Except that Jesus ...

There's nothing extraordinary about a rainy day in Georgia. Or about looking at even more houses. Except that Jesus is in all of it.

In Matthew 4:18-22, I'm re-introduced to several of Jesus' earliest followers, all of whom were fishermen. They were born in a fishing village and taught to fish by their fathers as was the custom of their time. There was nothing extraordinary about Simon and Andrew or James and John ... not their names, not their hometowns, not their livelihoods. Except that Jesus handpicked them to follow Him and they did.

Except that Jesus ... I pray that as I get hung up with details of house hunting and moving and then trying to balance all of this with finishing well at the seminary, I will remember that, if not for Jesus in the center of it all, it would be nothing extraordinary. As a matter of fact, it might feel like unnecessary (and overwhelming) stress in my already-stressed life.

I was also distracted by the report in verse 22 that when Jesus called James and John to be His disciples, "immediately they left the boat and their father and followed Him." Again, I am struck at the huge discord this must have struck in this family ... even if they were devout Jews ... even if they were looking out for the Messiah. This father surely had plans for the family business that included his sons taking over in a few short years. Except that Jesus invited them into an extraordinary mission!

Oh, that my day -- my life -- would be open to the "except that Jesus" moments and callings!

More than a dot-dot-dot

Thursday morning my devotion had me reading Matthew 1:1-17. When I saw the scripture reference, my spirit immediately whined as I thought, "Good grief! Really, Beth, the genealogy section?" [Beth = Beth Moore whose Portraits of Devotion I have been going through off and on this year.]

The Spirit quickly rescued my mind and prompted me to pray what I should always pray (but, true confession, don't) before jumping into scripture: "What do you want me to see in this scripture that can help me know You and/or myself better today?" And then I started reading ... in the Holman Christian Standard version. So instead of a bunch of "begats," I got the verb "fathered."

And as I read through an awful lot of fathering names, I was struck by how many names I did not recognize from other stories in scripture. Sure, the big names are there: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Boaz, David, Solomon, and even some of the bad guys. But who in the world are Ram, Nahshon, Shealtiel, Azor, well, you get the idea!

And, once again, perhaps because I'm in the middle of a transition that will take me from a place of responsibility to a place that hasn't been defined yet, I resonate with the unknowns. Thank you, Matthew, for not skipping over their names with dot-dot-dots.

Beth's emphasis on this text was a little different. She wrote, "To me, Christ's flawed family history serves as a continual reminder of the grace of God in my life." She added, "God chose David. On the surface, it made no sense. But God doesn't work on sense; He works on grace. God called you, and God called me. He knew what He was doing."

Flawed and unknown. A good description of me. Forgiven and listed in the Lamb's book of life. An even better description. Thankful and humbled that I am more than a dot-dot-dot. But only because my heavenly Father gave me His name, stamped me with His purpose, and directs me as I lean on Him and not my own understanding (Prov. 3:5-6).

I'm Going to Lesotho

I'm going to Lesotho. There's a lot about it that doesn't make sense. For example, the trip falls between the end of my job at NOBTS and our move to Dunwoody. I should be using that time to pack and unpack, say goodbye and say hello, and basically transition.

When the trip was first announced, the move was not on the table. So moving forward made sense. I had talked and prayed about going to Africa for several years (Ghana? Nigeria? Botswana?). When Liz & JB moved to Lesotho, they were emphatic I should go visit. When Allison and Brett moved there, my heart tugged even more. Then the church scheduled this trip, and I knew I was in, trusting the Lord to shut down my ability to go on the trip if I shouldn't. So far he hasn't!

Tonight I went to the first planning meeting and I am really excited. Even a 17-hour plane trip is not squelching my desire to go (but, yes, I am very concerned about this)! The team consists of Andrew Crosby, Bob Moore, Holly Dalferes, Virginia Johnson, Jordan Stewart, and me. What does God have in store for all of us? Stay tuned!

Wedding day for Chris and Vanessa

Today's happenings were scheduled around the Chris Shaffer-and-Vanessa Bolden wedding at 2 p.m. at Martin Chapel. After knowing Chris first as a student and then as a co-worker, this was certainly an event I wanted to attend.

