get up in arms anytime you mention any possible change to an historic site.
You can turn on VH1 almost anytime of the day and you can catch reruns of “I love the 70’s,” “I love the 80’s” and “I love the 90’s,” where actors, musicians and comedians reflect on the greatness of decades past.
And I’m just as big of a fan of those shows as I was to hear Hogan’s music hit and watch him tear into The Rock.
So, what is it about nostalgia that makes us yearn for yesterday?
According to Webster, nostalgia is “A sentimental yearning to return to an earlier time remembered as happier or more pleasant, or a former place evoking happy memories; a longing to experience again a former happy time.”
But you know what, they never teach nostalgia in a history class -- because nostalgia is an imitation or maybe better yet, a limitation of the truth.
We simply block out the bad and relieve only the good times in our mind.
Will Rogers said, “Things ain't what they used to be and probably never was.”
Historian Owens Pomeroy said, “Nostalgia is like a grammar lesson: you find the present tense, but the past perfect.”
I imagine most psychologists would tell us that nostalgia is good.
“We should spend time reflecting on the past,” they would tell us.
And I think it’s great to sit around and remember the past.
I always have a blast sitting around with my friends lying about how great I was in high school and college and how much better things were when we grew up.
But there’s also danger in enjoying nostalgia too much.
Sometimes we get so caught up in the past that we forget to look at the present and we forget to look to the future.
We want to return to the “good ole’ days.”
But if we really take time to look, we’ll see that the “good ole’ days” weren’t as great as we thought they were.
That’s why God tells us through the prophet Isaiah, “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!”
There is something bigger and better going on right now. Today – Aug. 12, 2004. This is the best day ever – if you make it that way.
And change is a-comin,’ whether you or I like it.
I believe that if we stop and focus on the past for too long, we’ll end up loosing our grip on reality and the present.
While “I love the 90’s,” 80’s and 70’s highlights the great moments of each decade, there are also a number of fads and toys and music that no one wants to return to.
And there are also a number of issues that those shows would never touch on, because if they did, those decades would loose their nostalgia.
Does anyone really want to go back and relive the atrocities of the past?
The hostage situations?
The famine and AIDS outbreaks?
Does anyone want to go back and relieve the Challenger explosion?
Chernobyl, the Iran Contra Affair or New Coke?
Even talking with my grandparents as often as they reminisce about growing up, I don’t think they would want to return to the depression (there is a reason they called it the depression).
I don’t think anyone wants to return to World War I or II, the Korean War, the Vietnam war or Gulf Storm.
As nostalgia goes, I’m sure in 2044 I’ll all be sitting around talking about how great 2004 was and how great the 2000’s were.
I’ll pull out my PDA and laptops and show my grandkids how technologically advanced we thought we were.
I’ll talk about how great the Play Station 2 and X-Box was and how amazing the first High Definition TV’s were and they’ll look at me like an idiot.
Then they’ll go to history class and learn about terrorism and 9/11 and the fall of the stock market and think I’m nuts for wanting to go back to the “good ole’ days.”
And I’ll just smile and reminisce and wish things were the way they used to be, when kids respected their elders and you could buy a burger, fries and a coke for under $7.
“If you're yearning for the good old days, just turn off the air conditioning.” -- Griff Niblack

