I'm reflecting on the year 2012, how eventful it has been. The year began with my father in the hospital in Augusta, undergoing a triple heart bypass. He has recovered remarkably well in the months since, but the whole ordeal made me realize how the years have flown by. Both of my parents, though in good health, are aging, and that is hard for me to accept. Life is fragile, years are fleeting.
To further that point, my dear friend and brother in Christ, Aaron Smith, died in May after a short but painful struggle with cancer. Aaron had only become a believer in Christ a few years ago, and our old high school acquaintance had become a close friendship. His passing broke my heart, but I rest in the knowledge that I'll see him again.
My wife and I celebrated 25 years of marriage together this past summer, and I cannot imagine spending my life with anyone else but her. I would not change a single moment of our years together, except to have been an even better husband to her. She has been everything I could have asked for or imagined in a life soul mate.
I bought a second motorcycle in September, entering the world of sport bike riding, then promptly traded with a guy named Mike who wanted it. I got two bikes in the trade, a Triumph Sprint and a Kawasaki Vulcan 1500. I am working to get the Vulcan running again, and intend to sell it, starting my side income of flipping motorcycles.
I have begun to write more this past year, articles for publication in motorcycle and ministry magazines. I have four submitted to several national motorcycle periodicals, and two for a national children's ministry journal. I have been working on a book as well, with another in mind for down the road. I hope to parlay my love for and ability to write, into some side profit as well. We'll see where it all goes in the coming year.
So as we close 2012 and prepare for the new year, in spite of the uncertainty and gathering darkness in the world around us, I am hopeful, expectant. I'll turn 50 in the coming year, and hoping to make a coast-to-coast road trip with my childhood friend Lyle, also turning 50 this year. I'll turn 30 years of the ministry in 2013,  and God may open some new opportunities to serve Him as well. I don't know what the new year holds, but I know Who holds the new year. He has led me this far, has opened so many doors, and I will follow Him into 2013.

 

In light of the horror that took place last Friday up in Conn., I would like to share some thoughts from John Eldredge, author of “Wild at Heart”, who gave these insights-

Evil struck again.

And while I would prefer a solemn silence—the only good thing Job’s counselors offered him—so many unhelpful things are being said and suggested around the Newtown massacre I found myself compelled to write. Because the question of evil may be the greatest question the world faces today. How do we deal with evil? How do we prevent such tragedy?

It all depends on what you think is causing this.

I hope you will forgive my honesty, but I do not understand the shock. The grief I understand. The speechlessness, the staggering, profound sorrow, the overwhelming sense of violation—these I understand. We are reeling from yet another assault of darkness. But our shock reveals something else altogether, something even more dangerous than armed violence.

I am describing a naiveté about the world that Christians, at least, should not be toying with.

You would think that after a century which included the Holocaust, Stalin, the Khmer Rouge, and the rise of terrorism to name but a few, we would have been cured from our childish ideas about evil. You would think that after any one of the hundreds of atrocities of the past few years, we would have been cured. Rwanda, 9/11, human trafficking—what is it going to take?

I was heartened at first by the early words of Connecticut Governor Dan Malloy when he said, “Evil visited this community today.” That is exactly right; that is precisely what happened. But the clarity—he may have only been using a metaphor—was quickly lost in the subsequent media barrage. Our leaders are reacting to the Newtown massacre by calling for gun control; how unspeakably foolish. Now, this is not an essay on gun control; I am speaking to our understanding of our situation and the forces we are dealing with. But the cries for gun control reveal the naiveté—they are crying for the trees to be cut down while they ignore the wind.

It is this naiveté regarding evil that is the crisis of our age. And it is most dangerous.

For the Christian knows certain things about the world, things we must never ever lose hold of. We know from whence evil comes; we know what to do about it. We know—or we are supposed to know—that we live in a world at war; we are living in the midst of a very real and extremely brutal battle with the kingdom of darkness. While most Christians are still playing at happy little life (and angry at God for “allowing” terrible things to happen), the Scriptures continually warn us of a great evil power, who rules the world, whom we must contend with. “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 6:12). In other words, with the demonic.

We seem utterly devoted to avoiding the question of evil, to misdiagnosing it, completely committed to a childish view of the world. And our foolishness is proving very costly. For as GK Chesterton once wrote, “The great human heresy is that the trees move the wind.” By this he means the heresy that it is economics, race, poverty, a political party or doctrine that are the real causes of evil in the world; in this case, that it is the lack of gun control that causes evil in the world. Is the evil therefore located in the gun? Far more people are killed by automobile accidents each year in the U.S.—is the evil located in those vehicles?

How long will we continue to ignore the actual storm that tortures this world “by an invisible and violent witchcraft?”

We prevent all possibility of serious change when we hold childish views regarding evil, regarding the Great War in which we find ourselves. I suppose for the world the naiveté is understandable. For the Christian, it is inexcusable. We cannot toy with sociological, psychological or political explanations for the evil now ravaging the planet. Because we have answers.

There are answers both to the evil in the world, and the evil in the human heart. God moved long ago to deal with both, and triumphantly. What greater hope could possibly be spoken? This is what the world longs to know—"Why doesn't God do something?" God has acted; he has intervened, at the cost of his own Son’s life. There are answers, there are solutions, there is a way out. But we will not seek them while we take a four-year-old view of the world; while we blame the "trees" for the raging storm.

How differently would the church pray if we really believed we are at war with the kingdom of darkness? How differently would we live and act in this world?

That “difference,” my brothers and sisters, would make an enormous difference.

We have an enemy. He is bent on our destruction, on the destruction of God’s work in the world. On the destruction of our children.

But-

“They conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they did not love their lives in the face of death.” Revelation 12:11

