I ask God to handle it, and then act like it's on me

This is Jakob standing on the windowsill of our hotel room last week.  We were 11 stories up, partially overlooking the Ohio River.  Facing this way, we were overlooking the other side of the hotel and N 4th St in Louisville, KY.

Last week, Sarah and Jakob came with me to the Simply Youth Ministry Conference.  Quick promo before the point of the post: that was definitely the best conference I had ever attended.  I learned more than I ever have, and I just scratched the surface.  I didn't have time to learn everything.  But when I wasn't in classes or general sessions, I was trying to spend time with my family, which was just as important to me as the conference.  Having the conference within driving distance made it possible or them to go, and that was a real blessing to me.

The afternoon of the opening session, there were some crazy tornados north of us in Indiana.  I presume you've heard about that.  It was windy in Louisville, but according the weather channel, we didn't have any warnings.  So the three of us went for a walk to the bank and then down to Hard Rock Cafe.  We didn't want to eat there, because it's kind of expensive, so we just walked around.  After Jakob made it clear he didn't want to be in there - which became clear to him when he got to sit by a drum set without any drumsticks - we headed back outside.  I had a tense feeling about being on the street, though, so everyone that passed by got stared at by me.  I felt like my Spidey senses were tingling (*ht Bryan Keeley).  Danger was around us somewhere.

As we headed north on 4th Street, my danger senses were going crazy.  I looked up the road and saw a pick up truck with a lot of lumber in the back, parked next to the curb right before a stoplight.  I looked at Sarah and said, "We're going to walk fast, so we don't get stopped on that corner."  I grabbed her hand and pulled her faster than her normal speed limit.  We hustle to the corner and just catch the light just as it goes to a flashing "Do Not Walk," so we continued quickly to the other side.  Once we reached the other side of the road, we heard the wind pick up violently behind us.  I turned at the sound and saw boards go flying off the back of the truck and knock two large construction workers over with brut force.  A third took a dive to try to avoid the boards, but he was covered by them lying on the ground.  Had we not hurried and crossed the street, we would have been standing right there.  Sarah would have taken at least one 2x4 right in the face.  Jakob may have been trampled as we scrambled to get between him and the boards.  It would have definitely been a dangerous situation.

After seeing that, we went into the sandwich shop just in front of us and decided to stay in there a while.  I was shaken up.  I realized my inability to protect my family.  I kept going over what I saw and what could have happened, and as best as I could figure it, I probably could have pulled Sarah out of the way, but to do so, I would have torn up her knees.  It's more likely that I wouldn't have had time, and she would have been seriously injured in the face.  I felt weak.  I was shaken up.

Two hours later, I sat in general session listening to Francis Chan speak.  He spoke about the arrogance of being in ministry, and how pastors often feel like everything is on us.  We ask God to be involved in our ministries, but when we cannot be there personally, we think it's the end of the world.  Like God can't do great things through anybody, right?  He was speaking strictly about ministry, but I felt my heart stir.  I felt like God was saying, "See!  You ask me everyday to protect them, and I did!  Get over yourself!"  Heart punch.

I was reminded of a great lesson.  Real faith asks God and believes He will accomplish it.  It shows a real lack of faith to ask God to handle something in your life and then act like it can't happen unless you do it.  That's faith in you, not God.  I'd rather place my faith in Him, especially after I was reminded of my own vulnerability last week.

the judge spared me at court last week

I'm not a very patient person.  Well, I guess that depends on how you define "patient."  I have a lot more patience with children and teenagers than most of you.  If I didn't, I would be doing something else with my life.  But I have little patience for waiting.  This led to most of my early marital tussles, because I didn't handle waiting ver well, and Sarah didn't take too kindly to being rushed.  (FYI: I was really annoying about it.  That's not a reflection on her at all.)  I would always get upset whenever I would leave later than I knew I was supposed to, because I knew I'd arrive late.  My mom had this thing she'd always say to me, though, when I would talk about being frustrated for running late: "You don't know what God is sparing you from.  Maybe you would have been in an accident if you had left on time."  She meant it, too.  My mom attributed Sarah's tardiness to Divine intervention.  Women.  Always siding together.  But there's probably some truth to it.  I'm sure there have been times when I have been spared.  Like when we were moving to Florida, and we left 20 minutes later than I had planned.  I was annoyed.  My mom said her thing.  We get into Ohio, and sure enough, we missed a terrible accident involving semis and cars, and it shut down the whole highway.  The scene looked fairly fresh when we arrived.  Maybe we just missed it by about 20 minutes.

