At Least I’m in Good Company?

It’s no secret, I’m a horrible speller. It’s not that I don’t know how to spell, but that my brain often thinks faster than I can type or write. I’ve worked hard the last couple of years to slow down when I write, and pay better attention to details like “i before e” or using the correct “their, there, they’re” or “Your, You’re”. Still when I’ve sat down to write, re-read my writing, then re-read aloud. Somehow I still miss mistakes. Spelling efficiency becomes my white stag, impossible to catch no matter how are I try.

I aim to ever improve this deficiency, but for now I intend to offer myself and my contemporaries in spelling ineptitude a bit of solace. I present to you famously successful writers who were also deficient in spelling.

1. William Faulkner He enters the history of literature with a powerful legacy. Even if we’re just talking about The Sound and the Fury alone. However just like your’s truly, he lacked the detailed eye to spell words correctly. Here’s a quote from one of his editors at Random House, Albert Erskine, “I know that he did not wish to have carried through from typescript to printed book his typing mistakes, misspellings (as opposed to coinages), faulty punctuation and accidental repetition. He depended on my predecessors, and later on me, to point out such errors and correct them; and though we never achieved anything like a perfect performance, we tried.”

2. F. Scott Fitzgerald Epic writer? Successful writer? Ever hear of the Great Gatsby? Sit back and let out a deep commiserate sigh knowing that he too was widely known as a horrible speller. The Preeminent American literary critic Edmund Wilson described This Side of Paradise as “one of the most illiterate books of any merit ever published.” Yet it’s Fitzgerald who is the celebrated author and creator, and Wilson who gets his name known not by creating but by commenting on what has been created. Another win for the bad spellers.

3. John Keats You can’t call your self a poet without having some Keats somewhere on your shelf. Great writer. Inspiring. Considered by all a horrible speller including his girlfriend of sorts Fanny Brawne. Keats wrote her a poem and spelled the color purple, purplue. It became a well known story because it illustrated his constant inability to spell. So in essence you can chalk up my spelling maladroit to me just wanting to be like the ever brilliant John Keats.

4. Jane Austen She’s basically a household name. Penning a prolific number of period dramas that later changed the culture of romance in the hearts of conservative women everywhere. She successfully managed to craft the man of every woman’s dreams in Mr. Darcy while destroying the heart of every editor in the same swoop of her pen. She was widely considered an aweful speller. Many of her books came out years after she had passed simply because editors didn’t know what to do with the wretched construction of subjects and verbs. She once misspelled one of her works as Love and Freindship and is infamously known for always spelling scissors as scissars.

5. Ernest Hemingway Finally one of my favorite authors, who writing has inspired me through the years as a writer. Every one of his books and newspaper articles were considered disastrous. I heard a joke, which I’m sure isn’t true, that when we submitted one of his more famous books, the title read: Old Man and the See. Brilliant craftsman and storyteller, awful in spelling and grammar. Whenever his newspaper editors complained about it, as they often did, he’d retort, “Well, that’s what you’re hired to correct!”

While no one should overlook the discipline and need to spell and organize sentences correctly in writing. At least there is a little comfort that those of us who are spelling handicapped can still pursue the dream of writing.

The Peril of American Manhood

Below is an excerpt from the book I’m reading this week- Darrin Patrick’s Church Planter. (from my read a book a week plan) One of the things I have serious passion about is restoring what it means to be a man. I don’t mean restoring it to be defined by outdoor recreation, sports, cars, the woman on your arm, or your ability to mask your emotions. Manhood should be defined by one’s ability to live out the Sermon on the Mount. (Matthew 5-7) By how well one serves, loves, gives, responds in humility, meekness, and peace. While being able to bless and not retaliate on our enemies. 

The current status of men in our culture is in desperate need of revival. Manhood is in need of the power of God to turn the hearts of our nations’ men to be the Fathers, Husbands, and contributor’s to the glory of God that they were called to be. We need men who have a revelation of Jesus. We need men who have passion like the disciples, leadership like David, the work ethic of Noah, and the faithfulness of Daniel. I can only pray that God gives me the grace for biblical manhood to be alive and restore in my own life.

The excerpt below should break your heart.

Ladies pray for the men in our nation, we need you. Men let us embraces the freedom and power granted us at the cross and rise up with a cry for our creator that provokes a generation of men still trying to be boys. 