1999 Triumph Sprint ST

Its been several weeks since the last post, and much has transpired.
Following up on the story last month of Mike, the older gentleman I met about the two motorcycles-
This story has progressed rapidly, in amazing ways. At first, Mike wanted $2K for Triumph (they go for $3K+ on the web), and $1K for Vulcan, but even then was willing to wiggle on prices, since neither had run in over a year. I told him I'd get back to him after Thanksgiving.
We talked on Monday of the next week, and he informed me he was taking his wife out of town to see her mother the first week of December. I asked if he would let me borrow the shop manual for the Triumph while he was gone, to see if I could figure out if there was anything else wrong with the bike, aside from needing a new battery. Mike said, "I'll do better than that. I'll let you take the bike to your house, so you can work on it yourself. If you get it running, I'll come off the price even more, to comp you for your time, effort, and money. If you can't get it running and want to call it all off, I'll comp you anyway." I jumped at the chance! Jack Butler, one of my riding buddies, brought his trailer, and we picked it up. Mike's wife, Donna, wanted him to follow us to my house, saying, "Sorry, but I'm not as trusting as Mike is!" Hoping to find an opening to maybe share my faith some with Mike, I said, "That is no problem at all! In fact, I hope you can trust preachers, because I'm one of them over at Hebron. So you'll be able to track me down at my home, or my church." As I handed them my card, they both lit up, and Mike declared, "What a blessing from God! I'm a Messianic Jew, gave my life to Christ over 20 years ago!" Wow! I was blown away. No doubt in my mind, ours had not been a chance meeting at that Red Box the week before.
We got the bike to my house, moved into my basement shop, and Mike offered to give me a ride back to the church. I obliged, thanked Jack, and hopped in Mike's truck. We talked family, careers, and Christ all the way back to Hebron. Pulling into the parking lot, Mike saw my red ZR7s sitting there, and asked to see it. He walked all around it, admiring the little ride, and asked to sit on it. "Sure, throw a over," I told him. He lit up again as he straddled it, saying, "Wow, its so light and well-balanced. And I can touch ground easy on it." He stepped off, stood there in thought for a moment, then asked, "Would you consider a trade? If you can get the Triumph running, I'd like to swap with you. On this bike, I think I might have a few more riding years in me." Surprised, I said, "Absolutely! I'd love that Triumph. I get her running, you got a deal." He said he'd bring a new battery by the church for me the next day, and we shook on it.
Sure enough, Thursday he met me with the battery. We stood and talked for about 30 minutes outside, then he declared, "I have a little revision to my proposal, if you are open to it. I'd still like to straight trade with you, and I'm willing to throw in the Vulcan 1500 too. So I'll give you both bikes for your ZR." I was stunned. Two bikes for one! Triumph for ZR, and basically the 1500 for free! Incredible. I nearly hugged the man. I told him, "Let me see what I can do with the Triumph while you are gone, and if all goes well, when you get back we'll see about closing the deal."
Well, to make a long story short, over the next two evenings, and half a Saturday with my dad's help, we got that Triumph running and tuned. In the meantime, I did some wrenching and cleaning on the ZR, so it would be ready for Mike. Upon his return, he met me at our house, and we went for a 30 minute ride- me on the Triumph, Mike on the ZR, so he could get a good feel for it. He had not ridden a motorcycle in a year and a half, so we said a prayer together, then took it easy out on some nice country roads I knew he'd enjoy. Upon returning, he stated, "I love it. I want it. Let's do this." We shook on it, agreeing to swap titles early the next week, and finalize everything.
So here I am on Sunday night, marvelling at God's hand in all of this. I've had a dream as of late to turn my love for motorcycling into a profit, by writing articles for motorcycle and Christian magazines, and "flipping" bikes on the side- finding ones like these, sitting idle in garages, needing just a little TLC to get them on the road again, buy them low, resell them for profit, and make new friends along the way. Just like Mike. And here we are, getting a like-new Triumph Sprint in a swap, a basically free Kawasaki Vulcan 1500 to work on then sell, and I already have four articles set to run in about five different magazines across the winter, and more I'll be submitting soon. God is at work in this, and no telling where it will all go. But I'm excited, and ready to follow Him.
More to come,

Yesterday I found myself interacting with several people in various states of need in their lives, with the opportunity to help and encourage each in some way.
Every year, our church collects food for needy families, packing them Thanksgiving boxes with turkey, dressing, and everything else for a full family meal. I swear, Hebron is the most generous church I've ever seen. Numerous families came by to pick up their boxes, each profusely grateful. We even had the privilege of quietly packing a couple of boxes for one of our very faithful children's ministry leaders, whose family has fallen on hard times in recent years. Humbling, to serve him and his family, in light of all they have done over the years for this ministry.
Later, I rode over to an older gentleman's house I had met the other night at a Redbox station, who had a couple of old motorcycles to sell. I examined his two bikes, but also noted he walked with a limp and a cane. When I inquired, he confided, "I'm 71 years old, and have had a couple of lower back surgeries in the past couple of years. Bone on bone down there. In fact, I'm facing a possible hip replacement this coming year, if we can afford it. I just can't get down and work on these bikes anymore, much less ride them. Time to let them go." I could sense the sadness in his voice- not only at having to give up riding, but also just at gradually losing his health, and ability to do the things he enjoys. I told him, "Well, whether we do business or not, God bless you, I'll be praying about all that for you, and I hope you have a great Thanksgiving with your family." He was very grateful.
Later that evening, I had to meet Lisa down in Snellville with the pickup truck, to pick up some furniture from a coworker of hers. At a gas station outside town, a woman pulled up alongside me in a beat-up old Toyota, and asked, "Sir, I hate to ask, but could you spare some change? I'm trying to get home to South Carolina for Thanksgiving, and am about out of money." I told her, "All I have is $3, I'm filling my truck up on a card, but I'll give you what I have. And I'll pray you get safely home. God bless you." She gave an emotional thank you, then pulled out and drove off.
I met Lisa at the apartment of her coworker, who was being evicted, unable to pay the rent anymore. We had given her a dining room set with six chairs, one we bought ourselves about 20 years ago. Now, she couldn't take it with her, moving into a much smaller place, but we said we'd store it for her, and when she could take it, we'd give it back to her. Again, she expressed heartfelt gratitude, for the gift to begin with, and the offer to give it back to her if/when she was ready.
We drove it to one of Lisa's friend's house, who said she had room in her basement to store it. She herself is a single mom with a daughter, no child support from her ex-husband (in prison), struggling to make ends meet and keep her home. She had hit something and broke the passenger side mirror on her car, and couldn't afford to fix it. I pulled off the broken one, and we told her we'd help get and install a new one for her.
Driving home, I was thinking about all these various people who had crossed paths with me today. I was grateful for all God has blessed my own family with, way more than we need or deserve. I also found myself grateful for the opportunity to serve, give, and encourage, to each of these very different people and life circumstances. I had been praying that God would stir up in me a heart of generosity, not only over the holidays, but as a way of life. I feel like I've become too selfish in recent years, gaining and keeping only for me and my family. I want to have a generous heart and an open hand with all God has blessed us with. "To whom much is given, much is required" Luke 12:48.
We are by no means wealthy by American standards, but certainly are compared to much of the rest of the world. If anyone should be a giving people, it should be Christians, those of us who have truly tasted of the goodness and generosity of the Lord.
What better way to show thankfulness?

Another presidential election has come and gone, and Barack Obama has won a second term. In a hard-fought campaign, he narrowly defeated Mitt Romney, with the popular vote nearly equal, 50-50, winning mainly due to the ridiculous Electoral College system we employ here. Its hard to believe, after four years of a dismal recession, gridlock in Washington, government-mandated health care rammed down everyone’s throats, as well as higher prices, higher taxes, and higher national debt. When Obama took office, the average price for a gallon of gas was $1.87, considered too high even then. Now, four years later, prices are approaching $4.00 per gallon, with no decline in sight. Fuel costs affect everything else, so prices have gone up for food, clothing, etc. Rather than fix the economy, the Democrats pushed through “ObamaCare”, bailed out the auto and banking industries, and sunk billions into “green energy” projects, many of which have failed. All with money borrowed from China. They hold the vast majority of our rising national debt, which recently topped 16 trillion dollars. The bottom fell out of the economy, companies went under or downsized, and currently there are 23+ million people out of work or in part-time and temp jobs. And yet the federal government has grown at an alarming rate. Under Obama’s first watch, all this has happened, and yet the Dems (aided by the leftist “news” media, Hollywood, education, etc.) still, after four years successfully blamed the country’s ills on- Former President Bush. Imagine that.