Last Wednesday, I had jury duty.  I wasn't overly excited.  I'm a busy guy.  I have many important things to procrastinate on while at my desk.  Having jury duty meant I had to be more efficient with my time if I was going to get everything done I needed to get done.  Who wants that?  So I arrive at 8:00 AM, per my instructions.  I'm one of the first few there, so I pick a nice comfy arm chair to relax in.  Two hours later, I was still in the exact same chair, and its luster had worn off.  I was trying to work, but it was difficult.  So I moved to a chair by a table in the break area.  I sat there another hour.  I worked some, I read some, and I listened to other people's conversations.  I knew something wasn't right.  I had never had jury duty before, but I knew I wasn't there to sit around for the entire morning.  I was told to go back to the main room, because an on-duty jury needed the break room.  So I moved again.

By about this time, I'm really annoyed.  I wanted the table to work.  It's one thing to have me miss work to do my civic duty.  It's another thing to have me sit around doing nothing.  I would have rather worked on something, but now I couldn't do that, either.  I was frustrated, but I didn't make a scene.  I didn't really want to be taken to a court room for any reason other than jury duty.  Finally, we're told to shut off all electronics, because the judge would be coming to address us.  She came in, thanked us for our time, reiterated the importance of our civic duty (because nothing says, "good citizen," like sitting quietly in a room for four hours doing nothing).  Then she said, "I need to tell you what's been going on downstairs and the reason why you've been left up here doing nothing."

She went on to explain that, despite her normal personal rules, she allowed the prosecutor and the defendant to come to a plea agreement.  She said she normally wouldn't allow that right before the trial started.  I thought it was strange, because I've seen a lot of Law & Order, and I know that's not Hollywood normal.  Then she told us why she broke her rule.  The man who was on trial was charged with criminal sexual conduct in the first and second degree, and he was also being charged with creating pornographic materials with children.  She said that if she had brought us downstairs, we would have ended up seeing the evidence, and that included the videos he had made.  So she thought better to allow the plea agreement and spare us from seeing something like that, which we could never unsee.

I'm so glad the judge used her discretion and didn't bring us down to the court room.  I was shook up just knowing I almost saw that.  I would have been completely wrecked if I had actually seen it.  You never know what you are being spared from when you are left waiting, but sometimes, it's worse than a car accident.

don't do that to your kid

As many of you have seen (or maybe you've just heard about it), a potential father of the year candidate recently posted a video on his daughter's Facebook profile as a means of punishment.  Basically, she said that she didn't like the way her parents treated her (with colorful language), and he proved her point by being a complete jerk.  I watched the video after a few friends posted it, claiming this dad was "awesome" and "knew how to handle children."

I was surprised by a couple of things related to this video.  First, I'm surprised any parent anywhere would come up with such an idea.  The second thing I'm surprised by is that the dad was surprised his daughter had a foul mouth and bad attitude.  These kinds of things are inherent, and when your child starts exhibiting this kind of behavior, you may want to step back a minute and look at yourself.  I'm not surprised that neither person who sent it directly to me has kids, because I think once you have kids and love them, you realize how ridiculous this is.

I will never understand the parent who intentionally publicly humiliates his/her child.  Not only is it unbiblical - we'll get there - but it's really kind of an immature response.  It's an adult temper tantrum, really.  It's like you're stomping your feet and saying, "He did something I don't like, and I'm really mad."   You shouldn't do that to your kid.  There is no circumstance under which publicly humiliating your child is okay behavior.  When Jakob throws a tantrum, especially in public, I correct him.  I do not let him think that is okay behavior.  I do not undermine that lesson by throwing a tantrum in return. You'll never read on my Facebook or Twitter pages about how bad Jakob is and how mad he makes me sometimes.  He's a two-year old.  He's going to upset me.  He's going to misbehave.  But I love him, and it's not my goal to have you look down on him for it.

Do you know why I would never tell you when my son is misbehaving?  Because there is one verse on parenting in the Bible that I have memorized and live out.  All parents just love Ephesians 6:1-3.  Why wouldn't we?  But Ephesians 6:4 is what moves me: "Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger by the way you treat them. Rather, bring them up with the discipline and instruction that comes from the Lord."  Do not provoke your child to anger.  How can you provoke your child to anger?  You can set unreasonable goals for them.  You can always tell them what they do wrong and never affirm them for what they get right.  You can show favoritism to one child and see how quickly the other gets angry.  And you can publicly humiliate your child.  I work with kids, and some of them have experienced public humiliation at the hands of their parents.  Guess what each of these kids has in common.  They hate it.  It upsets them.  It embarrasses them.  It never fixes them.

