We just finished our annual Vacation Bible Camp yesterday, our version of the traditional VBS. We had a fantastic week in "Rescue 91:1", averaging 1820 in attendance, and saw over 70 kids make decisions to follow Christ. The event far exceeded our expectations. At the very least, the week can be summed up as nothing short of FUN!

Its crazy, I've been doing VBS events since 1991, when I first entered children's ministry, and even used to assist with them for years when I was a youth pastor. Over the years, I've become so used to pulling these off that I almost dread them, both because I've done so many, and also in the weeks leading up to them, because I get stressed over all the details to pull them together.

And yet, the morning we begin, and the campus is filled with the smiles and laughter of children and leaders, I remember why I love VBS/C. The enthusiasm, the joy, the activity, the many kids who come to know Christ. By Thursday, a parent asked me, "So, how are you doing so far?" to which I replied, "I'm tired, but man, I'm having fun!"

By the time we finished yesterday, and the clean-up was done, I just walked the campus, reflecting on the week. I was sad it was over. So much planning over so many months, so much preparation, so many people recruited, trained, and supplied- and suddenly in a few short days, it was over. But hopefully, in many kids' lives, this would spell the beginning- the beginning of a lifetime of loving and following Christ. That's why I keep doing it year after year. That's what motivates me.

Its been said of bikers, "the urge to ride can override reason." Well, that was true of me today.

My bike had been in the shop for almost 10 days, so when I got it back Saturday, I took the long way home. Sunday, after church, I had to meet Lisa & the girls down at the lake for Kelsey's and my niece Tori's family graduation party. They had left earlier in the morning, but I didn't get on the road until almost 1:30pm. I love the ride through the countryside to Lake Oconee, and despite the threat of thunderstorms, I went against sound judgement and took off on my bike.

I was in and out of rain within the first 10 miles. Stopping to get my rain gear on at a gas station, I rode on, storms all around me. The sky was dark, there were thunderheads that looked miles high, and sheets of rain split by lightning, on all sides it seemed. I was honestly a little unnerved, wishing I had taken 4 wheels instead of 2. As I rode, hoping to dodge as many bursts as possible, I was grumbling, complaining, bad words floating around in my head. As I got south of Bostwick, my bike began to sputter & skip, like water was affecting the ignition. I thought, "Oh great, I'll stall out in the middle of nowhere, with no cell service, and no shelter from the driving rain." But the bike kept chugging on, albeit in protest. South of Madison, I finally prayed, "God, why don't you stop the storms from hitting me for awhile??" To which I felt Him reply, "Why don't you learn to praise Me in the storms??" That struck like a lightning bolt to my soul. I rode on, contemplating what He spoke. As I thought about the situation I was in, with all this awesome, fearful wonder on display all around me, I felt very ungrateful, untrusting, and self-centered. The God who had given me life, given me new life, given me all I've ever needed for life, was telling me to enjoy Him, trust Him, praise Him in the storms. Its easy for me to ride and worship when the weather is beautiful- Why can't I ride and worship when the weather is not so beautiful?

Then I thought back on all the times in my life when things have went well for me. Its easy to love, to worship, to trust in God then. But all too often, when adversity hits, when difficulties and trials surround me, I find myself grumbling, complaining, inwardly letting the bad words float around in my head, forgetting the God who gives the good days is also the Lord of the bad days. Like the song by Casting Crowns, I need to learn to "praise You in the storm."

I had to ride back this evening the same way, dodging storms and occasionally getting pelted with heavy rain. But my perspective was different. As I rode toward thunderheads filled with darkness, driving rain, and lightning, I chose this time to follow the example of Paul & Silas in prison in Acts 16:25, and began to sing praises to God. As a storm would loom in front of me, I lifted up a song on the road, and pressed forward.

By the time I arrived home, I had only been in one heavy shower on the return trip, and God had caused me to literally dodge every other one. Amazing. But whether I had been in storms or not, God had gripped me with the need to trust and not fear, to praise and not complain, to focus on Him and not on my plight.

A Heavenly perspective changes everything. He doesn't promise to clear the storms out in front of us, but He does promise to get us through them, and be with us in the midst of them. Ours is to trust and praise.

I was reading this morning in 1 Kings 11, about King Solomon's final years. It was a sobering read, to be truthful. When people typically think of Solomon, they usually recall the following facts about him- his father was King David, the greatest king in Israel's history; he succeeded his father to the throne; Solomon was offered anything his heart would desire by God, and he (wisely) chose wisdom to lead; as a result, God gave him unsurpassed wisdom, but also blessed him with vast wealth, power, and influence across the world. What fantastic potential and promise!
Solomon penned most of the Proverbs, some of the Psalms are attributed to him, and scholars believe he wrote Ecclesiastes and Song of Songs as well. Solomon was given the privilege of constructing the first great Temple, built up Jerusalem up as well as other great projects across the country, built up a vast navy to sail the Mediterranean, the Red Sea, and beyond. His wisdom, fame, and wealth were beyond any of his time. All because he started well- he dedicated himself to follow God, to walk humbly before Him, and to lead God's people with wisdom and compassion.
But something happened along the way. By chapter 11, Solomon began to waver and weaken.
His wealth, power and fame began to go to his head, as he accumulated more and more for himself, and began to treat his people as servants rather than God's people, taxing them heavily and pressing them into slave labor. He gathered for himself literally hundreds of wives and concubines, to feed his lusts. And he allowed for the worship of false gods among all his wives, and ultimately among the people, eventually participating himself. He short, rather growing into wise old man, he became an old fool.
The sad final years of his life can be summed up in these verses- "Now the Lord was angry with Solomon because his heart was turned away from the Lord,... he did not observe what the Lord had commanded." (v.9-10) In fact, his final recorded act as king was a plot to kill the man God was going to give part of his kingdom to upon his death. He fought against God while near his own death!
His story startled and shook me. I had not looked at Solomon this way before. He did not finish well, but in shame.
I hopped on my bike and rode to work, enjoying the cool, clear morning, but praying that God would protect and preserve my heart, wholly for Him. I never want to make choices that would bring shame upon myself, my family, my people, my church, and ultimately, my God. I want to finish well, finish strong, and leave a legacy of love for God, love for people, and love for life. I want to hear God say, "Well done, welcome home!", not "What were you thinking?!" I know I'll not be perfect, I'll make mistakes sometimes, but may I never destroy God's work in and through me. May my life, overall, bring Him glory and honor.
May my epitaph one day read- "He walked with God, and brought others along."