Obama has had some successes, however. He did get Osama bin Laden (using Bush’s policies no less). Also, he has successfully blocked states from protecting their borders from illegal immigration and drug trafficking, has encouraged the legalization of pot and other drugs in various states, pushed an abortion-on-demand agenda, championed gay marriage, and challenged religious liberty by forcing free contraception and abortion be covered by medical institutions with religious affiliation. Yeah, he has quite a record from his first term.

So here we are, looking at four more years of the most leftist president in the history of the country. And the country re-elected him. I guess that says a lot about the direction America is going. Our traditional, Judeo-Christian heritage is under attack, our history is being rewritten, and we are officially leaving the Constitution and our founding principles behind. The liberal media calls it “the brave new world”. I call it the slippery slope to oblivion. The past four years tell us what the next four will be like. Will gas prices be $6-8 per gallon, will our national debt top $25 trillion, will the economy completely collapse? Doesn’t look good.

I went to bed Tuesday night saddened, and awoke Wednesday not feeling any better. I felt as though the America I grew up with is going away, never to return. We have moved from “a hand up” society to “a handout” society. Rather than earn a living and make a life for yourself, we are entering an era of entitlements, handouts, “take from the wage-earners and give to those who refuse to work”. As well as all of the social engineering regarding gay marriage, legalization of drugs, unfettered abortion and govt funded contraception. America is changing, not for the better.

And yet, God spoke something to me Wednesday morning that I needed to hear. I found myself in Psalm 20:7, which reads, “Some trust in chariots, some trust in horses, but we will trust in the name of the Lord our God.” Substitute “chariots” with “political systems”, “horses” with “politicians”, and you get a pertinent message for us today. God is not surprised by the election, He already knows what the next four years hold, and He is still on the throne of eternity. Ultimately, my citizenship is with Heaven, whatever happens down here.

In that, I find comfort.

This past weekend, I got to ride and spend some time with my childhood friend Lyle Branton. We met Saturday down in Covington, about halfway between us. We ate a Cajun lunch at RL's Off The Square, me a plate of Jambalaya, Lyle a Grouper plate. His bill: about $35. Mine: $8. Ha! We sat and talked for about an hour, catching up on each other's families, work, and personal lives from the past year. Great conversation over a great meal.
We hopped on our moto-bikes and rode out country roads toward Rutledge, a quaint little town on the way to Madison with a great ice cream shop. By the time we approached the town, a lumbering, 3mph, mile-long train was rolling through, blocking our way into the town! Arghh, no ice cream in Rutledge.
We blasted east on State Road 12 through rolling hills and dairy farms, woods and wide open farm land. All in bright sunshine, cool temps. We finally arrived in the historic town of Madison, the city "too pretty to burn" according to Union General Grant in the Civil War. We pulled up to the original Scoops ice cream parlor, got a couple of cones, and sat outside in the sunshine to catch up some more. We talked about middle age, the "second half", and what God might be leading us into for the years ahead.
We were within 30 miles of my parent's lake house, so we decided to ride south to Eatonton. We pulled up in their driveway about 2:30pm, and spent a couple of hours talking, laughing, reminiscing with my folks on the back porch, over sweet tea and Toll house cookies. We finally saddled up for home and rode back toward Eatonton, where Lyle headed west for Fayetteville, and I made my way north for Dacula. A day well-spent.
Lyle and I first met at 12 years old, as 7th graders. He had just moved to Fayetteville from Tifton, Ga with his family, and didn't know a soul yet. I was paired up with him as a locker partner, and we struck up an instant friendship. We ran track together, joined some of the same school clubs, and by high school were both on the wrestling squad and cross-country team. Through it all, we stayed locker partners as well, hung out at each other's house after school and on weekends, and participated in each other's church youth groups regularly.
Even though we went our separate ways for college, we stayed in touch, were involved in each other's weddings, and were there for the birth of each other's children. We even spent a few years at the same church in Clarkston Ga, me as the youth pastor, Lyle as a deacon. We have been there for nearly all of the major events in each other's lives and families. Even when there were years that we didn't get to spend as much time together, our families always met up for Christmas, New Years, or summer getaways at the lake, with Jimmy and Carla Jimmerson, another couple we have been close to since high school.
Lyle has seen much pain and heartache over the past several years- the loss of the family business, job loss of his wife, both embarking on new career paths, the death of his godly father, a sibling's marriage and family falling apart, and painful struggles with one of his own children. Yet through it all, like Job in the Bible, Lyle has maintained his integrity, kept his faith in God. As he has told me before, "God's got us, we're in good hands." Good hands indeed.

Lyle inspires me, always has. I may be the one in vocational ministry, but to me, he is the spiritual giant. I guess adversity can do that. Pain and suffering will either make your faith, or break it. Depends on what that faith is founded upon. Lyle's faith is founded, grounded in Christ. May I always anchor my soul to Him as well.

The other day I was walking the dogs before going in to the office, praying for several friends and acquaintances I dearly want to come to Christ. Some I have been praying for over four years. I asked God, "I don't see anything happening. They seem to be as far from You as ever. Why?" I looked down, seeing acorns all over the ground underneath the huge oak tree in our front yard, and God spoke into my heart, saying, "These acorns don't sprout and take root immediately. It takes time to grow into a tree like this. There is more going on than you can see right now."
I realized God is at work in the lives of those I am praying for, in ways I don't even know. I happened to talk later that day with Elizabeth, the sister of my friend Aaron who went home to Heaven this past May. I told her what God had spoken to me, and she exclaimed, "Wow, that is incredible! What an answer to my prayers. I just spoke with Dad, and he told me he has starting to think he should find a good church. I also gave him a new Bible, and told him to start reading in John. He said he would. God is working on him!" Her dad has been one of those I have been praying for, since before Aaron died.
That evening, I got a call from my friend Pat, who is another one I have been praying for. We had not talked since I sent him a lengthy, heart-felt Facebook message, entreating him to come to Christ. That was back in July I think. He said he had been thinking about me lately, and wanted to get together and ride some this fall. I gave him some times I would be free to go, and he said he'd try to work out some of them. Again, God at work in Pat's life, keeping us connected so I have opportunities to share the love of Christ with a dear friend.
So often, in our "instant everything" culture, we expect God to work the same way as our smart phones- instant input, instant response. But God works on a different timetable, in much deeper ways than we know. I'm reminded of this great verse in 2 Peter 3:9-
"The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance."
When you can't see His hand at work, you can always trust His heart. He is working.