Here's a closing note.  We set the bar of our expectations for our children by how we treat them.  Often times, he/she will believe what you say about them. If I tell my son that he is an idiot or that he's a screw up and can do nothing right, then I have set the bar very low for him.  He will not have to work very hard to achieve what he thinks his limits are.  So if you tell your child he's an idiot, and he acts like one, you should take him out for ice cream.  He managed to achieve what you told him was possible for him.  But maybe it's a better idea if you just don't do that to your child.

at my dad's church

I'll be upfront with you right away.  I'm about to brag on my children's ministry volunteers.  Why?  Well, I can, and because they are worth bragging about.

Recently, a guy from church wanted to share the story of his son's baptism with me.  He was baptized at his mom's church, because that's what his mom wanted, and as a young man, he kind of liked the whole production value of this church's baptisms.  The church records interviews with those that are to be baptized and have them explain what brought them to that decision.  I'm not knocking the idea.  I think it's great.  But when they asked this young man how he came to accept Jesus, he began his answer with, "Well, at my dad's church..."  Most subsequent answers started the same way.  They tried wording questions differently to get a more usable answer from him, but that's what they kept getting.  The day he was baptized, the video was shown, and not knowing differently, the lead pastor said, "When he says, 'my dad's church,' he's talking about this church.'"  Of course, he wasn't, but I really don't think the pastor knew that.

This young man goes to our church every other week.  He has come up through the ranks, if you will.  Our toddler and preschool teachers had him for four years.  He's been in our elementary ministry for about four more years.  When asked what brought him to wanting to accept Jesus as Savior, his answer was, "at my dad's church..."  Why?  Because at his dad's church, he's taught the Bible faithfully by faithful volunteers.  Years before I ever came here, this was run solely by volunteers.  Many of those volunteers are still here, still serving, still giving what they've got, so that boys and girls can come to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ.  Sometimes working silently in children's ministry can feel like behind the scenes work, but there is reward.  There are kids who come to know Jesus through their work.  I love my volunteers.  I'm proud to be associated with them.  These volunteers make my job doable, they make my job desirable, and most importantly, they make an impact on the lives of children that will last for an eternity.

kids say the most spiritual things

I love being a children's pastor.  I'm not sure how good I am at it.  I marvel at some of the children's pastors that I follow.  I have no idea how they can be so organized, driven, and good at this when I often feel like I'm getting by.  But even getting by, I love what I do.  Part of the reason I love it is because I get to hear what kids are saying.  I know a lot more about the parents in this church than they think I know, because kids don't have a filter.  A story about Christmas morning can really turn into a story about anything.  I sometimes wonder how some of the parents would react if I ever told them what their kids tell me.  The good thing for them is that I hear a lot, and I don't remember whose story goes with what kid and parent.

Kids don't just rat out their families.  They say some pretty outstanding things.  I assume we're all familiar with "Kids Say the Darndest Things," between one of its runs, but it's not just the darndest things they say.  They also say some of the most spiritual things.

Sunday morning, I was teaching the elementary kids about why Jesus was referred to as the Lamb of God.  So I talked a little bit about Old Testament sacrifice (without getting graphic).  I talked about our need for a greater sacrifice, and how God provided that through Jesus.  I told them that God must love us so much to give us a gift like that.  Then a kid raised his hand.  Now, I know not to call on this kid.  It's a standard rule of mine, because the answer always deviates to vampires, werewolves, fights, and video games.  No matter what I'm asking, he circles back to his staples, and it scares some of the younger kids.  So I generally make him wait and tell me after I'm done teaching.  In fact, I try to only call on kids when I'm asking a question that needs answering, because otherwise, I have no idea where it's going, especially with this kid.  But there was something in his face, so I did call on him, and I'm glad he did.  Here's what he said:

"My dad says that he thinks God hates him.  I told him that's not true, but he keeps saying it.  I think he thinks that, because he and my mom are divorced, but I know God loves him.  I tell my dad that. He always says that God must hate him, because bad stuff keeps happening, but I told him that just because bad things happen doesn't mean God doesn't love him.  It's just that sometimes we make bad mistakes, and then things happen.  It's not God's fault.  He still loves us."