I'm reflecting on Mother's Day yesterday, and all that the mothers in my life have come to mean to me. In our children's church hours, I spoke on Mothers from Proverbs 31:10-31, and since we had invited moms to join us in children's church for what we called "SuperMom Sunday", we had a packed house both hours, both places. It was a wonderful morning, and I hope all the moms who attended had a great time and left encouraged.
I spoke about my own mother, who was the first one in our family to come to Christ. When we moved to Georgia in 1972, my mother attended a women's conference at the invitation of a new friend, and she gave her life to Christ. A year later, my father came to Christ himself, in no small part due to the changed life and verbal witness of my mom. Within a few years, as they grew in their new-found faith, I came to Christ, as did my younger brothers. Truly, salvation came to the Brooks household largely because of my mother. And she has always been the prayer warrior and encourager in the faith that a godly mom is meant to be.
Over the years, I've come to love and appreciate my mother-in-law, Brenda, for her godly character and influence as well. Lisa is the youngest of 3, with an older brother and sister. As the "baby" of her family, Lisa was sheltered and cherished by her mother, and grew up in a loving, godly, secure home. I can truly say, after nearly 23 years of marriage to Lisa, her mother Brenda is like a second mom to me.
I spoke about Lisa, and the tremendous influence she has had in the lives of our 2 girls, Ansley & Kelsey. She has always given of herself, sacrificed without complaint, and loved unconditionally, as we have tried to raise our girls to know, love, and follow Christ. Children will always have to grow up and make their own life choices. But in our home, Lisa's influence with them, in her words of wisdom, how she pushed them to excel, and lived herself what she taught, has hopefully given our girls plenty of ammo to make wise, godly choices in life. I am forever grateful for the godly woman I am privileged to call my wife.
"A wife of noble character, who can find? She is worth far more than rubies." Proverbs 31:10
I know three- my mom, my mom-in-law, and my own precious wife. All three are priceless.

Today was an exhausting but exhilarating day. I arrived at the church at about 7:45, and began to get everything ready for a morning of RockiTown children's church hours. By 9:20 I hustled over to the main worship center to prepare to baptize a mom and her son who had recently come to Christ. It was an exciting moment, baptizing them together. I got back in time for the rest of our RockiTown worship times, and spoke both hours on "Be still, and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10).
By 12:15pm, I was jumping in the car and racing around 285 to arrive at First Baptist Atlanta for the afternoon baptism celebration for an old high school friend of mine. I have known Aaron since the 9th grade, and though the miles, the years, and the circumstances of life have caused us to pass in and out of each other's lives over the years, over the past couple of years we've begun talking more, and of course riding motorcycles together. Then, back in the fall, Aaron called me one Sunday afternoon, telling me he had trusted Christ at FBC Atlanta! I was thrilled, to say the least. So when he asked me if I'd baptize him, I was honored. His mom was there, as well as Pat & Karen Davis, who have been friends with Aaron since high school as well, and several other family friends. It was a real privilege to help Aaron take this step in his new walk with Christ. I told Him, "We've been friends for many years, and now I'm thrilled to call you my brother as well."
After returning for a brief rest, I prepared for the evening worship service, that I was to preach in. I was excited for the opportunity, as in the 10+ years I've been at Hebron, I've only been given the chance to preach, outside of the children's ministry, on 2 occasions. I spoke on Courage- in our personal lives, our homes, in the world, for our children. My opening text was from 2 Timothy 1:7- "God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind." Several told me afterward that it was a message they needed to hear, and were encouraged by it.
In all, it was an exhausting, exhilarating day. I can't think of a better way to spend myself.

I took a ride Friday morning down to my parent's lake house on Oconee, for a home-cooked lunch from my mom, and a little moto-maintenance help from my dad. The ride down was, well, as close to heaven as I've felt in some time. Perfect riding conditions- cool temps, warm sun, gentle breeze, the world in full bloom, wide-open roads. The kind of morning that you want to freeze in time, and linger therein. In all, almost 2 hours of biker bliss!

Often as I ride, I worship and pray. I'm totally focused- on the road ahead, the bike beneath me, the world around me, and my Lord over me. I prayed for family & friends, I worshiped & praised for all the beauty in His world surrounding me, and I asked that He speak into my heart whatever He wanted to say to me. At one point, between Bostwick and Madison, I prayed, "Father, do I bring You pleasure? I want You to be proud of me." I felt His voice speak into my heart, "I am greatly pleased with you. I take great delight in you." It thrilled my heart, and I quickly replied, "Show me how I can bring You greater pleasure!" No sooner had those words crossed my mind, when He pretty much cut off my thought process with this truth- "You can't bring me anymore pleasure than you already do. I am fully pleased with you. I delight in you, not because of anything you do, but because you are Mine." I let the weight of that truth sink in, but still I responded, "Even with my faults and shortcomings? I struggle with my thought life, my tongue, my distractedness, my feelings of failure at home...I sometimes don't feel like I bring You much pleasure." To which He stated, "It doesn't matter. My pleasure in you is not based on what you do. Its based on My love for you. I delight in you."