This past weekend, I bought a second motorcycle. Its a 2001 Kawasaki ZR-7s, a small, lightweight 750cc bike. I first became interested in this particular model about 2 years ago, after seeing one at a motorcycle shop in Watkinsville. I had never seen one before, and began to study them on the web. Kawasaki only made them for the US market from 2000 to 2004, but they were a very well-rounded motorcycle. Plenty of power, great handling, easy to maintain, and could run about 300 miles on a tank of gas. I've been thinking about a small, cheap second bike for some time, when we had the money, and recently Lisa told me, "we have some extra cash, why don't you go find one?" Oh yeah...
I began to search for them on the web, for the better part of three months. They are hard to find, having only been produced for such a short time. They also tend to run from $2500-3500, but one day last week, I saw this one come up. The bike was in east Tennessee, had 19k miles, and was being offered for $2000. I had to check it out. I emailed and texted back and forth with the owner, found out all about it, and asked a friend of mine, Tommy, to ride up with me to have a look.
We set out Saturday morning, Sept. 8, my birthday. It took over four hours to arrive in the owner's town. We were in rain most of the drive up and home, but the sun broke through as we pulled into his parking lot. Turns out, Jesse the owner was a Christian, and lived/worked for a church-run drug and alcohol rehab center that was operated by his family and their church. I rode the bike around, looked it all over, and we negotiated a price. We agreed on $1700, and I was thrilled. It needed some TLC, but was worth every penny of that. I saved $300 as well, which would make my wife happy!
The great part was meeting and dealing with a Christian brother, who was doing a good work in people's lives. The ministry is called "Place of Hope", and before we left, we all prayed together, for each other's ministries. It was a perfect way to end our meeting.
We got home, unloaded the bike, and I thanked Tommy for accompanying and helping me. Our time together talking up and back was as much a blessing as buying the bike and meeting Jesse. Tommy is a dear bro in Christ, and I enjoyed every moment of the day with him. The whole experience was a God-blessed time.
I thanked God for the opportunity to own this fun little bike, and dedicated it to the Lord just like I did the Royal Star so many years ago. God has used that bike to allow me to go places, meet people, and participate in ministry beyond my wildest dreams. May this little ride be used by God to open up even more doors to enjoy and honor Him.

Yesterday marked the 25th anniversary of Lisa's & my wedding. Its hard to believe the years have flown by so quickly. In some ways, it seems like only yesterday to me. I remember the ceremony, the pride in my parent's eyes, the stunning beauty in a bridal gown walking down the aisle on her father's arm to me. Twenty five years...filled with laughter, joy, a few tears, lots of adventure, and most of all, God-given love. I wouldn't trade a day of it with her, and would do it all again, in a heartbeat.
Our families first met way back in 1972 or 73 I think, when my dad saw an ad in the local paper for a pickup truck for sale. We had recently moved to Fayetteville, Georgia from south Florida, and my dad wanted to get a pickup- that's what these Southerners drive, right? He bought that old, black Ford pickup from a guy named Milbur Brown- Lisa's father. Turns out, they lived a couple of houses up from friends of my parents, the Harveys, who had also moved to Fayetteville from south Florida. We spent many a Saturday and/or Sunday at the Harvey's house, who had two girls and a boy, all younger than me. I once met this kid from up the street named Tim, and I would go up and play at his house often, when my family visited the Harveys. Tim had a little sister, Lisa, with blond ponytails and an infectious smile. We never let her play "Army" or "Cowboys & Indians" with us.
As the years went by, my parents began to attend Flat Creek Baptist Church south of town, during my junior high and early high school years. It just so happened the Browns were members there, though Lisa was in grade school then junior high at the time. We later moved our membership to New Hope Baptist, closer to home, only to find the Browns had as well! Lisa and Tim were both active in the youth group. I never paid much attention to her then, me being the big high school upper classman by that time, Lisa the lowly junior high-er! That would soon change, though...
As a young college student, I served as a summer intern, camp counselor, and even Sunday School teacher at New Hope. One year at high school summer camp, I was assigned as a team leader of about 15 students, one of whom was- Lisa. As we got to know each again that week, she developed a "crush" on me, and I admittedly was attracted to her (not usually encouraged between campers and counselors!). She wanted to talk one evening after dinner, out on a swing by the cafeteria, and we talked about how she felt called to the ministry, as I had several years before. Hugh Kirby, the youth pastor at the time, later told me, "I was going to have a talk with you about getting too close to one of the campers, but God told me to stay out of it, He was up to something here."
We began to date after that, off and on during her last two years of high school. Proms, dances, football games, church activities- replaying it all again, with Lisa. The longer we were together, the more serious we became. I got to the point where I asked a friend from my high school years, Pam, how I would know if this was the "real thing" or not. She told me, "When you come to the point that you can't imagine life without her, and can't bear the thought of her with anyone else, you'll know its the real thing." I was there, and I knew it. My dad helped me find a diamond ring, I secretly got the approval of her father, and one night, on a swing set at a church (Lisa loved to swing), I asked this girl to marry me. She accepted, and we began to plan for our life together.
We were married on August 29, 1987, at New Hope Baptist, Keith Moore (my pastor and "big brother" in the Lord) officiating. Hugh sang, and family and friends celebrated with us. We moved several times over the years- lived in a little single-wide trailer in Fayetteville for a time, then our first little house in Lithonia when Ansley was born, a church-owned parsonage in Snellville when Kelsey was born, two other houses in that town, before landing here, in Dacula. I've served churches in Peachtree City, Clarkston, Snellville, and now Dacula. Lisa has worked at several hospitals and a doctor's office. We've raised two lovely daughters, made a ton of memories, experienced many triumphs and a few tragedies along the way, but through it all, Lisa has been my soul mate, my lover, my best friend. Our love has done nothing but grow over the years, and I pray it will continue to, as long as we both are alive.
Its true- I can't imagine life with anyone else, would not have wanted to do life with anyone but Lisa. Aside from my relationship with Jesus Christ my Saviour, the greatest love of my life is her. Happy 25th Anniversary, Lisa! (29 if you count our dating years)
May God see fit to bless us with at least 25 more, like both our parents. Amen.