It was a very sweet service, officiated by Dr. Mike Edens and Dr. Harold Mosley, both of whom are Chris' personal friends and co-ministers ... and thus felt comfortable adding little 'funnies' during their respective parts.

Vanessa and Chris spent most of the service looking at each other as though neither could believe it was finally happening. But it did happen and now this precious couple is married.

I don't know their whole love story (see https://www.theknot.com/us/vanessa-bolden-and-chris-shaffer-oct-2015#our-story if you're interested). But I do know that I met Vanessa via her employment application last fall and was excited to invite her to work in the Dean of Students office as Student Life assistant. Chris was apparently excited about it as well because, shortly after the start of school, he asked her out to spend time together. And the rest is history!

A deeper kind of tired

I'm tired.

It's the first time in a while I have felt the kind of tired that goes deeper than the physical. Sure, I could use more sleep at night. And, yes, I did sleep through the alarm today so I missed my daily dose of endorphins from my shuffle around campus.

This tired is emotional, social, and perhaps a bit spiritual.

Today Christi and I drove to LCIW (Louisiana Correctional Institute for Women) for the seminary program's first chapel service. In addition to this special distinction, it was also set apart as a memorial service for John.

I didn't anticipate what this would drain out of me and so, to be honest, I was not prepared. I enjoyed seeing the students in the seminary program that I haven't seen since I taught last summer but much of the service (like the singing of Great is Thy Faithfulness and It Is Well with My Soul) seemed to bounce off my brain. The scripture readings, however, touched an aching spot in my heart and, as I watched the video of Trey's part of his dad's memorial service, I began to soften. By the time Christi stood to share some lessons from these past eight weeks, I was melting.

She is so strong. Or perhaps I should say more truthfully, God is so strong in her weakness. She spoke of the purpose in John's life, the pain in his life, the purpose in the pain, and the pain in the purpose. And she asked the ladies to continue to pray for her and her kids. She was so raw and real and there's something about that ... it's just so draining.

It's the end of the day. I'm tired. But a good night's sleep and a renewed commitment to getting in the 'war room' before the fight will make a difference going into tomorrow. Lord, go before me into tomorrow.

A thought I want to remember: At lunch, Kristi M. recounted a friend's effort to prop her up during the difficult time after her husband's affair. This friend had lost a child in the months preceding this and she told Kristi, "There is strength in the struggle."

I know this but I did not claim it today. Tomorrow is a different day.

Saturday morning report: I got up at 5 and took Allen to the airport. I thought I might stay up and be productive but when Allen encouraged me to go back to bed, I gave it a shot. Though I woke up briefly a couple of times, I ended up staying in back until almost 9. YES, I needed that sleep!

Small blessings fill in the small holes

We had a small blessing tonight. A sweet young mom from our church offered to bring supper to Christi and me. We felt a little embarrassed to continue to accept the offer of food but, then again, a girl's got to eat, right? Perhaps the reason we felt embarrassed had less to do with the time it's been since John's passing and more to do with the fact that Betsy's brought supper twice before!

It started with a "you'll love my enchiladas!" and grew to "I make a good pot roast." Yes, yes, and more yes! Betsy is really a good cook, likes to share her favorite recipes, and well, we want to enjoy that kind of personal growth. :)

We accepted her offer to bring food for a third time with the caveat that she and baby Abigail had to stay for dinner. What a delightful distraction this very sweet baby was (except for when she seemed inconsolable because Noel started barking up a storm)! At six months old, she readily laid on her stomach on a towel spread out on the living room floor. It seemed a little surreal since I'm used to babies who are a little needy-er than that but, then again, it was really relaxing!

As we were wrapping up the evening, Betsy shared that her father has been diagnosed with dementia. Wow! That was a bombshell to me but Christi said he had already told her. Lloyd Killen greets me at the side door most Sundays I am in town. I've noticed that he hasn't been at the door as much lately but didn't think anything about it since I've been traveling so much.

