Another intriguing fact about having a "handy-man" for a father is that the majority of his presents every year are some version of a new tool. Regardless of if it is Father's Day, his birthday, Christmas, or whatever the occasion may be, a tool will probably be purchased. At times I am genuinely surprised that there are still more tools to buy him. Certainly a day will come when he owns every possible tool that exists and new tools will only come as the old ones break.
However, in the time that I have spent working with my dad, I have come to realize this is not true. With every job, the basic and essential tools are needed. Few times have I known a screwdriver, pair of pliers, or a hammer to not be used. With each specific task, however, certain specialized tools are needed. At times, jobs can be completed by working with whatever you have. Still, the presence of specified and specialized tools often make completing certain tasks much more efficient and possible. In reality, there are times when repairs cannot be made without one very specific tool.
For the average Joe, a small toolbox filled with the basic tools will suffice. For someone like my father, however, a small toolbox will not even suffice in the trunk of your vehicle. No. For my father, a large standing toolbox works to hold all of the "primary" tools. An entire workshop with multiple rooms is needed to house each of the thousands of specialized tools he has. To some outside observers, it may seem senseless to own so many tools. Why would that be necessary? But after working on project after project with him, I can attest to the use of most every tool he has. This is not to say that everyone should own as many tools as my dad does. But when specialized projects are so often being completed, each tool serves its purpose and thus requires a place to be stored.
I am beginning to think of seminary in the same way. I have often heard people refer to seminary as pointless or excessive academic training. People say things such as, "The disciples had no graduate degree, yet they were the men chosen to begin Christ's church. The only training they had was to be with Jesus."
While I understand the point that is being made in such a statement, I remain convinced of the necessity for further Biblical education. While I believe that every Christian would greatly benefit from the knowledge that I am privileged to receive here at Asbury, I also understand that most Christians will never step foot on a Seminary campus.
As I embrace a life of following Jesus and being used to further establish God's Kingdom of love, truth, and grace in the hearts of the people around me, I continue to find more and more situations that require specific skills, specific wisdom, and specific experiences for the establishment of the kingdom. Much like my dad makes use of such specialized tools to complete each project he works on, I hope to make use of every "tool" that the Father is equipping me with here at Seminary. Therefore, I continue to need more storage space to contain all that I am being given.
Although it may appear to most people that my dads tools spend most of their time laying on a shelf or in a drawer, these are the very tools which are needed in order to repair every broken thing that is laid at my father's feet. Likewise, I am sure there are things that I am learning which will remain locked in my heart and brain for the majority of my life. However, I am confident that a time will come when these things will be used to bring restoration to each broken person that comes to my Father's feet.
And just as each of my dad's tools are useless without the skill, strength, and finesse of his hands, everything that I am being given here will be useless without the love and compassion of the Father being the center of my heart. Also, without the skill of my dad's hands, these tools can be dangerous and can destroy the very thing they are meant to repair. I pray that everything I learn here will be employed with grace, humility, and compassion to establish His kingdom.
May your toolbox, or workshop, be filled with every tool available to you. And may each one be properly and adequately handled to bring restoration and transformation in your life and in the lives of those around you.
March 25, 2009
March 23, 2009
the tears fell
It was a cool North Georgia night in April. I was overwhelmed with school and any other ridiculous stress that a college student gets consumed with. It was the last session of the day for the Crosstrainers Retreat and the service had just ended. Most of the kids had made their way off to the camp fire to make s'mores and to find more trouble to get into. And I began to weep.
For three years I had been involved in this great Crosstrainers program and had thoroughly enjoyed the time I had spent with Brent and his brothers. Some of my fondest memories from college involve driving around with Brent, Aaron, and Jamal as we headed off to play basketball or carve out a pumpkin. I had been to the Crosstrainers retreat for the past two years. But something about this night was different. As I sat through the night session, realizing that so much of my energy was being directed toward my own life (my studies and my relationships and my future) I began to attempt to really focus my attention on the kids. The altar call had been given and most of the kids were now leaving. However, I remained, face down on a wooden gym floor weeping.