I feel like I should tell you that this little guy did not grow up in church, and he's only been attending church for a few months. I think he's getting it, though.  On a separate note, another little boy asked me on Sunday why we have to give money in the offering, when in the Old Testament, they gave animals.  I tried to quickly explain the difference in our economies.  Kids say the most spiritual things.  Pastors get suckered into giving lame answers that none of the kids care about.

severing negative ties

Have you ever struggled with being bitter?  I have.  I think most of us have.  I think it starts out with being hurt, but then it escalates.  There's a difference between hurting and being bitter.  I'm not sure there's an exact line you can draw and say, "if it's been ____ days/weeks/months/years, you're just being bitter," but I am sure that bitterness is obvious.  It may not be obvious to the bitter person, but it has a way of revealing itself to the rest of us.  I have gone through being bitter, only to have someone who cares enough about me to tell me I needed to shape up.

My bitterness started with legitimate hurting.  I had been hurt by something that I cared a great deal for and had placed an enormous amount of faith in: the church.  It sucked.  Pastors don't go into ministry expecting to get chewed up and spit out.  Professors do tell you that most people that go into ministry do not last, but they make it sound like its entirely the fault of the weak individual who falls out of ministry.  They forget to tell you that there are probably people who "have made it" in ministry only to step all over the young pastors.

Coming out of a place of hurt, I actually found it therapeutic to read some blogs and follow some twitter accounts that reflected how I felt.  These guys had been through what I had been through, to varying extents, and I identified with their pain.  I guess it comforted me to know that I wasn't the only one that had been there.  I can't say that it was overly helpful, though.  Time passed, and I continued reading their posts and tweets, and I began to notice something.  Every time I read something, it would put me back in the negative place I had been before.  I would feel like the wound was fresh, the anger was justified, and I would stew over it for a while.

I made the decision to stop reading certain blogs, following certain tweeters, and I unsubscribed from some people's Facebook feeds.  I cannot get myself to delete most people from Facebook.  I would feel too guilty.  I think I've only ever unfriended two people ever, but they were definitely not friends, and they went out of their way to show it.  Anyway, I cut off ties to negative people.  I stopped feeding that part of my flesh.  And you know what?  I missed it at first.  I would think about going to blogs just to see what was going on, but I would stop myself.  As time went by, I stopped missing it.  I don't like being upset, anymore.

Who in your life is causing you to always think negatively?  Who in your life is causing you to sin in your mind?  Are you in a position that you could lovingly tell them to shape up, as one of my mentors did for me?  If not, maybe it's time, as the new year rolls in, to stop listening to that person. Stop reading their material. Start focusing on those things that build you up, draw you closer to God, and make you a better person.

Philippians 4:8, "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things."

his first "I love you"

Jakob doesn't say much.  He is not like his dad.  His pediatrician suggested we have him checked just to make sure there were no looming issues causing his delayed speech, which was a nice way to make us worry over nothing for two months while we waited for him to be seen.  Turns out he is very smart, just as we suspected, and he just doesn't talk, because he doesn't want to and doesn't need to. All that being said, he just doesn't have the expansive vocabulary of some kids his age.

One thing we've been dying for him to say is, "I love you."  He's known it was a good phrase since he was just a little baby.  I have a picture of him in my office - taken by  Sunshine & Daisies Photography - with him smiling in response to my saying, "I love you," to him. He wouldn't smile for the photographer, so I leaned over him, made eye contact, and I told him that I loved him.  His face lit up.  He didn't know what it meant, but he knew it was a positive phrase he had heard 100 times a day for the two and a half months he'd been around.  We figured that we had said it so much that it would have been one of his very first things to say.  It wasn't.

On Tuesday, I asked Jakob who my buddy was.  He pointed to himself.  I asked him who his buddy was.  He pointed to me and said, "buddy!"  Then he kept saying buddy over and over.  This is a common "game" we play.  I thought maybe he was in a talkative mood, so I would try to teach him to say, "love."  It was better than nothing.  So I asked him, "Jakob, who does Daddy love?"  He said, "Mommy!"  What a smart boy.  I agreed that I did love his mommy, but then I asked again, "But who else does Daddy love?"  He pointed at himself and said, "love!"  I asked him who he loved, and he pointed at me, touching my chest with his finger, and he yelled, "love!"  It was his first "I love you," but it is something that has been repeated non-stop all week by Sarah and me.