A Shepherd, Or Just An Elder?

Day 158 (Written Friday May 18) ~ I’ve been a Christian for 23 years. I’ve been a preacher 15 years. I’ve been a missionary for 6 months. I have preached in over 200 churches in 13 states. In that time and in those various roles I have met A LOT of men serving in the position of elder in the Lord’s church. As in any category, there has been a wide range of “types” I have encountered who are overseeing congregations. Let’s get the bad news out of the way first. Some are not godly Christian men/they are unqualified, yet have been appointed as elders. Thankfully, this group is a very small minority, but the impact on a congregation can be devastating and very difficult to overcome. I’ve encountered men who are racist, use profanity, have explosive and violent tempers, lie and are womanizers. How these men got into the eldership I cannot fathom. These men actively do damage to the church, both amongst its members and in the community. Most are good men who are mostly qualified but fail to grasp to true gravity of the office. So many congregations have elderships made up of men who are not worldly or wicked. They are sincere in their beliefs and humble in their attitudes, yet quite a few are very limited in their Bible knowledge. They are appointed almost by default (they are the best we’ve got here at congregation X). They have been faithful in attendance for many years, always help when work is to be done, teach Bible class, but do they understand what is required of overseers? These men don’t hurt the congregation internally, nor in the community (at least not knowingly or intentionally), but neither do they meet its greatest needs. They insure sound doctrine is preached, the building is maintained, good works are supported (all of which is very, very important and necessary and for which they should be commended), but often fail to disciple the members. A few Christians will take off on their own and grow greatly into strong disciples, but most will simply occupy a pew, never reaching their potential. These men are elders and overseers, but they are lacking one vitally important quality desperately needed in the church. A few are shepherds. There is a difference between being in charge, and shepherding. The shepherd is in charge of the sheep, but he does so much more and is so much more to them. I have met very few shepherds. Even more rare is meeting a collection of shepherds in one congregation. But when you do, it is obvious. These are the congregations that others look at and wonder, “How do they do that?” A huge part of that reason is they have shepherds, not just elders. Not just men in charge, men making decisions about what color the carpet should be and if we need to buy new song books, but men who are shepherding God’s flock. They bring them back when they are astray, they feed them spiritually, they heal them when they are hurting, they protect them from enemies and attacks and they lead them where they need to be. This is what God intended: “The elders who are among you I exhort, I who am a fellow elder and a witness of the sufferings of Christ, and also a partaker of the glory that will be revealed: 2 Shepherd the flock of God which is among you, serving as overseers, not by compulsion but willingly,[a] not for dishonest gain but eagerly; 3 nor as being lords over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock” (1 Peter 5:1-3). There are several negatives qualifications and several positive ones as well. Negatives: don’t serve by compulsion (because someone wants you to, just because there is a need, just because you were asked), don’t serve for personal gain (especially dishonest gain, stealing, taking advantage of and abusing the authority of the position), don’t lord over those entrusted to you (you aren’t their boss, parents, master, God, these people trust you and God has trusted you with His sheep, you are a steward). Positives: shepherd the flock (see Psalm 23), serve as overseers (you may be “in charge” but you are still to be a servant, see Ephesians 5), serve willingly (you have to want this because it is going to require so much of you if you do it God’s way; if it’s just a job, you may oversee, but you’ll never shepherd), and serve as an example to the flock (don’t behave, lead, conduct in a way you wouldn’t want them to do back to you). I’ve never served as an elder, and I don’t believe I’m qualified to right now. I aspire to be qualified so that I can serve if I’m needed. None of what I have written is a knock on elders, quite the opposite. I know firsthand what is required of them and what it costs them and love the men who serve. I respect them and admire them. I trust them and I obey them. But I also pray and try to teach, so that those good men who are just serving as elders/overseers, can grow to become shepherds.

Canine Theology

Day 162 (Written Tuesday May 22) ~

There are churches today who are offering services for people and their pets, even offering communion for both man and beast. This is not a blog about that. This is a blog about what I learned about my own faith from watching my dog Fez tonight. In March of 2011 Po was mowing the yard when he noticed something hiding in the tall grass. He stopped the mower and went over to investigate, only to discover a tiny little ball of white and black fur buried in the green grass. It was a puppy. He picked her up (able to hold her in the palm of his hand) and came walking across the yard. I witnessed all of this from a distance and thought to myself, “Oh no. Whatever he found he will be in love with by the time he gets to the house and whatever it is will have to be fed.” Sure enough, I was right on both counts, but failed to realize She and the Oldest would be in love with it too. It was a tiny Jack Russell looking mutt puppy. You need to know a few things: #1 - I like animals just fine, but I don’t like having to take care of a pet. #2 - We already had a dog, a black lab named Saban who lives outside, requiring only a bowl of food each morning and evening. #3 - I am not an “animals are part of our family” type person (if you are I have no problem with that, it’s just not who I am). #4 - We were leaving the next week to go to Fort Wayne, Indiana for a weeklong Gospel meeting, and, after our nine hour drive, we would be staying in a hotel the whole time. Despite all of the previously mentioned facts, somehow I found myself paying a pet deposit and bringing this little fur ball along for the trip. Not only that, we wind up walking out of Pet Smart with a little green sweater for her. I AM NOT THAT PERSON, but somehow I had become that person. By the end of that trip, Fez was part of the family (and living in my house, something I had never allowed before). Fast forward a year to tonight. It was about 8:30 pm, dinner was finished, chores were done, so She and I decided to sit on the back deck and enjoy the cool evening following the rain storm. Anytime you go outside, Fez assumes that you are there to entertain her. I spent the next ten minutes playing a little game with Fez that I like to call “Let her attack me with tooth and claw until she grows exhausted or bored or both.” It is her absolute favorite game. While playing this game, she suddenly did something bizarre and interesting. All at once she took off, ran under a bush and came out with something in her mouth. I thought it must be a lizard (one thing she loves about South Georgia is chasing lizards), a mouse or a bird. She ran to the other side of the flower bed and started digging. You must understand, because it is all sand, this little puppy can dig a very big and deep hole in a matter of seconds. After digging a nearly one foot deep hole she put her prize in the hole and began using her nose to fill the hole in and bury whatever it was. She returned to playing for a minute and then stopped, ran back to the place where she buried her treasure and dug it up. This time she took it back under the bush. A minute later she buried it again. By this time I am getting curious as to what she has, and anticipate being able to play my favorite game called “Annoy Fez.” Jade and I started following her to her hiding places acting like we were going to get whatever she had buried. She did not like this at all. She acted all nervous, protective, jealous, stingy, whatever emotions a dog is capable of feeling. Fez did not want us to get her “precious.” Finally I was able to get behind the bush and dig up her buried treasure, while fighting her off as she tried desperately to protect it and keep me from getting it. She was able to get it (it was buried in sand, I had no idea what I was looking for and she has the added assistance of a very good sense of smell), but I caught her and pried it out of her mouth. You know what it was? It was a rotten apple core that I had thrown out nearly two weeks ago. This was her prized possession that she so desperately wanted and wanted to keep from anyone else. She and I (my wife, not Fez) had a good laugh and then went in to do some other things. An hour later I was sitting in the floor attaching mounting brackets to the blinds on our back porch door and was thinking about Fez. This is where the theology lesson kicked in. I wonder if my Master sees me with the same pity and sadness that I had toward Fez? He provides me with everything I need and also is present in my life and willing to spend time with me. How often do I stop to spend time in fellowship with Him, only to get distracted in a few minutes and go chasing after some other perceived treasure that is actually worthless? Fez spends much of the day alone, wishing we would come out back to spend some time with her, and when I did, she got distracted by something that was thrown out as trash. Do we not long for a closer relationship with God, desiring to be with Him, to know He is there and to have Him active in our lives? He is gladly present (I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world (Matthew 28:20)....I will never leave you nor forsake you (Hebrews 13:5) and yet it is we who walk away to chase after worthless things. Things we try to hide from others. Things we don’t want others to have. Things that we can’t walk away from for even a few minutes. Things that distress us as we worry about losing them or someone else getting them. Things that distract us from what we really want and need...time with Him. Fez doesn’t realize it, but that rotten apple core won’t last too much longer. Gradually it will wither, rot and dissolve into nothing. That is precisely what will happen to all of those shiny, new, expensive things that draw our attention away from God and consume our time. The new gets old. The shiny grows dull. The expensive loses its value. It will all turn to dust. They say a dog is man’s best friend, but on this night, my dog, was this man’s greatest teacher.

