Thanks”Living”

Thanksgiving: it’s at our back door already. Next week, we’ll throw the best we’ve got into the oven, stuff ourselves silly, and trade the jeans in for sweatpants after waking up from a turkey coma. I admit, I’ve always been in defense of this holiday because I feel like it gets overshadowed so often by the materialistic anticipation of Christmas and Black Friday shopping. This year, Thanksgiving gets the front burner for me, as I’ve taken on the opportunity to plan a Praise Service for our church this coming Sunday night. It’s been on my heart to do this for months now, and honestly, I feel a little unprepared still, but I can’t wait for this night. To think that we’ll be coming to church that night with needs just like everyone else, but we put those needs aside for a little while to thank the Source of all we’ve been blessed with; it’s an overwhelming thought for me.

In preparation for this event, I began praying a couple weeks ago that God would create in me a heart of true gratitude for all of my blessings, big or small. Funny thing is, Satan doesn’t want that to happen. How do I know this? Because the day after I prayed that God would give me a heart of gratitude in everything, I started to have terrible tooth pain. Then I found my Jeep leaking transmission fluid. Does that sound familiar to you? You make an honest effort in your spiritual walk, and the enemy meets you on the front lines, and delivers a cheap shot. Well, God isn’t one to be outdone. I had been having a terrible day, and I picked up a book late one night that I’ve been reading from Max Lucado called Before Amen. I highly recommend it, by the way. Wouldn’t you know that the chapter I began to read was simply called, “Thank You”. He wrote this book as a guide to a healthy prayer life, and he mentioned that the words “thank you” or the subject of gratitude is talked about over 100 times in God’s Word. Max said his wife challenged him to take each letter of the alphabet, and say one thing that he was thankful for with each letter. I sobbed my way through that chapter that night because of the thought put behind it. It’s a little bit of work to come up with some of those answers, but it makes you think. I love that. I challenged our choir members, in preparation for this upcoming Praise Service to do the same thing Max Lucado did. And what kind of leader would I be if I didn’t lead by example?

So here goes- my list of thanks from A to Z:

Ashley- my best friend , the mother of my gorgeous children, my beautiful wife.

Bella and Bennett- my two precious kids. You make Daddy’s heart soar, and his blood pressure skyrocket from time to time.

Chips – they’re not healthy, and I just had a handful of them.

Daniel Beard- one of my best friends from college, and the first person to ever make me almost throw up from laughing too hard.

Ears- I have two of them, and only one mouth. I need to remember that.

Friendship- God places people in your life at a specific time, for a specific reason.

Grace-freely given; much needed.

Heaven- I have hope for tomorrow.

Independence- I live in a free country. Not everyone has that privilege.

Joy- It’s different from happiness. I can still have it on the worst of days.

Keys- to a home, car, outdoor building..I’m well cared for by my Savior.

Love- the language that God uses.

Mom- she raised me on her own, and she’s the biggest prayer warrior I know. My knowledge of how to make the world’s greatest grilled cheese is straight from her.

Notes- they make up scales, chords, melody, harmony. It’s music to my ears.

Onion Rings-  a guilty pleasure of mine.

Prayer- I get to talk to God. And He talks back through His Word.

Quiet- it usually doesn’t happen before 10pm, but I love when it happens.

Running Cars- God wasn’t obligated to bless us with vehicles.

Salvation- my debt is paid.

Truth- I can know the heart of God.

Uniform- I put scrubs on each morning because I’ve been blessd with a job.

Victory- If we’re in Christ, we win.

Watching- I have eyes to see.

X-rays: thankful that I’ve had to have very few of these.

Youth- I’m no spring chicken, but I can still get around pretty well.

Zeal- I want to grow closer to Christ than ever before.

I don’t want to just “give” thanks this year. I want to LIVE thanks!  I challenge you to do the same!

How Blessed…

Pack your bags, because we’re about to embark on a guilt trip of epic proportions.

Sometimes, I find ways to complain. The money just isn’t there. The Jeep broke down. Uncertainty about the future. Feeling like a failure when it doesn’t work out. Been there lately? Yep, me too. But God stopped me in my tracks yesterday.