I purchased the complete box set of the old History Channel series "Dogfights" recently. This series retells, and recreates in digital animation, the great air battles of the past century. I've already been through both seasons and every episode, watching them while I exercise, and have begun to go back through and watch many again. My favorites are the episodes about the planes, pilots and battles of WWII and Vietnam, and the tactics and technologies employed in air-to-air combat.
Its been interesting listening to the interviews with fighter pilots from the different wars and eras, picking up on their common lingo and language. Being an avid motorcycle rider, I've found many similarities between the phrases and practices of pilots in combat, and the necessary skills a motorcyclist should possess for the street. I'll outline some common pilot jargon, and how I believe each can apply to motorcycling.
1. Don't Target Fixate- If a fighter pilot gets "tunnel vision," i.e. fixating on a specific target to the exclusion of anything else around him, he is vulnerable to attack from undetected enemies. Focusing so intently on the engagement in front of him can lead a pilot to become the unwitting and unwilling target of an opposing aircraft behind him. In the same way, when riding a motorcycle, if the rider fixates on an object or situation unfolding in front of him, he can lose awareness of what might be happening more immediately around or behind him, and hence put himself in danger. Solution? Snap out of it, look beyond the object or obstacle, and negotiate a path through or around.
2. Get Your Head on a Swivel- Fighter pilots are trained to not just look around constantly, but move their heads around and up/down, to gain the widest possible field of view. For the motorcyclist, this means he must move his head, not just his eyes, as he scans the environment. Use all of your range of head and eye motion to visually scan. Studies show the average human has around 170 degrees of peripheral vision. Couple that with approximately 90 degrees of side-to-side head rotation, plus the nearly 90 degrees of eye motion side-to-side, and the average person has almost 360 degrees of visual field.
*Try this: Look straight ahead, and test your peripheral vision by moving your two index fingers from front/center, to either side. See how far around your fingers are still visible? Now, still looking straight out past your nose, move your head as far to either side as you can. Once you are at your limit, check your peripherals again. Finally, with your head turned as far as you can, move your eyes as far to each side as well. You should be able to see, with peripheral vision, head turn, and eye turn, actually farther than 360 degrees. Amazing! Owls got nothing on us.
3. Eyes Outside the Cockpit- Fighter pilots must constantly remember to scan far out in front of them, and not just rely on their instruments and high-tech equipment. No technology has, or ever will, take the place of the human eye. As motorcyclists, we must also learn to perceive far out in front, and not just focus on the road immediately in front of us. Experts say we should visually search as far as 12 seconds ahead of us, to give the maximum amount of time to "Scan, Predict, Act" as the old MSF course taught us.
4. Check Your 6 O'clock- Pilots must always glance behind them while in dogfight situations, to insure they don't have someone on their tail, about to shoot them down. Many a pilot has been blown from the sky or worse, met their demise, by neglecting to "check the 6". In the same way, prior to any maneuver, a motorcyclist should check mirrors, glance side-to-side, before execution. Be aware of any and all activity around and behind, to insure no one or nothing "takes you out."
Fighter pilots operate in a complete look up/look down/look around environment, and must constantly practice these skills and others for their very survival. Though we as motorcyclists are not engaging in literal combat, being on a bike can be a dangerous, even deadly, endeavor. Constantly changing road conditions, weather, traffic variables, distracted, aggressive "cagers"- it can feel like a war zone on the streets. I've come to practice these simple tactics every time I ride, borrowed from veteran fighter pilots who have seen and survived combat. They sure apply well to riding.

Today is unofficially "National Chick-fil-A Day" across America. People everywhere are flocking to CFA in support of the company, after President Dan Cathy recently stated in an interview with Baptist Press that the company supports the traditional, Biblical definition of marriage. What resulted from his statement was a liberal media firestorm. Crying "hate speech" and "discrimination" by leftist news outlets, so-called entertainers, and homosexual rights groups bent on forcing their agenda upon us, CFA and Dan Cathy has been castigated and savaged, with groups calling for boycotts, "kiss-ins", etc. in an effort to undermine the company. The mayors of two cities, Boston and Chicago, have even said they will bar CFA from opening any more stores in their cities, something they really cannot legally do. So who's actually practicing discrimination here?
Its a shame we have come to this in America. A man speaks his mind on a current subject, but because it is contrary to the current media, educational, and political agenda, he gets crucified over it. There was a time when homosexuality was frowned upon. Now, if you take a stand against it, you are vilified. How upside down we have become. Right is wrong, and wrong is now right. And its everywhere- Entertainers "coming out", politicians, news personalities, athletes. Its on TV more and more, from the old "Will & Grace" show to "Modern Family", "The New Normal", etc. We are being hammered with the message of "ACCEPT US!" at every turn. What one generation began to tolerate, the next accepted, and now they demand we embrace them, as equal or superior. I've heard that the Democratic political platform will now include a statement supporting "marriage equality". So that's what they want to call it now. Redefine marriage, redefine society.
Even Christians are bowing to the pressure, propaganda. I've heard young people say, "We should not be mean to them. They have a right to live their lives. Besides, the Bible doesn't speak out against homosexuality, nor does it define marriage." Oh really?? This shows the level of misinformation young people have come to believe, as well as their lack of knowledge of Scripture.
I think some Biblcial clarity is called for:
Marriage
Genesis 1:27-28, 2:21-25- The original definition of marriage, from God.
Mark 10:6-12- Jesus Himself affirms the Genesis definition.
1 Corinthians 7:1-4, Ephesians 5:22-33, Colossians 3:18, 1 Timothy 3:2- Paul reaffirms it.
1 Peter 3:1, 7- Peter reaffirms it.
Hebrews 13:4- The writer of Hebrews reaffirms it.
Homosexuality
Genesis 19:4-5- Their rebellion was expressed in aggressive homosexuality, and judgment followed.
Judges 19:22- Similar to above.
Leviticus 18:22, 20:13- Clear condemnation of it as an "abomination".
Ezekiel 16:49-50- This was Sodom's "abomination".
Romans 1:24-27- What happens when people embrace this lifestyle.
1 Corinthians 6:9-10- Paul lumps it in with other sins, saying, "such will not inherit the kingdom of God". *note: v.11 states Christ can rescue anyone from any of these sins
1 Timothy 1:9-10- "contrary to sound teaching"
*The above Scriptures clearly include homosexuality as immoral, against God's plan and purpose. Therefore, it would be included in these verses, among others:
1 Corinthians 5:9-11
Galatians 5:19-21
Ephesians 5:5
Revelation 21:8, 22:15

Does all this mean we should be cruel to them, ostracize them, "discriminate" against them? Absolutely not. Christ died for them, just like all of us. We all are in need His forgiveness, redemption. Does it mean we must accept and embrace their agenda, and their "new normal" definition of marriage and relationships? Absolutely not. When the culture goes contrary to Scripture, on any issue, we as Christ-followers must take our stand on God's Word. The Bible, not changing societal norms and policies, is our final authority.
"Hate speech", "homophobes"? No, of course we are not.
Standing on Biblical truth? Completely.
Now, its lunch time. I'm going to Chick-fil-A.

Its been more than a month since I last wrote anything here. After Aaron's death, I just couldn't bring myself to write anything for awhile, just wanted to leave up the last two posts about him. Since that time, I've had the privilege of speaking at his funeral, and assisting his family in sorting through his effects. At the funeral, I determined to tell his salvation story again, our years of friendship and memories, and I challenged the attenders to confess their own need for Christ, and surrender their lives to Him. There are family members and dear friends of Aaron that I pray were impacted that day, and will come to Christ as he did. Aaron wanted that, more than anything else.