Honest Worship

Sunday morning I got punk'd by several of my friends.
No, I don't quite mean Punk'd like MTV's hit prank television series, but it might have felt just as bad.
As I entered the sanctuary I headed towards the back where my friends typically like to sit.
For whatever reason they had not made it into the sanctuary yet and so I chose an empty row a few rows from the very back.
After 10 minutes or so, I heard my friends laughing and talking as they walked in, only to be surprised that they sat down in the row behind me.
"That's odd." I thought to myself, pretending I didn't notice them.
Shortly thereafter they realized their mistake and began to laugh at the situation without really acknowledging I was even in the room.
Finally after my pastor came by, shook our hands and questioned our strange seating arrangement did we really acknowledge what had taken place.
Yet oddly enough, my friends chose to leave me on the pew, directly in front of them, all alone.
And despite my tough macho front, it stung abit.
No one likes to be left alone and no one likes to be left out.
The situation made me feel worse for a young boy I saw at lunch later who was forced to sit at a table all alone because he was the odd man out in his group of friends.
But despite the temporary humiliation of being punk'd by my friends and the minor sting of sitting alone during the morning service, I had a moment of epiphany during the worship.
As we sang the final song, the words of the song hit me like a lightening bolt.
We sang about Jesus being our everything, and it hit me -- "That's not true -- is it?"
Only 15 minutes earlier I had felt alone and neglected because a few friends decided not to sit by me.
That doesn't sound like someone who believes Jesus is my everything.
That doesn't sound like someone who believes Jesus is even 50-percent of everything.
It sounds more like someone who finds completeness and happiness in the approval of others.
Needless to say, I had to stop singing.
How could I honestly sing words I had trouble living?
I have a feeling that God felt a sting about as bad as I did Sunday morning.
The Prophet Isaiah wrote, "The Master said: 'These people make a big show of saying the right thing, but their hearts aren’t in it. Because they act like they’re worshiping me but don’t mean it.'"
The Prophet Samuel told King Saul, "Do you think all God wants are sacrifices-- empty rituals just for show? He wants you to listen to him! Plain listening is the thing not staging a lavish religious production."
I believe we've become too concerned about looking good and finding approval from sinful man, rather than worshiping in "spirit and in truth."
What if I was to buy my mom a dozen roses?
What if I went out and made sure these were the best roses around? They were the right color, the perfect freshness -- everything was right.
And after I bring them home she gets excited and puts them in a vase on the table and says, "This means so much."
And what if I said to her, "Well I'm your son, its my duty," or "Well they were on sale. I wasn't really thinking of you, but they were cheap and it wasn't a hassle."
The flowers loose all their meaning. Does my mom even want the flowers anymore?
Probably not. If it's not from the heart, my mom could really care less.
One of the central prayers of the Jewish faith is this: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength."
I can sing all day long about how Jesus is everything to me, but if it's not from the heart, where is the meaning or truth behind it?
I remember when U2 released their album "Pop" in the late 90's and people every where accused the band of leaving their Christian roots and faith behind.
People said they had lost their religion and were now caught up in the sins of the world.
Critics pointed to "Wake up Dead Man" as the prime example.
In the song Bono sings, "Jesus, Jesus help me. I'm alone in this world and a (messed) up world it is too. Tell me, tell me the story, the one about eternity and the way it's all gonna be...
"Jesus, I'm waiting here boss. I know you're looking out for us, but maybe your hands aren't free. You're Father, He made the world in seven, He's in charge of heaven. Could you put a word in for me? Wake up -- wake up dead man. Wake up -- wake up dead man."
How could a Christian sing those words? Wasn't Jesus alive and well?
Any Christian should know that Jesus isn't dead. Why would they write and sing such herasy?
Yet the more I study and the more I hear the song, I personally believe God was more pleased with that song than the empty words I started singing Sunday morning.
The song reminds me a lot of the first chapter of Habakkuk.
"How long, O LORD , must I call for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you, 'Violence!' but you do not save? Why do you make me look at injustice? Why do you tolerate wrong? Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and conflict abounds. Therefore the law is paralyzed, and justice never prevails. The wicked hem in the righteous, so that justice is perverted."
You would imagine that God might have come down and smitten Habakkuk for his questioning.
Yet God saw his heart and his honesty and reminded him to look outside his own world and see that God was at work in other places as well.
God didn't judge Habakkuk for his honest questioning, but we do see throughout scripture that God does judge those who bring empty praises and rituals to the table.
God takes no pleasure in our sacrifices if our hearts are not involved. They are a burden to him.
They're like the dozen roses. Meaninglesss.
Finally, it's interesting to note, that after questioning God and even hearing that God would bring destruction to Israel, Habakkuk sang praises from his heart.
"God, I’ve heard what our ancestors say about you, and I’m stopped in my tracks, down on my knees. Do among us what you did among them. Work among us as you worked among them. And as you bring judgment, as you surely must, remember mercy... Though the cherry trees don’t blossom and the strawberries don’t ripen, though the apples are worm-eaten and the wheat fields stunted, though the sheep pens are sheepless and the cattle barns empty, I’m singing joyful praise to God. I’m turning cartwheels of joy to my Savior God. Counting on God’s rule to prevail, I take heart and gain strength. I run like a deer. I feel like I’m king of the mountain!"
And similarly, the next song U2 released was "Beautiful Day."
"The heart is a bloom that shoots up through the stoney ground. There's no room, no space to rent in this town. You're out of luck and there's no reason that you had to care. You thought you found a friend to take you out of this place, someone you can lend a hand in return for grace. It's a beautiful day. The sky falls but you feel like a beautiful day."
May the words and praises of our mouth be true overflow of our heart.