I was at home, alone. My wife had went to pick up the kids, and I was picking up around the house some before getting ready for an appointment. In my mind, there was a major fit going on. I was complaining about all that was going wrong, and all that needed to be done to make it all right.

And then I walked by my son’s room. I saw his toys, and his little socks in the floor. I walked past and I saw my daughter’s room. Toys and stuffed animals, everywhere you look. I saw her little bed. I looked at the letters on the wall that spell her name. That used to be my room when I was a kid. I stopped and thought about my past, and it was like God used the silence of that moment, and spoke to my heart, and said, “Are you thankful for what you DO have?”. I got a lump in my throat as I thought back to how blessed I was to have a beautiful little girl that loved her Daddy. I had to backtrack to my son’s room, and thank God for him being in our life. He smiles at the worst times in the middle of the night, and I can’t stay mad that I’m awake at 4am with him.  I walked through the living room and saw a couch that we had been given for free. I walked into the kitchen and saw cabinets of food, I saw a table where my family sits each night to eat dinner. I walked to my bedroom, hot tears streaming down my face. I forgot how blessed I was. I’ve watched as some of our own friends have walked through valleys with their children that I couldn’t dream of walking through, yet I have two perfectly healthy children that are in my home, and I’m complaining about money.

I had to ask for forgiveness yesterday, and I had to stop and count my blessings a little bit. My question is, have you done the same thing? Have circumstances clouded your view of how blessed you really are? I’m not gonna lie, I was humbled down in the worst way yesterday when I realized how foolish and ungrateful I had been. It didn’t solve my other problems, but it made me realize there are problems that I don’t have right now, that but for the grace of God, I could have. None of us are exempt from tragedy. I have friends who were right in the path of the storms in the Midwest this weekend. Some of their friends lost everything, but we have what we need, and still complain.

As we approach Thanksgiving, think about what you DO have, know that in God’s perfect will, and His sovereign timing, He works things out for your good, and provides for our needs each day. Be thankful. Today, I choose to be thankful for these three faces.

Always Enough

Ever had an instance in your life where you looked at the situation as a whole, and realized that nobody but God could do anything with it?

 

I invite you to read I Kings 17: 7-16. It’s the story of the widow at Zarephath. There’s a famine in the land, and she’s running out of food.  As matter of fact, on this particular day, she’s down to literally the last little bit that she has. She can’t go buy anything, because nothing’s growing. Being she was a widow, money would have been hard to come by any way.  God tells Elijah to go by her house and ask for water, then for a cake of bread to eat. She explains their situation to him: she only has enough for her and her son. They’re going to enjoy a last meal together, and then die together of starvation. God instructs Elijah to tell her to prepare bread for him first, and then prepare some for herself and her son. She obeys, probably a little reluctantly, and makes a cake for Elijah. God tells him that because of her obedience, she’ll always have flour and oil in her barrel until He brings rain back to the land. That’s a shortened version of it, but take some time to read it for yourself.

I love this story. I always have. But this morning something jumped out at me that had me in tears. Let me pose a question: Why didn’t God just fill the barrel up? It’s not like He couldn’t do it. He did it when he fed the 5,000. They had 12 baskets left over. He did for the disciples when they went fishing. Their net broke because of all the fish in it. So why, for this dying widow and her starving son, could he not have poured out a miraculous amount of food just for her? Seems a little confusing, doesn’t it? Instead, He tells Elijah that there will be just enough in there each time for a meal until He brings rain back. I wondered about this. Why just enough? Maybe it was to put her in a situation where her faith would grow. Maybe it was to put her in a situation where there was no denying Who was providing. I can’t answer that question. What I can tell you, though, is that they never went hungry. God never promised that the barrel would overflow, but that He would provide what she needed exactly when she needed it. Because she was obedient, and faithful, she saw God work in a mighty way.