“We live in a world full of males who have prolonged their adolescence. They are neither boys nor men. They live, suspended as it were, between childhood and adulthood, between growing up and being grown-ups. Let’s call this kind of male Ban, a hybrid of both boy and man. Ban is juvenile because there has been an entire niche created for him to live in the lusts of youth. The accompanying culture not only tolerates this behavior but encourages it and endorses it. (Consider magazines like Maxim or movies like Wedding Crashers.) This kind of male is everywhere, including the church and even, frighteningly, vocational ministry. Ban may be a frightening reality in the church, but he is the best thing that ever happened to the video game industry. Almost half (about 48 percent) of American males between the ages of eighteen to thirty-four play video games every day—for almost three hours. The average video game buyer is thirty-seven years old. In 2005, 95 percent of computer game buyers and 84 percent of console game buyers were over the age of eighteen. Halo 3 grossed over three hundred million dollars in the U.S. in its first week, and more than one million people played Halo 3 on Xbox Live in the first twenty hours. Astonishingly, 75 percent of American heads-of-households play computer and video games.

It may be troubling to look at how Ban spends his money, but it is appalling to see how he relates to women. One needs only to follow Ban to “da club” to see what he thinks of and wants from the opposite sex. Again the stats tell the story. There are 9.7 million Americans living with an unmarried different sex partner and 1.2 million Americans living with a same-sex partner. Every second $3,075.64 is being spent on pornography, 28,258 Internet users view pornography, and 372 Internet users type adult search terms into search engines. Every thirty-nine minutes a new pornographic video is created in the United States. In the United States, 1.3 women are raped every minute. That results in seventy-eight rapes each hour, 1,872 rapes each day, 56,160 rapes each month, and 683,280 rapes each year. One out of every three American women will be sexually assaulted in her lifetime. The United States has the world’s highest rape rate of the countries that publish such statistics. It’s four times higher than Germany, thirteen times higher than England, and twenty times higher than Japan.

Unfortunately, many young women today have given up trying to find Mr. Right. They are coming to the stark reality that they are probably going to have to settle for Mr. So-So. Ban is good at selling himself as a man, but the reality is that he is just a “man wannabe.” Ban typically doesn’t like absolute truth, but he proves its existence through his continual devolution into junior-high behavior and its accompanying consequences. It is a transcultural reality that assuming the responsibilities of husband and father makes a boy into a man, but Ban doesn’t like responsibility, so he extends his adolescence as long as humanly possible. And by delaying having a family, which is the rite of many cultures’ progress into manhood, Ban is able to set his focus squarely and supremely on himself. As Ban puts off adulthood, he also puts off marriage. Why bother with a wife and a mortgage when you can live in your parents’ basement, play video games all day, participate in adult sports leagues at night, and barhop every weekend? Hymowitz notes that in 1970, 69 percent of twenty-five-year-old and 85 percent of thirty-year-old white men were married; in 2000 only 33 percent and 58 percent were, respectively. And the data suggests this trend is not slowing. I think this is one of the reasons young men love watching mixed martial arts. They project themselves onto these “superheroes,” men who are everything they are not: incredibly disciplined, courageous risk-takers who have the genuine respect of their peers. It’s as if watching real men in danger taps into the brain chemistry responsible for what we call masculinity. Curiously, the testosterone and adrenaline that encourage men to seek danger and risk are rarely tapped into for honorable purposes like lifelong marriage and parenting. Instead Ban settles for virtual reality and virtual relationships.

Some men cease fondling themselves, the game controller, or the TV remote and actually participate in adult sports leagues, including the child playground game kickball. Perhaps one major catalyst for young men’s love for recreational sports is that it replicates the kind of challenge and competitiveness sorely lacking from their own personal, professional, and spiritual lives. One author called team sports a “civilized substitute for war,” which would explain why so many men only seem to come alive emotionally on the inside and feel connected socially on the outside to their fellow “weekend warriors.” It has become mainstream to be an adult boy. The masculine journey from boyhood to manhood lies largely in the transition from engaging physically by inflicting pain to engaging emotionally by absorbing emotional pain and persevering through it. Boys must learn how to use their physical strength more passively than actively as they progress to manhood and become what David Gilmore calls “real men.” Real men “give more than they take . . . are generous, even to the point of sacrifice.” Being a man is about being tough and tender. I have three beautiful daughters who have not only stolen my heart but seem to walk around with it and toss it back and forth between them like a plaything, all the while taunting me with the fact that I’ll never be able to get it back from them! But I also have a son, Drew, and because of my keen awareness of and pastoral interaction with the cultural influence of Bans, I know that my work is cut out for me when it comes to raising a godly man. As with all of us dads with similar aspirations, my only hope is the Holy Spirit. So I recently wrote a little prayer that reflects the kind of men we need. Drew and I pray this prayer together almost every night. It is a prayer for him and for me: God, make me a man with thick skin and a soft heart. Make me a man who is tough and tender. Make me tough so I can handle life. Make me tender so I can love people. God, make me a man. All of this is to say that we have a couple of generations of males who were not raised by men, and the result is a prolonged male adolescence. In a culture where the influence of godly men is desperately needed, this void results in a legitimate cultural crisis.”