I rode on the rest of the way, just letting that simple but profound truth settle into my heart. I knew it I think, I just needed Him to remind of me of it again. We let so many of the world's cares, fears, and sins burden us down, that we forget the great love of God for us, which we cannot earn, nor can we lose. Sometimes, we just need to unplug from the world and pull aside for a time, and let Him begin to speak again. I'll live for Him, not because I need to bring Him pleasure, but because He already is pleased with me.

Its Monday morning after Easter Sunday, and I'm reflecting on the weekend. On Good Friday, I spent some time sitting at our dining room table reading God's Word, the sun beaming in on my back through our bay windows. I was reading over the accounts in the Gospels about the day of Jesus' torture and execution, letting His incredible sacrifice for our sins really sink into my heart again. Jesus had endured a mock trial the night before, the treacherous Pharisees shuttling Jesus back and forth between Herod, Caiaphas and Pilate, trying any way they could to get a conviction on their trumped up charges against Him. I read again how Pilate finally granted their wishes, and turned Jesus over to be brutally tortured and crucified. Jesus hung on the cross for about 3 hours, between 12- 3pm most believe. I took a motorcycle ride with my daughter Ansley, and we reflected on awful events of that day. The incredible love of the Father and the Son, all for us, overwhelmed me with humble gratitude and praise.

Sunday morning was beautiful. I got up around 6:30am, and enjoyed my prayer time thanking God for that beautiful morning over 2000 years ago, when Jesus conquered sin and death and walked out of the tomb. That was the subject of our Bible story time in RockiTown. Imagine the broken hearts and shattered dreams of Jesus' followers, after watching their Savior brutalized, executed, then buried on Friday. "What do we do now?" I imagine them saying. Like Peter once told Jesus, "Who else could we could turn to? Only You have the words of eternal life." And now that all seemed lost. Since we know how the story goes, we forget that Jesus' followers didn't have that luxury. As the women arrived that morning at dawn, they only hoped to be able to get inside the tomb, to finish the job of preparing Jesus' body for permanent burial. As far as they knew, it was all over. But in fact, it had only just begun...

I imagine the shock, fear, confusion, then clarity and exhilaration at the news that Jesus was not in the grave, He was alive! And like John said at the beginning of his first letter, "What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our own eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, this we proclaim concerning the Word of Life." This is no fairy tale, no myth or legend, no figment of someones overactive imagination. He was alive, and is today. That truth gives me hope, meaning, purpose, and the assurance that one day, I will rise again as well, to spend eternity with Him forever. That is the living hope for all who follow Jesus.

"I have overcome the world..." -Jesus

As I'm sitting here, its cold and rainy outside, but I don't mind. We're in the month of March. I'm always glad when it arrives. No matter how dreary and dismal the winter has been, March brings several things that encourage me. First, March brings Daylight Savings Time. That means longer days are coming. The skies are brighter when I rise in the morning, and there is now daylight for my drive home from work. Second, March brings the first blooms of Spring. Our daffodils are sprouting all over the yard, and I can see the buds beginning to stretch open on our dogwoods. Third, warmer days are becoming more common. Temperatures can still be quite cool in the mornings, but often rise into the 60's and even low 70's during the day. For me, that is perfect motorcycle weather!

Spring is coming. After what seems like the longest, coldest, wettest, most depressing winter I can ever remember here in Georgia, winter's grasp is beginning to loosen. Slowly, day by day, the world is coming alive again. And with it, so are my spirits. Even if we have another cold snap (which is very likely here!), and even another freak snow storm (that's happened before as well), I can take it in stride knowing the warmth and beauty of spring is drawing ever closer.

I believe March speaks to us of another change our hearts long for. For those of us who know Jesus Christ, we also know a day is coming where all of our cold, dismal days of this life will give way to eternal light, eternal warmth, eternal joy. A spring without end. Every bloom that pops up, every bud that sprouts on every tree, speaks to me of the day when this temporary world will pass away, and we will be ushered in to a new heaven and new earth, awash in endless beauty, light, and love.

Sure, there is beauty to behold in winter- fresh snow like a white blanket on the ground, ice crystals frozen on tree limbs, frost patterns on my windows, and the brilliance of a winter sun & moon. But nothing compares with the feeling of spring. And yes, there is great beauty in this world, this life- a sunset over the mountains, the warm embrace of my wife, the yellow & white blossom of a daffodil. But we can't even imagine the sights, sounds, and smells of the "spring" that awates us. I know its coming one day, as sure as the earthly spring is just around the corner now.

A butterfly landed on my chest yesterday. It was a pleasant surprise- I was walking down the stone path beside my house, when suddenly it flitted up and landed right on my shirt. The butterfly was small, with red and black wing patterns. The first one I'd seen since last fall. I paused, watching as it flexed its wings. Then off it flew. I stood there a moment, watching flit away. And I was reminded, spring is coming. Our earthly season of spring, and one day, the "season without end", eternal spring. I long for both.

I love the Winter Olympics. Every four years, I can't wait to watch them. I actually enjoy the Winter Games way more than the Summer Games when they come around. I don't know why that is- I don't participate in any winter sports myself. I don't ice skate, never played hockey, I'm a lousy skier, and a nominal snowboarder at best. But there is something about the winter Olympics every four years that just capture my attention & imagination. They are almost magical, mythic, to me. The snow-covered, mountainous locations, the exotic places like Lillehammer, Nagano, Torino, and Vancouver, the other-worldly beauty of each country's opening & closing ceremonies...they all just enchant me.