Been there before? Me too. I jumped head first into full time ministry in January.  I took a part time job to supplement my income, lost that job in August, and questioned everything God had called me to do. It wasn’t working out like I had planned. I had a family to provide for. I had needs that had to be met. Ever since joining Promise in January, I haven’t missed a meal, and I never missed a bill payment. I’m not wealthy by any stretch, but…there’s always enough. Somehow, God comes through again and again. Maybe God allowed it to happen this way so that I would have no other option than to say that God did it.  I look at the foreseeable future, and there’s questions that I can’t answer. It can stress me out, I can worry, and I can fear the unknown. Or, I can go back to the barrel, and find what I need for today. I can get up tomorrow and do the same thing, because God is faithful. Are you worried about Obamacare? Worried about the government shut down? Still looking for that job? Be faithful where you’re at, and go back to the barrel. God sustains us. He loves us too much to let us down.

A Meal With God

I turned the channel just in time tonight to see exactly what I needed to see. I had been catching up on a show that I had been missing since being out on the road, and I realized what time it was, so I turned over to the History Channel to the new mini-series, “The Bible”. I, like most of you, have thoroughly enjoyed this series, with the stellar acting, scenery, and great themes along the way. Say what you will about what’s been left out, or other inaccuracies throughout the series, but it’s undeniable the effect it’s had on viewers. The ratings have been through the roof for it, and the gospel has been pumped into millions of homes. To Mark Burnett, the producer, I thank you.

The scene that was unraveling as I turned the channel to it was of Judas meeting with the priest. He is persuading Judas to betray Jesus. I watched intently. We all know the story. He gets paid to point out where Jesus is so He can be taken to trial by night. The scene that stopped me in my tracks tonight was of The Last Supper. Can you imagine what that would have been like? To be in Jesus’ inner circle of friends during the most critical time of His earthly life? A holy, perfect God in flesh takes water, and washed the dirty, crusty, probably  blistered feet of each disciple- a task for the lowest of the low. Those feet have traveled many a mile following the Master, and they were worn, probably sore, and in need of cleaning. Oh, the picture it paints for us as He takes bread and explains what will happen to Him in the coming hours. He tells them to eat; this is His body given for them. They don’t understand all the ramifications. He pours the wine- a symbol of His blood, shed so violently for them. For us. For me.

What’s it like to share a meal with Jesus? What’s it like to spend some time with the Savior? It’s life changing. Ask Zacheus. Ask Lazarus. Ask Jairus’ daughter. Ask the thief, found guilty, hanging beside the Lord. He had a few miserable, excruciatingly painful hours hanging beside an innocent man. He believed, and Jesus said, “Today, thou shalt be with me in paradise.” How’s that for dying grace? To hear the One who alters the course of history, hanging beside you, sharing in the same agony you partake of, tell you that that very day, you’ll be in paradise. Not what you deserve at all. Your life is forever changed because of what you believed, and what He said to you. I sit in awe tonight at the Word of God. It’s powerful beyond what I can describe here. And the greatest thing about it all? It was all for me. For you. For the world.

 This whole thing..this week, this Bible we talk about, this coming Sunday…it’s for you. It’s for me. You see, God had a law. We broke it. We break it every day. We break it without even realizing it sometimes. God, as holy as He is, can’t look upon sin. He can’t stand it. It’s a stench in His nose. It’s garbage. Because of that sin, we’re hopeless. We’re helpless. We have one way to pay for our sin: death. There is, and will always be a price for sin. The price will always be death. We were doomed. God didn’t create us to sin. We chose to sin. He created us for fellowship with Him. When we broke that fellowship, we placed a gap between us and God, and it’s been there forever. There was only one way for the gap to be filled: by something perfect, something sinless to pay the penalty of death for us, in our place. God sent His Son, perfect, blameless, to be that something. He was sent to do what we could not do for ourselves. People say all the time, “why do I need a Savior?” Because He came to do what you couldn’t do. He came to give the hopeless a chance. Our sin separated us from God, created a gap. He is the bridge over that gap. Because of this week, we have hope. That’s why it’s a holy week. He took death for us. For me. For you. What you see on the cross, what you read that happened on the cross, that’s your penalty. You and I? We deserve to die and live without hope for eternity because of what we’ve done. But the cross changed all that. He died the death for us.