We completed another year of Vacation Bible Camp last week, "Boot Camp 2012" we called it. It was a military theme, and we saw over 1800 attend every day. 81 kids made decisions for Jesus Christ, that we know of, and we will be visiting families and baptizing new believers out of this extraordinary event for weeks and even months to come. I had the opportunity to do something super-fun, and it made a big hit with kids both times I did it- I rappelled out of the ceiling in full camo and gear, like an Army Ranger! I'm crazy, I know...
So now as we work through the rest of a busy summer, I'm reflecting on the loss of a friend, on gaining many new, young converts to Christ, and the impact our lives have on each other, and on God's Kingdom. I'm thankful to be able to do what I do, here at Hebron, at this stage in my life.
Pointing people to Jesus, nudging them closer to a relationship with Him. Worth it all.

This morning, I got the call I hoped would not come. Aaron Smith, my close friend and brother in Christ, passed away in the early morning hours. His sister Elizabeth informed me. I was stunned, speechless. It all happened so fast, and I couldn't get my head around it. Over the past couple of months, this cancer moved so rapidly there was almost nothing that could be done to stop it, or even slow it down. Aaron had been admitted to Piedmont Hospital, where they began aggressive chemo treatments. I had been down there to see him numerous times, even spent the night to give the family a break. He fought bravely, but ultimately, the cancer overpowered modern medicine, and he was sent to a hospice down close to where we all grew up. There he died, not two days after being settled. Over the past few months of his battle, we had many conversations. He went from fear to determination, to urgency in sharing Christ with people, and finally to peace and resignation, that whatever happens, Christ would be glorified and many would come to faith as a result. One of the nights I was with him at Piedmont, about 2am after getting another overnight round of pain meds, he wanted to talk. We sat up until 3am, talking about the things he had been learning in Bible study recently, the opportunities God had given him to share Christ with visitors and hospital personnel, and his thoughts on where all this was going. He said, "Rob, I have to tell you something. I'm not afraid anymore. Whatever God's plan for me is, I'm at peace with it. If I get well, I'll keep living for Christ. If I don't, well, I'll be with Christ. I can't lose either way." I shared the verses in Philippians 1:20-24, where Paul states, "For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain." Win-win situation for a Christ follower. I then felt led to share with him something God had spoken to me a couple of weeks earlier, but had been hesitant to share with anyone yet, in hopes Aaron would get well. I shared with him the passage in John 12:24, where Jesus declares, "unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains by itself alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit." At this Aaron began to weep heavily and loudly, grasped my hand, and said, "Rob, that's the exact thing I've been praying lately! That if by my death, they (several family and friends) come to faith in Christ, it will have been worth it all. I'm so happy, so happy." I was stunned. The very verse God had laid on my heart for Aaron, but didn't want anyone to know for fear they would think I was predicting his death, was the very verse he himself had been praying. Wow. So here I sit, grieving the loss of my dear friend, but cherishing all the great memories we made together, and resolute that I will do my part to carry out that commission. I will share the life and love of Christ with those Aaron wanted to see saved, and with any others God gives opportunity. That will be the highest I can do to honor my friend, fulfill his desires. This seed will bear much fruit. I love you Aaron, my friend and my brother. And I'll see you again, one day.

A very dear friend of mine is currently in the fight of his life right now. Aaron Smith, high school friend, motorcycle riding buddy, and as of three years ago, brother in Christ, is battling advanced prostate cancer, which has spread into his bones and lower spine. It tears me up to see and hear him struggle in agony and exhaustion.
Aaron and I go way back, to our freshman year in high school, 1977. We met our first day of school. I had difficult middle school years, as many kids do, and my first day in high school was not starting well. I had no classes with my friends, and by 3rd period was hopelessly lost in the bowels of this huge new world called high school. Overwhelmed, I stood in the back corner of a bathroom, quietly sobbing, embarrassed to go any further. Suddenly, a blond-haired kid with braces and a 9th grade "bro-stache" walked in, looked at me and asked, "Dude, what's wrong?" I told him my dilemma, he looked at my schedule and replied, "Hey, you're in my class! C'mon, I'll take you there." No ridicule, no ignoring, he just offered help. His name was Aaron. He was the first friend I made in high school.
We stayed friends, but our lives took different paths toward the end of our school years. His parents divorced, and Aaron sank into many of the pitfalls that so many teens succumb to. I came to Christ by 11th grade, and got very involved in church. After our school days, Aaron joined the Air Force and found an aptitude for flying. He later became an airline pilot, living the "glamorous" jet-setting life for the next several decades. I went to college and seminary, got married, started a family, and pursued a calling of serving God in full-time ministry. Except occasionally at class reunions, we lost contact with each other.
Our paths crossed again almost 4 years ago, when through another old high school friend, Pat Davis, we reconnected on Facebook. The three of us began meeting up and going on motorcycle rides, and spent much time talking and catching up with each other's lives and experiences. They both knew I had become a Christian back in school and was a minister now, and we shared many conversations about spiritual things. The years and the miles apart had made all three of us very close once we reconnected.
One Sunday afternoon, I got a call from Aaron, who said with a wavering voice, "Rob, I have something to tell you. I've been going to Dr. Stanley's church, First Baptist Atlanta, for the past month, and this morning I gave my life to Christ! I wanted you to be the first to know." Words can't describe the joy I felt, and I choked up with emotion. Within a couple of months, I had the privilege of baptizing Aaron, at FBCA, with his mom, sister, Pat & Karen, and other family and friends all present. In the years since then, I've seen Aaron grow in Christ dramatically, devouring God's Word, getting involved in ministry at his new church, and sharing his new-found faith in Christ with people at every opportunity. We have continued to take motorcycle road trips together, enjoying our renewed friendship and shared faith after all these years.
I got a call from him last month, beginning almost the same way one did over three years ago- "Rob, I have something to tell you..." What he told me this time made my heart stop. "I have prostate cancer. It's highly advanced, stage 4, and I'm scared." I was stunned. Not Aaron! The last few years flashed through my mind. We prayed together, shed some tears together, and I pledged, along with Pat, to do whatever possible for him as he goes through this fiery trial. After a battery of tests and scans, the cancer has been found in his bones as well, the pelvic region, in his lower spinal vertabae, and now his liver. The outlook is bleak, the road long and torturous.
Aaron is considering his options, looking at various treatments and aggressive measures, even considering natural approaches such as macrobiotics. My aunt Judy is a 21-year stage 4 cancer survivor, and I've put them in contact with each other. God only knows where this will all go, what the outcome will be.
So I'm praying for my friend and my brother, asking God for his healing and wholeness. I'm reminded how fragile and short this life is, "like a vapor" as the Bible states. God has not promised us smooth sailing and clear skies in this life, but no matter what we face, He promises us His presence and grace. And whenever our end here is, those of us who know Him and have entrusted our lives to Him await the promise of the real life to come, never to struggle and suffer again. That is our great hope. That is Aaron's great hope. That is my great hope.
Pray for Aaron- my friend, my brother in Christ.

