Tell the World

We tell the world all of our greatest moments and others' biggest blunders.

In years past it was our small world gathered around the fridge to gaze upon spring pictures and report cards from school.

Our world then grew to include the mailing list of recipients for Christmas cards in the mail.

Now we've expanded our world to include hundreds of FB friends and Instagram followers. Goodness, even thousands of likes with the right tag line of trending events.

And so this weekend I will have the privilege to help my son tell the world of his latest news. To help create what I hope will become an unforgettable moment.

It was eight years ago when his mom told me she was pregnant and it was then that we began praying for the day that he would become a follower of Jesus. And a couple of months ago he made the decision to follow Christ.

While his journey is just now beginning, my hopes are that he will not waver in what I consider to be the most important decision in his life. That doubts will not creep in. That his flesh will not win out. That evil will not prevail. That Christ wins his thoughts and affections every time.

Many people have compared baptism to the exchanging of rings on a wedding day. While baptism doesn't save you, it does become an outward expression of inward change when choosing to follow Christ. Even so, a wedding ring illustrates the covenant relationship you have with your spouse.

However, just like a wedding band cannot be the guarantor of a abiding commitment to love your spouse, baptism is not the guarantor of a totally devoted life to Christ. Believe me, I know. But both are meant to serve as a constant reminder of the day when the vow of submission was made and meant to be cherished and cultivated for a lifetime.

I'm so excited to see that my son has chosen to take this step of faith to follow Christ. He has a family that loves him and wants to see him be successful in every area of life. But most importantly, to reflect a Christ-likeness in his life that is unparalleled to any other announcement or achievement he could possibly imagine.

He has a church family that has embraced him as one of their own. It is becoming a place where he can continue to grow and develop as he learns to worship and serve others in the context of our church community.

And I'm so thankful to my church family for allowing me the awesome opportunity to take part in his baptism. To create an unforgettable moment for the both of us. To be reminded again by this up close and personal encounter of the sacrifice Christ has made for us. God help me to be reminded that we are to put to death every old way of life because we have been raised to walk in a new life that can only be found in Him.

Son, when you read this I hope you know how proud I am of you. And how exciting it is to know that you have chosen to follow Jesus. Not a day goes by that you don't put a smile on my face. Not only are you my son but you are now my brother in Christ. And it is my responsibility and my privilege to walk alongside you to encourage you and help direct your steps on this journey of faith. We may not get it right every single time, but remember, we are both a work in progress. I get so excited when I think about the young man you are becoming. And as long as God gives me breath I want my life to be a life that gives you a godly example of a father and a friend. My prayer for you and me both has been and always will be that we would go where God leads, do what God says, and become the person God has called us to be.

Snow and Basketball

It was this weekend some 24 years ago that we loaded up and took off to the midget league state basketball tournament without a care in the world.

And only one word on our minds, "Domination!"

As we arrived at the hotel, we piled out of our parents' minivans onto the asphalt of our new home for the weekend, the Super 8 Hotel.

The team gathered for a pre-game snack and went over the game plan for Friday night's duel with the host team, the Villa Rica Wildcats.

After the hard fought victory we did what every little league team does, celebrate. With a trip to the world's greatest post-game cuisine, Pizza Hut.

As parents scurried all of us kids back into our hotel rooms we were scheduled to play the next morning in the semi-final matchup of the state tournament. But we were certainly caught off guard by what happened next.

No amount of coaching could have prepared us for this. It wasn't about defense or easy baskets!

Now it was survival!

We woke up to what appeared to be 10 foot tall mounds of white powder scattered across that asphalt landscape as far as our eyes could see!

And while the kids were screaming with excitement, parents were cringing with fear. Nobody was prepared for this. Not enough clothing. Not enough money. Not enough food. But we had plenty of time.

So we put on our uniforms, sweatpants, and hoodies with plastic bags over our shoes and trekked out into the snow-ridden landscape of parked cars, sidewalks, and street signs firing off one snowball after another.