As Betsy talked about her father, she was so respectful of his journey thus far and expressed her desire to allow him to continue to do as much with Abigail as he can. She is concerned about his inevitable deterioration but thinks that is on down the road. And several times she said, "He is still my dad." This comment reminded me of the premise of the movie "Still Alice." She may be losing her touch with reality but she's still Alice.

Lloyd Killen is still Lloyd. And he, like Betsy, is a small blessing filling in the small holes of our lives.

Get 'er done!

On most days, as Allen and I wrap up the day, he asks me either how my day went or what I did that day at work. Since the make-up of my days is rarely the same and, a lot of times, they are a mishmash of unpredictability, it's hard to recount how I spend my hours in a way that would seem productive, especially to him.

However, today, my response could have been build around this flyer:

I started working on the flyer early because I knew I was behind the curve. I need more vendors and I need to attract spenders, so publicity has got to get rolling. So, as is the case typically in my 'world,' I created the flyer, printed the flyer, and then posted it around campus. When I got back to the office, I created a Facebook event and invited lots and lots of local peeps to the fun. I've gotten some good feedback already (except for the one person who is disappointed it is called a 'holiday' market). I've got about three weeks to spread the word far and wide. Here's hoping I get lots of help spreading the word from lots of other folks!

Other things that happened today:

• Sellers countered with a number that is higher than the neighborhood home value averages/comps can support (in my opinion), so we hold steady for now.
• Good discussion at Brown Bag as we reviewed Red Sea Rule #3: Acknowledge the enemy but keep your eyes on the Lord.
• Holly and Vanessa came up with a very creative plan for decorating the office window to advertise for the Holiday Market which involved me going by The Educator after work. Just walking in that place makes me want to create a bulletin board design!
• Heartbeat ladies (plus Christi and Maria) met up at the Palace Theater in Clearview Mall to see The Intern (Robert de Niro and Anne Hathaway). Good stuff.
• Allen flew to Dallas for the Texas Youth Conclave and, after teaching two sessions this afternoon, went back to his room and spent the evening with fever and throwing up. :(

Tips for the Facing the Battle

Most times when I visit Dunwoody, I try to attend both worship services. It gives me a chance to visit with a wider cross section of the church body and I get to hear Allen preach twice. Today's sermon focusing on the last half of Ephesians 6 was particularly applicable. (If you want to hear it for yourself, check out http://dbc.org/watchonline; it'll be uploaded in the next day or two.)

The main focus of this scripture passage is putting on the armor of God, or so it seems. But Allen pointed out a couple of things that I've missed in past readings. For starters, while the individual pieces of the armor seem to be important and purposeful, if the heart of the warrior is not in the battle, then none of the armor matters. Thus, to engage the heart of the warrior, Paul exhorted us, "Be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power."

Allen also stressed the pressing need to acknowledge that we are indeed in a battle. In Ephesians 6:12, Paul pulls no punches in this laundry list of what our "struggle" is against. But don't forget what he said back in chapter 1:19-21, particularly as it relates to the power of Christ:

"That power is the same as the mighty strength he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every name that is invoked, not only in the present age but also in the one to come."

In Robert J. Morgan's The Red Sea Rules, we are told to "acknowledge the enemy but keep our eyes on the Lord." This came to mind this morning when two of the songs we sang in worship repeated similar words:

"We will keep our eyes on You so we can set our hearts on You." (A Mighty Fortress, Nockels)

"I lift my eyes up; my help comes from the Lord." (Always, Stanfill)

The significance of where we place our eyes (our attention, our focus, our trust) may be one of the most important keys to how prepared we are to fight our battles. If we allow ourselves to focus elsewhere and get distracted and/or discouraged, we've given the enemy a foothold. Robert Morgan says, “Satan pursues you with the intensity of Pharoah.  He may use your friends, discouraging responses from your family, curse you with envy, tempt you where you are weakest, etc.”

Last night we put a bid on a house. Both of us are excited about much that this house has to offer us as we move our lives to this new community. The offer is a bit low but we know the norm is for the sellers to counter and then for us to decide what to do next. However, when we got to church in the morning, we were each approached separately by someone who we allowed to speak doubt over our choice because she wanted us to consider a house in another location.