I’m Much Too Young To Be This Old

Day 161 (Written Monday May 21) ~ I have two sons it high school! It suddenly dawned on me today for the first time. Someone mentioned the fact that school was out and I saw all of the pictures on Facebook of kids graduation from kindergarten, eight grade and high school and it clicked with me. Since this school year is over, Po is no longer an eighth grader, he’s a freshman in high school! That means the oldest is now officially a senior! It was the summer between my junior and senior year that I met his mother. It’s almost incomprehensible that he is at the stage in life where the rest of his life can be shaped in one day. Two weeks before my senior year began I took an unscheduled day off work, met Her and 19 years later I still haven’t left her side. He is at that point in life. I’m not saying I want him to follow the same path as his mom and dad (marrying at 19 isn’t always the safest, wisest decision, most don’t survive twenty years like we have), but he is at the point where it can happen. He is on the cusp of being an adult, of growing up. Po can no longer be considered a little kid. He’s in high school. He will get his learners permit in four months. He will get his drivers license in just over a year. Where did the years go. It seems that every time I look at them now I can only see the little boys I fell in love with instantly. The one with the hardest southern accent you’ve ever heard (that never stopped) and the other who struggled with a stutter and wouldn’t speak to anyone that wasn’t family. The ones who used to come into my bedroom every morning to see what I was wearing so they could dress the same. The ones who wanted to go anywhere and do anything that their daddy was doing. The country accent is toned down quite a bit, and the stutter is gone leaving us a son who never meets a stranger. They would rather be beaten than dress like me nowadays. But I thank God that they still want to go anywhere and do anything their daddy is doing, and that is one thing about them I pray will never change.

Iglesia de Cristo

Day 160 (Written Sunday May 20) ~ Today I attended a church where they spoke in tongues, or at least it was tongues to me. No, I wasn’t at a Pentecostal church, I visited the Spanish speaking congregation of the church of Christ just south of my home. My good friend and co-worker Jack Farber had invited me to come and visit with him so we did this afternoon. The congregation meets in what is called the “Ortega Camp” (so named because Mr. Ortega bought and set up dozens of old mobile homes which he rents out to Hispanic immigrant workers at Coggins Farm). Me, Po and the Oldest joined rode with Panama Jack out to the church at 3:00 pm. If I had been blindfolded for the journey, when you opened my eyes I would have believed I was in Mexico. Their is an entire Hispanic community that lives and works in this camp, making it an ideal location for a congregation. Most of the people in this camp are poor, extremely hard working and desperately needing the Gospel. I couldn’t help but think that Latin American Missions is taking the Gospel all over Central and South America, but there are Latin souls right here in our community that can be reached as well. Two precious souls, Bill and Lydia Naylor, are the lifeblood of this congregation currently. Bill can read, but does not speak Spanish and Lydia is fluent. She teaches a children’s class and Bill leads singing. My boys and I sang along with every song he lead (we had a song book), and although we don’t speak Spanish (yet), we recognized what songs we were singing by the tune. Panama Jack did the preaching. Unlike our mission trips, there was no translator, so we had to really work to understand what Jack was preaching (we know enough words to ‘get the gist’ of what he was saying). He preached about sin and its consequences. After worship, we said goodbye, or adios and buenos tardes, and loaded in the truck to go to Forrest Park for our evening worship. It was an uplifting day for our family. We worshipped with brethren who do not speak our language, but share our faith and have the same Lord. What a blessing. I will not give the details, but amazingly one of the men there put in his contribution and let me say it was far, far more than the average church member gives. I will almost guarantee you he gave not of his excess but sacrificially. It only made me long for the days when we will leave for Central America even more. Please keep this little congregation in your prayers. There is an entire community of people who could be saved and served through this effort. They are small in number, small in funds, but huge in potential.

I Feel Like A Kid Again

Day 159 (Written Saturday May 19) ~ I taught my first teen Bible class back in June of 1998 at the Fairview VBS. I would go on to teach them class for the next ten years. One year later I began teaching the Sunday morning and Wednesday night teen Bible class at East Hill. I would teach one or both of these classes for the next 8 years. However, I haven’t taught the teen Bible class in nearly five years. I can truthfully say that I both miss it and don’t miss it. Teaching the teens isn’t for everyone and it can wear out and challenge even the most seasoned and dedicated of teachers. However, they are usually the most enthusiastic learners and participants which excites a teacher. I started teaching teens when I was barely out of my teens and through all the years they kept me feeling like a teenager. I have so much love for “my kids” that I taught through the years, and have enjoyed watching them become adults. Many of them are college graduates, married and even parents! Tomorrow I get to teach a teen class for the first time in a long time. I am filling in for the Sunday school teacher of our high school class at Forrest Park. This will be the first time my Oldest has been in my Bible class. I can’t believe how nervous I am. I am so excited to be teaching them and I hope they will enjoy the class to. I want them to learn things they can use in real life, not just memorize some facts about the Bible. They need to know how to live the Bible. That is my task, and I feel like a kid again.