This past Sunday, I had a couple of amazing animal encounters again. With spring in the air, and considering my previous entry, these were pretty incredible.
After returning from church, I changed out of my "Sunday" clothes, then took the dogs for a walk, up and down the driveway. I had left the door to the den open, to let some fresh air in. As we stepped back inside, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. A small wren had flown into the house, and was buzzing around in the den, trying to avoid us. I chased her around the room, trying to catch her against a window, drape or something. She flew upstairs to the kitchen, right into the blinds of the breakfast nook. I gently trapped her and pulled her out, trying not to hurt the little creature. She squawked at me, very unhappy with being captured. I loosened my grip to adjust, and out she jumped, flitting around the kitchen again. She finally landed on a drape, and I was able to quickly snatch her in my hands again, still careful not to harm her.
As I walked back outside to release her, I was amazed at how tiny and fragile she was. She fit in the palm of my hand. As I opened my hands to let her go, she suddenly gripped one of my fingers with both little feet, and didn't let go. I held my hand up, this tiny bird perched now on my index finger, and she just looked at me, refusing to fly off immediately. Was she wondering why I didn't crush her, or eat her? Who knows. It couldn't have been more than 20 seconds, but she finally flew off, the dogs and I watching her departure.
Later in the afternoon, after a short nap, I was again outside with the dogs, this time sitting on the front steps, the dogs sitting on the front walkway. Birds were chirping and singing everywhere, all around us. Suddenly, in a flash, a large red-tailed hawk swooped down out of a nearby tree, and caught a small bird in his talons, tumbling into the grass not five feet from Johnny. Before any of us could even react, the hawk was off toward the woods, the little victim squeaking in his clutches. Shocking. My first thought was, could this have been the same little wren I released earlier? I concluded it was not, based on the pile of grey feathers in the grass where they had landed. Still, I felt sadness for the sudden demise of the little bird, although I understand it is part of life right now. Then I wondered, was this the same hawk I encountered at the end of the driveway last week? Very likely could have been. I see and hear hawks all around our property, fairly regularly.
God has created a beautiful, wild world for us to enjoy, and sometimes, we are given the opportunity to experience it up close and personal. The little wren in my hands, the large, powerful hawk in front of me. Both display the beauty and power of our God. For now, this is a fallen world, where attack and defense, tooth and claw, are a part of life. A day is coming, however, when "the wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together;" and the hawk will perch on my hand, next to the wren.

Today was an absolutely beautiful day for March. Sunny, wispy clouds overhead, temps in the upper 60s. I rode the motorbike to the office, praying and worshiping as I rode in. I had three amazing encounters during the day, that reminded me of the nearness of God. As I finished breakfast, I glanced out to our backyard, and saw four deer, grazing on our grass, with the sun rising through the woods behind them. I whispered, "Thank you Father, for this morning gift", and loaded up for work.
I came home during lunch to check on the dogs, and enjoyed a leisurely walk down our long driveway with them. The sun was bright and warm, a slight breeze was wafting through the trees, and I savored the moments before once again saddling up to go back to the office. As I rolled to the end of the driveway on the bike, I noticed a large red tail hawk right in front of me, perched on a telephone line over our mailbox. I stopped, watching to see what he would do, and he just sat there, moving his head from side to side, eye-balling me as I was him. I again whispered, "Thank you Father for this moment in time, shared with this exquisite creature you have made!" As I rode off, he remained, watching me pull away.
Later this evening, as I talked on the phone with my friend Aaron, I heard something unusual outside, so I walked out into the moon-lit driveway. I heard in the pines over my head the tell-tale "whoo-whoo, whoo-whoo, whoo" of not one, but three owls, calling to each other across the trees. Transfixed, I held my phone up for Aaron to hear, which he could, but barely. To my naked ear, they were up close and personal, almost right above me. It was awe-inspiring. I told Aaron I'd have to call him back, and I spent the next ten minutes, standing out front, under the moon and trees, listening to these three owls make music to my ears. Even the dogs sat in silence, looking skyward, listening as well. Again I whispered, "Thank you Father, for another indescribable gift tonight. I love you."
Life has become so busy it seems, and I have become so distracted, I have begun to lose sight of the little "hints of Heaven, glimpses of glory" God has placed throughout His creation, all around me. Even when I'm riding my motorcycle, which has always been a personal retreat on wheels for me, I've begun to focus on riding techniques I've been studying, practicing cornering, shifting, etc., all good things. Today reminded me to drink in the scenery all around, to get my "head on a swivel, eyes outside the cockpit" to use a fighter pilot phrase, and enjoy God in His creation again.
As we finish up our "Wonderful Outlaw" series in RockiTown this Sunday, getting to know the incredible personality of Jesus, I will communicate that we must return to simply loving Jesus- in worship, in His Word, and in His world. To quote John Eldredge from the book we based our series on, "I am making a practice of loving Jesus. Loving him for who he really is. The Jesus who gave us the oceans and rivers. Who gave us laughter. Who served up 908 bottles of wine to Cana."
And who gave me four deer, three owls, one hawk, and a couple of four-legged furry companions to enjoy it all with today.
Thank you Father. I love you too.

Since we have undertaken to lead our Children's ministry through a year-long reading of the New Testament (see the Jan. 7 entry), I've been struck by something I'm not sure I've ever really paid attention to before. We are currently reading through the Gospel of Mark, having completed Matthew. As I read of Jesus' dealings with people, His teachings, His miracles & signs, I'm fascinated by how He brings healing to people. It seems like He never healed two people exactly the same way, even if it was the same issue/ailment. One blind man, He would simply say, "Be healed!", and the man's eyes would be opened. Another, He might spit on some dirt, rub it on the guy's eyes, and tell him to go wash. Still another, He would spit right in the eyes, and heal him on the spot. He drove out demons differently, some very confrontational and face-to-face, others from a great distance, one even without directly addressing the demons. He commanded, they fled. He healed lepers by putting His hands right on them, He healed the mute by touching their tongue, healed the deaf by poking His fingers in their ears, and even healed some who just touched His clothes. Never the same way twice.

He was so personal with each circumstance, often so private. Sometimes He would even instruct them not to tell anyone, which usually didn't work! But each case was very personal, very intimate, very specific to the individual. I love this. Jesus Christ, King of all kings and Lord of all lords, God Almighty from age to age, walked the dust of earth among us. Not as some unapproachable holy man or mystic, but as "God with us", Divinity up close and personal, the Creator in clothes. And He touched. He spoke. He healed.

I love how He loved people. How He treated women. How He raised the dead, healed the sick and broken, restored health, hope, life. I think that was His real motivation. Physical healing was important, but Jesus saw deeper, to what each person really needed, and He healed there too.