The Lord had completely broken my heart. I was overwhelmed with a passion to see these children rise up and walk into the fullness of the freedom and the hope that was given to them in Christ. I was broken to see so many lives in only the beginning stages of understanding the heart of the Father. I was gripped with the reality of the hopelessness that so many of these kids were living in. I wanted so much more for them. And it was at this very moment, as I had removed myself from being the center of focus and had asked to see these kids the way that Jesus does, that the tears began to fall. I was given a glimpse of the depth of His heart for each of these kids; especially for Brent and his brothers. It was the first time in my life that my heart had been completely and utterly broken for someone or some group of people. And so I wept. I wept because I wanted for them. I wept because I hoped for them. I wept because I believed for them. I wept because I loved them.
To this day, I believe that very night was the beginning of the Lord's call to my heart to teach and fight for His children. It was laying face down on a dirty wooden floor in a puddle of tears that I began to realize that I had no greater joy than to know that His children were walking in truth. And ever since that beautifully tender night in 2004, the Spirit has been awakening my heart for the people of my King.
Recently, my plans for spring break fell through. I had really gotten my hopes up and now I was very disappointed that I would be resigned to less than what I had wanted. However, a few days ago, I received a phone call from the lady who now runs Crosstrainers. Their retreat this year happens to fall on the last weekend of my spring break, and she asked me to come and not only see the kids again, but also to speak to them. I cannot express how honored I am. Even after 6 years spent ministering to these kids, I still doubt my ability to connect with them. We are so very different from one another. However, I am blessed to still possess that same broken heart for these kids. And the Father has blessed me with an opportunity to spend part of my spring break with them.
So many times while in college, when I was having a bad day or was really struggling through something, I would just go to one of the communities or call Brent up and would just hang out with them. Immersing myself into their world was the best medicine I ever found in Athens. And once again, as I was selfishly disappointed about my failed spring break plans, plans that I thought would be the very best thing for my soul, the Lord is going to use these kids as His blessing in my life.
Thus, after a few days spent at home with my family, and getting to play with my nephews and niece, I am headed off to my 8th Crosstrainers Retreat. I will covet your prayers, both for me, each of the kids, and each of their coaches(mentors). I am hoping that once more, the tears may fall. May you find blessings in every disappointment you encounter as well. I will be sure to let you know how it goes.
For three years I had been involved in this great Crosstrainers program and had thoroughly enjoyed the time I had spent with Brent and his brothers. Some of my fondest memories from college involve driving around with Brent, Aaron, and Jamal as we headed off to play basketball or carve out a pumpkin. I had been to the Crosstrainers retreat for the past two years. But something about this night was different. As I sat through the night session, realizing that so much of my energy was being directed toward my own life (my studies and my relationships and my future) I began to attempt to really focus my attention on the kids. The altar call had been given and most of the kids were now leaving. However, I remained, face down on a wooden gym floor weeping.
The Lord had completely broken my heart. I was overwhelmed with a passion to see these children rise up and walk into the fullness of the freedom and the hope that was given to them in Christ. I was broken to see so many lives in only the beginning stages of understanding the heart of the Father. I was gripped with the reality of the hopelessness that so many of these kids were living in. I wanted so much more for them. And it was at this very moment, as I had removed myself from being the center of focus and had asked to see these kids the way that Jesus does, that the tears began to fall. I was given a glimpse of the depth of His heart for each of these kids; especially for Brent and his brothers. It was the first time in my life that my heart had been completely and utterly broken for someone or some group of people. And so I wept. I wept because I wanted for them. I wept because I hoped for them. I wept because I believed for them. I wept because I loved them.
To this day, I believe that very night was the beginning of the Lord's call to my heart to teach and fight for His children. It was laying face down on a dirty wooden floor in a puddle of tears that I began to realize that I had no greater joy than to know that His children were walking in truth. And ever since that beautifully tender night in 2004, the Spirit has been awakening my heart for the people of my King.
Recently, my plans for spring break fell through. I had really gotten my hopes up and now I was very disappointed that I would be resigned to less than what I had wanted. However, a few days ago, I received a phone call from the lady who now runs Crosstrainers. Their retreat this year happens to fall on the last weekend of my spring break, and she asked me to come and not only see the kids again, but also to speak to them. I cannot express how honored I am. Even after 6 years spent ministering to these kids, I still doubt my ability to connect with them. We are so very different from one another. However, I am blessed to still possess that same broken heart for these kids. And the Father has blessed me with an opportunity to spend part of my spring break with them.