Needless to say, I spent too much time frustrated, second-guessing our decision to make an offer on the house, even though we had prayed for wisdom and direction. It's not that we don't want people to make suggestions, especially about houses not yet on the market. But I just wanted some affirmation that the decision we made was a good one.

As we sang the songs mentioned above, I realized I had taken my eyes off of the Lord and let them wander to people's opinions and advice at a time when I really needed to keep my eyes on the Lord. We still don't know about the house (the sellers have until tomorrow evening to counter our offer) but I do know that I better keep my battle armor ready ... I don't get to chose my battles in this war; they come after me at my weakest points.

Unexpected, Unstructured Day

So that's what it like ... an unstructured day where you sleep a little later, move a little slower, and watch all the college football your husband's heart desires! Ahhhhhhhhhh!

For a little bit too long, our schedule has been more defined by commitments than spontaneity or rest. Now, before it sounds like I'm complaining, I need to point out that, for the most part, these are commitments we have chosen ... NOBTS events and classes, Dunwoody interim, family trip, and so on. But every now and then, it's nice to have a day where the alarm isn't your wake-up jolt and the day isn't dictated by appointments and deadlines.

Today wasn't supposed to be an unstructured day. A month or so ago, Allen was invited to join DBC friends at the LSU-SC game to be played in Columbia. It's been a while since we've seen an LSU game in person AND I've never been to one on the road. I was working up a bit of excitement over the prospect of getting to know new friends a little better while seeing my Tigers play.

Fast forward to last weekend, when news of the devastating floods in SC started hitting the news. When Allen called from Atlanta to talk about plans, I asked, "Is anyone concerned about how the flooding might affect the game?" His weekend had been tied up with a young couple's wedding details and he had missed the extent of the disaster. Next thing we knew the location of the game was up in the air and, then, came the change of venue.

Really? The game was moved to Baton Rouge? What irony! Of course, it was the right thing to do; it just didn't make sense why THIS game had to come on the weekend after the totally unexpected "thousand-year" flooding. In the big picture, not getting to go to a football game is small, small stuff compared to what South Carolinians are dealing with. Believe me, I can empathize.

And, so, because of this change of plans, we gained a totally unexpected, unstructured day. And on this totally unexpected, unstructured day, we put a bid on a house. Maybe we should schedule in these kinds of days more often.

Where is the 'perfect' home?

I'm having a crisis of faith.

Maybe that's an overstatement but I am on a mad-hunt for a house in Dunwoody and, so far, the perfect home alludes me. The reason I call it a 'crisis of faith' is because I have prayed specifically for a home that "feels" right ... an address that "sounds" right ... a neighborhood that "looks" right. I've prayed for a home with a price that reflects godly stewardship and a floor plan that allows for the flow of fellowship.

After checking out fifteen addresses today (yes, 15!), I eliminated 11 and wondered about the other four ... but, of those 4, two are in the wrong zip code, one came up short related to storage, and the other needs a significant face lift out front! Is there a perfect house for us OR is what we bring to the table what makes it perfect?

Lord, I'm going to bed now. I'm tired but praying for a spirit of contentment, a heart of wisdom, and a mind of clarity. Tomorrow is a new day ... not much time (or desire) to hunt houses again so soon ... but still a new day brings with it the promise of new possibilities. I commit this process to you ... again.

"What are we going to do?"

"What are we going to do? What are we going to do?"

These words poured out of the heart of a sweet, young 39-year-old whose mother died of an apparent heart attack in her sleep last night. This mother was the caregiver for her chronically-ill husband who got out of the hospital the day before ("He was supposed to go first," she said, "That's what we prepared for."). This mother also helped this young mom with her childcare: picking up, dropping off, and filling in in between. Not to mention that this mother was the one who handled Thanksgiving dinner for 30 people most years.

"What are we going to do?"

The agony was so raw, her heart so broken. Her husband stayed nearby, wrangling their 8-year-old and 2-year-old kids, unsure of how to comfort, wanting to protect. The kids, obviously comfortable at their grandparents' home, bounced from activity to activity, looking for attention and distraction.