Mission Control

Day 157 (Written Thursday May 17) ~

Just a few hours south of here is Cape Canaveral, Florida, also referred to as mission control. This is the place where most rockets, satellites, shuttles and astronauts are launched into space. Our great nation has done an amazing thing in taking our people into outer space. But long before the first rocket carrying humans left our atmosphere, many men had to spend long hours together planning how this was to take place. Additionally, the entire time they were in space, those same men were gathered together making sure that everything went according to plan and they returned home safely. Those amazing things could not have been accomplished without the work being done at mission control. Today I experienced for the first time the “mission control” for Latin American Missions. Eight of us gathered in a room for the day to hash out the details and dream the big dreams that allow us to evangelize nearly a dozen countries throughout Central and South America. The campaigns that will be attended by hundreds and benefit thousands will begin in just in a matter of days. Before this can happen, we have to figure out how to make it happen. We have to determine what we will do, what we can do and how to make it a reality. While some are gone to foreign countries, others will remain here to see that everything that needs to be done gets taken care of. It is truly a collective effort to make it happen, and because of that, we are able to accomplish great and amazing things to the glory of God and benefit of the hurting. If everyone in the church could see and hear the things I heard in this meeting of our missionary team, it would light a fire in the church that would be fueled by unlimited giving and stoked by the tireless enthusiasm of the masses. These folks genuinely love souls and are willing to work tirelessly to reach them. They have a passion for mission work and are always looking for opportunities and ways to save and serve those of Latin America. After a full day of meeting, it’s rare that all of us are in one place at the same time, we departed, energized, focused and ready to begin leading teams into Peru, El Salvador, Honduras, Costa Rica, Panama and Nicaragua in the next few days. Liftoff in 3, 2..........

Boiled Peanuts

Day 156 (Written Wednesday May 16) ~ Year after year when I was a child I sat in the back seat of my parents car as we made the eight hour trip South to the Gulf Coast. Once we got south of Montgomery, Alabama I would begin to see roadside signs and setups selling boiled peanuts. To my young mind, and still ingrained to this day, these boiled peanut stands were the mascots of the deep south. These stands littered the back roads of Florida, Georgia and Alabama. For over thirty years I have seen these signs, but I have never once tried a boiled peanut.....until today. When our good friends the Tutens learned that we had never eaten boiled peanuts they insisted that we try some. Saturday we stopped at Farmer Brown’s Fresh Produce market and bought some green peanuts. Michelle boiled them for us and today, for the first time in my life, I tried boiled peanuts. Here’s my assessment of them: they are very juicy, a little squishy, very salty and they reminded me of potatoes. All in all I liked them. I’ve never tried stone crabs either, anyone want to insist that I try them and cook me some of those?

A Few Little Things Add Up To One Big Thing

Day 155 (Written Tuesday May 15) ~ Sometimes its the little things that make a big difference. She is quite fond of posting on Facebook “Today I love...” and then listing what little things made her happy that day. I thought I’d try the same today. Being able to buy fresh shrimp. Being able to listen to ESPN Radio on my ride to and from work. Palm trees everywhere. Being close enough to the coast that I can smell the ocean most days. Cheap, local produce. Walks by the lake. Lots of restaurants within a half mile. The golf course across the road. DVD’s for check out at the public library across the road. The view of the lake from the library. A really cool downtown. Home cooked meals with my family each night. Room/space. Her nail polish. The list could be a lot longer, but I’m getting tired. Oh, yeah, that’s another little thing I love, going to bed on time.

First Day Of School

Day 154 (Written Monday May 14) ~ Do you remember how nervous you were that first day of school? You had never been there before, you didn’t know what to expect and you were nervous about making new friends. That is kind of what today is like for me. It is my first official day in the office. We’ve moved in, gotten settled and I am now ready to begin the day to day aspect of working with Latin American Missions. I’m so excited that I was up at five am and in my office by 5:45. I couldn’t wait to get started. I’ve got a lot to learn and a lot that I want to do. So while most of you are getting ready to end the school year, mine is just beginning. I’m going to summer school, but thankfully I will get to be a foreign exchange student studying abroad.

My Favorite Poems (Volume 7): Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Day 152 (Written Saturday May 12) ~ Most of you will probably think this is pretty weird I know, but this is one of those poems that has some truly “poetic” lines that I can’t resist. That, and the fact that it mentions two things that I love. When I was a little boy I had the biggest crush on Olivia Newton John. I thought she was so pretty and I loved to hear her sing. The Australian accent put her over the top as far as I was concerned. I liked her in Grease but I fell in love with her in Xanadu. If you don’t remember the movie Xanadu it’s no surprise. It was a bomb and a pretty terrible movie. It was a musical comedy focusing on a Greek muse who descends from Mount Olympus to Venice Beach, California via a painting on a wall. And did I mention there is roller skating? Lots of roller skating. Nevertheless, my five year old brain was entranced by the combination of a roller skating, painted muse coming to life via Olivia Newton John and was completely won over by that haunting theme song “Xanadu” (it also made popular the songs “Magic” and “Suddenly”). The second part of this appeal has to do with what is considered by many to be the greatest movie ever made. I first saw this movie when I was in college (the second time) in Dr. Brant Harwells English Literature class. We did a few weeks on classic movies and he showed us Orson Wells “Citizen Cane.” I loved the movie and was fascinated by the main characters home called Xanadu. Xanadu is a metaphor for splendor and opulence. Those two influences primed me to love this poem. I’ll spare you all the lines from this 214 year old poem, but here are a few of my favorites. In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. In a vision once I saw: It was an Abyssinian maid, And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight’t would win me That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome! those caverns of ice! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware! Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.

Upon This Rock

Day 147 (Written Monday May 7) ~ I collect rocks. Before you judge me crazy, consider that many of you do too, especially you ladies (what are most jewels but polished rocks?). In my desk I have a collection of small rocks that I keep with me to remind me of things I loved. The first rock is actually a piece of coral that I brought with me from the Caribbean Sea on our trip to St. Martin. It was the first time, after many years of dreaming, that I got to see the Caribbean. The second came from the Appalachian Trail on the Tennessee/North Carolina border. It was one of the most amazing and beautiful views I’d ever seen and I wanted something to commemorate it. The next one came from High Rock where I met Her when I was 17. For the last thirteen years I have lived within a mile of that spot. I passed it everyday on my way to and from work. I always want to keep a small part of that place with me because it was the place where my life turned down the path to true happiness. The next rock comes from the courtyard of Jackson Square in front of St. Louis Cathedral in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Again, if you’ve read any of my blogs, no explanation needed. The most recent addition to my collection of rocks is one that I took from Chicken Creek. Everyday for ten years I looked at that creek and I wanted to have it with me when I came to Georgia. This brings me to the seven very special rocks I loaded onto the moving truck right before pulling out of the driveway. Today, just before my mom, dad and mother in law left to go back to Tennessee, I asked them to participate with the four of us in a ceremony meant to turn the page on our past life and prepare us for the beginning of our new one. I took seven rocks from Chicken Creek and gave one to each of us. The first three were for my parents and mother in law. They represented the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. I had each of them lay their rocks down side by side in our flower garden in the backyard. Because they symbolized the Father, Son and Holy Spirit they served as the foundation for our monument and represented the foundation upon which our home is built. I had our parents put them down because they were the foundation for our lives. Our home is built upon our parents and upon our faith. The next two stones were put down on top of them by She and I. They represented the two of us and the the life we have built together. The final two were given to our sons and were placed by them on top of our two. They represented the two of them and the fact that their lives are built upon us and our faith. I explained to them that one day, whenever they leave our home and begin their own, they will each take their rock and use it for a monument in their own homes. At the conclusion of the ceremony I read passages from Joshua 4 where God commanded the children of Israel to take rocks form the Jordan River and build a monument to serve as a memorial to them of what God had done for them in bringing them to the Promised Land. It would be a conversation piece for their children and children’s children who would ask what it meant. And hopefully it will do the same for mine.