While the players sat in hotel rooms to thaw out frozen fingers and toes, parents conjured up a plan to remedy "Destination Not Going Home." So the older siblings went to the local Ingles supermarket to bag groceries in exchange for food for our families.

In a world without cell phones and power outages all throughout the region there was certainly a heightened state of nervousness among parents meshed with the carefree spirits of their kids. Surprisingly enough not one single child went missing nor any parent arrested for being pent up in a hotel for 5 days while we weathered the blizzard of '93.

By day 3, our excitement for the snow had turned to boredom and now as parents were reeling from the dread of their homes being damaged they were being forced to entertain the kids as well. Talk about a tall task to bear!

While the state tourney had become an afterthought, I will say this and move on. We returned the following weekend with "redemption" on our minds (we were last year's runner-up) to face off against a supremely talented Ft. Stewart team. We lost. Still bitter. Enough said.

While that weekend and the subsequent days of processing the events of basketball, a blizzard, little cash flow, and concern for our homes have been engraved in our minds, maybe there's something more to consider.

We as kids were able to be carefree because our parents were responsible for our care. They let us play in the snow, kept us warm in our hotel rooms, fed us meals from the groceries our brothers had retrieved.

And here we are some 20+ years later, deliberating over significant decisions that we need to make, wondering if the world is going to come crashing down on us. And our Father is trying to say, "I've got this!"

No, it won't always go as planned. No, we may not have the best clothes, the most expensive gadgets or toys, eat at the fanciest restaurants, or run in some elite circle of acquaintances. But He does make this promise, "I will provide."

So whether it snows or rains on your little parade, remember, there's a good, good Father watching over us and caring for us in every circumstance of your life.

Whether you feel stranded on an island of self-pity or grief. Or whether you're living among the rainbows and cloudless days without a care in the world. He's there. He will not abandon you.

And maybe just maybe we will notice His presence and be more grateful for all that He's doing for us. But more importantly what He's wanting to do in us.

Safe and Secure

Abram, pack your bags! We're going on a trip (not in our favorite rocket ship). Where are we going? To a place I will show you.

Does that sound safe? No.

Joseph, you're going to Egypt. You'll be sold into slavery, accused of rape, betrayed by inmates. Just you wait...

Does that sound safe? No.

Moses, you're going to be raised in a palace. Awesome, right? But you're going to the desert. Not before you stand before Pharoah and make a declaration to let God's people go.

Does that sound safe? No.

Esther, you're beautiful! Haman, he's jealous of you and your family. He's ready to drop the hammer. But I've chosen you, Esther. You're going to stand before the king.

Does that sound safe? No.

Daniel, you're going to Babylon. You and you're boys get ready. It's going to be hot. They're raising the temperature of the furnace and the lions are hungry.

Does that sound safe? No.

Can somebody please tell me the difference between safe and secure?

Safe removes all risks. Safe stays close to the shore. Safe huddles up in spaces that require very little sacrifice.

It appears that we've created a watered down version of Christianity in the Western world. Where we play it safe and keep it sanitized with occasional drippings of our favorite Bible verses on coffee mugs and Instagram photos.

We make our weekly visits to cathedrals of consumerism splashed with melodies of musical preference and therapeutic sermons; hoping we aren't hard-pressed to make sacrifices or come under grave conviction for our lavish lifestyles driven by comfort and entertainment.

Secure is holding to the confidence granted by God that no matter the circumstances He's going to accomplish His eternal purposes for all the world to see His glory. That in spite of moments like betrayal and brokenness God will fulfill the plan He established before the foundation of the world.

When Peter and John were in custody of the religious elite, their lives were in danger. They were threatened. Bullied. Meant to be made scared. It wasn't safe. But they were secure.

They charged them not to speak or teach at all in the name of Jesus. Their response, "Whether it is right to listen to you rather than God, you judge. We cannot but speak of what we have seen and heard."

Many who call themselves Christians have an idealistic view that life is meant to be safe. Easy. Fun. Comfortable. But these ideals were never meant to be the driving force of our commitment.

