Becoming more thankful...

I received a great compliment yesterday. After our worship service at church, a man said to me, “Pastor, that is probably the second best sermon you’ve ever delivered.” At first, it struck me as odd. It must of shown on my face. He continued, “I only say that because I know you’ve preached some good ones before, I just wanted you to know that was one of the best.” As I reflected on that comment over night, as it sort of sank in a bit and my all too big ego went down some, I appreciate it even more. In the past, I have heard a similar line. A lady has approached me and said, “That was one of your top five sermons.” I always like that compliment. It goes over better than the ones who say, “That’s the best sermon you’ve ever given.” I hear that and automatically think, “Well, I must have not been very good in the past.”

Truth be told, I am not very good at the whole compliment thing. As Megan can tell you, I rarely compliment anyone, even her. I’m far more able to critique than I am to compliment. It’s definitely a problem. I’ve hidden behind a theory for far too long, which is this: I do not need someone to compliment me. I’m smart enough and big enough on my own and do not need someone else to help build me up. And since I do not need it, I, in turn, do not need to compliment others. In some sick, sadistic way (in my head), it was my attempt at trying to make people stronger. As I think about it now, I can only laugh at how silly this whole line of thinking truly is. In reality, we all need to hear a compliment every now and then. We need to know that we are appreciated and loved. That’s part of living in community with other people, the ebb and flow of life.

As I think about complimenting, in my mind, it comes down to becoming a more thankful person. To compliment someone means that you appreciate something about them and you express it. Being thankful is extremely Biblical. Throughout the Psalms we hear about giving thanks and about praising, another word for compliments. Paul’s writings are very similar. Ironically, as I think about this, it is exactly one month away from the time the rest of the country pauses for the holiday Thanksgiving. So here’s the challenge I am posing to myself. Every day for the next month, I am going to offer up at least one compliment. It may be to someone about something, or it may simply be in prayer to God. Regardless, at least one compliment per day for the next 31 days. I realize that this may appear hokey, but the idea is that if you do something enough, it might actually bring a real change within you. I want to be someone who compliments more. I want to be a more thankful person, for all the ways in which others, as well as God, have blessed me. As a brief side note, I know of one person who compliments people way too frequently. This person comes across as superficial and shallow. Hopefully, I can avoid that pitfall and will not appear as such. I guess it’s a chance that I will have to take. We’ll see how it goes. (A second side note to explain where this is coming from, I just finished reading a very entertaining book called The Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs. It has inspired me and I recommend it to everyone.)

A Christian Nation

So I now that Health Care is a touchy subject...but I HAVE to comment on it. First, let me say that I don't have the answers. I'm not to savvy when it comes to all of this and I am very fortunate to have good health care as a United Methodist Minister. So it would be very easy for me to say that I am happy with the way things are for myself and to leave it at that. But, I know better. I know better than to begin and end with myself. I know that there are many people who are not as fortunate as me and I know that even with good health care we are only a few medical emergencies away from disaster.

My big issue with this is that there are very clear biblical principles when it comes to taking care of people less fortunate than ourselves. Deuteronomy is explicit that the Israelites must take care of the widow, orphan, and resident alien (ie immigrant). Jesus in Matthew 25 is very clear on what he thinks about people who are taking care of the least of these. And yet, when it comes to health care so many people only want to worry about themselves or those who can take care of themselves.

So...here is the issue...why is it that the same people who say we live in a Christian nation do not want to operate out of solid biblical principles?

You can't be a Christian when it comes to certain issues and then look the other way on other issues.

Megan

More Like You

This past Sunday, the choir at church sang a song called “More Like You”. Here are the lyrics:

More like you, Jesus, more like you.
Fill my heart with your desire to make me more like you.
More like you, Jesus more like you.
Touch my lips with holy fire and make me more like you.
Lord, you are my mercy. Lord, you are my grace.
All my deepest sins have forever been erased.
Draw me in your presence. Lead me in your ways.
I long to bring you glory in righteousness and praise.

So I’m warming up with the choir before the worship service and I’m holding my son in my arms as I sing these words. And I look down at him as I’m singing the line, ‘more like you’. And I think to myself, ‘maybe God wants me to be more like Isaac’. Here’s how I believe I could learn a thing or two from my son: Isaac, most of the time, is very laid back. He goes to anyone, opening his arms to everyone. Isaac does not worry, I don’t think, yet. He allows himself to be fed, although that is getting trickier and trickier as the days pass. He takes naps, waking up refreshed and happy. He looks people in the eye, although sometimes he stares. He gets excited about very simple things. He’s fearless, not thinking about falling, only about how much fun it is to stand. He goes to bed early, getting enough sleep to face the next day, most of the time.

As I thought about all of this, the line that says we must have faith like a child came to mind. Maybe Jesus was on to something there.