That’s what we remember this week. Wendesday night, we’ll observe the Lord’s Supper at our church, and I will be reminded of how holy He is, and how undeserving I am. We’ll think this week upon the trial, the beating, the scourging, the whip, the crown of thorns, the nails, the robe, the crowd crying “Crucify Him!” over and over. We’ll think upon the hours spent on a cross, where He bled every perfect drop so I could live. We’ll think about what He went through in the final moments as Earth literally shook with the power of the broken heart of the God of heaven. We’ll remember those final three words that sealed our destiny, and forever gave the world another chance: It is finished. We’ll remember as He breathes His last holy breath, and they take His lifeless body down from the cross and place it in Joseph’s tomb. We’ll listen as hell throws a victory party. Their greatest enemy is dead.

But Sunday’s coming.

 

The Hope of Christmas

Welp, it’s here. 3 days before Christmas and I’ve braved the odds and stopped by 2, not one but T-W-O different Wal-Marts today to get gifts. We’re finished though, and that’s a wonderful thing, especially for my wounded wallet.

It was the first few days in December when I noticed something on our tree. My wife likes to decorate in “themes”. Our Christmas tree this year has all red decorations. Some of my favorite, however, are simple ornaments with words on them. One says “faith”, another says “peace”. But the other night, I looked, and front and center on our tree at the other ornament that simply says, “hope”. The lights were strung all around it as if the word were on a movie marquee just made for me to see. It hit me then like a ton of brick, and it’s chipped at me every day since.

Christmas means a lot of things to a lot of people, but I can’t think of another word that describes it like “hope”. Think about it. All that the Israelites were taught was that somebody was coming one day. They had no idea of how, when, where, or who, but they believed with a great passion that someone was coming to be their Redeemer. Did their faith get weak? I’m sure. They were human. Did they battle doubt? Surely. Did people tell them to give up, that it couldn’t be true, that it was just a tale fathers told their sons? Possible. Year after year, they drudged on to the temple to make the sacrifice for their sins. A father whispered to his son, “It won’t be this way forever. The Messiah is coming.” What kept them believing? Hope. Hope, and a faith that God would keep His Word.

Can you imagine being alive in the time Christ was born? Maybe even being a resident of Bethlehem during that time? Talk about commotion. For many of those folks, hope became sight as they witnessed with their very own eyes the Word of God coming true. God had kept His Word.

What does that mean for us today? Look at the people around you. At work, at church, your neighbors, your friends…if they don’t know Christ, they all look for something to fill a void. They have problems…everybody has problems. Financial, marital, physical, mental. They turn to wherever offers a solution. I see people who have turned to a fad, a drink, a drug, a relationship, even a religion to solve their problems. I heard somebody just this week say, ” I can’t wait until the Christmas party tonight to get plastered and forget everything that happened this week”. I see parents trying to split time up with their children because they’re separated, and won’t be able to spend Christmas together as a family. I see my own friends who’ve buried loved ones this year and can’t bear the thoughts of sadness that the Christmas season brings. What does Bethlehem have to do with all this?

Hope. It brings hope to all. You see, Bethlehem is where the hope of Christmas and the Heart of Christmas meet. He is both the hope of Christmas and the heart of Christmas. For the fatherless, He is the Father. For the poor, He is both the Giver and the Gift. For the wealthy, He is true joy that money can’t buy. For the broken family, He is the love that never fails. For the widow and the widower, He is the Source of Comfort this time of year.

Amidst the hustle and bustle, if you make it out of Wal-Mart with all your limbs intact, first of all be thankful. But most importantly, consider the reason for Christmas: hope. Christ is born. Hope is alive. To borrow a line from Phil Cross, “Redemption’s blood has veins to flow in”. Don’t go through Christmas without remembering the hope we have, and give that hope to someone else this year.

Renewed Resiliance

I spent some time away with my family this week out of town. We were invited by my parents to go with them to the beach, and we had a wonderful time. One of my goals this week was to get alone to do some writing. That didn’t happen. There’s a little 1 year old girl that took up a lot of my time :).  Also, I blame a lot of my laziness this week on the Olympics. Why do anything productive when you can watch people who have worked hard for years do it on live TV?