I wanted to tell her it would be okay. That one day it would hurt less. That truly the pieces will come together. That she will find the answers she's looking for. But I couldn't tell her all that tonight. It wouldn't make sense and would sound like empty promises. Really, these are things she needs to discover for herself ... and I believe she will. One day.

Lord, I pray for Alicia tonight, that she would be able to rest ... that the worries coming at her 90-to-nothing would be calmed and she would begin to remember that you are in control and that you have for her "a future and a hope." I pray that you would surround her with people speaking Your truth into her heart and mind and, if it is mostly Allen and me, that we would know when to be present. Oh, Lord, that she would not be overcome with despair but that she would answer despair with your promises ... that we don't grieve as those who have no hope ... that you are her strength and comfort and peace ... that you hold tomorrow ... that weeping may last for a night but joy comes in the morning. Oh, that Your word would be real and right and true to her in her grief and that she would cling to YOU! Thank you for the friends that dropped everything and drove over to stay with her and her family for a few days. Thank you for her mom's church family that has already stepped in and stepped up. Thank you for being the answer to her hardest questions, including "What are we going to do?"

A little obsession goes a long way

These days I'm living project to project ... checking stuff off the list and hoping something doesn't fall through the cracks.

A couple of weeks ago, I realized we needed to set a date for our annual Breast Cancer Awareness promotion that focuses on raising funds for the Kim Wilson Missions Scholarship Fund. Kim was an NOBTS grad who was diagnosed with breast cancer while serving with the IMB in Asia. She died in 2008. Vanee Daure, a friend and co-worker of Kim's (and me!), started the fund a while back and we're slowly trying to do our part to bring awareness to the disease and build up the 'pot'!

The date we set is tomorrow (October 8) which meant that today was filled with pulling together all of the possibilities and probabilities into realities. We enlisted Holly to design our "In Memory Of" and "In Honor Of" graffiti sheets. Last year we came up with the idea to ask people to share with us names of the women they know who have dealt with the disease. With the names came stories and with the stories came the reminder that this disease is far-reaching into many families and throughout countless friend circles.

We also painted pumpkins. It's become a tradition to include a pink pumpkin (this year, two!) for a suggested donation of $15-$20. Today I got help from one of my assistants Heather and her friend Davi. Davi is from Taiwan and had never done anything like this. It was SO fun to watch her creativity come alive. We also painted wooden anchors (think "HOPE"!) to hang on the wire tree.

Vanee worked hard this morning counting coffee beans. Lots and lots and lots of coffee beans. Courtney thought it would be fun to have a 'guessing' jar so we chose coffee beans, filled the jar, and now will hope folks are willing to give a donation to make a guess. Winner gets a $10 Cafe New Orleans gift certificate. Fun times.

All of this made for a hectic, busy, productive sort-of day. And a very tired, still-have-to-pack-for-Atlanta-trip woman. So I'm off to bed, thankful for partners in pink-collar crimes!

Begging God a little deeper

So much for the 31-day challenge. Yesterday came and went and I didn't write.

But I did finally go see War Room. What a STRONG reminder that I better stop trying to figure out all the ills of the world around me and start focusing more on the One who is best equipped to fight the battles raging around us! I loved watching Priscilla Shirer stretch herself as an actress and maybe got a little TOO tickled at Beth Moore's cameo appearances as Mandy, a co-worker at the real estate company!

I found myself today begging God a little deeper for the souls of a couple of people I love who aren't walking with Him. I pleaded for a particular situation to be redeemed and for the inevitable pain to be quick and, instead of bringing anger and resentment, that it would result in healing and rest. I asked for discernment, contentment, and productivity in my tasks for the day AND for this evening. I did not -- and DO NOT -- want to walk in my own understanding ... instead, I desire to be a Proverbs 3 Woman and trust the Lord with all my heart ... in all my ways, acknowledge Him so he can direct my paths (v. 5-6).

And I prayed for my husband. In the words of Mrs. Clara, "My job is not the heavy lifting. That is His job." So I asked the Lord to do for Allen what only God can do!

