Band-aids for Haiti

This past fall my mother-in-law and father-in-law began working for a mission organization in Columbus, OH called Lifeline Christian Mission (www.lifeline.org). They have served for years in one of that mission organizations' first loves, Haiti, even while they were working at a church in Wilmington, OH but were given an opportunity to serve with them full-time and stepped into that adventure.

When the earthquake struck a few weeks ago my mother-in-law was in Haiti with a team of 57 other women (my father-in-law was to join her that same weekend but obviously didn't make it). She and her team were eventually evacuated and are now safe back home in Ohio.

Jen and I were concerned at times about their safety (obviously) and we talked somewhat freely about our concerns for them and for the people of Haiti. Our discussions happened in front of our 2 1/2 year old daughters without much thought...they were still putting ears where arms should be on Mr. Potato Head or trying to get their corn to stay on their fork for the long, shaky trip to their mouths. But kids are perceptive.

Our girls will tell you (and even pray for) what is happening in "the Haiti". Our first conversation would have sounded something like this.

Us: Where is Grandma?
Our daughters: In the Haiti.
Us: What do you think she is doing?
Our daughters: Giving out band-aids.
Us: Why is she giving out band-aids?
Our daughters: Because the people fall down and hurt their knee.
[Pause]
Our daughters: Mommy, I want to go to the Haiti. I give band-aids, too.

I pray that our daughters will always have a heart for the things that break the heart of God.

Lost

This past Sunday I had an experience that makes any parent tremble. Jen, the girls and I were in the Fireside Room at Parkside's Salem Road Campus preparing to leave (winter means that just getting jackets on can take a short forever). I left to go get my Bible and notes from the stage and made a few passing comments to people as I made my way back to the lobby. I met Jen there asking me if one of our 2 1/2 year old twin daughters was with me. Upon saying no, Jen left our other two daughters with me as she took a quick glance at the elevator to see if she'd gone there (I'm not sure why our daughters love the elevator...they just do.) She returned to say that she wasn't at the elevator either. At that point I leave our other daughters with friends and begin to help her search. I'm running down hallways and looking in rooms with a vigor that it's hard to describe unless you've lost a child before. Very soon, Bart Steever (our Discipleship Minister) came around the corner with our daughter not far behind (she wouldn't let him pick her up or hold her hand). The entire episode probably lasted all of two minutes, but they felt like two years.

As I said, it is very difficult to describe the sense of worry--absolute panic--that swept through my body like a tidal wave. I was immediately concerned that she was wandering out into the busy parking lot or, worse, had been abducted. It's funny how your brain waves come in torrents in times like this. Stomach in knots. Whole body tense. It's wretched.

I was SO glad to see my daughter again. SO relieved. That feeling of relief is probably equally difficult to describe. I held her pretty tightly for longer than she liked.

Later Sunday, once the panic had subsided, I started to think about the situation from a different perspective. And I wished that my sense of panic and pain for God's children who have wandered far away from a sustaining relationship with Him was just as deep and real. I wish I ran down hallways to reach those who were lost. I wish my stomach was just as uneasy every day with the reality that an entire world around me needs to find their Father in the same way that my daughter needed me. Nah...that's not even true. They need their Father much worse.

Light of the World

There is a candle in my office with a deep well at the top where the wick is. I've been burning it a lot this week (it smells like cinnamon and Christmas) and I've noticed that the flame makes the top very pliable. In fact, it's been fun to play with the wax at the top--pushing it one way and the next--as I've been working on this week's sermon.

It's the eve of the day that we celebrate the birth of the Son of God, whose coming has made it possible for our hearts and lives to be changed. As with the candle wax in my office, may we also be malleable and changed as we draw closer to the Light of the World.