Lessons from a Parking Lot

Monday night I headed to San Antonio with my good friend Chris Allman and Beau Heitmiller for WWE’s Monday Night Raw at the SBC Center.
And say what you want about wrestling, because we don’t care. We had a great time watching some of our wrestling favorites battle it out for glory and fame.
(On a side note for the Heitmillers, in case you were unaware – don’t ever give Beau caffeine after 10 p.m. He went nuts on the way home. And if he kept you awake after he made it home, don’t blame me – Chris bought the soda for him.)
Anyways, after the show we headed to the car to begin our trip home and Chris made a great observation, “Isn’t it funny how traffic brings out who you really are?”
You really show how greedy, selfish or generous you are on your way out of a traffic or parking lot jam.
We laughed as we watched people squeeze and push their way into the front of the line.
It reminded me of numerous times I’ve sat in parking lots watching people jockey for the front of the line almost as aggressive as the wrestlers we had watched earlier in the evening.
Of course my favorite cars to watch are those leaving Christian conferences and events.
You sometimes have to wonder if they attended the same event as you did.
I remember waiting almost four hours to get out of a parking lot at Southfork Ranch one year.
It was a ridiculous wait, but what I thought was more ridiculous is how rude some people would be just to get a few cars in front of others.
It’s just another reminder than no one -- including Christians -- are perfect.
I’ve been studying the Apostle Peter lately and I’ve enjoyed comparing him to myself.
When Peter was first introduced to Jesus by his brother Andrew, Jesus told him, “You are Simon son of John. You will be called Cephas.” Which when translated is Peter, or The Rock.
I wonder what Jesus was thinking when He named Peter The Rock.
As you follow Peter through the Gospels, you see that he was anything but a rock.
He was impulsive, he was unreliable and he even denied knowing Christ three times in the temple courtyard.
Sounds like me and maybe some of those other drivers scrambling for position.
Impulsive, unreliable and its so easy to deny Christ if the storms begin to come.
But Peter’s life shows a remarkable transformation.
From the impulsive disciple comes one of great leaders of the early church.
Christ told Peter, “I tell you that you are Peter and on this rock I will build my church and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.”
After his denial of Christ (John 18:15-18 and 25-27), he became the bold leader on the day of Pentecost, testifying to the miraculous things the people had borne witness to, leading to over 3,000 conversions that day (Acts 2).
Peter also became the bold man before the Sanhedrin which was ready to condemn him and John for their witness and testimony (Acts 4:1-22).
“Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved,” Peter said.
When the Sanhedrin saw the courage of Peter and John and realized they were unschooled, ordinary men, they were astonished and took note that these men had been with Jesus.
What a change.
What a rock.
What an example.
So while I can laugh and become bothered by those aggressive, impulsive drivers in the parking lot I need to realize that like Peter too, I’ve been in just as impulsive and selfish.
I’ve wanted to get home just as badly as they have and I’m know I’ve butted my way into a line -- or two -- or three times.
And I might never be called The Rock, but I need Christ’s transforming power in my life just as badly as Peter did – and just as badly as the drivers in that parking lot do – and just as badly as you do.
Oh -- and before I close, big props to the guy in the white car who let us cut in line Monday night.