Christians are called to trust and obey. To believe His promise. To feel secure.

No doubt, Peter and John remembered Jesus' response to Pilate's threats when he said, "Don't you know that I have the authority to release you or to crucify you?"

And Jesus responded, "You would have no authority over me unless it had been given you from above." That's bold. That's the words of someone who's secure.

Too many Christians are preoccupied by the limits of their own safety devices. Living in our safe neighborhoods. Driving our safe cars. Playing with our safe friends. Working our safe jobs. Keeping tabs on our safe bank accounts. Enjoying our safe vacations. Planning for our safe retirement.

And we seldom consider the thought that safe was never the intent. Faith is. Trusting God by putting our lives on the front lines of obedience. And rather than shrinking back in fear that we'll be threatened, punished, criticized, or rejected; we are called to stand up. Stand out. Live by faith.

God's not asking for monumental faith or a radical display of obedience. He's asking for moment by moment faith. That each decision flow through the channel of His eternal promise to be with you. He's always with you! That's the difference between safe and secure!

She Said Yes

Lady of the night. Harlot. Prostitute.

Entering the front door. Slipping out the back door.

Every favor met with few questions and little opposition.

But this night was different.

Her house. Not his. Two people. Not one. For what? How much was the payoff this time?

Two spies. Their life was on the line. And now so was hers.

What did they promise? Life.

What did she say? She said yes.

She lowered the scarlet thread from her bedroom window and provided their way of escape.

Her life was riding the wave of keeping this secret. No doubt she had kept secrets many nights before. But tonight was different. She was not pledging the secrets of her sin. She was pledging the secret of complete annihilation of her city.

But she was convinced that the testimony sworn to her by these spies would change her life forever. And she complied in every way imaginable to secure their hidden identity and their promise that her life would be spared when the army returned.

More than loving her sin. More than loving her own life. She had a new found love for the God of Israel as her heart had been "melted" by the testimony of His actions.

What an amazing story of grace. Two spies enter a whorehouse and promise her life if she'll keep one more dirty little secret. Surprisingly, she does. And the rest is history.

Many of us know her as Rahab the harlot. But we would do well to remember her not by her past indecencies but rather by the moment of faith when she first believed and the grace she had now received.

There are two significant places in Scripture where her name is recorded that certainly paint a different picture of her new identity as God's chosen vessel to pour out His unmistakable plan onto the pages of redemptive history.

Matthew's Gospel records the lineage of Jesus where we find Rahab's name as ancestor of God's Son. The writer of Hebrews also records her name in the acclaimed "Hall of Faith" as one who did not perish with the rest of her city but received life because she welcomed spies into her home.

All because of her willingness to forgo a life harlotry and embrace a real relationship of love, grace, and forgiveness.

She said yes. But it did not come without a contending no. She said no to the sinful and shameful actions of a prostitute to say yes to a healthy and hopeful life as a follower of God.

You and I also have the privilege of laying aside the burden of guilty and shameful living for a life found in Christ. So what we must do is stop prostituting our affections to the highest bidder of our self-made gods that fail to satisfy or give us hope.

Giving God our Yes requires saying No to whatever competes for His attention and affection in this life He's called us to live. So the question remains, "will you say yes?"

The Gospel of SnapChat

I was recently invited to speak to a group of students and I as thought about my opening line the best I had was, "Who has SnapChat?" I immediately segregated the room by age; 12-21 and everybody else.

Don't get me wrong; the adult population is very familiar with social media. Facebook is the medium for everyone raising children and grandchildren. That's why the teens left the FB scene. Instagram is becoming the mediator for all ages; the teens were ready for adult invasion with this one. And SnapChat, well, it's for the cool people.

So, after most every students' hand was raised it was time to get to work. Identify the one person who could give me a clear-cut tutorial for how this SnapChat phenomenon works.

Phone in hand, app opened to a camera screen, she began snapping photos. So I said, "That's it! This is all the teenage buzz! It's a camera app!"