A Tribute to My Best Friend

Just as he came into my life quickly, in a whirlwind of emotions, he also left me. The story goes like this: Mid-way through the second semester of my second year in divinity school at Duke, I received an additional amount of money that had been left over from a scholarship. Having school already paid for the semester, and being young and naïve about money, I did what any 23 year-old would want to do with money, to spend it. Having come out of a pretty tough relationship several months before, I had turned my attention for looking for a new best friend, one that would be far less trouble than a significant other. I had been on-line for about two weeks looking for a dog through a local adoption agency. Then the check came in the mail. I thought it was fortuitous. I had looked at the profile of a certain cute little dog named Kodiak about a million times. I’d look at other dogs, but I kept coming back to him. I finally got the nerve up to submit an on-line survey that requested information about him. The same morning that I sent in the form, the call from the foster parents came. It was the Friday before Spring Break, a break that I was using to come home for a week, just to relax. I thought to myself, what would be the harm to go and take a look. The couple allowed me to come and visit on Saturday so that I could meet Kodi before I made any kind of decision. Knowing nothing about a dog other than that I really wanted one, I consulted a good friend of mine to come along. She had a dog and knew a thing or two about dogs having grown up with them. My family had only ever had cats, so I was thankful for an educated friend to accompany me in my visit. As we pulled up to the house, I gave her very specific instructions. “You are to NOT allow me to get this dog. We are only here on a scouting mission. No matter what, you are to tell me to wait, and not to make any kind of decision about this dog.” My good friend that day, named Megan, who is now my wife, failed miserably to fulfill her part of the bargain. It was love at first site, looking back, for both of us. At the time, she never could have known what she herself was getting into. But I’m sure she doesn’t regret it in the least. Kodi, as we came to call him, was an adorable four-month old, 25 pound bundle of joy. He bounced around without a care in the world. He interacted well with the couple's other dogs and played with us as complete strangers. The only problem was that I was leaving the next day to come home for a week. The couple was also preparing to take him to one of those adopt-a-pet shows where he would have definitely been adopted. The couple agreed to take care of him for one more week if I promised to come get him as soon as I returned to Durham. The deal was done and I was the owner of new dog.




For six plus years, Kodi was my companion on a journey that I could not have gone on alone. He was with me through the ups and downs of Divinity School, through graduation, through my first appointment in Sumter, through our wedding, through my move back to Columbia, and everywhere in between. He sat on my bed with me on more than one occasion and comforted me as I cried. He endured a strict training program that lasted two months, but left him as one very well trained dog, not just on the leash, but through spoken words and hand signals. He even knew a little bit of Spanish and could spell, O-U-T and W-A-L-K. He loved to go on walks and down to the river, where he would run and play in the water. He dealt well with being a blended family, living with Megan’s dog Brooks and endured us adopting his little brother Durham. He even saw us bring home Isaac, although he was never really fond of him. He never really bonded with him like I thought he would, although I now know why. Over the last few months Kodi lost most of his energy. I thought he was just adjusting to a new life with a baby, but it turns out that he had developed cancer. He had lost a lot of weight over the last few days it seemed, so we took him to the vet. The news was rough. We could put him through surgery and the hell of chemotherapy, but it would only buy him another 4 to 6 months. Even then, he would be hurting. We made the decision yesterday to have him put to sleep.



You hear the term to describe dogs all the time, Man’s Best Friend. I’ve never given it a second thought, until now. I am realizing more and more that one’s heart is made up of people, and in my case and in many other’s, pets. And you don’t realize how much you love them, how much they mean to you until they are gone, and you are left with a little hole in your heart. My heart has a hole in it. Right now, it is big. Over time, it will grow smaller. But it will always be there. I thank God that for six plus years I had Kodi as my companion. He taught me what it was to be an adult, to think of someone or something other than myself, and gave me great practice in becoming a father. Just as he came into my life quickly, in a whirlwind of emotions, he also left me. I love you and I will miss you Kod-man. You were the BEST!

With closed eyes

Because Megan wasn’t feeling great last night and went to bed early, I volunteered to be on late night baby duty. Wouldn’t you know that our little guy woke up twice, once at midnight and then again around 4:15. As I began to feed him, it struck me as odd to see how awake he was, his blue eyes wide open, looking at me and at the fan above. Both times I thought to myself, ‘he’s not going to fall back asleep’. What was amazing was that he was wide-eyed for the first seven ounces of both bottles, but when it got down to that final ounce, his eyes began to slowly shut. It was as if he knew it was time to close his eyes. I wonder if it is something innate in a child, that he or she knows that the end of the bottle is coming and it is time to go back to sleep. I’m sure there are parents out there that would scoff at such a question, whose kids never go quietly into the night. But not our little man, he knew exactly when to close his eyes.

As I was witnessing this last night, especially at 4:15 (it’s amazing what I think about in the middle of the night, when my sleep is interrupted), I began to think about when I know to close my eyes. Over the last two weeks in our worship service, I have been so moved by the music we have been singing, that I have actually closed my eyes while singing praise to our Living God. I am not one of those people who loses themselves in the worship services. I rarely close my eyes and even more rarely do I lift my hands in praise. I don’t have anything against people who do that, it’s just not me. But the last two weeks, at some point in the service, there I was singing with my eyes closed.

Here’s the thing, my son closes his eyes as he becomes full of formula from the bottle. He knows the exact amount he needs and as he gets to the point of comfort, he relaxes allowing him to drift off into sleep. In our worship services the last two weeks, I believe that I have become full of the Spirit, allowing me to relax, to be comfortable and to fully worship God. It’s taken a long time and a lot of prayer to get our great little church to this point. We finally have a musician who knows what he is doing and is passionate and connected and modern, as well as having a heart for the tradition of the church. With God’s help, it will continue, and maybe we all can close our eyes a little more often, and maybe my son will start sleeping through the night.

We've been busy!

After a whirlwind tour over the last month that has seen us spend 6 days in Colorado for Stephen’s graduation, 8 days in Charleston for Salkehatchie, and 4 days in Florence for Annual Conference, we are happy to be home and trying to get our ‘little man’ back on some sort of schedule. I promise more posts are coming. I have a lot to share from our recent travels. Until then, enjoy a few favorite pictures of Isaac.

Back by popular demand...baby pics

Just some recent photos for your viewing pleasure...