So many times while in college, when I was having a bad day or was really struggling through something, I would just go to one of the communities or call Brent up and would just hang out with them. Immersing myself into their world was the best medicine I ever found in Athens. And once again, as I was selfishly disappointed about my failed spring break plans, plans that I thought would be the very best thing for my soul, the Lord is going to use these kids as His blessing in my life.
Thus, after a few days spent at home with my family, and getting to play with my nephews and niece, I am headed off to my 8th Crosstrainers Retreat. I will covet your prayers, both for me, each of the kids, and each of their coaches(mentors). I am hoping that once more, the tears may fall. May you find blessings in every disappointment you encounter as well. I will be sure to let you know how it goes.
March 16, 2009
a good hit
I don't have time for many words. Instead, I'll let you listen to these words:
May you get a good hit in today.
May you get a good hit in today.
March 10, 2009
Need a Toolbox? (part 1)
My father is the definition of a handy-man. Whether it is in the context of construction, automobile repair, lawn and gardening, appliances, or or overall repairs. I have always been amazed at the depth of his knowledge and his confidence in dealing with each situation as it would arise. I have learned much from him. I'm not close to, nor do I believe I will ever be as gifted as he is at working with his hands. Yet I remain so thankful and blessed for all that he has shared with me and hope to retain as much of it as possible.
The physical benefits of having such a father are numerous. Financially, I have been able to save so much money because of his wisdom. A simple example of this would be my ability (thanks to him) of being able to service my own vehicle. (This includes so many chapters in the "Chronicles of the T-bird") In addition, the repairs that have been required for my car have almost completely been done either by my father or at least under his supervision, saving the cost of labor that would have been paid to a mechanic. (This list of benefits really could go on and on.)
Secondly, there was a sense of comfort to be had in knowing that most any problem which arose as we were growing up could probably be fixed by my dad. Although technology is taking over the world, I hope that I will be able to share some of this same knowledge with my own children one day. The same healthy sense of independence and confidence in your work.
However, there was always one very annoying characteristic that accompanied my "handy-man" father. Whenever either of my sisters or I were outside working with him, he would often ask us to hand him specific tools. We would begin looking for the requested tool, knowing that he had just held it in his hand, and would not be able to find it.
And almost without fail, the tool being searched for was eventually found in the same place: his back pocket! I remember getting so aggravated when he would ask us over and over for the screwdriver or the wrench and we couldn't find it. Finally, we got to the point where we would begin our search for the tool by asking him if it was in his back pocket. Even now remembering these times makes me laugh.
I remember my mom once telling me that before we came along and when she would have been outside helping my dad, she would routinely place the tool back in the toolbox as soon as my dad wasn't using it. This would guarantee that she could find it again. However, it meant that my dad would have no idea where things were. This has always been a very humorous situation in my mind.
Similarly, I have often found myself wanting a "spiritual toolbox" of sorts. A place where I can organize everything that the Lord is teaching me so that when needed, I will know exactly where to find it. There are so many things that I am learning and I can foresee times when I will need access to those things. Not every tool can fit in your back pocket. And instead of spending exorbitant amounts of energy and time trying to locate whatever may be needed, I hope to find a toolbox to place it all in. I can see myself now asking the Lord to remind me about certain truths or realities that I've learned but can't seem to fully wrap my mind around again, only to have Him ask me, "Is it in your back pocket?"
May you find a place to organize everything the Lord shares with you in such a way to make room for the limitless amount of revelation He has left to share with you.
The physical benefits of having such a father are numerous. Financially, I have been able to save so much money because of his wisdom. A simple example of this would be my ability (thanks to him) of being able to service my own vehicle. (This includes so many chapters in the "Chronicles of the T-bird") In addition, the repairs that have been required for my car have almost completely been done either by my father or at least under his supervision, saving the cost of labor that would have been paid to a mechanic. (This list of benefits really could go on and on.)
Secondly, there was a sense of comfort to be had in knowing that most any problem which arose as we were growing up could probably be fixed by my dad. Although technology is taking over the world, I hope that I will be able to share some of this same knowledge with my own children one day. The same healthy sense of independence and confidence in your work.
However, there was always one very annoying characteristic that accompanied my "handy-man" father. Whenever either of my sisters or I were outside working with him, he would often ask us to hand him specific tools. We would begin looking for the requested tool, knowing that he had just held it in his hand, and would not be able to find it.