Quit Gritting Your Teeth

People that know me know I’m not a morning person.
In no way, shape or form do I love getting up early.
Once I hit my bed, I’m in it for the long haul.
But there does come the occasional time when, for whatever reason, I wake up well before my alarm.
Tuesday morning was one of those mornings.
It’s super easy for me to shrug these early mornings off and roll back over, but I’ve come to learn that there’s usually a meaning behind my waking up early.
So as I sat in my room I was drawn to my copy of The Message and Colossians.
It’s been a while since I’ve woken up early to read, so waking up as early as I did, I knew I better find out what for.
Typically I find myself doing my reading at night, but lately even that’s been sparse.
As I read Colossians chapter 1 I enjoyed chewing on all the meat of it.
But I focused in on verses 10 through 12.
“We pray that you'll live well for the Master, making him proud of you as you work hard in His orchard. As you learn more and more how God works, you will learn how to do your work. We pray that you'll have the strength to stick it out over the long haul--not the grim strength of gritting your teeth but the glory-strength God gives. It is strength that endures the unendurable and spills over into joy, thanking the Father who makes us strong enough to take part in everything bright and beautiful that He has for us (MSG).”
What a passage.
Did you catch all of that?
I can’t even begin to touch on everything that passage says.
I may be the only one who needed to read that Tuesday morning, but I think we all have times in life where we just get frustrated and want to give up.
We’ve gritted our teeth, we’ve dug in, we’ve trudged ahead, but we’re still not getting anywhere.
Other options are trying to grab our attention and pull us from our task and we’re ready to just throw in the white flag.
Maybe we’re just stuck three feet in the mire and can’t see any way out, but there is a way out.
Now everyone will tell you to grit your teeth and pull through, but I believe that Paul is telling us something else.
He’s saying to stick it out, but us gritting our teeth won’t work.
Gritting your teeth is grim work, because your teeth will wear out. And you’ll loose the strength to carry on.
But we still have to stick it out over the long haul.
Yet as Paul points out, it’s not our strength that will get us through our troubles -- it’s the “glory-strength God gives.”
It’s the strength that Ann Tubbs has found in her sewing ministry.
It’s the strength that Steve Burke has found for his ministry in Guatemala.
It’s the strength that Dan Ramsey had as he faced his last days here on earth.
It’s the strength you can find in cancer wards around the country.
It’s the strength Mother Theresa had to carry on caring for complete strangers up until her death.
It’s not any super power that these people were born with. It’s something outside of them.
It’s the “glory-strength God gives.”
And the more we learn about how God works, the better prepared we’ll be for doing our work.
Each of these people knows how God works.
They know there is something beyond them that gives them the power to push on.
We just have to come to understand the power source and understand how to plug in.
My cousin was married Saturday and joins a long list of my friends and family members that made a commitment to another person this summer -- for the rest of their life.
I know her and her husband will face trials. They’ll face difficulties.
They may even wake up one morning wondering, “What if I hadn’t married this person? What if I remained single? What if I married Joe or Bob?”
But they’ve made a commitment for life.
And they both know they can’t stick it out for the long haul without the “glory-strength God gives.”
My dad’s mom told me on one of my last visits with her, “No matter what happens when you get married, you have to grit your teeth, push on and always remember the commitment you made to your wife -- ‘till death do us part.’ And you can’t do it alone. Your teeth will eventually wear out and you’ll have to depend on a source much greater than you to get you through the rough and tough times.”
“It is strength that endures the unendurable and spills over into joy, thanking the Father who makes us strong enough to take part in everything bright and beautiful that He has for us.”
Life wears down on us, but it is God who gives us the power to take part in every wonderful, beautiful and amazing thing He has planned for us.
So don’t quit. Don’t give up and quit wearing your teeth out.
Give your problems up to someone much greater than you and let Him carry your burden so you can push on and see your task through to completion.