Patrick, Darrin (2010-08-12). Church Planter (Kindle Locations 193-213). Good News Publishers/Crossway Books. Kindle Edition.

5 More Things Going Into 30

2 DAYS until I turn 30 (February 18th). The last month I’ve been reflecting on the last 30 years and gearing up for the next 30. Reflecting on the past 3 decades I have learned a couple of lessons that I pray to not re-learn going forward. Over the next couple of days I will have a sereis of lessons that I have learned and or am learning that I hope to share for the soul purpose of having them published so I never forget. So this is Things going into 30 part 3… in 5 parts.

1. Jesus is the bar.

Specifically as it relates to pursuing my faith, trying to define whether or not I’m radically pursuing Jesus based on how those around me has always led to narcism. Jesus is not an idea, or belief system, He’s a human man who is also God. Therefore loving Him requires solidarity in focus. When I’m comparing my walk with God to someone else’s my end becomes to be like them, and not like Jesus. In trying to be like other people you become obsessed with everything you do. You passionately try to make sure it appears as though you are meeting the standard that their life seems to have produced. Your walk with Christ becomes less about His glory and more about your glory. It becomes about gaining praise from those you are striving to emulate. If there is one lesson I’ve learned over the last 30 years, it’s that Jesus sees me. He sees everything I do. When I believe that He sees me, I don’t care who else see me. When I believe He sees me, He becomes the one I fight to be like. My pursuit is Him, not anyone or anything else.

2. Seek faithfulness not opportunity

It’s especially easy and in many scenarios wise to be looking ahead to see where you are going. In life the opportunity to step into your dreams, or the opportunity to do something great will come. When it comes there is nothing that stings more than letting it pass you by. However I’ve found that there is much wisdom in bearing that sting and watching opportunity slowly drift off over the horizon.

Over the last decade I’ve been offered jobs 8 times my current annual salary. (which isn’t that big consider my current anual salary ) Positions with influence, events with famous people, and jobs with ability to give me everything I could want. I’ve been blessed over the years, and I’ve been blessed to politely decline over the years as well. Why? Because of that man named Jesus on that throne in Heaven. When I close my eyes I see that throne, and I think about the account I will have to give to Him about my life one day. When I weigh how certain opportunities would distract from my pursuit of His heart, the maintaining of my wife and kids, the stability of a tender heart when I’m older, if it’s a threat, it’s out.

When I was a teenager I learned this concept from my ever wise mother. I was having the typical just turned 18 and have no idea what I’m going to do with my life existential crisis. One night I broke down in tears stressed out by the expectations I felt others had on my life, the expectations I had on my life and the perceived pressure to have it all figured out that very moment. I’ll never forget she sat me down on the couch and made me look into her eyes. She said, “Son I don’t care if you are a missionary or a business man. If you end up doing nothing else with your life and the sum of your accomplishments is working at McDonald’s. If you are in love with Jesus with your whole heart, mind, soul, and strength- I will be the proudest mother a son could ever have.”

I’m sure many things will be said of my life, but may the theme and story of Zack Hensley be a man passionately pursuing the heart of Jesus and nothing else. It’s all that matters.

3. Be the little blue truck.

My daughter has this book about a little blue truck. It works hard everyday and always gets its work done.  He is intentional about stopping along the way to visit with all the animals around the farm and to help them out while getting his work done. Then a big “important” yellow truck comes plowing through the farm. He doesn’t have time to visit with the animals or help them with anything. Then one day the yellow truck plows through a mud puddle and gets his “big important wheels stuck”. He calls out to the animals and anyone who would hear to help him out of the puddle but “no one heard (or really cared)”. Then the little blue truck came along and tried to help him free, but he also got stuck. He called out for help and everyone came running to help him out of the mud. They pushed him and he pushed the big “important yellow truck”. The animals got him free and in turn the little blue truck gave them all a ride.