And of course, there are the heroes of each Games. I remember the Austrian, Franz Klammer, rocketing down the mountain in the 1976 Olympics. I became a fan of downhill skiing watching him. And the unlikely champions of the 1980 Games, the US hockey team, and their staggering win over the undefeated Soviets. What a moment. I remember watching Olaf "The Boss" Koss defeat the "Flying Dutchmen" to win gold in speedskating at Lillehammer, I think. I've never been a fan of men's figure skating, but watching Scott Hamilton do backflips on the ice, and win several golds in 1984, was amazing. And of course, the first time I ever saw this little American guy with long hair and a bandanna, Apolo Ohno, win gold in Torino, I became a fan of short track speed skating. I could go on- so many heroes, so many many memories.

These Olympics have not disappointed either! Bode Miller medaling 3x, Lindsey Vonn & Julia Mancuso medaling several times each, all three in downhill, etc., has been spell-binding. Every time Apolo races, I'm on the edge of my seat, cheering him on now with 8 medals! And in the ski jump, witnessing Simon Amman jump 145 meters, he looked like he was going to land in the parking lot! Amazing. Then Steve Holcomb and his team win the first USA gold in bobsled in 62 years. But nothing can top watching Shaun White win the gold with super-human stunts and height in the snowboard half pipe, then with the gold already his, doing one last run that included a trick no one had ever attempted before, much less landed, was nothing short of fantastic. Even watching the couples' ice dancing (again, not one of my faves), and to see the young Canadians win all-around gold- their pure joy, the crowd's hysteria, was a proud moment not only for Canada, but we were cheering them, as well. Although I had hoped for a USA win in men's hockey, esp. on the 30-year anniversary of the "Miracle on Ice", I'm proud for Canada to have won on home ice, in the sport they invented. Even the closing ceremonies were moving and thrilling. Greatest Olympics I've ever watched.

Ah, I love the Winter Olympics. There's something about them that touch me deeply- the thrills, the chills, the splendor, the unity, the beauty. Maybe they remind me of an adventure we were created for, a unity and beauty that awaits us, and a triumph & celebration we will share one day ourselves, with our Creator, Savior, and Lover, our Lord.

"No eye has seen, no ear has heard, nor has it even entered the mind of man, what God has prepared for those who love Him..." 1 Corinthians 2:9

I'm in the middle of a book that is forcing me to think in some new ways. The book, "Crazy Love" by Francis Chan, addresses the amazing, unfathomable, furious love of our eternal God, and what our real response should be- total and complete surrender and abandon to Him. The first three chapters describe the wonder and majesty of God as found in His Word the Bible, and the infinitely complex, breath-taking universe He has made to display His glory. Amazing chapters. I found myself stopping often to search the Scriptures Chan would reference, and just let them sink in.

The chapters I'm in right now, 4 & 5, address the all-too-often inadequate response we humans make to this indescribable God. Using the parable Jesus told of the sower, the seed, and the soils, Chan makes a case for the hard truth that much of the American Church is the "thorny soil"-the Gospel is sown among us, but for far too many, it gets choked out by life's worries and the pursuit of prosperity and pleasure. Chan writes, "A relationship with God simply cannot grow when money, sins, activities, favorite sports teams, addictions, or commitments are piled on top." Then using the Revelation 3 description of lukewarm, half-hearted, nominally-committed people, Chan systematically contrasts it with passages that describe Jesus' call to whole-hearted followship. Chan's assertion- a lukewarm Christian is an oxymoron. Jesus calls us to "deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Me." All or nothing. Chan states, "The thought of a person calling himself a Christian without being a devoted follower of Christ is absurd." This is found throughout the Bible, everywhere you look.

He's not saying that if you go through periods of stagnation or struggle you are not a Christian, as we all fall and fail in our attempts to follow Christ. But he is saying that if a person claims to have "prayed a prayer" inviting Christ in their life at some point, yet Jesus only gets fitted in when & where its convenient, getting the "leftovers", then its likely that person never really gave their life to Christ. Chan asserts, "Following Christ isn't something that can be done half-heartedly or on the side. It is not a label we can display when it is useful. It must be central to everything we do and are." All or nothing.

Yet how many of us live like this? How many of us are willing to say to God that He can have whatever He wants from us? That whole-hearted abandon to Him is more important than any other person or thing in this life? That nothing in this life really matters, unless it is about loving God and demonstrating His love to a world that desperately needs Him? After reading to them Jesus' final parable of the sheep and the goats in Matthew 25:31-46, I told the kids in both hours of RockiTown Sunday that, "How much I love other people is good evidence of how much I really love God."

Love- from God, for God, for others. Nothing else really matters.