Because John 10:10 is one of my life verses, I perked up when the two main women in the movie talked about it several times. "The thief comes to steal, kill, and destroy, but I have come that you might have life -- life to the fullest" (Jesus). Follow this verse up with James 4:7 "Submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you."

I can't have life to the fullest with the enemy stealing, killing, and destroying! I'm thankful for the Kendrick brothers writing and producing this movie to give me a vivid visual of the power of submissive, confessional prayer.

I'm glad the Saints won!

I try hard not to be crazy and fanatical when it comes to sports. I want to enjoy the games without stressing out over wins and losses. I like wearing purple and gold or black and gold to show support but not wearing a grumpy face the day after a game just because we came up with less points. But, like I said, I try. I don't always succeed.

Tonight, I watched the Saints and Cowboys go back and forth with the lead ... miss a game-winning field goal ... and finally grab the win in overtime with a big Brees-to-Spiller TD pass and run. Yep, it felt better to watch that touchdown than it did to watch that missed field goal. I guess I still have a lot of 'trying' to do and, apparently, with a season like this, I'll have a lot more tries!

This is not the only area of my life that needs improvement. With much life change ahead, I need to get 'unstuck' ... there's too much life to be lived (and boxes to be packed) to keep running around in the same circles. I'm praying for the week ahead ...

• to make a plan (maybe an actual list) of what closets and drawers and attics I will go through and deadlines for when I'll go through them.
• to create a promo piece for the upcoming Holiday Market to recruit more vendors and start engaging interested buyers.
• to prepare for my house-hunting day on Friday ... God knows our needs; we know our wants; that He would show us the house He wants us to live in for His glory. 
• to get to bed earlier each night so I can get up fresher each morning.

I'm glad the Saints won. True dat! But I'll be even more glad if, at the end of this week, I can look back and know that I have moved closer to being the person God has created me to be rather than settling for 'stuck.'

A life observed

Is it possible to be greatly influenced by someone even if you don't spend great quantities of time with her? I'll answer my own question: YES!

Joyce Harrington, mom of Mitzi and Rhonda, has been influencing my life for the past 22 years. Ms. Joyce, as I have fondly called her from Day 1 (hoping that was okay when I could have just asked!), loves the Lord, loves her daughters, and loves living missionally. While I doubt she would call her lifestyle one to be emulated (she's too humble for that), she has left a trail of faithfulness that I am following closely.

Mostly, I'm looking for clues... you know, those tips or subtle guides that point you in the right direction. Joyce has followed the Lord for longer than I have been alive. She has experienced the highest highs as well as the lowest lows of public ministry. Yet, she continues to follow ... no, not just follow ... she continues to cling to God and to expect Him to fulfill the promises He has drawn her to throughout His Word.

While I've never heard her say this, I'm guessing that one reason she clings to God and expects Him to live up to His promises now is that she has seen Him do it before. He has walked her through marital, ministerial, and physical challenges that might knock another big, strong believer down for the count. But, instead, Ms. Joyce comes back up praying boldly, passionately, and consistently. I'm thankful to be on that prayer list at times.

Several times in the last few years, I confess to wondering when it would be a good time to step down from my various ministry roles and let the next person in the next generation have a crack at them. And then I see Ms. Joyce helping with yet another Senior Adult Luncheon or supporting yet another women's ministry event or coordinating yet another mission project at Baptist Friendship House, and I am reminded that stepping down is not an option.

To step down is to step out of God's will because there is always more to be done to advance the kingdom of God. No, it doesn't mean I don't switch roles ... goodness, if someone hadn't done that before me, I might never have had the unique opportunities given to me through my years serving at FBNO and NOBTS to develop the spiritual gifts God entrusted to me.

I'm finding myself not looking forward to telling certain people goodbye as the end of our time in New Orleans draws closer. Ms. Joyce is one of those people but I know that's okay because I'm pretty sure that, even when hundreds of miles separate us, I'll still be watching what she's up to and learning just the same.

What do you want to be told in memory of you?

I should probably keep the story that I started yesterday going but, instead, my mind is trying to process the message of tonight's conference speaker Cindy Townsend.