This was the attitude I kept until the other night. Track and field was on, and there was a man from South Africa named Oscar Pistorius. Not your average Olympian. One would take a glance at him, and label him as “disabled”, or “unable”, even. One glance at him, and most would write him off as not adding up to much as far as modern society’s standard is concerned, much less being an athlete, and even more, being an Olympic athlete. I watched him line up to run in a race. He finished last. I listened to his post-race interview, and his goal? To make it to this stage to prove he was capable of competing with able bodied athletes. He finished last, but there was a cemented smile on his face that a crowbar couldn’t remove.

I think God hides inspiration in unexpected places for us to stumble upon sometimes. I watched that race, and forgot about the complaints I had for God that week. I’ll be honest, I was at a major low this week. I had no direction, no callbacks, no interview requests, no singing dates booked, no prospect of a job anytime soon. I felt worthless, I felt helpless, I felt like I literally had NOTHING to offer society in return for a paycheck to take care of my family. I put a smile on and tried to have fun, but inside I was eaten up with bitterness, and self-pity. But then that stupid race came on…and put a real smile on. I spent time with my little girl, I loved on her, she loved on me, and I picked my sorry self up off of the ground. I know there is a plan at work. I know God is for me, and not against me. He’s in my corner, but sometimes I drift away from my own corner that I’m supposed to be in, so it feels like a million miles away from where I’m supposed to be.

I don’t have a job yet. I have a calling. Music. Would I love for the two to combine one day? Of course I would. What can I rest in? The fact that God knows my situation. In fact, he physically has been in my own situation. In the book of Luke, Christ tells his disciples that He had no place to even sleep that night. God knows my situation, because He allowed it to happen. The only way He can permit it is if He is in control, and I believe with all my being that He is. This is not a mindset, it is a fact. So, while from time to time I find myself in a pool of self-pity, there’s a plan at work that will turn this test…into a testimony. Wait and see. Take a lesson from the Olympics and become resiliant in your faith, determined to show God’s work in your life, and dedicated to do what God has called you to. It’s not how you start. It’s not how you may even stumble some in the middle, like me. It’s how you finish. I want to give it all I’ve got.

The Wolf Who Cried “Trust”

 

So, I think I’ve turned into one of “those” parents.

Usually in the mornings, Ash and I let Bella watch some cartoons for a few minutes while we try to wake up and get breakfast ready, and get ready for the day. Much to my chagrin, the TV usually ends up on PBS. Bella loves this show called “Super Why”. It’s a show about a kid named Wyatt who solves mysteries and problems using reading and stories. Normally, it’s no big deal. UNTIL…today (well, Tuesday).

Let me set the scene for you: Wyatt has a little baby brother, of whom he is extremely proud of. He goes into his little brother’s room to say hello, Wyatt thinks he hears his brother say “Wyatt”. When nobody else believes what he says,and his feelings are hurt,  he refers to the story of “The Boy Who Cried Wolf”. We all know the story. But for reference’s sake, let’s rehash it. Little dude does gets a kick out of telling everybody there’s a wolf invading the flock. When the villagers come to the flock packing heat to take care of business, there’s no wolf. Little man’s pullin’ everybody’s leg. No wolf. He does this several times, with the same result. Cry “wolf”. Village people (not THOSE Village People) show up, comin’ in hot. No wolf. Village people mad. Over and over. Finally, a wolf actually does show up. Little man hauls tail crying wolf, and the people don’t believe him, so the wolf eats the sheep, the boy, the whole kitten kaboodle. Moral? Don’t lie.

Now, let me tell Super Why’s version:

Boy actually sees wolf each time. He goes and tells the people. The people come back to the wolf being conveniently gone just in time to miss them. So the people get mad at the boy and the boy is upset because he obviously isn’t trusted, and the wolf makes off with the spoils again.  Their moral? Let me quote it: Your parents should trust what you say.