I attended the funeral of an old friend today. Skip Cooper was 61 when he passed away Sunday, after a long, painful battle with cancer. Hearing of his death, then being with his family before the funeral, brought back many memories from over 20 years ago.
I first met Skip when I was hired by Clarkston Baptist Church as their Youth & Recreation Pastor in 1989. Skip was a deacon, a bus driver for the youth group, and a coach & director in our basketball leagues. In the 3 short years I was there, Skip became my closest friend, and closest ally, in the church. We were creative, trying new things and taking big chances, in an effort to reach people not only for our youth group and rec. leagues, but mostly for Jesus Christ. I caught heat from people in the church, as well as other staff members, over the changes we would try to implement, but Skip once told me, "You just do what you believe God is telling you to do, and don't worry about the complainers. If you do that, I'm with you. I got your back." Skip went with us on summer retreats, on winter ski trips, you name it. Even though he was 15 years older than me, and had a son and daughter in the youth group (Brian & Allison), Skip and I became close friends. Even after I left to go on staff with First Baptist Snellville, we kept in touch with Skip & Sherri, who like Lisa & I by then, had another child, Jason, the same year Ansley was born.
Over the miles and years since, we gradually lost contact with the Coopers. We left FBC Snellville in late 1999 for Hebron Baptist, and the Coopers moved to Snellville as their two older children went off to college, got married, started families of their own. I reconnected with Brian & Allison on Facebook last year, as well as many of the old "Clarkston kids," nearly all of which have children of their own now as well. And it was through FB that I heard of Skip's losing battle with cancer, and his passing this past Sunday.
As I sat in that chapel during his funeral, I couldn't help but think that, while we down here were mourning his passing, Skip was enjoying a reunion in Heaven. An amazing thought- he said goodbye to his friends & loved ones here, but was met by an enthusiastic group of friends & loved ones at the gates of Heaven, those who had gone on before him. I find myself at times longing for the healing, wholeness, and joyful reunion that awaits me one day, but acknowledging that there is still much to do here, more people to reach for Christ. The preacher who spoke quoted the late Jim Elliot, missionary who gave his life to further the Gospel-
"He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep, to gain what he cannot lose."
Skip's life certainly modeled that. I hope mine always does as well, until its my time to go home too.
I'll see you again someday, old friend. But not yet. Not yet.

I'm reflecting on the previous year, and the previous decade. 2009 was a good year, capping off an eventful decade. So much happened in the world over the past 10 years- "9-11", the war in terror, Hurricane Katrina, tsunamis, our first African/American president, economic boom followed by economic scandals & collapse, amazing technological advances, etc. The 2000's were an eventful time, to be sure.

In my own life, I joined the staff at Hebron Baptist, and been there ever since. I had two firsts, at the same time- had my first major traffic accident and broke major bones, in my motorcycle accident. Lisa & I celebrated our 20th anniversary, we both entered our 40s, our girls came of age and started driving, finishing school, beginning college. We both had parents entering their 70s, and celebrated major milestones in their own marriages.

What will this coming year hold? The coming decade? I can't say with any certainty. Who knows what will happen in the world, what will happen in America, what will happen in my life? A few things are certain- Lisa & I will both enter our 50s, our parents will enter their 80s, our girls will enter careers and likely get married and start families. I may even become a grandfather! Now that's a weird thought...

Each decade seems to have its own identity, its own collection of images that define it for those who lived in it. However the next year and the next decade will be defined, in the world and in my life, I know only this- I want my life to be defined by a growing, deepening walk with God, with my wife, with all those I love. I want to still be useful in service to Him, and I want my life to point others to Him.

My God carried me and my family over the past year and decade. I entrust myself, and all I hold dear, to God in the coming year, the coming decade. He is truly the only sure thing.

Its Christmas Day night. After a whirlwind couple of days, its nice to finally sit down with nothing ahead of me to do, or some place to be. Christmas Eve saw us frantically cooking, wrapping the last of the presents, and cleaning up to attend our church's Christmas Eve celebration. This was at 4pm, and by 5:15 we were heading home for dinner. Some friends came over, and by 10:30pm we were on our way to Grayson UMC for their annual midnight candlelight service, something we've been attending for about 6 years. I think I finally got in bed about 2pm, after some Christmas "final preparations."
Today was even busier. We got up early and did our family Christmas morning together. After presents, we loaded up and drove to my parent's place on Lake Oconee. We enjoyed exchanging gifts with them, and a big Christmas lunch my mom had fixed. By 3pm we were on the road again, driving to Peachtree City for gifts and dinner with Lisa's side of the family. They are always so much fun to spend the day with. Needless to say, I was stuffed and exhausted as we finally pulled back into our own home about 10pm. We had spent nearly 6 hours on the road between destinations, and ate way too much in one day.
As I sit here tonight, the Christmas tree lights still on, the gifts all unwrapped, the leftovers in the refridge, I'm reflecting on the past 2 days. Its been beyond busy- its been downright hectic! But I wouldn't trade the time spent with people I love for anything. My wife & girls, my side of the family, Lisa's family, our church family & friends- these contribute to the warmth of the season for me. And every year the story of the Incarnation, the birth of our Savior, God coming to us by becoming one of us, is made fresh in my imagination and in my heart all over again. It never gets old with me. There is always something new to see and understand, something new to experience, in the Christmas story. Amidst all the noise, lights, crowds, etc., He can still be found, by those willing to search like the shepherds and wise men of old.
I just watched the music video of Faith Hill's "A Baby Changes Everything." What a beautiful song about the birth of the Savior! He did change everything- in the course of human events, in man's access and relationship to God, and in own life as well. The world will never be the same, whether people like it or not. And I certainly will be never be the same either.
That's Christmas.

I'm sitting here watching our Christmas tree, still lit up before I unplug everything and go to bed. As I look it all over, I see ornaments that bring back memories, ornaments that recall stories for me. I see many old, hand-made ones from when the girls were small, in grade school and even preschool. How some of these have survived over the years is amazing to me. I see ones given to us by old friends, others given to us by friends from previous churches served, that we have lost contact with. I see a silver bell bearing the date, "Noel 1987"- our first Christmas together. I see another one given me by a friend after 9-11-01, commemorating that date in brass. We have a couple that were hand-painted and hand-carved by one of Lisa's relatives, and another that is made of gold, and shaped by a craftsman in Israel. Two of my favorites are ones with the girl's pictures in them, when Ansley was 8 and Kelsey was 6, that were made at New Orleans Seminary when I went down to graduate in 1998. And like on every parents' tree, there are the customary plaster-of-Paris, hand-painted angels they did so many years ago as well.