The moral? Often times I have been the “big important yellow truck” plowing through life, with no time to stop and visit or help anyone. My goal as I turn 30 is to be more like the little blue truck. To care just as much about building strong and lasting relationships with people as much as I care about the jobs that I have to do.

4. Cry often

There is nothing worse in this life then having a heart that is dull. A dull heart can’t love. It can’t empathize, serve well, or understand. A dull heart is the quickest way to a lifeless and loveless marriage. A dull heart turns well intentioned ambition into self serving promotion. A dull heart swings open the door to anxiety, depression, and bitterness. Worse of all a dull heart can’t love God.

Catching myself tearing up during worship, or when I tell my wife I love her is a suitable metric for the tenderness of my heart. If life seems hard, and my heart begins to feel dull there is a good chance that it’s been weeks since my eyes got a little misty. I don’t mean I need to find my self, head in hands, weeping on a regular basis. I just mean if my daughter sneaking across the room climbing onto my lap and saying “Dad,  I love you very much. you’re beautiful too!” doesn’t get my eye lids wet, something is wrong. If singing the old hymn “It is Well With My Soul” doesn’t get me teary by the time I get to the part “And Lord haste the day when my faith becomes sight” something is wrong. I pray that when I’m 60 have have a reputation for being a “cryer”.

5. Do things smaller

If I’ve learned anything it’s that you are never too busy. I mean it. Every time I think I’m too busy to do things like read a book, write a book, serve at a downtown soup kitchen, I look at my schedule realize in order to read a book I’m looking for 3 to 4 hours to sit and read. So instead of blocking out 4 hours to read I block out 30 minutes. If you focus, 30 minutes can be very productive.

I used to say I didn’t have the time to write a book, so I started watching entertainment less. Lo and behold I gained an hour each night. Instead of trying to find 2-3 hours at a time with friends I focus and have more meaningful conversations in an hour lunch then I ever did spending 3 hours at the movies. Instead of spending 2 hours a day e-mailing. I schedule 30 minute meetings, and spend 10-15 minutes before hand outlining the topic of conversation. That 30 minutes solves hours of e-mail back and forth for the next 2 weeks. This means being able to do the things important to you while increasing time in the two areas I care about most: Prayer and Family.

Doing things smaller and more focused means I get to be the man I hope I am when I’m 60: A lover of Jesus, A husband my wife thanks God for, and Father to my kids that makes the Lord smile.

The Fight For Hope: Reflecting On Loss One Year Later

An excerpt from chapter one of my book on the year anniversary of this story. God is good, therefore we never stop.

Tired but content I sat down at the dinner table with my ministry assistant, as “Ms Vicky” cooked us up some authentic New Orleans food. Ms. Vicky, as she liked to be called, was a wonderful southern belle. She and her husband were hosting us as I preached at a two day youth conference at her church Butte Louisiana just outside of New Orleans. Having traveled on quite a few ministry trips, I had yet to come in contact with someone as generous and accommodating as Ms. Vicky. We spent that night sharing stories about parenthood. Her kids were all grown up and moved out. I told her about my 2 kids; Natalie Sage who was the cutest 1 and a half-year-old you’d ever meet and my precious second who was still in the womb at that time. I told her about our hopes and dreams for that little one. How my wife Carrie and I had a vision of him or her being a confident, wise, yet gentle person. As we talked she unveiled the fruit of her culinary genius. She brought out a number of dishes, Shrimp Pasta Alfredo, southern cooked chili, and a “king cake” of Mardis Gras infamy. My assistant Dan and I slowly but effectively cleaned our plates, savoring every bite.

     With satisfied sighs and endless praise for our chef and host we headed up to our rooms. Generally I rarely sleep well on the road. However the combination Ms. Vicky’s home cooking, and an entire day of being in front of people preaching put me into an instant state of exhaustion. I texted Carrie the menu from dinner, that I loved her Natalie and that precious little one in her tummy. I told her that I couldn’t wait to see them tomorrow. I put my phone under my pillow just in case she needed to get a hold of me while I slept. My head hit the pillow and I was gone into the deepest sleep I’d have for the rest of that week.