Hmmm…confused? Yep, I was too. What was this teaching my daughter? That I should trust the logic of a 5 year old with a wild imagination who got his feelings hurt. That wasn’t what really grinded my gears. It was the taking of a story that was meant to teach a life lesson, and totally taking the lesson, and putting into a shredder we like to call “Political Correctness”. We wonder about what it happening to America, and I think I figured it out. Instead of Mom and Dad teaching what we want our kids to learn, we plop them down in front of something we don’t actually pay attention to, and they learn something we don’t want them too. Years down the road, we blame the middle school, the high school for infiltrating our child’s mind, when in actuality it the blame lies totally on us. I have four words for PBS. NOT.IN.MY.HOUSE. Although my daughter is only a year old, I and my wife both have spent way too much time, and lost too much sleep to let someone else do our teaching for us, especially when it comes to the lessons of right and wrong. I mean, come on PBS, even Wikipedia got the story right when I Googled it.

What did I do? I did what every self-respecting, strong, brawny man would do. I sent a very mean and unkind email. Just kidding. But I did send an email full of Bible verses and reasons to drop that episode. I hope my email goes viral and fries their motherboard. I realize I just tried to use a bunch of IT terms that probably didn’t make any sense, but you get it.

Mom and Dad, pay attention to what your kids watch, no matter what the age. Someone’s going to reach your kid. It’s either going to be You, or them. Who do you want it to be? Game on.

A New Song

I’ve been working on new music all week long. Some of it’s for a wedding on Saturday. Some of it is brand new music for upcoming concerts, beginning this Sunday, actually. When I start working on new music, for me, it’s hardly “working”. It’s like Christmas morning. I love listening over and over to embed the very slightest detail in my mind, so as not to miss it when I have the chance to communicate it to people. I love sitting down at the piano, and working out chords, and new runs to play in the song, to make it my own. If you’ve known me for any period of time, you know I love old songs, too. I love where they take me to in my memory. As I write this, I have a friend’s hymn CD playing right now on iTunes. It calms me, helps me focus, and is just complete ear candy. It’s phenomenal. But there’s just something about a fresh, new song. Right? Don’t you love to listen to your favorite artist, Christian or secular, debut a new tune that you haven’t heard before? It makes you want to sprint to the record table, or download it as quick as you get home. These songs I’m learning (I really should be working on them now) are going to challenge me vocally, and I step out onto a different limb that I haven’t quite been on before. But it helps me become more versatile. It’s something brand new.

The phrase a new song is used 9 times in the Bible. 6 times in the Psalms, once in Isaiah, and twice in Revelation. The ones in the Psalms were songs themselves, new ones, as a matter of fact, mostly from David. Can you imagine David’s heart as he penned and sang them? I’m sure often he was the only person who heard these songs until they were put in God’s Word. Can you feel the emotion, the worship as he sang these straight to God Himself? Wow. In Isaiah, it was also referred to in a worshipful tone. But in Revelation….wow. Revelation 5:9 tells us that they sang a new song, and they even put a few of the lyrics in:

“Thou are Worthy, to take the book, and to open the seals thereof; for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood out of every kindred, and tongue, and every nation”.

Whew. Heavy stuff. That’s a song they’ll sing in Heaven. Think about the first 3 words: “Thou. Art. Worthy.” I bet when we’ve seen all that heaven has to offer we’ll sing the same lyrics with much more conviction. Revelation 14 talks about the 144,000 singing a new song right in front of the throne of God. It doesn’t tell us the song because John wrote that only the 144,000 will know what that song is. Doesn’t that make you want to hear it all the more?

I don’t want to add anything to the Word of God, but I can’t help but believe we’ll have our chance to sing before the throne, too. Sure, we’ll probably sing the great songs of the faith. We’ll sing some of the worship songs that bring us closer to Him. We’ll have some “specials” probably :). But with all the talent that will be gathered around in Heaven, countless generations of writers, singers, musicians, and the untold number of those who can’t help but sing praise because their faith has finally been made sight, I have to believe there’s some room for some new songs in Heaven. Songs with lyrics that human lips can hardly bear to utter. I have a feeling it will be a song that will finally convey our hearts’ longing for Christ, as his bride, as His child, as His unworthy heir. We’ll sing it over, and over, and over, and over. Our voices will never tire, and the sound will echo as far as eternity is long. Why? Look at the Revelation 5 passage again. Because those first three lyrics will literally come alive as earthly eyes close, and heavenly ones open. “Thou. Art. Worthy…Thou art worthy…Thou art worthy…” some of us “emotional” people (hand raised) will have a hard time getting through without the tears coming. But it’s okay…He’ll wipe them away.