I've been to people's houses who have these perfect, color-coordinated, professional, cultured, sophisticated Christmas trees- you know the kind I'm talking about. Those are truly beautiful, works of art to be admired in perfectly decorated homes. I'm not knocking those who craft their trees with precision to perfection. But I much prefer our Christmas tree- it may not be the prettiest by some standards, but nearly each decoration tells a story, and each strand is hung as a family. In a literal sense, this is my "family tree", chronicling the years of our marriage and our children.

And every year, I hope we'll still find a way to hang a new memory on one of its branches.

Today in our Children's Church hours we studied the familiar passage in Mark 2, when 4 guys busted a hole in the roof of a house to lower a paralyzed friend down for Jesus to heal. Its a great story from the Gospels, in so many ways- How Jesus forgave his sin first, how the religious leaders present thought that was blasphemy, then Jesus also healed the man physically, and he walked out in front of God and everybody. Dramatic account, no doubt.
The part I was struck with though, was the determination of those 4 guys. They were willing to do whatever was necessary to put their crippled friend in front of Jesus, and see what might happen. As I prepared earlier in the week, I noted several things. First, these guys are never named. We have no idea who they were. We do know this, however- they believed Jesus was indeed who He said He was. Second, we don't know how the paralyzed guy came to be that way. Either he was born that way, or in some tragic accident he lost the use of his legs or worse. One thing is certain- he could not possibly get himself to Jesus. I think it might have been an accident, because these guys were so determined to see him healed. Had he been born that way, I don't know, folks might have just accepted it as his fate. Just speculating...
Anyway, whatever the cause, these 4 guys knew Who held the cure. I imagine them carrying their disabled friend down the dusty streets, to the house Jesus was teaching in, only to find the place jam-packed with people; filling the house, the windows, the doors, the yard, all trying to see and hear. Most folks would have decided to wait, many would have just given up and carried him back home, but not these guys. Their desperation led to innovation. They climbed up on the flat roof, pulled their bedsheet-bound friend up, then proceeded to smash a gaping hole through roof.
Imagine being in the room while Jesus is teaching. Suddenly, everyone hears loud thumping sounds coming from above, then some dust starts falling, and in minutes, the whole roof caves in! People are screaming, diving out of the way of the falling debris, coughing on the heavy cloud of dust... and as the dust settles, there is Jesus standing over a paralyzed man who had been lowered through the roof. And the rest is history.
A third grader asked me between one of the hours, "What did they do about the hole in the roof?" Great question! Somebody would have to pay for it, somebody would have to rebuild it. I imagine these 4 guys were more than willing, given the fantastic result in their friend's life. They saw an opportunity to bring their friend to Jesus, and they threw caution to the wind in the effort. They got all they came for, and more- their once-crippled friend was not only physically healed, he was made whole in the inside, more importantly.
Then I wonder, how many of us have that kind of determination and even desperation to bring our friends to a place where they can experience Jesus? So often, I don't. I tend to think of too many reasons it won't work, or they won't want to, or the timing won't be right, etc. Bottom line, I can come up with too many excuses. Sometimes, all we need to do is simply share the love of Christ in some tangible way with people, that opens up opportunities to verbally share Him. Other times we can bring our friends, like the 4 friends in Mark 2, to where Jesus is (His Church), so they have opportunity to experience Him. Whatever the occasion, I want to have more of the guts and creativity those 4 guys had. I want to be someone who has a "whatever it takes" attitude about bringing people to Jesus. In light of all eternity, that's all that will really matter- who we brought with us along the way.
If I could write my own epitaph, I would want it to say, "He followed Christ, and brought others along." I think that's the legacy of those 4 anonymous friends, and I hope one day it will be said of me as well.

In preparation for this Sunday's Bible lesson in RockiTown, I was reading in 2 Kings 7. This obscure, little known account is full of tremendous Biblical truth. To really get the whole picture of what is happening, one must look back at ch. 6:24-33. The Syrian king waged war against the Hebrews, and laid siege to the fortified city of Samaria. Siege was a military tactic whereby an army would completely surround a city, cutting off all escape and reinforcement, while constantly attacking its walls and gates. Sometimes, a siege could last for months, even years. If the army couldn't overcome the city's defenses, they would starve them out. This was the case with the siege of Samaria.

The famine in the city became so desperate, people were eating anything they could (donkey heads, bird dung, etc.), even resorting to cannibalism. In a dramatic confrontation with a woman who had done this, the Hebrew king tore his clothes in rage and grief, and sent word to have Elisha, God's prophet, beheaded, believing somehow he was responsible for the judgment of God upon the city.

In ch. 7, Elisha predicted the end of the siege and famine, the following day! As was often the case, there were lepers outside the city gates, not allowed within the city due to their illness, and starving also. They finally decided to act, reasoning, "Hey, if we stay here, we'll die. If we try to get back inside, we'll die. Let's go over to the Syrians, and see if they will have pity and feed us. The worst they can do is kill us as well, so what do we have to lose?" Unknown to everyone, God had caused a sound of a mighty army coming upon them to terrify the Syrians, and they fled during the night in a panic, leaving everything behind- tents, clothes, money, weapons, horses, and especially vast amounts of food. As the 4 lepers entered the camp, they were astonished to find the whole siege camp abandoned. They began to gorge themselves on food, cover themselves with clothes, even took and hid some of the wealth. It was a "bonanza."

Then they came to a realization- "We are not doing right. This day is a day of good news, but we are keeping silent...let's go tell the king's household." They returned to the city gates, still unable to get in, so they shouted to the gatekeepers all they had found. And the the rest, as they say, is history.