     Maybe it’s different for you but when I’m in a deep sleep, sounds, smells, and feelings happening in the conscience world show up in my unconscious dream world. For instance I remember one very frustrating time years ago when I worked as a Concierge at a Phoenix hotel. I hadn’t slept in 2 days and had fallen into a deep sleep. I dreamn’t that I was a spy chasing an evil 7 fingered man in black gloves all around this old empty warehouse. I was about to catch him when he pulled the security alarm and vanished. The beeping of the security alarm was so loud a had to cover my ears as I chased after him. 10 to 15 minutes went by as I chased him around the known dream world trying to find a way to shut off the alarm he had pulled. Finally I woke up to find that I was late for work. The villain in my dream hadn’t pulled an alarm, but my alarm clock had been going off. Instead of it waking me from the unconscious world, my brain added its elements to the unconscious world. I rushed to work that day, and tried to get a laugh out of my boss concerning my tardiness. This same type of thing happened to me that night, only I didn’t chuckle at the result.

                I was dreaming that I was leading a group of sick people out of a ravine filled with bio toxins that was making them sick. As I led them out we kept encountering Earth quakes that sent many back into the canyon. Over and over I would run to the bottom, get the tumblers, and bring them back up to rejoin the group. At some point during this unconscious Sisyphean challenge I woke up to find my phone vibrating under my pillow.

                Looking at the clock without my glasses on I could barely see it was about 2am and I had a number of texts and missed calls from my wife. I read the texts first. “call me, I’m bleeding and think something bad might be happening with the baby, calling the doctor” next one “It won’t stop, called your mom she is taking me to the ER, your Dad is watching Natalie, I wish you were here or at least answered your phone!” last one “Please answer! I need you, this is so bad”. My body jumped out of bed as my stomach sank. “No!” I yelled, “Please don’t let this be what I think it is.”

Dialing so fast I dropped the phone two or three times before I could finish. My wife answered in tears. The bleeding from her uterus had increased. The doctor had just informed her that we, at that moment, were losing that precious little one in her tummy. Sobbing was all I could hear from my wife on the phone. She gave the phone over to my mom who was there with her and sobs were all she could hear as I hit the floor. I felt like someone had reached into my chest and ripped out my insides. The pain of losing this child, the pain of not being there to support the woman I vowed to always be there for during times like this, the pain of knowing I’d never get to see the face of the little one we just lost. My mom finished telling me that they would hold Carrie in the hospital until all the biological matter had passed out of her; our precious little one. They told me they’d call me back after the doctor fished talking to them. All I could do was put my head into my pillow sobbing, yelling and pleading with God for mercy not to take this one from us.

Once I had gathered myself a bit, the next call I made was to the airlines. I had to get back to Kansas City. I had to hold my wife and support her. I had to do something besides cry.

After 4 hours of negotiating, there was no way to change my flight. So I got up and got ready for the day. I still had to preach that morning at the local church. Ironically the subject I had already prepared was I Peter 1:3 on Hope. Rising to the occasion was out the window for me as I tearfully preached probably one of the most scattered sermons of my life. I felt like I was dreaming, and was waiting for Dan to shake me awake and tell me I was late for service. Since I seemed very awake, all I could focus on was getting back to my wife. After a long journey through layovers and delays that moment finally came. Instantly we fell into each other’s arms and wept together.

We talked about the dreams we had for that little one. Carrie shared how she felt God take our baby back to be with Him, and how she could feel His presence even in the middle of the pain of it all. We stayed up most of the night praying, talking and crying until we passed out from exhaustion.

Later the next day I was visiting with a friend who was checking in on how we were doing. I told him this was one of the most painful-sorrowful things I had ever experienced, but that both Carrie and I had this surprising peace or impossible joy on the inside despite the pain. There was a fight on the inside to resist the temptation of depression, or despair. Surprisingly, there was this solace in knowing who we were in the eyes of God and knowing where we are going ultimately that gave us the courage to fight for hope.

“Why so downcast O my soul? Why are you in turmoil within me? Put your Hope in God; for I shall again praise Him. Ps 42:5 (ESV)

            Hope. Often a sentiment to help us feel better during times of uncertainty is quite more than sentiment. The reality of Jesus, what He accomplished on the cross, in the resurrection, and in light of His soon coming, hope is a power greater than sentiment. Hope starts in the truth of knowing who we are in the eyes of our creator.

This knowledge is like a pilot light in our heart. Even when all fuel to keep going is gone, the understanding of who we are and where we are going is a flame that never dies. Once that flame is lit, no storm in life can blow it out and the slightest glimmer of hope is ignited into a roaring fire. Yet knowing who we are and where we are going because of Him who ordained it in creation and sealed it at the cross is not a subjective journey. We must reach outside of our short-sighted vision of ourselves to touch the vision of the one who created us. We are not the subjects of creation, but the objects of our creator and subjected to Him. This is good news because He is good.