A Hymn or Praise

When I was first beginning college in 1997, the modern praise and worship movement in the church was really beginning to first take off.
As a part of my church staff and a leader for the college group, I was part of a team that organized the Sunday evening worship services for the college and youth.
One of the key components we focused on each week was the message of the songs.
We weren’t concerned about they style or age of the song but rather the message.
I personally feel and I believe a large majority of my generation does as well, that if a song does lift up the name of Christ, then it is not we’ve lost the meaning of worship.
I don’t prefer a hymn or praise song because of its style or melody or the instruments used to play them (or lack there of), I prefer it because of its message.
You can’t deny the power of “How Great Though Art,” or its modern counterpart, “Shout to the Lord.”
If I come to church and sing about how hungry or thirsty I am I simply leave feeling hungry and thirsty. But if I come to church and sing about how wonderful, amazing and awe-inspiring our creator is, then I walk out of church ready to take on the world because I know He is there with me and I want more of Him.
I believe that many in my generation are seeing this more and more and I think our churches are missing the point.
Church services are geared and designed to attract the twentysomething crowd, yet they are putting the show before the substance.
We’re tired of the church as a whole offering up lyrically-empty songs and sermons that have no scriptural-meat to them, simply to cater to our generation and make people feel good about themselves.
A quick search through www.relevantmagazine.com, which caters to the twentysomething crowd shows that we want “that old-time religion” that has meat and substance behind it and don’t need the fancy show that many churches put on.
We want to know how to live our faith out in real and relevant ways.
We love the hymns and we love the praise songs and we love the church as long as it’s real and not simply going through the motions.
Several people in my Sunday school class have come to me expressing their frustration with people in the church, including themselves, simply being fake.
The following is excerpts from a Relevant article, “What makes the church relevant?” by Karen Huber.
“As I sat in the pew Sunday, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Well, maybe that was because there was so much going on visually. A power-point board scrolled the lyrics of the chorus. On the stage stood (well, actually swayed) a worship band which consisted of approximately 10 middle-aged men and women: one with a tambourine, another who whipped out a jazzy guitar solo, and the minister who sat at his piano with a boy-band microphone head-set urging us to get funky with the Spirit. Without ever opening a Bible, the service culminated in a sermon that pinpointed three simple rhyming biblical principles. On the most revered day of the week, I experienced the phenomenon commonly known as a “contemporary worship service” and I was embarrassed. The worst part was this was all done for my benefit – the typical twentysomething. Apparently, this was what my generation wanted.
“But this isn’t even about Generation X. Rather, it’s the need to make Jesus Christ, the Gospel and the Church relevant in today’s postmodern culture. But relevant for who?”
As we look at the future of the church, I pray that no matter what the style, whether its a hymn or contemporary -- praise band or acapella -- the message must always be put before the melody.
I pray that we will always put the substance before the delivery.
I pray that it will all bring us closer to Christ as we draw closer to each other and bring new people in. May we seek His face and may our face shine with His glory.
May people see us each Sunday and throughout the week and say as they did with Peter and John, “These men have been with Jesus.”

Keeping Your Word

I hope everyone enjoyed a wonderful 4th of July weekend.
And for those of you who had Monday off as well – I hate you.
Just kidding. No, seriously – I’m just kidding. Please don’t stop reading yet.
I enjoyed a great time on Saturday with a BBQ cooked for 15 people and eaten by only five.
I used to be really good at hosting and preparing parties and BBQ’s when I was in college.
But for some reason over the last year or so my planning has been a bit off.
I think I’ve discovered a problem that seems to be taking place in my generation and those that are following behind us – a reservation doesn’t mean what it used to.
And more importantly our word is no longer our bond.
Maybe I’m one of the few people of my generation who believe you should stay true to your commitments and true to your promises.
Maybe I’m one of the few people left who actually believe that if a person says they’ll show up or do something for me, they’ll actually do it.
Is it my trusting nature or just my ignorance?
I would love to put the blame on my parents’ generation -- a generation who began a downward spiral in neglecting their commitments made at the wedding altar.
I would love to say we’re not responsible for our “me first” attitude.
But I think we’re all responsible for our own actions – no matter what your shrink might tell you.
On a brief side note, I’m still waiting to see someone come on Jerry Springer and tell the world, “I’m a screw up. My parents were great, my grandparents were great, my school was great, my life was great – I just messed it all up. I’m the only one to blame.”
Quit blaming everyone else for your mistakes.
Ok, sorry about that tangent. Back to the topic at hand.
We as a generation must start taking responsibility for our actions.
We must realize that sometimes saying “No” is better than saying “Yes” and then neglecting to fulfill our promise.
If you tell your boss you’ll get a task done, get it done.
If you tell you friend you’ll call, return the call.
If you tell your girlfriend or your wife you love her, mean it.
It seems so simple, yet for so many, including myself, it has become so hard to do, yet sticking by your word goes a long way.