Daycation

Day 151 (Written Friday May 11) ~

A nice long vacation can do wonders for whatever ails you. As wonderful as seven days by the sea or up in the mountains might be, you can’t always take a week to unwind. Those opportunities usually only come once or twice a year, but the need for a little R & R almost always comes more often. This is the situation the Brittons found themselves in today. The last several months have been busy, filled with thousands of miles of traveling and the stress of relocating. This week we have been getting the house set up, unpacked and organized. Monday I will begin working at Latin American Missions full time, the next three months will be much more travels (Tennessee, Alabama, South Carolina, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Panama), so that leaves us with today. It would be fun to take a week long vacation, but we don’t have a week, we have today, so instead of a vacation, we decided to take a daycation. One day, not even twenty-four hours, to rest, relax, unwind and have fun. A lot of people would have opted for a staycation (stay at home vacation), but not the Brittons, we are a restless and rambling bunch. The alarm went off at 5:30 am and we were out the door and on the road at 6:26. Our decided destination was Seaside, Florida. If you don’t know about this town, you need to learn quickly. I grew up going to Panama City Beach (the Redneck Riviera) and Destin, but since adulthood, Seaside has been our favorite destination. No high rise condos, no go carts, no mini golf, just a picturesque, perfectly manicured village by the sea. It looks like a town right out of the movies (which it sort of is, since it was the setting of the Jim Cary movie, The Truman Show). I’ve lived 36 years of my life over seven hours away from the Gulf Coast, now I live one and a half. Seaside is actually three hours away, but that is plenty close enough for a daycation. Some of you may be thinking that is too far for a one day trip, but you must understand the Brittons can do a four hour drive like its a ride to the grocery store down the street. Both of my boys spent many long hours on the road beginning when they were babies. You throw the word beach in the sentence and three hours isn’t even an issue. We arrived in Seaside at 9:00 am (we went from Eastern to Central time zone) and decided to walk around the shops for a little while before heading to the water. Our first stop is my favorite store in all of Seaside, the book/record store. Downstairs is a bookstore and upstairs is a record shop, selling both new and used vinyl. I told Po that the guy running it has a dream job, selling records looking out over the ocean. Nice way to begin the day. Next we decided to hit the shore. The weather was perfect, not too hot, the water was crystal clear and calm. We sat and looked at the ocean, buried Po in the sand, waded out into the water and of course, dozed off. Some of us listened to music, some of us read books and some of us did nothing. The beach portion of the day ended in a very interesting way. A couple had been sitting ten feet from us most of the day. We had noticed them, but paid no attention to them. While we were getting ready to leave Jade pointed out how beautiful she was and how, not beautiful, he was. She said he looked like an old rocker and she must have been a groupie. When she said that it clicked in my mind why the guy looked familiar. It was 70’s shock rocker Alice Cooper. He looks a little older and fatter than I remembered, but it was him. The oldest and Po went over to him and asked if they could get a picture which he gladly did. He was very nice to them and we took off to Seagrove Market for shrimp po boys (some of the best we’ve had anywhere). With our day at the beach behind us, we decided to head back home, but we were going to take the scenic route. We drove back toward Lake Park along the Florida coast. Mexico Beach, Bay Saint Joseph, Appalachicola, Summer Camp Beach, and Panacea. It was nice to see parts of the coast I had never seen before, and even nicer to have nowhere to be and no regard for the clock whatsoever. We took the long way home because we were in no hurry. We spent the next three hours with the windows rolled down, the wind blowing through our hair and smelling the fresh air of pine trees and sea breezes. I got to see a nice sunset over the water too before stopping in Tallahassee for some good Cajun food at Coosh’s Bayou Rouge. They have Abita Root Beer! We pulled into the driveway near midnight, sunburned, exhausted, covered in salt and sand, but relaxed, happy and thankful. I doubt we will be able to take a week long vacation this year, but I have no doubt we will be enjoying another daycation before this year is over. We’ve seen the Gulf already, so I’m thinking maybe the Atlantic next.

What Advice Would You Give Your 14 Year Old Self?

Day 149 (Written Wednesday May 9) ~ Recently I was watching an interview show where the interviewer concluded by asking the celebrities the same question, “What would you say to your 14 year old self?” Some of their answers were silly, some were serious, some were insightful. It got me to thinking about that same question. At fourteen I was in the 8th grade and then started 9th grade (high school). It was one of the most influential and volatile times in my life. If I could talk to my 14 year old self, I would tell him, “Don’t go astray spiritually.” At 14 I was a very faithful (though relatively new) Christian. I was active and involved at my home congregation and tried my best to do what was right. Two years later I had completely abandoned my faith. It happened so fast and far too easy. Although I did make it through, it was at a price and it left plenty of scars. God was able to make good out of it, but He could have made good out of the other path too, without the consequences of sin. That was over twenty years ago and I still have to fight some of the battles that I invited in during those years. If I could talk to the 14 year old me I’d tell him to stay straight because he could make my life a little easier. What would you tell your 14 year old self?

My Favorite Poems (Volume 6): The Double Life by Don Blanding

Day 148 (Written Tuesday May 8) ~ How very simple life would be If only there were two of me A Restless Me to drift and roam A Quiet Me to stay at home. A Searching One to find his fill Of varies skies and newfound thrill While sane and homely things are done By the domestic Other One. And that’s just where the trouble lies; There is a restless me that cries For chancy risks and changing scene, For artic blue and tropic green, For deserts with their mystic spell, For lusty fun and raising Hell But shackled to that Restless Me My Other Self rebelliously Resists the frantic urge to move. It seeks the old familiar groove That habits make. It finds content With hearth and home-dear imprisonment, With candlelight and well-loved books And treasured loot in dusty nooks, With puttering and garden things And dreaming while a cricket sings And all the while the Restless One Insists on more exciting fun, It wants to go with every tide, No matter where...just for the ride. Like yowling cats the two selves brawl Until I have no peace at all. One eye turns to the forward track, The other eye looks sadly back. I’m getting wall-eyed from the strain, (It’s tough to have an idle brain) But One says “Stay” and One says “Go” And One says “Yes,” and One says “no,” And One Self wants a home and a wife And One Self craves the drifter’s life. The Restless Fellow always wins I wish my folks had made me twins. When I read this poem I swear that the author was digging through my thoughts for inspiration. While most poems I simply love, this one I actually live. This line, “With hearth and home-dear imprisonment” is one of the most profound lines of poetry I have ever read. So simple, but so dynamically expressive. For years I didn’t “get” poetry, but once I did, I began to enjoy lines like this in much the same way I enjoy a really delicious, high quality meal. You look forward to it, you take time to slowly savor it, and then you bask in the afterglow when you are done. I only wish there were two of me so that I could have someone to discuss poetry with.