                 Knowing is one thing, fighting through discouragement is another. We need an intentional act of our will to grasp the future we know God has ordained for us. Like the psalmist says when in turmoil, when we are downcast, we look to our soul and command it to action: “Hope in God!”

Today, exactly one year later, I remember our loss. But it’s not the pain and reliving the loss that I remember. It’s that in the pain of mourning and injustice the hand of God never left. My hope was not shaken because of pain, it was given courage to persevere because of the truth that pain has an appointed and eternal end.

Even so, come Lord Jesus.

Things Going into 30: Leave The Volume on Ten, Bob Your Head and Don’t Stop.

10 days until I turn 30 (February 18th).The last month I’ve been reflecting on the last 30 years and gearing up for the next 30. Reflecting on the past 3 decades I have learned a couple of lessons that I pray to not re-learn going forward. Over the next couple of days I will have a sereis of lessons that I have learned and or am learning that I hope to share for the soul purpose of having them published so I never forget. So this is Things going into 30 part 2.

Lesson 2: Leave The Volume on Ten, Bob Your Head and Don’t Stop.

My whole life I’ve loved rap music. In 7th grade I won breakdancing contests. When
walking the 2 and a half miles home from school I’d often practice freestyling. “Walking home from school these suckas with cars think I’m a fool, but it’s ok because I’m no tool, if they really wanna hate, they’d better step up and duel.” Stuff like that over and over, I’d practice a wide variety of subjects from “I wish I had a car to take me real far” to “Jesus blood never fails me, its crimson flood cleans me, frees me, and forever feeds and satisfies my soul so if you want to find me on my knees I’ll be”. I listened to but could never really get into Tupac, Bones Thugs, Nas, DMX etc. Every time I did I felt my heart dry up. So I stuck with Christian rap, T-Bone, Cross Movements, Grits, The Ambassador etc. Most people gave me a hard time for listening to cheesy Christian rap. So I would never admit to it, or let anyone catch me listening to them. I would force myself to know just enough about Tupac, Jay-Z and the rest of the motley collection of up and coming rappers of the nineties. I wanted to be able to act like they were my favorite at school, when at home I was head bobb’n to T-Bone’s “Street Preacha”.

If I’ve learned anything over the years it’s that being a chameleon to what people think you should be or want you to be is the worst kind of bondage. Too often my heart wanted to radically pursue God. I wanted to turn off movies and TV, tune out anything not of God and seek after Him with my whole heart. Yet too often I would give up that dream because the people around me felt like that was religious or that it in some way alienated them. So I would cave. I would dial down. I would pursue my faith to the measure of intensity those around me did. In essence I would sell out, and I hated it.

Looking around me now, many of my peers are dialing down. Prayer goes from hours a day, to a few hours a week, to a few minutes a day, to worship on Sunday and try to blend in with the culture the rest of the week. I don’t judge them for this. I love them and hope to stay in their lives. But as for me, I want something more. As I approach the next 30 years I want to be going harder after God when I’m 60. I want to be sold out and unashamed about my desire to live a life of prayer and fasting. I want to be water to a thirsty world ignorant of the gospel. I want to cultivate a flame on the inside that keeps me next to the relevant flame of God’s heart that I may be useful to my friend Jesus in minstring the gospel the next 30 years. I want to live my life in such a way that He receives the greatest amount of glory from my days and nights. For no other reason except that Jesus is worthy. I want their to be oil in my lamp when He comes.

Since high school Christian rap has come a long way. Cross Movements are still going strong, and in 2005 the greatest thing to happen to Christian music happened. Reach Records presented a fiery group of gospel preaching rappers called the 116 clique. Lecrae, Tedashii, Trip Lee, Sho Baraka, D.A. T.R.U.T.H., and others were not only some of the sickest rappers I’d ever heard, their content caused my heart to worship and eyes to cry with love for Jesus. Today I’m no longer a teenager. I’m a Father of two, married, and a home owner. I wear collar shirts, sport coats, and some would call me ethnically challenged to love rap music the way I do, but I’ve learned from the years past. Who cares what people think. Turn that junk up to ten and let your head bob long into your 80′s.

