There are some seasons in life that we have been trained culturally to respond to. You know the ones I'm talking about: we "need" a vacation in the summer. Change seems to come easily in the early fall when we used to start school. We become more generous in our giving at Christmas.
And so it isn't very shocking that during this season I find myself being more aware of the things that I am grateful for. Well, maybe it is since apparently stores are trying to skip over Thanksgiving and go straight from Halloween to Christmas these days. Regardless, I like getting caught up in this season. I really look forward to Christmas, and have to refrain from putting up my tree on November 1, but I also really like to revel in the month of November. I love to think of the things that God has blessed me with, things that I did nothing to deserve.
Sure, I have typical life drama. I have tension to deal with. I have to navigate unsure waters like everyone else. But it is in seasons like this one that I'm reminded that even though I have to "deal" with life, I also have the great pleasure of experiencing life.
There is pain, but there is rejoicing. There is suffering, but there is relief. There is heartache, but there is love. There are chores, but .... well, there are chores. Still, I have so many things to be thankful for.
This morning, the number one thing I'm thankful for is my ability to just sit down and have my morning coffee with God.
What about you? What are you thankful for today?
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Certainty in the Uncertainty
I wasn't expecting it to happen. It was a normal day on Spring Break last year. I was in my normal, overly excited mood, waiting for some of my middle school students to arrive at the church to help babysit some of the staff's kids.
But then I heard the news: The mother of one of my students had been taken to the hospital that day, and the doctors didn't know what was wrong yet. Within a couple days we heard the diagnosis: leukemia.
I remember exactly where I was standing when I heard. I stood right outside the gym, as another parent told me the news. And immediately I flashed back nearly 20 years, to the day that my father told me that my mother had cancer.
As a kid I had complete faith in the doctors. After all, when you're sick you go to the doctor and he makes you better. There was no doubt in my young mind.
But there was fear. What if I was wrong? What if the doctor made a mistake? What if we couldn't handle my mom being sick for a long time? What if things didn't turn out like I thought they would?
Most days I was able to block out my fear, to live a relatively normal life, considering the situation. But then the fear would return. Sometimes I could keep it away, sometimes I couldn't. But in the midst of the fear there was hope, and trust.
When I was that young, my hope and trust were in the doctors. Later, when I was in college and my mother's cancer returned, my hope and trust had found a new place to live. At that point I realized that the doctors could only do so much, and that I had to put my hope and trust in God.
It was still hard, and it was even scarier than the first go round.
All the emotions from those experiences came flooding back as I heard the news of my student's mom. I worried for how this young lady, still so innocent in many ways, would be feeling. I wondered how she would respond. And I began to pray that she would find a way to learn to have her hope and trust in God through this horrible experience.
It has been many months since the diagnosis, and her mom is still battling for her life. There are still no certain answers. And my emotions are still in the same place that they were when I was in 5th grade, and in college, and when I heard their news for the first time.
Still, one thing more than the fear has remained constant: my hope in what God can do through this situation. I have no idea what the outcome will be. I pray everyday for their family, and for God to perform a miracle.
I can't predict the future. I can't know what the outcome will be, or the impact that this will have on their family. But I do know from my experience that God will remain faithful, even when we don't understand.
For current updates or to donate financially to the Watson family, visit http://blessthewatsons.webs.com/
But then I heard the news: The mother of one of my students had been taken to the hospital that day, and the doctors didn't know what was wrong yet. Within a couple days we heard the diagnosis: leukemia.
I remember exactly where I was standing when I heard. I stood right outside the gym, as another parent told me the news. And immediately I flashed back nearly 20 years, to the day that my father told me that my mother had cancer.
As a kid I had complete faith in the doctors. After all, when you're sick you go to the doctor and he makes you better. There was no doubt in my young mind.
But there was fear. What if I was wrong? What if the doctor made a mistake? What if we couldn't handle my mom being sick for a long time? What if things didn't turn out like I thought they would?
Most days I was able to block out my fear, to live a relatively normal life, considering the situation. But then the fear would return. Sometimes I could keep it away, sometimes I couldn't. But in the midst of the fear there was hope, and trust.
When I was that young, my hope and trust were in the doctors. Later, when I was in college and my mother's cancer returned, my hope and trust had found a new place to live. At that point I realized that the doctors could only do so much, and that I had to put my hope and trust in God.
It was still hard, and it was even scarier than the first go round.
All the emotions from those experiences came flooding back as I heard the news of my student's mom. I worried for how this young lady, still so innocent in many ways, would be feeling. I wondered how she would respond. And I began to pray that she would find a way to learn to have her hope and trust in God through this horrible experience.
It has been many months since the diagnosis, and her mom is still battling for her life. There are still no certain answers. And my emotions are still in the same place that they were when I was in 5th grade, and in college, and when I heard their news for the first time.
Still, one thing more than the fear has remained constant: my hope in what God can do through this situation. I have no idea what the outcome will be. I pray everyday for their family, and for God to perform a miracle.
I can't predict the future. I can't know what the outcome will be, or the impact that this will have on their family. But I do know from my experience that God will remain faithful, even when we don't understand.
For current updates or to donate financially to the Watson family, visit http://blessthewatsons.webs.com/
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Middle School Humility
Tuesday night in dv8 was, well, an experience. Of course it always is. I never really know what to expect. No matter how much I plan and prepare, there is something completely unpredictable about student ministry. A huge part of the unpredictable-ness being the students.
This week one of the boys decided to act like, well, a middle school boy. He was acting up, going a little bit crazy, and not really listening. I had corrected him, then cut him some slack and let him (and his friend who was going along with everything he did) participate in the game we were about to play even though they hadn't exactly been listening up to that point. I'm all for kids having fun.
But then, about a minute into the game chaos broke out. What was a fun, simple competition turned into all out insanity as this young man and his friends threw caution to the wind and disregarded every rule of the game, and everything I had said. After the girls won the game (they were they ones who actually competed by the rules) and the boys had cleaned up marshmallows from the gym floor twice (yeah, I told you they went insane), we continued our evening in small groups. Things kind of evened out at that point, and went back to a normal level of unpredictability.
Until the end.
After things were wrapping up for the night, the young man who had been the instigator of all the chaos came up to me and apologized. And it totally caught me off guard. I was shocked to see him approach me, and admit what he did was wrong. There was a genuineness about him that I hadn't seen before. A sincerity in his expression.
Looking back on it the thing that really hits me is the humility it took for him to come to me. I didn't approach him to talk to him about acting responsibly, or respecting authority. I didn't try to get him to repent. I didn't even initiate a conversation. It was all him.
I wonder how often when I've been in the wrong I've just swept things under the rug, just tried to ignore it and hope everyone else would too. How many times have I tried to avoid even admitting I'm wrong, not to mention avoiding the consequences of my actions. How many times has my pride kept me from repenting, not just to God but to the people I've wronged? Unfortunately it's happened many more times than I'd like.
Humility isn't an easy thing to come by. It is so contradictory to our nature. But the damage inflicted by our wrongdoings can be so much less, and healing can come so much sooner, when we are willing to humble ourselves and admit we were wrong.
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