Cindy has a tender heart and a deep desire to know God and make Him known. I have admired her ministry passion for many years and am thankful to have her at this NOBTS Women's Conference which -- as she and several others pointed out -- is my last as Coordinator of Women's Programs.

Cindy speaks freely and easily in this setting. She knows the Word and engages the Truth with confidence and humility. She chose Mark 14:3-9 as her jumping off place; it's the story of the woman who anointed Jesus with costly perfume. With the thought that sometimes you start with the end in mind, she processed the question, "What do you want to be told in memory of you?" This referred to v. 9 in which Jesus said, "Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her."

I doubt that this woman's motives had anything to do with what she wanted to be remembered for. Her act of worship was an extravagant expression of the undeserved forgiveness she had received. She followed her heart despite the common convention of her day. She wasn't worthy, she wasn't welcome, and she certainly wasn't using her resources in the way more experienced disciples considered prudent. But still she came and gave, and is thus remembered.

Cindy spoke of several funeral messages she had heard lately and it grated on her that, at one, a favorite aunt was remembered for leading a garden club. "She was so much more than that!" Cindy proclaimed as she explained that she told her husband she didn't want anything like that in her obituary or funeral service. "What do you want me to say?" he asked. "I don't know," she responded, "but please don't let it be about that!"

What Cindy was leaning toward and what I know to be true for me is that things like this don't have eternal value. I learned a long time ago we can do a lot of good things but that doesn't mean they matter in eternity. For example . . .

• I don't want to be remembered for planning good conferences unless it is mentioned that this is how God used me to express His spiritual gift of administration.
• I don't want to be remembered as a coupon-clipping penny-pincher unless it is to point out that this gave me (and my family) the freedom to give generously to missions and other God-appointed needs.
• I don't want to be remembered as someone who exercised regularly and ran a few marathons unless it is noted that I saw great responsibility in being the home of the Holy Spirit and wanted to live a life ready to GO when He called.

I could name a few more of this kind of thing but, suffice it to say, if what I do only matters while I'm here on earth, I need to rethink the priority of it in my life. Instead, I want my life so attached to the gospel so that, "whenever the gospel is preached," people who know me will be moved to consider how my life pointed to God ... which reminds me of one of my favorite children's books A Tale of Three Trees, but that's a story for another day ... in the meantime, check out https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DjlOViJlM3U ... and note the final words: "that was better than being the tallest tree in the world."

Piddling with Minutiae

Have I told you before that I want to be a blogger? I want the words that swim in my head to pour out through my fingers and into cyberspace. I want to share the "God-sightings" that surround me throughout my days. I want to ponder the mystery of the Gospel and dare to think that the Almighty has chosen to share His truth with me.

But so many times I let the stresses of this world ... the time-eaters and their meaningless distractions hold me back. I say I don't have time but what I mean is I don't make time. It seems that lately it's easier to piddle with minutiae than to come face-to-face and heart-to-heart with the dissonance in my heart and mind.

Almost six weeks ago, my dear friend's husband took his life. The aftermath has been a big, boiling pot of emotional gumbo. One minute I miss his contagious laugh and inexhaustible servant heart. The next minute I'm wallowing in a mess of frustration and disbelief at the chaos he had surrounded himself in. I keep listening for his Dakota or Jimmy or Tracer or whatever was his vehicle of the moment to go clunking up the street ... to hear him call my name in passing in the student center ... to see him in his driveway tinkering on yet another student's car. Instead, I'm faced with the realization that he is gone, and his family -- his wife, his daughter, and his son -- are clinging to Hope in the midst of dusty paper piles and greasy tool bins.

I may write more about this later because of the way John's death has slammed into my own personal life change. For example, the day before John died, Allen and I met with the Pastor Search Team from Dunwoody Baptist to review our thoughts on moving to this community and Allen assuming the role of senior pastor. Just two weeks before this, John and Christi spoke at length with four members of the team in a detailed reference call. These members had already recounted their perception of John and how they heard in his report his admiration and respect for Allen's work and friendship. When they heard the news of John's passing, they mourned with us and cried out in prayer for us.

But that same night, they also voted to recommend to the church that Allen Jackson be considered for the senior pastor position at DBC.

More to come....