Your money your singleness marriage talent and time 
They were loaned to you to show the world that Christ is Divine 
That’s why it’s Christ in my rhymes 
That’s why it’s Christ all the time
See my whole world is built around him He’s the life in my lines 
I refused to waste my life 
He’s too true to chase that ice 
Here’s my gifts and time cause I’m constantly trying to be used to praise the Christ 
If he’s truly raised to life
Then this news should change your life 
And by his grace you can put your faith in place that rules your days and nights.

-Lecrae Song: “I Don’t Wanna Waste My Life”

Things Going Into 30

11 days until I turn 30 (February 18th).The last month I’ve been reflecting on the last 30 years and gearing up for the next 30. Reflecting on the past 3 decades I have learned a couple of lessons that I pray to not re-learn going forward. Over the next couple of days I will have a sereis of lessons that I have learned and or am learning that I hope to share for the soul purpose of having them published so I never forget. So this is Things going into 30 part 1.

Lesson 1: Just Jump

One of my best friends growing up, Chris, is a smart, darring, humble, shrewd human being. Yet I had never seen such a confident terrestrial male reduced to such a hesitant, afraid mush-ball of worry as when we went cliff diving in high school. Most of us hiked up the cliffs, dove off, hiked up, dove off etc. I’ll never forget how the face of the most confident guy I had ever met filled with such daunting bafflement as he stood at the top of the cliff and starred at the water. Four hours later after having had his fill of our taunts and friendly jabs at is lack courage he conceded and jumped. He emerged from the water having regained his confidence, “That wasn’t that bad.”

I could honestly sum up much of the last 30 years using the picture of Chris waiting to jump of the cliff. That’s not to say I didn’t jump often in life, but the emotional drama and anxiety that ensued in my heart and mind through out most of my teens and twenties was wasted energy. It was me thinking I knew how my story should be told, and when things didn’t look like the version in my head I freaked. The thing is, 100% of the time each journey, each story ended how I wanted it to. However just not in the way I thought it would. God’s promises to us are absolute. I learned that saying that was one thing, believing it was another. Take marriage for example. I spent the better part of my twenties (18-24) emoting about how I was probably never going to get married. I got so terrified that I was unloveable that in the end I got terrified of love it self. Yes, at times I have been known to have the emotional stability of a 16 year old teenage girl hoping a senior notices her and takes her to prom, but I digress.

When the women of my dreams came along, I spent the majority of our relationship staving off panic attacks because everything was going TOO well. In the end I starred at that water down below the cliff, watched it shimmer in the sunshine, took a deep breath and made the wisest decision of my life to date: I forced myself over the edge.

I emerged with a smile.

The first lesson I have learned is to jump every time I feel that terrifying irrational fear. I’m not talking about the pit in your stomach when you know something might be wrong, that’s called discernment and different from fear. I’m talking about the place where logic and God say one thing but the torrent of fear and emotion say another. When fear clouds your vision and keeps you from walking in your destiny. You have to stare that cloud in the face, and no matter how tight the grip of fear chokes, you have to use any and every last bit of energy possible and force yourself to take that leap. You can’t run from that fear, or let it overtake you. You have to take authority Jesus gave us at the cross, renounce it’s hold on you and press forward whether or not it has subsided. It’s feels like trudging through quicksand, but in the end you will conquer that fear, and emerge with a smile.

You just have to jump.

 

Church In UK Banned From Saying “God Can Heal”

Worrying about Christian rights isn’t the reason I’m posting this. Truth is Jesus told us where this is going, “The world will hate you because of me”. I post stories like this as evidence to illustrate the hour of history we live in. Christians in many places have enjoyed the comfort of a culture that accommodates our faith. However the times are changing. The time is coming where our culture will no longer accommodate our faith. Apart from a spiritual revolution in the near future, I think we need to be sober about the changing times.  Sober not so we can give up and try to save ourselves. But sober so we can know how to pray, and have boldness to preach the gospel even more knowing what we are up against.

The story below is a small example, but the frequency of them is growing every day. Let’s fight the good fight of faith.

Bath Christian group’s ‘God can heal’ adverts banned

The Advertising Standards Authority (ASA) said it had concluded that the adverts by Healing on the Streets (HOTS) – Bath, were misleading…. The ASA said the leaflet read: “Need Healing? God can heal today! Do you suffer from Back Pain, Arthritis, MS, Addiction … Ulcers, Depression, Allergies, Fibromyalgia, Asthma, Paralysis, Crippling Disease, Phobias, Sleeping disorders or any other sickness?