As I've been thinking on this whole incident, I see one profound truth: making an amazing discovery that would save lives, and then keeping it from them, is among the worst of sins. Even though these guys had been ostracized and driven away by their own people, they had enough compassion for those dying within the gates to go share the incredible find. And yet, we as Christ followers possess the most amazing, beautiful, life-changing news in the history of the universe- "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." People can be set free from the siege of sin, death, and condemnation, through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, and yet we all too often keep it to ourselves. We distance ourselves from those who need to hear the Good News, are afraid to tell them, or sadly, we just don't care enough. Even though the world outside our churches is becoming increasingly hostile to our faith, and wants to push us "outside the gate", we need a God-inspired burden and passion to share the message of Christ with them anyway. Many will hear and reject, but many will hear and heed. Like the lepers in the account, we are all mere ragamuffins who have found the abundance of life in Christ, and are pointing other ragamuffins where they can "find bread."

"How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news of good things!" Romans 10:15, Isaiah 52:7

I read an amazing article in the latest edition of "HomeLife" magazine, of all places. Entitled "In the Flesh" by Scottish writer Christian George, it addresses the astonishing truth of God in human form, Jesus Christ, in a new and refreshing way. The article had my attention from the opening lines-

"Let's get right down to business. Jesus took off His clothes. From the beginning of time, He planned to trade heavenly silk for soiled humanity...What a thought! That God would feel the fever of an infection and the throb of a headache... God stripped Himself that we might be clothed."

I don't think we fully appreciate the stupendous declaration found in John 1:14- "The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us." We miss the utter vulgarity & seeming absurdity of deity setting aside glory and trading it all for dirty humanity. As George further explains, "Jesus knew pain firsthand. He was not an airbrushed model who never knew a wart or wrinkle. No, God became real blood and real bone."

Last Sunday night, Kevin Miller explored this further in his sermon. Addressing the heights and depths of deity putting on humanity, he began by pointing out where Jesus came from. Reading from Isaiah 6:1-4, he "pulled back the veil" so to speak, revealing the incomprehensible glory and majesty Jesus came to us from. A massive throne, the Lord seated on it, His robe filling the temple, with 6-winged creatures flying about Him, shouting His praise, His glory like smoke filling the chamber, and His voice shaking the foundations. It reminded me of a similar scene that John saw and recorded in Revelation 4:1-11. That passage defies description. To read it and try to imagine it is beyond comprehension. A description would fail here. Go read it.

And yet Jesus left all that to put on human skin, and start off a helpless human baby. The Jews were looking for a military messiah, who would rescue them from the Romans and restore the kingdom of David, making them a world power again. Instead, God did just the opposite. Jesus became a man from a dirt-poor little town, who never traveled farther than 100 miles from His birth home, and was mocked, ridiculed, spit on, beaten, and rejected by those He came to save. "How odd of God!" George exclaims in his article. And yet as he points out, Jesus understands what its like to be in our skin. "He knew the agony, numbness, and intensity of being human. No other 'god' took so radical a jump as Jesus... The incarnation (literally 'into flesh') is unique to Christianity because the kamikaze Christ plunged into death so that we might have life. Because Jesus was man, God identifies with us. Because Jesus was divine, we identify with God."

I found myself in Isaiah 53 a couple of days ago in my morning quiet time. The passage describes the complete degradation and humiliation the Christ would endure for fallen humanity. When I read it all, and thought back over the Isaiah 6 and Revelation 4 chapters, I was dumbfounded at the "furious love of God" for us, as Rich Mullins used to describe it. That Jesus would leave all that He left behind (creatures specifically created to constantly worship Him, for pete's sake!) to walk among us and endure what He did at our hands, all to restore us to a right relationship to the Father- leaves me speechless before Him. My praise and worship seems so inadequate.

Yet I will praise Him, with my words and my works- this upcoming holiday season, the rest of my life, and all eternity.

"My utmost, for His highest."

Yesterday I rode down to Watkinsville, to test-ride a cool bike I saw at a motorcycle shop down there. For some time now, I've gotten the itch for another motorcycle- not getting rid of my Royal Star (I love that bike), but a 2nd bike. I've wanted a small sport/street bike, something small & lightweight, just to knock around town & ride the back roads locally. I've looked at the Ducati Monster 620, Kawasaki Ninja 500, and the Yamaha FZ6. Not a new one, but a few years old. I don't really have the $$ for one now, but hopefully in a couple of years I'll be able to.

Anyway, I had ridden down to this shop last week (see prev. post), and saw a used bike there I had never seen before- a 1989 Honda Hawk 650. I was smitten with it- one of the coolest-looking little bikes I've seen in a long time! And being that old, they are really cheap to come by. I spent the past week studying them on the web, and decided I had to ride this only one I found anywhere local. It did not disappoint! I rode it a few miles, and although its an entirely different ride than my big bike, it was a lot of fun, and very easy to handle. I thanked the moto-shop guys, and headed for home.

On the way back north, I began to think about the experience. I asked God if it be His will, when the time was right and the $$ were available, I'd love to have one. Then a Bible verse popped into my head- "Godliness with contentment is great gain." I prayed, "Father, I really love this bike you've given me to enjoy for so many years & miles now. It definitely has been a gift from you. If another bike ever comes, I will thank you. If not, I will thank you. I have been blessed more than I deserve, in every area of my life."

So often, we think God is not interested in our happiness & pleasure. "My God will supply all of your needs,..." And yet, He gives us the ability to enjoy, and so much to enjoy, in this life. He is joy, and desires we live in joy. He does often give us our wants, within His will for our lives. Yet I think sometimes I want more than I should want. Giving us joy and pleasure must be balanced against contentment. And with all He blesses me with, every day of my life, I certainly have much to be joyful about, and much to be content with.