Far better not to vow in the first place than to vow and not pay up. – Eccl. 5:5

The Right is Dumb

Over the last few months I’ve come to believe something – the right is dumb.
Now before you start sending me hate mail, let me explain.
This isn’t a personal belief of mine; I believe it’s a belief of the misguided, far-left.
One of my favorite lines from the movie Spaceballs, and I think is rather fitting here is, “So, Lone Star, now you see that evil will always triumph because good is dumb.”
Maybe it’s because they don’t have any real comebacks, or maybe it’s a genuine belief that if you’re part of the right wing conspiracy, you’re just a dumb, ignorant American.
You haven’t experienced the world like they have.
Since I began writing my column last year, I’ve received several letters accusing me of being completely wrong in my religious and political beliefs.
Now while I don’t mind you disagreeing with me, I have to laugh and completely ignore any point you might be making when you resort to saying I’m just a poor uneducated soul.
Am I uneducated just because I have a belief system different than yours?
Am I uneducated because I grew up in the church, or because I grew up in public schools, or because I attended a Baptist university?
What is it that makes me uneducated?
When I was a kid, there were a few comebacks that were the end-all-to-end-all.
When the argument got to these points, you knew it was about time to throw down -- mainly because both sides had run out of any logical arguments.
“Well you fight like a girl.”
“Yeah, well you’re stupid.”
Those are fighting words when you’re a kid.
Now I just laugh.
Texas Monthly’s headline article this month is entitled, “Texas vs. the world! Yes, they hate us. Should we care?”
If you haven’t seen it – go pick up a copy or visit texasmonthly.com.
In the article, author Mimi Swartz points out that the same conservative, qualities that the world loved in J.R. Ewing (and still do) are the same qualities they loath in the leader of the today’s conservative right, President George W. Bush.
This past spring a television series entitled “The Texas Season” was broadcast in Great Britain on BBC Competitor, Channel 4.
While the show largely made fun of Texans, it also made fun of the values many Texans hold true to their heart.
An episode entitled, “Texas Teenage Virgins” mocked a group of Lubbock teens trying to adhere to Bush’s faith-based abstinence program.
“Having demonstrated that Texans were ugly, sexually repressed and bigoted, all that remained for the producers was violent. ‘The Texas Solution’ explored crime and punishment during Bush’s gubernatorial years,” wrote Swartz.
The narrator said Texans were big on forgiveness but low on mercy as they examined the death penalty and punishment in Texas.
Now as I read this article and thought about how Texas and many members of the political-right are looked upon as uneducated or too conservative -- it hit me -- I’ve done the same thing.
When my viewpoint on an issues tends to agree with the left (yes – it does happen sometimes) I’m quick to accuse those disagreeing with my viewpoint as being uneducated or living in a bubble their entire life.
“They don’t know what the real world is like,” I say. “They’ll wake up one day and realize that the world isn’t as perfect or as easy as they think it is.”
It’s easy to call someone names or make fun of their upbringing or belief system.
It’s easy to say someone is ignorant without offering a better suggestion of your own. The hard part is to sit down and discuss the issues face to face.
Someone once said, “Democracy is simply keeping the conversation going.”
But I guess we all stoop to the lowest common denominator when we run out of arguments.