Planned Parenthood Video: Superhero For Choice

There really isn’t much else to say about Planned Parenthood after watching this video. Their agenda for abortion is not hidden. This video explains why Koman would have defunded them. This was a REAL Planned Parenthood video from 2005. I’ve done some digging to check out it’s authenticity and can’t find anything saying it’s not legit. Honestly I wish it were not for real. If anyone finds out that this is a hoax then post the proof in the comments. Otherwise, God have MERCY.

Success Is A Homewrecker

“The crucible for silver and the furnace for gold, but man is tested by the praise he receives.” -Proverbs 27:21

Over the years I have found the greatest struggle as a leader and in ministry is success. I mean it. Success is most often the bain of one’s leadership.  In case  you think I’m being contrarian, I’ll break it down.

Success in ministry is a seductive siren convincing you to stop in and rest for awhile. It distracts you from what you are doing with endless options and opportunities. It tricks you into thinking you are further along than you really are. It dulls the senses and makes one lazy. Success instills fear. Once you have it you are terrified to lose it and once you lose it you are terrified you’ll never find it again. You’ll spend all your time and energy trying to find that blasted siren once she disappears.That’s not to say that when success comes knocking you don’t greet her with respect, it’s just that you are married and success is a giant distraction that needs to be shown the door quick before you catch your self in infidelity.

Success leads to praise, praise leads to legacy, and legacy is something you build as a tabernacle to the brilliance of your life. That’s just it. As a minister it was never about you. The marriage I spoke of earlier represents the one you are supposed to praise. The one you are supposed to build a tabernacle to. The one who is responsible for any success you receive. Success tricks you into the thinking you are the hero of the story. That the life long race of ministry is completed, or that you have somehow “arrived”.

In ministry there are only two clear signs that the task is over. The first is death, or what Paul affectionately describes to the Thessalonians “falling asleep”. This sign is really easy to recognize.  For instance if you are currently starring at your computer screen, smart phone, and or electronic reading device it’s safe to assume that you are very much alive; congratulations the race is not over. The second sure fire sign is if the sky has recently split  open and if the physical geographic location of Heaven has changed from somewhere invisible to somewhere visible on the Earth. In other words if God has not yet made is physical dwelling on the Earth and Satan has not been locked in a pit, well it’s also safe to say the the race of ministry continues.

Don’t get me wrong, success has it’s benefits. It assures us that we are moving in the right direction, and encourages us along the way. But ministry is about surrender. It’s about weakness. It’s not about having the right answers but being faithful to lead those you are called to Him who does. It’s about being faithful to remain on our knees forever admitting that success is impossible apart from divine assistance. The greatest threat of success is its ability to take us from the place of prayer. The place where we gain the humility and authority to lead effectively. It’s His glory on the line, not our own. We love those we serve because He does and our affections belong to Him.

I pray so that success never wins it’s seduction on me. May we labor until we see His face.

“The mystery of ministry is that we have been chosen to make our own limited and very conditional love the gateway for the unlimited and unconditional love of God.” -Henri Nouwen

The Elephant Room Aftermath

I’m a big fan of the Gospel Coalition. I think what they are doing for the church in America

is invaluable. When I heard that they were going to get main leaders, controversial ones and hammer things out, I thought it was a great idea. I’ve always wanted someone to draw back the curtain on certain leaders and give them an actual chance to defend their specific stance on theology. I would love to ask Joel Osteen for instance, about his prosperity gospel message and actually hear the heart behind the words. However in wanting to do so I don’t think you can lose sight of the word that intrigues you to that person in the first place “Controversial”. If you bring a controversial leader onto your stage and ask him controversial questions, well 1+1= I think you catch my drift. The Elephant room experiment worked in that we got to hear T.D. Jake’s side on his view of modelism or as he now calls it trinitarianism. But it backfired in that by the end of it one of the 2 hosts, James MacDonald, resigned from the Gospel Coalition because of the backlash. The aftermath was a bit tumultuous. It didn’t inspire a theological conversation to better help people understand various streams. Instead it seemed to polarize each side.

There is a Proverb here to keep in mind: Proverbs 26:17 “Don’t take a Rabid dog by the ears…”

Here is the official story from the Gospel Coalition:

The Elephant Room: What Really Happened, and How Things Could HaveBeen Different

If you’re a critic of the Gospel Coalition’s response—or seeming lack of response—to the Elephant Room controversy, or if you’re a critic of the Elephant Room and its repercussions, I hope you’ll slow down and read the whole thing. I am under no illusions that it will answer all the questions or satisfy everyone—I’m sure it won’t—but perhaps it will clarify at least a few things.