"Godliness with contentment is great gain." 1 Timothy 6:6

I took the day off today, after an extremely busy weekend. I needed it, too. I did a wedding for a couple in our church Friday night, after a Thursday night rehearsal. Saturday we spent trying to fix several problems around the house, not the least of which has been a short somewhere in our electrical system, that keeps tripping a breaker to about 4 sets of lights on our main floor. My dad came up to help, and we spent much of the day trying to trace down the problem, taking apart fixture after fixture, as well as outlets. We never found the problem, even with Lisa's dad's help on Sunday afternoon. Its driving me up the wall.
On top of this, Kelsey's Homecoming game & dance were this weekend, which meant she and her girlfriends were in and out Friday & Saturday, getting ready, taking pictures, etc. That all was fun, actually- a welcome, although hectic, break from electrical problems! All their group pictures with dates were taken here, so there were over 12 cars in our driveway at one point. Ansley stayed busy as well, with a friend of hers up from south Georgia both days.
With all that, plus my Sunday morning duties, it was an exhausting weekend.
Thankfully, the weather was great today, so I layered up and took off on a moto ride. I love this time of year, when the temps are cooler, the leaves are beginning to change, and I can go ride under clear, crisp, sunny days. I rode some backroads down to Watkinsville, got a late lunch at a chicken place I know of, then visited a local Ducati shop I enjoy stopping in on occasionally. I finally pulled back home around 4pm, a little chilly but very refreshed.
Nothing like a good, extended ride on my bike to "untangle the knots." I thanked God for the relationships with both sides of our family, for the memories we are still making with our girls, and for a nice, cozy roof over our head, even if it seems we are always working on something! And yet I am thankful for the quiet moments, the times of solitude, that help me reconnect with my heart, and the heart of God. Rolling down a road at 50-60 mph on a wide-open motorcycle may not seem relaxing to many, but to those who ride, in a hard-to-explain way, it is. And I'm thankful for those few moments I have. God meets me there, and I am refreshed and renewed.

I returned home last night from a 4-day road trip with my dad & mom. This was the first time we brought mom along, and the 3 of us had a great time riding the roads of NE Alabama. I rode down Monday morning to their lake house, where we loaded up the bikes in their "toy-hauler" and headed west for Alabama. It took most of the day to finally arrive at Desoto State Park on Lookout Mtn. We set up camp, built a fire, and planned out the next day's ride.

Tuesday morning arrived cool and clear, but I awoke with an upset stomach, so we delayed our departure until about noon. I finally felt good enough to ride, so we pulled out and rode down to Desoto Falls. These falls are spectacular! A 3-tiered falls, that finally plunges over 100 ft into its own canyon, we stood in awe of the majesty of the roaring waters. Standing near the edge and looking over was almost dizzying- the roar of the waters, the depth of the gorge, the sheer cliffs carved out by the power of water- it was an amazing moment. We rode on over to Little River Falls and Canyon next. These falls were not as high as Desoto Falls, but still over 45 ft high, and wider. We were able to walk around near the edge, but careful not to step too close to the edges. Funny, we saw signs at both places saying, "Jumping Prohibited From The Falls." I'm sure there have been idiots to tried it anyway! The sound of rushing waters and the roar of the falls called to mind the verse in the Bible that describes the voice of God as that of "the sound of many waters." My mother could have stayed there all day, soaking in the sound of the falls. After riding some more beautiful mountain roads, we made our way back to the campsite for supper and sitting by the campfire, under a bright moon. Perfect ending to day 1.

Wednesday we saddled up and rode down into the valley to the town of Ft. Payne. This is the home of the legendary country super-group Alabama, and there are memorials to them everywhere. We visited the Ft Payne Train Depot & Museum, the Opera House, several noteworthy stores and cafe's, and took pictures with larger-than-life statues of the band at the Alabama Memorial in the middle of town. What a great little town! Lots of inspiration there for country music, for sure.

We then rode back up the mountain and hopped on the Lookout Mtn. Parkway, and rode it along the ridge all the way down to Gadsden. There we found the Noccalula Falls & Gorge. This waterfall drops 90 ft. into the Black Creek ravine, where water has carved out a fascinating deeply-rounded cavern underneath. We then visited the Gadsden-Etowah County War Memorial, with tributes to those who gave their lives from that region from WW I to Gulf War I. It was a small but fitting tribute. We saddled up and rode back up the Parkway to Desoto, and again enjoyed supper by a warm campfire under a rising bright moon. Ahh, soothes the soul.

Thursday brought a change of plans. We had planned to stay an extra day and ride Thursday over to Cloudland Canyon, and return home Friday, but something told me to examine my rear tire. A look revealed a shock- the tread had nearly worn completely down all along the center, and in one spot the tread had worn smooth. I couldn't believe it! I knew the tire was getting worn, but I thought I could make it through this trip before replacing it. That was not to be. Rather than risking another 100-200 miles on it in another state, we sadly broke camp and loaded everything up for the long trip home. It was a beautiful drive, heading SE out of the Alabama mountains & hill country, back into sunny GA. I kept thinking about how I'd love to be riding this home on my bike, rather than in my mom & dad's truck. They reminded me of what I really already knew- God is in control, and who knows but that He might have saved us from a situation that could have been anywhere from inconvenient to catastrophic.

I actually did get to finish the trip on my bike, however. We drove to Oxford GA, where we unloaded my bike for the ride home, and my parents turned south toward their lake house. I rode back home under a nearly full moon over my right shoulder, praising God for the great sights & memories of our trip together. There will be other trips, I am hopeful.

Tomorrow- a new tire!