On a historical night…
It has been over a year since I have written a blog. What constitutes this event is the fact that while I swore I wouldn’t stay awake and watch election returns I am still awake at midnight and the President of the United States still has not been called. After all, I stayed awake to watch the Cubs beat my beloved Indians.
From the beginning, I was not a fan of Mr. Trump or Mrs. Clinton and made it clear. But as it became clear that one of them would become the President I had to ask very deep theological questions about this election. I cannot judge the hearts of men or women, but the evidence suggests that both have significant questions with regards to how they view Jesus, the Bible, and orthodox Christianity.
So, this is where I have landed. The Church needs to pray that our leaders humble themselves before God. The Church needs to pray that the hearts and minds of our leaders are submitted to Jesus Christ. The Church needs to pray that our leaders support policies that favor religious freedom and protect the lives of the unborn. The Church needs to quit praying that a Christian is elected, but that whoever is elected repents of their sin and submits to the rule and authority of Jesus Christ.
Before polls were officially closed I gathered with some men and this is exactly what we did. I hope that we all understand that when the dust settles The Church will still need to pray. This is only the beginning.
God Bless The Church!
God Help America!
Help Us Kickstart a Church
Recently there has been a fairly creative way for people to fund inventions and create them. It’s called crowdsourcing. Maybe you’ve heard of Kickstarter and Quirky or maybe not. In both cases they tap into the power of social media to help fund things like the Blue Like Jazz Movie or the Pebble Smart Watch or to design and create things like our favorite Cordies or the Broom Groomer Pro.
We want to do the same thing, but we want to crowdsource planting a church. There will be more to come on the story of regeneration Church, and some of it you can pick up on our website. The short story goes something like this,
“God called a kid to preach who became a scientist who, figuratively speaking, eventually got tired of living in the belly of a fish and decided to begin the process of becoming a preacher. Eventually God called he, and his family of eight, to preach to his Ninevah. So, he did and people came and people were changed and the story goes on.”
We want to take a moment and ask you to give to something eternal this Christmas. We need 10,000 people to give $25, or 1000 to give $250, or 100 to give $2500 to the 250k Fund. After you give we need your help to share it as well. So, hit the Like or Tweet buttons. We could try to do this without you, but it’s a better story if you came along for the ride.
Everything we raise above our goal will go toward the planting of another church.
We’ve made it easy for you to give. We hope to have the privilege of sending you a Christmas card thanking you for your gift.
Just in case you didn’t hit one of the give links above you can go to https://pushpay.com/pay/
18 Years Old – an Ode to Shelbi
Shelbi at 3, end of first photo shoot
Today we not only celebrate the life of our oldest daughter, but in more ways than she will ever know her arrival changed the course of our lives.
Her arrival sparked a certain urgency in Kristi to find me a job. Indirectly Shelbi is responsible for me spending the last 17 years at Lexmark.
I also happened to gain a significant amount of weight during that first pregnancy. So, indirectly Shelbi is responsible for me weighing more than I should. 🙂
I wasn’t the best husband in the world. In fact, the Cowboys were playing on TV while Kristi was in labor with Shelbi. And while I tried to enjoy the game I was strongly encouraged, maybe threatened is more accurate, by my Lamaze Instructing mother and wife to massage feet and calves for hours. So, Shelbi is indirectly responsible for my fading fanaticism in regards to the Dallas Cowboys…that and Jerry Jones. And is also indirectly responsible for making me more responsible.
We built a house because Shelbi was coming. We bought a car because she was coming. We spent money on a glider and bought a brown Lay Z Boy because she was coming (it’s still my chair). We bought a really good, and really expensive, vacuum cleaner because she came (we still have the same Kirby and would never own anything else). We bought a video camera because she came. I learned that putting together a crib can take hours, that the best way to relieve constipation is to shove a thermometer in your rear end, that holding you so you faced out and pulling your knees to your chest helped relieve some of your colicky pain – boy were we exhausted those first few months, and that breast milk isn’t always the best form of nutrition. I learned that there are some hurts Daddy can’t fix, and there are some fears Daddy can’t fight. I learned how to trust doctors to do surgery…twice. I learned that blankets with holes in them can bring comfort and two fingers are always better than one, but allowing you to suck fingers instead of a pacifier was a poor choice regardless of how cute it was. I learned that it is possible for a nine year old to be compassionate (Bunko for Tsunami Recovery Birthday). I learned that suffering through being the oldest child doesn’t prepare you to raise your oldest child. I learned that regardless of how well you think you know your kid it is never a good reason to fail to get to know your kid. I learned that being up front with my kids with my mistakes doesn’t necessarily mean my kids won’t make the same mistakes with worse consequences.
Senior picture with Momma
Most of all I learned to love. Unconditionally love. And for that I think everyone should thank you.
Regardless of the cost, the change, the lessons, the pain you were worth it. You is kind, you is smart, you is important. Welcome to adulthood. Now the true test of whether or not we did a good job of being your parents begins. May God be gracious and merciful because perfect we were not.
To that I think I can hear you say, “AMEN, brutha!”