Then one by one, other students in the audience began making their appeal for the greatest app in the short history of apps. "You can choose filters! Add captions! Create groups! The photos can be erased! But you can take screen shots!" And the immediate feedback from these experts had my mind boggled.

Then it happened.

As we were standing there with phone in hand a new SnapChat message was received. Two ladies in the back of the room. Two mothers, whom I have the utmost respect, had taken to the SnapChat scene in the middle of my presentation. Are you kidding me?

But it couldn't have been at a more appropriate time.

Here's the crux of the story. We speak to what we are most passionate about.

The gospel of SnapChat has been utilized to tell millions of stories to millions of people crossing all lines of association; it's crossed the lines of age, race, socioeconomic status, sexual preference, and religious and political affiliation.

I made sure the students understood that the gospel of Jesus is no different. We will certainly share His story if indeed we find ourselves passionate about what He's done.

No amount of fear, frustration, or futility can stand in the way of us expressing our experiences to the masses of people with the platform that we've been given. This incredible news, the gospel of Jesus, is paramount to enlightening a generation of a life made possible only through the work of a cross. And that work is incomparable to any social media outlet we could ever experience.

So, why aren't we telling people about the gospel? It's easy. We've lost our appetite for His story. We've given our passions away to other, lesser things. We have found the ways of this world to be more satisfying than the ways of Christ.

What we need is a reminder of how satisfying He really is. To regain that passionate pursuit for the relationship He longs to have with us. Then, we will tell the story; the Gospel of Jesus Christ!

'Twas the Day After Christmas

'Twas the day after Christmas
And all through the store
There were clothes put on clearance
From ceiling to floor.
At home in the living room
Where worn wrapping paper was laying
Parents uncovered kids' gifts
While they were outside playing.
Around the decorated tree
Lay boxes for lights
To be stacked in the closet
Tucked away out of sight.
We'll do it all again next year
Perhaps beginning in November
But starting now until then
His birth we'll barely remember.

Christmas has become a celebration of holiday meals, gift giving, and family photos. And we find ourselves year after year trying to create a more pleasurable experience with more tinsel and lights and family games and tacky sweaters.

Is it possible that we have found ourselves going from one scene to another hoping that our pleasures will be outdone? One relationship to the next? One job to the next? One city to the next? One social circle to the next? All to be satisfied! But only for a moment!

Not only have we forfeited many opportunities to actually enjoy life because it was simply ordinary but in many instances we as Christians have forfeited moments to find real purpose and meaning because we've reduced our lives to those momentary pleasures that left us reeling for something more.

It's sad to think that we have reduced Christmas to a holiday garnering social media hype and advertising of various brands. The birth of Christ was never meant to be neatly packaged by candlelight services, Christmas carols, or a nativity scene on our coffee tables. His birth was the catalyst for transformation. While the star pointed some to His birth, His birth pointed us to true life.

So, before we pack up all our decorations maybe we can take a moment to reflect on that first Christmas morning; the day of His birth. To remember that the first Christmas wasn't all glitter and glam. It was grimy! It was certainly not what any of us would have imagined.

Christianity isn't all for putting on smiles and attending mass or a candlelight service. It's not Santa Claus or family photos. It's not receiving gifts or even giving them away. Christianity is seeing that Christmas accommodated His arrival that led to the climactic scene of His death and resurrection.

You and me? Well, it requires a response. A response that we will declare with our lives for the next 365 days. We either believe He came or He didn't. And if He came and lived and died the way it's told, we cannot simply celebrate with the exchanging of gifts. We must exchange our life for His!

Not So Silent Night

Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright

While that familiar tune is one of the most oft sung Christmas carols in the world, it's not the way most mothers tell the story of their son being born.

There wasn't anything silent or calm with her newborn baby frantically screaming; certainly, it was far from a holy night given the pains of childbirth (I read somewhere that childbirth was more like a curse).

Back to that familiar Christmas nativity for a moment. We've serenaded many a congregation with those lyrics of Silent Night, Away in a Manger, and Angels We Have Heard on High. And while they create a festive mood for this time of year, perhaps we've romanticized the story slightly more than it was ever meant to be.