Something about a new song, right? It’s an anticipation of heavenly proportions. Get your voice warmed up. We’ve got singing to do.

The Nays Have It…Or Do They?

Ever have those times in your life where all you hear is “No, no, no, no, no”.  “No” this, and “no” that. It seems like doors slam shut in your face. I’m there. Like, right now as I type this. Had a great opportunity that went totally south on me today. It seems like sometimes I live in a world of letdowns and disappointments. I spent most of the day in bad mood, feeling sorry for myself.

I watched this movie recently, and there was a quote that stuck with me: the scene is a man talking to his wife, and they’re reminiscing on their honeymoon, and how it rained the entire time. She says, “What if our entire life is made up of rainy days?” His reply couldn’t have been more timely: ” Then I guess we’ll be doing a whole lot of growing.”

 

Checkmate. Although it seems, in certain departments of my life, that it’s a monsoon season, in my heart I know it’s causing me to grow in ways I never thought I could. God did me a favor closing the door on the opportunity I thought was a sure thing. He saved me from making a wrong decision. So today, when it seems like the “nays” have the majority, there’s a greater “yes” waiting in the wings. And I know from experience that God’s open doors are doors that are clearly marked OPEN. Funny thing about those closed doors….whenever one closes…well, I think you know the rest.

365 Days…A Million Smiles

When I was young, I thought of having a kid just like having a pet. Of course, when I was young, I had neither a kid nor a pet, so my hypothesis is pathetic at best. But now that I have both, yeah…it’s nothing alike.

One year ago tonight, Ash and I had been to church, and we were on our way home. Ashley, great with child, had wanted to stop and get a Frosty. So we did.( Note: if you’re pregnant, and you’re close to you’re due date, and want to get the baby out, just eat a chocolate Frosty from Wendy’s.) I remember this very vividly. We got home, watched two hours of America’s Funniest Home Videos, laughed our silly butts off, and went to bed.

You know the rest of the story…2AM, we woke up to a water break, and went to the hospital. 4:24PM, we welcomed our greatest joy, Bella, into the world. Tomorrow, she turns a YEAR OLD. My honest opinion? I hate it. I don’t want her to grow up. Everyday, I wake up to something crazy she’s doing. She’s turned my life upside down and back. I’d kill for her, I’d die for her. Not a day goes by where I don’t stop and think about how in the world I ended up with a little baby like this. There’s a blessing to being a Daddy, but here’s the thing I have to keep in mind: I’ve got a responsibility as well. I will answer to God for the way I’ve raised that little girl. She’s sitting sprawled out in my wife’s arms, and I can look over to see her sleeping. It’s my responsibility to make sure she knows that this life is more than what dress size she is; that there’s more to life than how many guys are after you. I’m responsible for making sure that she knows how a real man treats the woman he loves. Her actions will be a reflection of the job I’ve done raising her. She will be a reflection on my name. Though I can’t control her actions, I’m responsible for making sure she knows the right action to take. When it’s needed, I’ll be responsible for dealing with the wrong actions she takes ( I don’t look forward to that).

Tomorrow, we’ll carry her into our church gym, and there will be some close friends and family that will celebrate with us. They’ll give her gifts. She’ll freak over some of them, and others she’ll play with the box they came in. But I consider myself the lucky one, because I get to wake up to the birthday girl. Everyday. I get to see the half-asleep-eyes-still-matted smile that greets me in the mornings. She’s my girl. She’s Daddy’s heart and joy. She’s been dedicated to the work of the Lord one day. My prayer is that God will mold me into the Dad I need to be to not only instruct Bella in the way she should go, but to walk in the way she should go, so she’ll follow me. But for tomorrow, I get to celebrate another blessing that I’m unworthy of- the first of many of my little girl’s birthdays. I’m not gonna cry. Nope. Okay I might.