Celebrity Life Swap

Day 146 (Written Sunday May 6) ~ It’s time for a break from the serious. The last several blogs have been in the realm of the serious, so today we are going goofy. Here’s the question: if you could swap lives with a celebrity of your choosing for one week, who would it be? For me it’s pretty simple, Harry Connick Jr., and here’s why: First off, he’s from New Orleans. Secondly, he is a great musician and singer. Third, he’s an actor. Fourth, he’s very funny and doesn’t take himself too seriously. Finally, he is committed to making a difference in the lives of people who usually get dismissed. Those are the reasons why I would like to swap lives with him for a week, now here’s the reasons why these are my reasons why. If you’ve read anything I’ve ever written then I don’t have to comment about why the New Orleans thing appeals to me. The musician and actor part have a particular interest to me because both are on my bucket list. I have a secret fantasy to perform music and sing publicly and to be in a play. I’d be willing to trade places with him for a week because I don’t think it would be too much of a change personality wise. I too love humor. I love to laugh and I love to make people laugh, and I certainly do not take myself seriously. In fact, I probably need to take myself a little more seriously to help me be more grown up. Lastly, I’d really like to have the connections and resources that he has in making a difference in peoples lives. He has done a tremendous amount of work raising money for and building the Musicians Village. If you haven’t heard of it, basically it is a community of homes being built in the lower 9th ward to provide a place to live for the many musicians who help to make New Orleans New Orleans. Despite being incredibly talented musicians, most of them live hand to mouth and will never be rich or famous, even though they are twice the musicians as those who are on the radio today. So there’s my celebrity life swap, who is yours and why?

Songs I Cannot Sing (Volume 7): Remind Me Dear Lord

Day 145 (Written Saturday May 5) ~ Jack Parks is the epitome of a song leader in my mind. He was my song leader all through childhood when I was growing up at East Hill, and then while I was the preacher there. He came to Fairview while I was preaching there too and led singing. He’s also led singing for me during many of the Gospel meetings I’ve preached. He is one of the men who oversees the Diana Singing in my hometown, and I’ve said on many occasions, I expect him to be the song leader in Heaven when I get there. One of the reasons I love Jack as a song leader is because he knows what songs to lead when I preach (my favorites are On Zion’s Glorious Summit) and which songs not to lead, namely, Remind Me Dear Lord. I love, love, love this song, but I cannot sing it. I can sing it, but I can’t get through it without succumbing to emotion. It is far too close to home. Jack knew not to lead it before I preached because it would always get me emotional. Though I was raised in the church, I became a prodigal for many years. They were hard years that enslaved me and broke me, and although I made it through, they left scars. I made it through by the grace of God and this song reminds me of that fact. “Roll back the curtain of memory now and then, show me where you brought me from, and where I could have been.” Enough said.

Walking The Tightrope Without A Safety Net

Day 142 (Written Wednesday May 2) ~ Life is a delicate balance. The past three days have taught me that lesson well. While sitting at the home of some good friends, She got very sick and I had to take her to the ER. She was then admitted to the hospital and spent the next three days there. While at the hospital with Jade on Tuesday, Reese had a car wreck. It was just a fender bender, no one was hurt, but it was still a scary moment for a dad. At that moment I was torn. Do I leave my wife in the hospital and go to my son or stay with my wife and leave my son to deal with a wreck alone? There was simply no good option. Oh, and did I mention that we are moving, as in pack up the whole house onto a truck, in two days? This is where the safety net comes into play. My mom and dad went to be with Reese and took care of all of the wreck stuff, friends from church helped us finish loading up the house and I was able to take care of Her. But Monday that will come to an end. Our family will be back in Tennessee and the four of us will be left in Georgia without our safety net of family and friends. If we fall we won’t have anyone to catch us, at least until we can weave a new safety net of friends down here. Something tells me that won’t be very hard to do.

A Conversation With My Teenage Self

Day 140 (Written Monday April 30) ~ Today I ran into my teenage self and we had a wonderful time catching up. The conversation was compelling, nostalgic, and long overdue. He reminded me of some things that I had completely forgotten and encouraged me to keep listening to my heart and to not stop following my songline. Let me back for a minute to explain. One of the best parts about moving is that you come across things you haven’t seen in forever. For me it was some things I had written when I was about 16. I started writing when I was in 4th grade (thank you Mrs. Franklin) and I haven’t stopped since. I have written short stories, poems, songs, articles, Bible class materials and have been trying/threatening to write a book for twenty years (bucket list item). While packing up the house I ran across a book I started writing when I was in the tenth grade. I sat down to read it and my teenage self reminded me of some things I had forgotten. Somewhere between 16 and 36 I convinced myself that staying in my hometown was what I truly wanted. Listening to him tonight, I know that just simply isn’t true. I’ll stop talking now and let him explain. (The following are excerpts from the book I began writing at 16, as spoken through the main character Dean Colbin). “All his remembered life three dreams had filled his head: flying planes, writing, and doing both by the sea....but Dean had decided he didn’t want to just dream anymore...Dean decided to do something about it.” “The next few months leading up to graduation Dean spent, not dreaming, but planning. He slowly and discreetly began feeding these plans to his parents...his mother knew her son well, and never doubted...he was pleased to discover his parents had no real objections to his taking off...he couldn’t wait.” “Graduation day finally came. Dean sat calmly in his seat, his eyes scanning the audience. It seemed the entire town had come out to watch. He didn’t mind. It gave him a chance to get a last look at everyone. Dean began to wonder which ones he would never see again...Dean couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to their friendship after he left...maybe he would drop in for a surprise visit between adventures, just to fill him in on his travels.” “He hesitantly walked up to the podium, took his diploma, and took one final look at the school, his teachers, friends, friends parents and his life. After thirteen years of hard work and problems he never thought he’d survive, it was all over. He was glad to be graduating, but he was at the same time terribly sad. His life was going to drastically change forever. Nothing was ever going to be the same again. In the middle of this sorrow, Dean smiled. His life wasn’t over, it was just beginning.” I believe this is what they call in literary terms, “foreshadowing.” When I started writing this book there was no such thing as a blog (there was no such thing as the internet for that matter), so the lead character wrote a daily journal. I’ll close my online “journal” for today with his words. “I finally did it. After years of threatening to run away I actually lived up to my promises. Whether or not I did the right thing will probably take a few decades to figure out. But hey, it feels like the right thing to do and the best time to do it.” Who would have ever thought that a 16 year old boy could teach a 36 year old man so much?