May I see others as Jesus saw them, may I touch as He touched, may I love as He loved, may I be an instrument of His healing, in this lost, hurting, dying world.

Its been about a month now since my father's emergency heart surgery, and he has recovered remarkably. Off all pain medication, and mostly back to normal (he still has to be careful not to lift too much). We all are very happy with his progress. I look forward to some spring/summer/fall riding with him this year.
I'm also very proud of something he has recently accomplished, that he has never been known for. He wrote down an account of all he experienced during those days surrounding his surgery, things he thought and felt, words and Scripture God brought to him in the midst of the pain and uncertainty. My dad has never been much of a reader, much less a writer- I get those traits from my mother, a prolific reader and writer. But write he did, and below are some excerpts from his story, entitled "Out Of Control".
"Being a typical man I've always felt I was, or should always be, in control of my life, and what I did would determine how things would go for me. Most men feel that they are in control, and when things get out of control it’s a very disturbing feeling. So it was with me several months ago when I noticed increasing bouts of chest pain." Dad recounts the recurring problems, even though he had a heart stint installed three years prior. Thinking he could control it, he chose to wait until after the holidays to get checked out, writing, "Still thinking I was in control, this could have been a deadly mistake on my part."
He writes of being admitted, the emergency surgery being scheduled, and the feeling that everything was out of his hands- he no longer was in control. As my brothers and I rushed from all over to Augusta and be with our mother during the surgery, Dad recalls this- "I was handed a clipboard with paperwork for me to sign, giving them permission to operate. It was at this point things for me were 'Out Of Control'. I had signed my name and now had no control over what would happen to me." He recalled a verse from the Bible, Hebrews 13:5, which reads, "Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you." Dad writes, "I know now that in moments of great stress, though we may not be thinking of God, He is always thinking of us."
As previously written, the surgery went great, and though there have been pains, feelings of helplessness, exhaustion, Dad writes, "Reflecting back on all of this, my first question might be 'Where was God in all this?' I believe I know. When I was waiting too long to get help for my heart, He was holding back a heart attack, keeping my heart safe for surgery." He recites part of Philippians 4:7, "and the peace of God...will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." God was in total control, the whole time.
Dad concludes by stating, "I will not be in control anymore, I’m not very good at it. It could have cost me my life. I will leave control to God now and do my best to trust Him daily for direction."
"I have been young, and now am old, yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken or His descendants begging for bread."(Psalm 37:25)
Final footnote- the day my father had his heart surgery, my niece Rylee, Rick's daughter, prayed and gave her life to Christ back home in Dallas with Robyn her mother. Dad finishes with this-
"He gave two people new hearts on Jan. 11, 2012. Mine as He rebuilt my heart physically, and spiritually as my granddaughter Rylee prayed with her mom to receive Christ in her heart that same day. God is good, God is faithful."
Yes He is.

This has been a stressful week, in my immediate and extended family. My father had emergency triple bypass heart surgery this past Wednesday. He has been dealing with growing heart issues for several years now, with blood thinners for his arteries, three heart catheter procedures in the last two years, a stint put in one artery last summer. He has been experiencing chest pain and shortness of breath again since before Christmas, so my mother drove him to the VA hospital in Augusta, where his heart procedures have all been done before. They did blood tests, determined they needed to do another heart cath, then decided to send him to the hospital on nearby Ft. Gordon Army base. All this time, I and my brothers had been on the phone with Dad & Mom, keeping up with all that was going on. When they were informed that Dad would need a triple bypass, and it was scheduled for Thursday, I took off from work, packed a bag, and started for Augusta on Wednesday, so I could be with them that night and there as he left for surgery the next morning. Mark and Rick did the same, all arranging our schedules so we could be there.
While driving, my got a frantic phone call from my mom, sobbing heavily, unable to speak. I immediately thought the worst, that Dad had a heart attack before the surgery, or had died suddenly. But she said, "As soon as we got here, they took him right away into surgery. They didn't want to wait until tomorrow." I said, "Mom, that's a good thing! They are doing this BEFORE he has a heart attack." It had just caught her offguard, and none of us were there yet to be with her. I assured her that all three of her boys would be there, within a few short hours.
I arrived early afternoon, Mark about an hour after me, and we picked Rick up at the airport by 5pm. All of Mom's boys were with her now. As we all waited and talked, the doctor came out and informed us the surgery went fantastic, they would be sewing him up and calling us back soon. Within another hour, we were all allowed back to see him. He was still out, with wires, tubes, IV's, etc. all attached to him. He looked worse than he was, they said. His heart was beating strong on its own, he would be coming to and breathing on his own before the night was over, and likely ready to eat and sit up by the next day.
We all spent the night at local hotel, enjoying some much-needed laughter and downtime. The next morning, Thursday, we were back at the hospital, and he was conversant, but only a little. We took turns sitting with him and talking with him, until the nurses wanted to get him up and moving. We all took a late lunch, roamed a local mall, and when we arrived back at 4pm, he looked like a new man! Sitting up, eating on his own, joking with the nurses and doctors. What a change in just a few hours! It was good seeing him looking better.
Mark and I had to leave Thursday night, but Rick would stay until Saturday. Every day, I've been calling several times, to talk to Mom, and now even Dad, out of ICU and in a private room. They say he will likely go home Monday, and that he is recovering like a man half his age. He's a tough old turkey, and he has taken good care of himself over the years- eating right, exercising, staying active, and avoiding tobacco and alcohol abuse. Clean living has its benefits!
His mom, my Grandma Brooks, died of a heart attack at his age, 72, so Dad has beaten the odds. God is not through with him yet, as he and my mom touch many lives for Christ, everywhere they go. I'm not ready for him to go yet either- too much life left to live together, too many roads yet to ride together. And with this past him, and after what will be a painful recovery at times, the docs said his heart should be good for another 25+ years. I jokingly told him, "Your heart will outlast your mind now!" Not sure he thought that was funny.
Now, if we can just get everyone in my own immediate family well...

This year in our Children's Ministry at Hebron, we are embarking on a great adventure. We are leading our 3rd-5th graders through a reading of the New Testament. A chapter a day, Monday-Friday, all year long. It was an idea born out of a challenge from one of our 5th graders. Now its sweeping not only the Children's Ministry, but is taking hold among our leaders, our parents, and even the rest of the church.
I found a website back in November of 2011, called www.bibleplan.org, and felt like God told me, "Take the Children's Ministry through this next year." The plan was so easy to follow- a chapter a day, five days a week, easily accessed right from the website. So simple, but so needed.
We've decided to call it, "Bible Challenge 2012", and hundreds of our kids have taken the challenge. I told them, "If you will do this, all year, I can make you a promise- God will change you. You will know Jesus more, grow closer to Him, and be used by Him to touch other's lives. You will never be the same." God's Word never returns empty, but always does God's will (Isaiah 55:11). Its going to be a great year in the Word.
Join us on the journey!
http://www.bibleplan.org/nt/niv/