Seriously! Think about the characters of this story for a moment.

A Jewish teen named Mary conceived a child by way of a miracle. Her fiancé Joseph was informed of her conception through a dream. Star gazers, called magi, from the east followed a specially named star to bring gifts to the child. Shepherds in the field were serenaded by heavenly hosts.

That sounds almost unbelievable.

While it does sound a bit make believe, Disney-like to be honest, it has most definitely made a profound impact throughout the entire world.

But what happens next is amazing in and of itself; it's the not so silent night!

It was during the reign of Herod that this other king, this savior if you will, was born. Herod was an egomaniac whose power was threatened by the reputation of a newborn. So he decided to slaughter all the male babies in the region. Let's just say he was the Hitler or Stalin of Jesus' day.

So, Mary and Joseph and Jesus fled. And all the while God was working behind the scenes, just as He often does, to secure His plan from being thwarted by inhumane human behavior.

And for thirty years Jesus walked the streets, treating others with grace, meeting physical needs, building relationships, forsaking his own means of gratification, forgoing any material gain. For what? One more not so silent night!

The night of His betrayal, He heard the screams of His accusers, the denial of one of His own disciples, and most certainly the cries of His mother. And in those moments of His crucifixion, surely, it was a 'not so silent night' as He screamed in anguish and torment upon that Roman cross.

You see, when we consider the lovely story of Jesus lying in a manger, that was simply the prologue for a story of death. The plot line takes many twists and turns from the cradle to the cross. But inevitably, He came to die. And His death requires a response.

All too often we dress up the story of Jesus in the manger as being something lovely. But His birth is meant to point to the cross. He came to die! And it cannot remain a silent night for you and me.

We must choose to believe the story of Jesus and completely surrender our lives to Him or, like Herod, feel the pressure of having our very own kingdom threatened by the coming of the Promised Messiah!

Should I Stay or Go?

Who, in their right mind, would leave their pregnant wife?

Yet, given the circumstances, who in their right mind would stay?

There he was, making an attempt to stay faithful and pure, and here comes his bride with news that certainly rocked their relationship to the core.

"I'm pregnant!" Talk about an emotional appeal!

Those words have the power to bring anyone to tears. Tears of joy surrounded with much anticipation. Or tears of anger crowded around thoughts of betrayal.

And there he was. With a decision to make. Stay or go? Public or private? Hold a grudge or choose to forgive?

And just before he finalized his decision to "put her away quietly," the unimaginable happened. Something like a supernatural being appeared to him in a dream.

You see, in this culture driven by laws and traditions, it was well within his right to have her publicly humiliated even stoned to death for her unfaithful and hideous behavior.

But this heavenly being, this angel if you will, made a serious appeal for this man to place his initial response on the backburner of human logic and receive this divine interruption as a major twist in the story line of redemption.

So this couple, Mary and Joseph, just two ordinary individuals drafted into God's grand narrative, chose to say yes to His invitation without requiring a detailed explanation.

In a culture where they were certain to be ridiculed and ostracized with heavy words that would wound their most coveted relationships, they found more solace in the unveiled promise of Emmanuel than the weight of accusations and public opinion.

No doubt "God with us" had been attributed a great cost, but they realized the reward of their obedience far outweighed the cost of any amount of disobedience.

Mary could have fled amid the fear of being "caught" in the bout of her mysterious conception. Joseph could have convincingly won any argument of her unfaithfulness and abandoned his bride. Yet they vowed to believe the unbelievable. To see the impossible made possible. To see the darkness overwhelmed by the light.

And now today, because they chose to believe the miraculous and did not abandon the supernatural, we celebrate the birth of their son, God's Son, Emmanuel, God with us.

What we never could have conceived on our own was conceived in faith by trusting Him and His plan to reconcile us back to Himself. And it all began with a Jewish carpenter and his teenage bride saying yes to the greatest invitation in the world; giving birth to the Savior of the world!