Love In The Library

Day 150 (Written Thursday May 10) ~

The title to this blog is very clever if you are a fan of Jimmy Buffett, because it is taken (like half a dozen others of my blogs) from the title of a Jimmy Buffett song. The song tells the story of a man and woman “falling in love” in complete silence in a library. Let me tell you how I put my own spin on that today. Since Friday (moving day) we have been “gettin’ at it” nonstop. We’ve worked very hard from early morning until late evening to get the house in order and we are about 90% done. Today Reese and Kase decided to spend the day at Georgia Christian School (where they will be attending this fall) to see what it was like, so Jade and I decided to take the day off and go on a day date. No real plans, nothing important needing to be done, just wandering and meandering the streets of Valdosta to see what we could see. It was such a great day. We shared a basil pesto grilled cheese at an organic food store, went to a record store, checked out several interesting shops, visited three seafood stores and learned where I can buy fresh shrimp, blue crabs, oysters and even conch, ate lunch at a really cool/delicious restaurant (Steel Magnolias: shrimp po boy, sweet potato fries, sliced pork sandwich with bleu goat cheese and arugula, with parmesan truffle oil fries) and sat under the oaks on the courthouse lawn and listened to a band with one of the most diverse, yet cool set lists I’ve ever heard (Foo Fighters, Kenny Chesney, Kings Of Leon and Simple Minds, ‘Don’t You Forget About Me’, which they dedicated to Molly Ringwald). We met the boys back home and they brought us buy one get one free shakes from Chik-Fil-A. It was so nice to spend the day doing nothing but hanging out with my favorite person in the world. That’s the love portion of the story, here is the library part. For four months I’ve been updating my blog at the Giles County Public Library, a place I have visited regularly since I was in 8th grade. I love that library. Since we don’t yet have the internet hooked up at the house, and won’t until after summer (no sense paying for something you won’t be home to use), I decided to check out (pun totally intended) our Lake Park library. It is literally across the road from our house and I LOVE IT. It is small, but what it lacks in size it makes up for with character. For starters, look at the pic attached to this post and you will see what I am sitting and looking at as I type these words. I am positioned at a large table in front of a wall sized window that overlooks the Francis Lake. Nice. On top of that, while I was looking at the DVD section, I found The Silencing Of God by my brother in Christ, Dave Miller. How cool. This night is going to end with some grilled hamburgers and popcorn on the couch for family movie night. Oh, did I mention, that in the morning we are going to take a day trip to Seaside, Florida and drive back home along the Emerald Coast on Highway 30A? I’m going to enjoy this weekend with the family because Monday morning it’s time to get to work.

It’s Been A Lovely Cruise

Day 144 (Written Friday May 4) ~ For those of you who frequently read my blog, it must seem like my whole world revolves around food and music. I have to admit, both are a pretty big part of my life. Blame it on too much tv as a kid, but I’ve always viewed my life through a soundtrack. Have you ever noticed that in movies the music playing in the background is meant to tell you how to feel at that moment (happy, sad, scared, angry, suspenseful)? I guess I feel that is how my real life should be. My life, at least in my mind, has come with a soundtrack accompanying it. When significant endings come into my life, I find myself reflecting back upon one song in particular that summarizes so much of what I have and am feeling. That song is “Lovely Cruise” by Jimmy Buffett. As a disclaimer, let me say that although the song contains the lyrics, “Drink it up, this one’s for you”, I choose to interpret, for my purposes, this to refer to a toast raised of a milkshake.

“Drink it up, this one’s for you, it’s been a lovely cruise. I’m sorry it’s ended, oh it’s sad, but it’s true, it’s been a lovely cruise. These moments we’re left with, may you always remember, these moments were shared by a few. There’s wind in our hair and there’s water in our shoes, honey, it’s been a lovely cruise....we bid our farewell much too soon, it’s been a lovely cruise.” Today, 12 generations in my family and 36 years of my life come to an end. My ancestor came to Giles County before Tennessee was even a state. My two sons make 12 consecutive generations of our family to be born and raised here in Giles County. I spent two years in Memphis in school, but other than that, I’ve never, not lived in Pulaski. That all changes today. By the time you are reading this, I am in a Penske moving van, heading 500 miles down the interstate to my new home, Lake Park, Georgia. I will not pretend that my heart isn’t breaking because it is. It will never be the same again. When I return, it will be as a visitor. I strongly doubt I will ever live here again. Each time I return it will be a little more different. New people will live here, old people will have died, new businesses will open and old ones will close. I love my home town. I love the people in this community. I have a million memories that I relieve simply by driving from my house to the grocery store or the post office. This is where I met my wife, where we went on our first date, where my children were born and so many other things. I love being able to leave my car running when I run in to the grocery store without worrying about it being stolen. I love store owners who let me get my purchase even when I forget my wallet, trusting that I will come in later and pay for it. I love being called by my name in the post office. I love walking into Reeve’s and having the ladies in the deli being making me a chocolate milkshake without me even having to ask. I love everyone in town being at the high school football game on Friday nights. I love going to Wal Mart and seeing everyone you know. I love you Pulaski, and I’m going to miss you. It’s been a lovely cruise. PS - I can’t wait to see you in June!

One For The Road

Day 143 (Written Thursday May 3) ~ I’ve been asked a dozen times what I’m going to miss the most when I leave home. Obviously it is my parents and family and friends, but beyond that, it’s likely to be Friday afternoons on the square, at the library and going to Reeve’s for a milkshake. For nearly 15 years I’ve been making the trip to the square on Friday’s to take the radio program I did to WKSR. While uptown I would walk the square, talk to people, go to Reeve’s for my special milkshake and then drop by the library. I am going to miss that. I came to look forward to it so much. I always hated when it was raining on Fridays because it dampened the mood (pun intended). My favorite time was either early spring or early fall when the temperature was just right, the color of the sunlight was perfect and the colors were vibrant. I will miss that. Today I went and did that for one last time (hopefully not forever, but certainly as a resident), although it was a Thursday and not a Friday (tomorrow I will be driving a U Haul to Georgia). My milkshakes at Reeve’s have a special recipe that they don’t normally use and I ain’t telling what it is. Let me just say that I have to teach the ladies up there how to make it, which they have always so graciously done. I got one last milkshake at it was good and it will have to do me until at least June 1st, which is a Friday and I will be back in town and will be heading straight to Reeve’s. When I walked out of Reeve’s I decided to take a good, long look at the square and soak it all in. While I did, I noticed a heart shaped hole in the clouds in the sky above the courthouse. A fitting send off for me since there will forever be a Pulaski shaped hole in my heart.