Stuck in Romans 12

I'm stuck. I've been reading and rereading Romans 12 for about the past week (at least I think it has been a week...keep in mind that I have a newborn baby so my relationship to time is seriously altered). While the first few verses are highly memorized and get much play, I'm caught most by the end of that chapter. Simple sentences. First-grade-reading-level sentences. But the impact is amazing. And I struggle on varying levels with just about every simple, weighty sentence Paul throws at that early Roman church. I find that it isn't the hard theological arguments that trip me up but the simple, you-know-what-this-means stuff.

Retweet

I recently started using Twitter. Not so much to say "On my way to the grocery store" as for the challenge to basically blog in about 10 words. While I don't mind filling people in on what's going on in my life, the tweets (not making this up...that's what comments are called on Twitter) that are most influential for me are the ones that reveal something about the tweetererer (okay, I did make that word up). There is also a feature on Twitter called retweeting. You retweet something that you read from someone else on Twitter. It then appears on your page with the original author's name attached.

Today I placed on Twitter (and, therefore, Facebook...mine are linked...wonders of technology, I know) the following comment: "sometimes it all comes down to wanting to be retweeted." Though I think a few people simply took that as a cheap attempt by me to get retweeted, my intention was different. Deeper, I think.

The more I'm around all of us who are broken the more opportunities that I have to notice how we want to be significant. We want to be noticed. "Retweeting" wouldn't exist if our basic nature didn't cry out for it. Notice me and think that I'm worth something. We clamor for status. How else do you explain couture jeans and foods that take 10 words to claim organic status? Perhaps Halloween lawn ornaments fit into this category, too. And, lest the rest of us be left out, interrupting others in conversation, name-dropping, living beyond our means, withholding affirmation from others and the like all usually have something to do with being noticed and ensuring status. For me, I also trip over my desires to be thought of as "wise" or "articulate".

The Fall is an ugly thing, isn't it?

I didn't so much want my tweet posted over everyone else's twitter page. I was just shooting to communicate that (in ways I wish I didn't have to admit) I want to be noticed, too. I want to be noticed in this world that is passing away to nothing.

I wish I didn't. Jesus needs to teach me more about his sufficiency because I get caught listening to this culture telling me sufficiency comes more from what I know or own than who I am: a child of God being changed into His likeness more each day.

Expecting

As some of you may know, my wife and I are expecting our third daughter in about 2 months. In fact, this weekend we have a hospital tour scheduled. The reality is setting in more and more with each passing day.

But when I say that I'm expecting, I mean more than just a baby. I'm expecting a lot more. I'm expecting to feel the immense stress of dad-ing three daughters (the weight of that seems oppressive and intimidating even as I type it). I'm expecting to be scrutinized by three pairs of eyes for the rest of my life: my relationship with Jesus, how I treat their mom, how I treat them, how I handle my temper or my money or my time. I'm expecting to set an example of how each of them should expect to be treated by guys. I'm expecting to laugh. I'm expecting to cry. And I'm expecting to be surrounded by crying (four women in one household...even a cat that at least used to be a female). I'm expecting a lot.

Funny thing is that I'm not even remotely smart enough to expect more than 2% of all that is ahead.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Almost There!

Tonight we'll meet together with the River Campus launch team and organize, sort, prep, organize, sort, and prep some more. Before the evening winds down we will have completely loaded the trailer that houses all the supplies and resources for the new campus in the East End/Columbia Tusculum/Linwood neighborhoods. So it should be both energizing and fun! Come on down to the Crossing at the Salem Road Campus if you want to lend some muscle tonight.

The launch of the new campus is still a few weeks off - September 27th. Between now and then we plan to have one Sunday in which we go down to set everything up (Sept. 6), one Sunday that both campuses are together again to pray over the launch team (Sept. 13), one Sunday that will serve as a practice (Sept. 20), and then it's time to launch! Those dates have always loomed way off in the distance. We get more excited and humbled as each day draws us closer.

Parkside (BOTH campuses) has a big, God-sized challenge ahead of ourselves. Months and years of praying, seeking God's will, and preparation have led us to this point...let's see what God brings in the next few weeks, months and years.