And almost without fail, the tool being searched for was eventually found in the same place: his back pocket! I remember getting so aggravated when he would ask us over and over for the screwdriver or the wrench and we couldn't find it. Finally, we got to the point where we would begin our search for the tool by asking him if it was in his back pocket. Even now remembering these times makes me laugh. I remember my mom once telling me that before we came along and when she would have been outside helping my dad, she would routinely place the tool back in the toolbox as soon as my dad wasn't using it. This would guarantee that she could find it again. However, it meant that my dad would have no idea where things were. This has always been a very humorous situation in my mind.
Similarly, I have often found myself wanting a "spiritual toolbox" of sorts. A place where I can organize everything that the Lord is teaching me so that when needed, I will know exactly where to find it. There are so many things that I am learning and I can foresee times when I will need access to those things. Not every tool can fit in your back pocket. And instead of spending exorbitant amounts of energy and time trying to locate whatever may be needed, I hope to find a toolbox to place it all in. I can see myself now asking the Lord to remind me about certain truths or realities that I've learned but can't seem to fully wrap my mind around again, only to have Him ask me, "Is it in your back pocket?"
May you find a place to organize everything the Lord shares with you in such a way to make room for the limitless amount of revelation He has left to share with you.
March 6, 2009
Into the Sky
Seminary is great.
Seminary is difficult.
Seminary is a melting pot.
Seminary is the fusion of revelation.
Now that my health has returned, I have really been free to enjoy and absorb much more from daily life here at Asbury. Of course I learn from my professors' lectures. Several of them I could listen to daily. As part of the Healing Academy, I'm provided opportunities to discuss and learn numerous aspects of healing and healing prayer as well as the blessing of praying for and with people. Twice this semester I've been able to sit in on Levite Camp, a discussion of worship and worship planning. Chapel services every week provide so much sustenance for me to digest. My time spent with Jesus in AHOP (Asbury House of Prayer) often becomes the processing plant where the Lord ties all of these things together as He organizes my heart, giving me freedom to receive more, and peace to continue the adventure. Friday night dinners with my 'Not a Small Group' are incredible times of community and fellowship filled with encouragement and laughter, prayer and communion. Discussions over meals in the dining hall are always opportunities to share in the joys and struggles of life. Even listening to lectures and podcasts on my ipod while I'm at work fills my mind with insight and revelation.
And still, one of the primary places where my mind encounters expansion is in the reading of my texts. Unlike undergrad, I really enjoy most of the books that I have to read. Actually, I get quite frustrated at times when I simply do not have enough time to read all that I want to. I hate the feeling that sometimes comes over me when I'm simply reading to get an assignment completed and am too stressed to really interact with the text.
This reminds me of a Jason Upton song titled "Into the Sky." In it, he shares how his son asked him if his theology books will come alive and if Jesus will come down and play with him in the midst of those books. To get a better understanding of this, you can watch this video:
Thus, I'm asking that Jesus will come down and join me as I read all of these books:
May you and I both encounter and invite Jesus into all that we do. He brings life. He is life. And if we want to experience the fullness of life, His presence is essential.
(P.S. The book fund is empty!)
Seminary is difficult.
Seminary is a melting pot.
Seminary is the fusion of revelation.
Now that my health has returned, I have really been free to enjoy and absorb much more from daily life here at Asbury. Of course I learn from my professors' lectures. Several of them I could listen to daily. As part of the Healing Academy, I'm provided opportunities to discuss and learn numerous aspects of healing and healing prayer as well as the blessing of praying for and with people. Twice this semester I've been able to sit in on Levite Camp, a discussion of worship and worship planning. Chapel services every week provide so much sustenance for me to digest. My time spent with Jesus in AHOP (Asbury House of Prayer) often becomes the processing plant where the Lord ties all of these things together as He organizes my heart, giving me freedom to receive more, and peace to continue the adventure. Friday night dinners with my 'Not a Small Group' are incredible times of community and fellowship filled with encouragement and laughter, prayer and communion. Discussions over meals in the dining hall are always opportunities to share in the joys and struggles of life. Even listening to lectures and podcasts on my ipod while I'm at work fills my mind with insight and revelation.