Life Comes At You Fast

Day 141 (Written Tuesday May 1) ~Have you seen the Allstate Insurance commercials where a person or family is going about their daily business when BLAM!, some trouble befalls them? The tagline is, “Life comes at you fast, that’s why there’s Allstate.” I love those commercials, but I don’t like living them. Our gameplan for this final week in Pulaski was supposed to go like this: Monday eat with friends, Tuesday load outside furniture/stuff from shed in the trailer, Wednesday clean house, Thursday pick up moving truck and load it, Friday begin our new life in Georgia. That was the plan, this is the reality. Monday Jade is taken to Rapid Care, Jade is sent to ER, Jade is admitted to the hospital, Jade spends next few days in the hospital. Tuesday Reese wrecks his truck and is taken to the doctor. I have no idea what the rest of this week holds, but I hope it involves Jade going home, me loading the trailer and getting moved to Georgia by Friday. Tune in next week for the conclusion to this tale and the beginning of another exciting adventure with the Brittons.

The Lord Is My.....Bodyguard?

Day 139 (Written Sunday April 29) ~ Disclaimer: This isn’t intended to be a sermon, Bible study or theological treatise. It’s just one man’s musings, ramblings and thinking out loud as he tries to take the emotions in his heart and the thoughts in his head and process them by getting them out of his head and into words. Lately I have failed horribly in my faith. I haven’t actively been doing something overtly wrong, I’ve just had a terrible, terrible attitude and outlook. There are a number of factors that contributed to this attitude (tired, traveling, moving, etc), but none of them are justified or legitimate. Honestly, though, it’s much more than that. It hasn’t just been an attitude, my faith has been beaten up. I know from the book of Job that it is entirely in the scope of possibility for Satan to launch an attack against individuals and I truly believe he does this at times. I have to wonder if he’s put me in his cross hairs recently. Nothing on the scale of Job has happened to “justify” this attitude, but I feel like he’s been after me. I have a theory as to why this might be the case. We are in the midst of some pretty big changes in our lives that have required some serious faith on our part. We have done this because we believe there is an almost unlimited potential for doing a tremendous amount of good for a massive number of people, and I think this troubles our adversary immensely. If it be the case that he has been trying to derail the train before it can leave the station and begin picking up steam, he’s done a pretty good job. So much so that a couple of days ago I threw in the towel and asked for help. I probably should have done this a long time ago, but at least I did it. I asked God to “get him off of me.” My prayer (if you can even call it that, it was actually more like a cry for help), was simple, “Father, Satan has got me pinned down and I can’t get him off of me. He’s trying to bury me and I can’t stop him. Please get him off of me and get him away from me so that I can get back on my feet and catch my breath.” You now what happened? He did, and all I can say is thank you. It feels good to know that He has my back. “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble” (Psalm 46:1).

This Is How A Perfect Day Ends

Day 138 (Written Saturday April 28) ~It begins with time alone with her. Then it includes lunch with the youngest. It moves into an afternoon spent reading in the sunshine and breeze. It proceeds to accomplishing some needed tasks (cleaning out the attic). It begins drawing to a close with a long ride with the oldest, singing along with Adam Hood and The Doors together with the windows rolled down. It ends with one of the best meals you’ve ever eaten in your life (Coyote Blues for shrimp and crawfish burritos and pecan crusted crab cakes with mango salsa). And just before the lights go out, catching up on your blog. I’m sure this day could have been better, but it was close enough to perfect for me.

Songs I Cannot Sing (Volume 7): The Shape Of Things

Day 137 (Written Friday April 27) ~ Maybe its because I’m getting older and more sentimental with age, or maybe I’m just a big cry baby, but more and more I’m discovering songs that I cannot sing without getting emotional. It happened again to me today while listening to some music with my oldest. The song, “The Shape Of Things” by Adam Hood came on the iPod and within a few lines my face was contorting in that we it does when we try to hold back our tears. I think the reason it struck such a chord with me is because of the very autobiographical content of these lyrics. Adam Hood and I are about the same age, have similar upbringings and lifestyles that take us all over the place and away from family and home frequently and for extended periods of time. I actually met him several years ago and he was a really nice guy. He even let me call my boys and got on the phone with them and said hey to them and gave them a sticker and autographed it. Anyway, these lyrics hit close to home and make me sad, proud, scared and motivated. Check the song out sometime. “I’ve been trying hard to hold up my end of the deal, running back to a well that’s running dry. Yes, I’ve had a hard time keeping up with everything, but I guess I’ve had a lot on my mind. And it shows on my face that it’s changing me, and everyone’s so glad to point it out. And the shape of things keeps moving but I try to stay the same and I hope some day it’ll all come back around. If you’d stat me down at seventeen and stared me in the face and said this is where you’ll be at 35, I’d have run like mad the other way till I ran out of steam ‘cause a dream is more than how I survive. I’m not above needing forgiveness. I’m not above amazing grace. Show me someone afraid of living and I’ll show you someone who’s never made mistakes.”

The Gospel According To Taylor Swift

Day 136 (Written Thursday April 26) ~ In the interest of full disclosure it needs to be said that I am not a Taylor Swift fan. I have been to a Taylor Swift concert (your welcome Reese and Anna Harper) and I’m still not a fan. I understand why teenage girls adore her, but I am not a teenage girl. I do not consider her to be country, but pop with a little fiddle and banjo thrown in to make it down home. I do respect her for writing her own songs, bearing her heart and, as Mark Twain suggested, “write what you know.” I also appreciate that to date she appears to be modest and isn’t trampy. She’s somewhat the anti-Britney Spears. I do, however, love her song “Mean.” I mean it, I actually like that song a lot. And I applaud her for handling her critics in a way that allows her to express the hurt she no doubt feels at the awful things said about her, while at the same time not stooping to their level with personal attacks, and making tons of money off of it to boot. Well played Taylor Swift. Well played. Here’s why I like the song: it calls attention to, and aptly describes the hurt that words can inflict upon people, while appropriately rebuking the ones casting the verbal stones. The old nursery rhyme “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me” is a big ole lie. The wounds I have received from sticks and stones have always healed but the words I’ve been hit with don’t ever fully go away. The saddest part is that Taylor Swift’s message could describe a lot of “good Christian folks” who know better and are called to a higher standard. Did you know 13 times in the New Testament Christians are told to “love one another” (John 13:34; 15:12,17; Romans 13:8; 1 Thessalonians 4:9; 1 Peter 1:22; 1 John 3:11, 23; 4:7, 11-12; 2 John 1:5). The next time you think about saying mean or hurtful things about someone, especially a fellow Christian, ask yourself, “Why do I want to say something like this?” If that doesn’t stop you, read Matthew 5:22. If that doesn’t stop you, I guess nothing will. But maybe your toes will get stepped on every time you hear Taylor Swift sing, “You with your words like knives and swords and weapons that you use against me. You have knocked me off my feet again, got me feeling like I’m nothing. You, with your voice like nails on a chalkboard, calling me out when I’m wounded. You, picking on the weaker man....You, with your switching sides and your walk by lies and your humiliation. You, have pointed out my flaws again as if I don’t already see them. I’ll walk with my head down trying to block you out ‘cause I’ll never impress you, I just wanna feel ok again. Well, you can take me down with just one single blow but you don’t know what you don’t know. Someday I’ll be living in a big old city and all you’re ever gonna be is mean. Why you wanna be so mean?” Taylor Swift, I may not be a fan, but I will say Amen!

