θαυμάζω

Today I have decided to publish a lengthy pastoral note that I wrote to the parents of teens in my church. I wanted to remind myself that no matter what takes place on the earth, the Lord is King and that there are no political circumstances down here that change heavenly reality in the slightest. Anyway, it's all explained below. Dear parents, Bad news on the Internet Earlier this afternoon I sat through our pastoral team meeting distracted and only somewhat listening as I obsessively switched browser tabs back and forth from the meeting minutes to the infamous New York Times U.S. Election forecast . As it became increasingly clear that Donald Trump will once again be elected President of the United States, I felt a pit of anxiety grow deep in my stomach. I was bracing, and not at all ready for another four years of emotionally exhausting political discourse, circus headlines, deeply divided culture, and what my friend described as “watching a car crash online every single day”. 

Have you ever felt like nobody was there? Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere? Have you ever felt like you could disappear ? Like you could fall, and no one would hear? I occasionally worry about projection.  Simon and I have often talked about the need for authenticity in ministry. People don't respond to "Thou shalt" as much as they do to "I feel like". Facts and data can be disputed, and these days you can cherry pick data from the Internet to prove any point that you would like to make. But in our culture it is a sin to invalidate someone's personal experience. And so I frequently tell personal stories in my preaching and candidly share about how the passage applies in my own life. And people usually respond pretty positively to this; they often tell me how much they appreciate a preacher who is "real" or "open about his own weaknesses" or (ironically) "not too preachy".  But sometimes, oftentimes, I wonder

I freakin' love chicken wings.  When I was in college, there used to be this bar near our campus that did twenty five cent wings on Thursdays. For five bucks (plus beer money) I could get a great feed that hits all the key nutritional food groups ( salt, fat, acid, and heat . Hmm, now that I'm thinking about it, there's an argument to be made that the buffalo wing is the ultimate food that perfects all the core elements of deliciousness). But to top that, a different bar  only a slightly longer drive away did TEN CENT WINGS and dollar PBRs on Monday nights. You could get drinks and eat yourself stupid and still get change for your five-spot.  Twenty years on I am a whole lot more health conscious, but my love for wings hasn't changed. In fact, I've succeeded in passing this affinity onwards genetically. The other day my family almost finished an entire Costco package of chicken wings in one dinner. The kids carried their weight; even my one year old was stacking the

Pressure pushin' me from all sides Insecurities of all kinds Yeah, I'm a hostage to my own pride Most important things in life to me are things I know I can't buy (Pictured above: The only photo I can find with all three of their heads turned) I have a bit of a surreal thought. It occurs to me that, if your mother and I are given a lot of grace and wisdom and somehow get things right when it comes to raising you, then you will grow up with a fairly different background to me.  I've often mentioned this in my ministry and I'm sure that at some point I would have shared this with you, but I grew up with a lot of personal insecurity. When I was young, the important adults in my life spent a lot of time telling me how smart I was. They never passed up an opportunity to remind me that I was gifted.  But what I didn't often hear was that I was loved.  The other day I heard a well-known Australian family counselor say that every child fundamentally has three core needs

Dear Naomi, Welcome to the world! I can't believe once again I have the privilege of being a father.  I have been wanting to meet you for such a long time. You haven't been in the world for even two months yet and you have made us all so happy. Your siblings adore you and can't get enough of you. And your mother and I are once again filled with amazement and wonder, asking ourselves how it could be that we we have you, a precious gift beyond what we deserve. You have filled the house with new life and warmth.  I wanted to tell you a little bit about your name. You and your sister were both named after women in Bible passages that I happened to be studying around the time that you came into the world. Abigail means "my father's delight" and that was appropriate for her because she was the first one to come along and teach me what true delight meant. To me, happiness now has two distinct definitions: One for before I became a father and one for after. All three