And still, one of the primary places where my mind encounters expansion is in the reading of my texts. Unlike undergrad, I really enjoy most of the books that I have to read. Actually, I get quite frustrated at times when I simply do not have enough time to read all that I want to. I hate the feeling that sometimes comes over me when I'm simply reading to get an assignment completed and am too stressed to really interact with the text.
This reminds me of a Jason Upton song titled "Into the Sky." In it, he shares how his son asked him if his theology books will come alive and if Jesus will come down and play with him in the midst of those books. To get a better understanding of this, you can watch this video:
Thus, I'm asking that Jesus will come down and join me as I read all of these books:
May you and I both encounter and invite Jesus into all that we do. He brings life. He is life. And if we want to experience the fullness of life, His presence is essential.
(P.S. The book fund is empty!)
March 1, 2009
Ice capades 2.1
I may have found the one thing that aggravates me more than snow/ice/cold weather. Know what that is? Let me tell you. It's the change from 50 degrees one day to 20 degrees with snow and ice the following day. And the daily/weekly cycles that we've been experiencing the past few weeks have been creating plenty of aggravation within me.
Last night, as I drove home from work in the snow/ice/sleet, I had to make a few stops. Each time I returned to my car to drive to the next stop as I made my way home, more and more ice would accumulate on my car. Obviously the hood and windshield stayed pretty clear due to the small bit of heat from the engine. However, the rest of the car became a moving block of ice.
My last stop was to fill my gas tank. I got out of the car (without my gloves because I had lent them to a friend who went skiing this weekend) and walked around to start pumping the gas. There was only one problem...the sheet of ice that covered the door over my gas tank. Problem? YES! After attempting many failed solutions to this problem, I wound up having to use the warmth of my bare hands and my breath to melt the ice away. Then, with hands that hurt very badly, I progressed to open the gas tank and fill it.
As I waited, a car beside me pulled up with a mom quickly taking her small son out of the car as he had and was currently vomiting everywhere. After asking if she needed any help (yes, I do have a heart), I wondered which situation I would prefer to find myself in. 1)frozen hands and an ice covered gas tank or 2)a child vomiting in the back seat...If you know me, then you know which I would prefer. The ice! (you thought I'd say the vomiting child didn't you?) I couldn't chose the vomit because that would require that a child was suffering. And as much as I hate the cold, I would rather deal with that than see a kid get sick.
Next, as I slid the rest of the way home, I tried to simply thank the Lord that I was no longer sick. Even as my car slid sideways across ice covered bridges, all I could do was thank the Lord for my health.
As the "Chronicles of the T-bird" continue, may you all find health and joy in this crazy season of weather. And to all of you Athens folks who I hear got some snow today, may you have more fun in it and stay safer than all of us here in Kentucky.
Last night, as I drove home from work in the snow/ice/sleet, I had to make a few stops. Each time I returned to my car to drive to the next stop as I made my way home, more and more ice would accumulate on my car. Obviously the hood and windshield stayed pretty clear due to the small bit of heat from the engine. However, the rest of the car became a moving block of ice.
My last stop was to fill my gas tank. I got out of the car (without my gloves because I had lent them to a friend who went skiing this weekend) and walked around to start pumping the gas. There was only one problem...the sheet of ice that covered the door over my gas tank. Problem? YES! After attempting many failed solutions to this problem, I wound up having to use the warmth of my bare hands and my breath to melt the ice away. Then, with hands that hurt very badly, I progressed to open the gas tank and fill it.
As I waited, a car beside me pulled up with a mom quickly taking her small son out of the car as he had and was currently vomiting everywhere. After asking if she needed any help (yes, I do have a heart), I wondered which situation I would prefer to find myself in. 1)frozen hands and an ice covered gas tank or 2)a child vomiting in the back seat...If you know me, then you know which I would prefer. The ice! (you thought I'd say the vomiting child didn't you?) I couldn't chose the vomit because that would require that a child was suffering. And as much as I hate the cold, I would rather deal with that than see a kid get sick.
Next, as I slid the rest of the way home, I tried to simply thank the Lord that I was no longer sick. Even as my car slid sideways across ice covered bridges, all I could do was thank the Lord for my health.
As the "Chronicles of the T-bird" continue, may you all find health and joy in this crazy season of weather. And to all of you Athens folks who I hear got some snow today, may you have more fun in it and stay safer than all of us here in Kentucky.
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