When I Think About Cheating....

Day 135 (Written Wednesday April 25) ~ On December 31, 1994 I made a vow to Jade Maxey that I would keep myself only unto her for as long as we both shall live. In the 18 years since I have never once wavered from that vow, and frankly it’s never even been an issue. That being said, past faithfulness does not ensure future fidelity. Twenty years of purity can be defiled with one night of lust, and if you think it can’t ever happen to you, then you must be purer in heart than David, stronger than Samson and wiser than Solomon, because they all betrayed their spouses. Truth is, it can happen to you and it will happen to you if you do not keep your guard up. And for the record, I’m not just talking to us guys. For every man who’s ever cheated on his wife, there is a woman who also cheated with a married man, and statistically wives are cheating almost as much as husbands these days. The title for this blog comes from a powerful country music song by Gretchen Wilson. In the song she sings to her husband, “When I think about cheating, I just think about you leaving, and how my world would fall to pieces, if you took your love away. Even when I’m tempted by some stranger, no there’s never any danger, I just think about you leaving, when I think about cheating.” I thought about this song tonight during Bible class (no the song leader didn’t lead it). I sat down on the pew beside an old friend who, several years ago, made the worst mistake of his life....he cheated on his wife. Many years later he is a broken, shell of the man he once was. His wife, devastated by his infidelity, divorced him. His children, crushed by his betrayal of their mother, have little respect for him. The man I used to see sitting with his wife and children in worship, with a smile on his face, now sits alone in the back. He is still as polite as ever, and as faithful in attendance too, but his face bears the scars of pain, grief and loneliness. I have no doubt that he has received God's grace and forgiveness, but he still had to pay for his sins. He’s a good guy who made a terrible mistake and it cost him everything of value in his life. I wanted to write this blog to speak to anyone who might be thinking, entertaining, contemplating the possibility of cheating. Chances are, at this stage, you are only thinking of the “fun” or “excitement” or “pleasure” you might experience, but I’m pleading with you to look down the road at what comes next. Pain, suffering, sadness, shame, guilt, loneliness. I hope that if the temptation ever crosses my path, in the face of a potential temptress I will see the face of my friend, so full of pain and regret, “when I think about cheating.”

My Favorite Poems (Volume 5): Seaweed by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Day 134 (Written Tuesday April 24) ~ My love for this poem is simple: I love the sea and I love the rhythm he uses for this poem. It just flows out of your mouth from one syllable to the next. d When descends on the Atlantic The gigantic Storm-wind of the equinox, Landword in his wrath he scourges The toiling surges, Laden with seaweed from the rocks: From Bermuda’s reefs; from edges Of sunken ledges, In some far-off, bright Azore; From Bahama, and the dashing Silver-flashing Surges of San Salvador; From the tumbling surf, that buries The Orkneyan skerries, Answering the hoarse Hebrides; And from wrecks of ships, and drifting Spars, uplifting On the desolate, rainy seas; Ever drifting, drifting, drifting On the shifting Currents of the restless main; Till in sheltered coves, and reaches Of sandy beaches, All have found repose again.

Hardest Parts of Marriage: When You Disagree

Day 133 (Written Monday April 23) ~ When decisions need to be made in a marriage there are three possible scenarios: #1 - You both agree with one another; #2 - One of the two of you doesn’t care what the decision is; #3 - You disagree with one another on what the decision is. #1 and #2 are smooth sailing, but navigating #3 is like having a row boat in a hurricane. Rest assured, there will be plenty of times when you disagree. Sometimes it will be over little things like what to do with the extra $50 you have (save it or spend it), where to go on vacation (mountains or the beach), what to do with junk you don’t want/need (trash it or have a yard sale)? However, when you find yourselves disagreeing, little things aren’t so little anymore. Other times you will disagree over big stuff. How do we discipline our children (ground them, spank them, lecture them), what do we do about housing (buy or rent), what about our jobs (will the wife work outside the home or at home)? You know how in movies when two people fall in love they depict it by showing fireworks exploding? Well, when two people who are in love disagree on these big issues, different kinds of fireworks can go off. Here are a few tips that might help you navigate the minefield of disagreeing, or at least keep your marriage from blowing up. #1 - Remember you are both on the same team. In a football game the team on offense can score by running the ball or passing it, but no one will score if they can’t decide how to score or if everyone is out for themselves. It takes a team working together to cross the goal line and when they do, however they do, they all score. Remember the two of you are actually one. If one succeeds, you both succeed. When you find yourself trying to “win” you are definitely going to lose, even if you win the argument. If you decide to go with your spouses decision, go with it fully, not reluctantly or waiting for it to fail so that you can say, “See I told you so.” Go to battle, make your point, defend your reason, reach a consensus and then move forward together, whether it is a success or failure. #2 - Remember your spouse has a valid point of view, even if it is different than yours. It is always a struggle to acknowledge that our way isn’t the right way or the only way. By nature we believe the way we do things is right, otherwise we would do it differently. There are some areas where there can only be one right answer (2 + 2 = 4, not anything else; there is one God, Ephesians 4:4-6, not many), but there are many others where there is no “right” answer (cucumbers are delicious, cucumbers are gross; pink walls are pretty, pink walls look like Pepto Bismal). Carefully consider if the difference is a matter of right/wrong or simply opinion. If it is a matter of right and wrong, lovingly and respectfully seek to educate the other person rather than taking an “I’m right and you’re wrong” approach. If it is a matter of opinion, ask yourself, is my opinion more important to me than my spouses feelings? #3 - Remember your spouses different perspective can be a good thing. There is a reason the old saying “Two heads are better than one” is an old saying....because it’s true. The Bible says it this way, “in the multitude of counselors there is safety” (Proverbs 11:14). Because men and women are different they are capable of seeing the same thing from very different perspectives. Men tend to be more adept at basic problem solving skills, while women usually are more attuned to more subtle details. Dad is usually good at assembling bicycles or Barbie Dreamhouses on Christmas Eve, while mom can detect the different shades of white, such as ivory, vanilla, eggshell, chalk and plain old white. To most men, its either white or it ain’t. Point being: your spouse can often see things you simply cannot see and can help you have a more complete understanding. I actually asked Jade to help contribute to me writing this blog, but we decided not to collaborate since we couldn’t agree on how to solve the problem of disagreeing with your spouse. Her suggestion was, “Remember, she is always right.” But I don’t agree ;)