Turn Back the Clock

This weekend is like Walmart's "Roll back those prices" weekend! It's time to roll back the clocks.

I stayed up one hour later than my normal curfew watching college football because I knew I could make up the extra hour in my sleep!

We all witnessed this chance to turn back time. For what?

One more hour to rest. One more hour to play. One more hour to celebrate. One more hour to wallow in pity. One more hour to be with friends. One more hour to hide in shame. One more hour to be grateful. One more hour to doubt.

Haven't we all had those moments where we wish we could turn back time?

Gone to that school. Taken that job. Married that girl. Moved to that city.

Not gone to that party. Not stayed out that late. Not made that phone call. Not made that deal.

The unfortunate reality is while we love weekends like this where we get one hour to turn back time, we can't turn back time on decisions we did or didn't make in our past.

Regret is real. Devastating. Shameful. Haunting.

But the good thing is that you don't have to be defined by your past. By the moments you missed because you hesitated. By the moments you missed because of pride. Or anger. Or jealousy. Or fear.

Turning back your clock is not meant to rewind and re-live all of your past mistakes. But it does allow us to take a look at our lives and learn how to be a better version of ourselves from this moment on.

When I reflect on my own life I realize that there have been moments that I've based my identity on trivial pursuits like academics, athletics, relationships, and religious rituals. And every single one of those idolatrous activities, while good in their own right, proved to steal something from me instead of breathing life into me.

What I've come to realize is that my identity is found in a weekend some 2,000 years ago. So when I turn back time, I turn it back to that weekend. It was a coming out party. Out of the grave party. And the one decision I made in regards to that weekend is one that I would repeat 100 times out of 100 to say yes to following a man raised from the dead!

So, today I choose to use my one extra hour celebrating! Celebrating the life that I've been given to live for Him. No, I'm not perfect but my goal is to become more like Him with every breath I take and every step I take! That my next decision is made in light of who I am in Him!

Above and Among All Things

When I was a kid I was, how should I say, rambunctious. Hyper. Busy.

Coupled with being very competitive I was every teacher's aggravation. An occasional thorn in their side. Not on purpose. I just had a bad case of the "can't help its."

Every task was always a race. I wanted to be first to finish every worksheet. First in line at the water fountain. And what was worse, I liked to talk. A lot.

Needless to say I spent many days staring at blank walls in the hallway writing sentences or multiplication tables.

Did I mention my mom was a school teacher? In the same school where I was!

So, it shouldn't have been any surprise to hear the words "How was your day?" at the most inopportune times. "Good" or "fine" were always the wrong answer on those days. She wouldn't let well enough alone as she continued to pry and prod at the sore spots of my inability to stay focused, stay quiet, and stay seated.

On more than one occasion, I asked, "How did you know?" Seriously, how many times would it take before I finally believed her when she said, "Haven't you figured out, I know everything!"

It was like she was sitting in class with me watching my every move. And boy, were there a bunch of moves to note!

As savvy as my mom was at knowing so many of the uncanny details of my childhood, there's still one who knows more.

I feel like we often mistake Jesus as being impersonal and far away. While at other times we bring Him so close that He looks as imperfect and messy as we are.

The Bible says that 'all things were created through Him and for Him.' In other words, He is above all things and among all things.

To be above all things means He is eternal. He stands outside of time. He is before and after all things. He is perfect. He has never failed or had a lapse in His other-ness. He is all-powerful. The plan He has put into place cannot be thwarted in any way. It was always come to pass.

To be among all things means He is present. He doesn't take the day off, not one minute away from His very nature to show grace. He is faithful. He can be trusted and His words are sure. He is compassionate. He isn't taking resumes for those who might qualify for His attention. He is reaching into the lives of those who perhaps feel most dis-qualified to give hope and a future.

His eyes are on you. He sees you. He knows you. And while He loves you He will not be content to leave you where you are. He is above all things and He has a plan for you. He sees the end from the beginning. He is among all things and He promises to never leave or abandon you on this journey of getting you from where you are to the place He wants you to be.