Valentine's Day

To my dear Evelyn, 

Someday I'll take you on a date;
Today we played in your toy kitchen. You made us eggs.

Someday I'll buy you flowers;
Today you loved Cap'n Crunch. 

Someday I'll take you to see a chick flick;
Today we watched VeggieTales. 

Someday you'll rock a Valentine's dress;
Today we stayed in PJs for a long time.  

Someday you'll put in headphones and listen to your music; 

Today you sang "Itsy Bitsy Spider" with me. 

Someday you'll leave to go hang out with your friends;
Today you sat and read books with me. 

Someday you'll roll your eyes at my jokes;
Today, little things I did made you giggle. 

Someday we'll talk about philosophy;  
Today we played "Peek-a-boo."

Someday you'll be busy;
Today you snuggled in my arms. 

Someday I'm going to look back and just wish I could relive today;
Today was a great day.

I love you today, someday, and forever, Princess. 

- Daddy <3

That's Not My Job

Over the last few years, life seems to be moving in overdrive as the Lord has laid out a path for me that has provided undeniably some of the greatest blessings of my life, while also stretching me in ways I hadn't yet experienced. It seems that, in a relatively short period of time, virtually all of the roles that I play in my life have changed (as we've all naturally experienced) - some fading out of the picture, many changing in paradigm-shifting ways, and two of my biggest and most treasured roles - becoming husband and daddy - being established for the first time. These roles in particular have allowed me to experience previously unplumbed depths of both joy and responsibility.

While I don't consider myself to be an anxious person, two particular concerns carry a special amount of pressure for me. Since getting married, every time I look toward the future, I've found myself consistently battling anxiety and fear on two fronts: (1) career - knowing where provision (income) will be coming from, and (2) knowing where we will be living. As I look ahead toward graduating in May with my Master's and not knowing what the Lord has for me and my family beyond that, these questions continue to loom in the back of my mind. And as is His way, the Lord met me and my fears earlier this week with His heart for us found in Luke 12:13-48. I hope you're similarly encouraged.

Luke 12 is full of very well-known verses, particularly on the topic of God's provision, so I wasn't terribly blown away by them. What caught my attention was the context of those verses. Verse 13-21 tell the story of a rich man who, having more possessions than he had the means to store it all, tore down all his barns and built bigger ones, so that he could horde his possessions. His mindset was that with so much provision stored up, he would not need to fear the unknown of the future. God chides the rich man as a fool and reminds him that not only does God truly hold sovereign power over all the riches and all the provision of this world, but when your life is over, you can't take any of this with you. The portion ends with Jesus warning those who are rich in this world, but not rich toward God.

"He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose" - Jim Elliott

"Therefore," - in light of this truth - "do not be anxious about your life..." God never does anything "just because." There is Sovereign, loving purpose behind all that He does and a desire for His glory and our good in all of his commandments. So, his command for us to "be anxious for nothing" isn't trivial. God has proven His faithfulness throughout history, and just reminded us through the story of the foolish rich man that we are not ultimately in control of either the provision for our lives or the uncertainties of the future. Only God is. So anxiety is a sin - it tells God that I don't trust Him and that I don't think he is reliable to provide for me or my family.

"Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." - Luke 12:32-34

Jesus tenderly reminds us that our Father wants to see His Kingdom realized in and through us, and that if we seek that as of first importance - practically, tangibly, daily - He will provide for the rest. Just like our earthly treasures, heavenly treasures come from God, but death will unite us with them, not take them from us.

Now, imagine that you're hired by a company to do a particular job. There are tasks and responsibilities that your employer trusts you to complete as part of the position that you fill at the company. At the same time, there are undoubtedly tasks needing to be accomplished in the company that aren't considered to be a part of your position. If you decide to complete tasks assigned to someone else's job, you deprive them of the opportunity to complete the tasks assigned to them (most likely with greater skill than you, as they were hired for that specific role), while also expending valuable time and energy on assignments other than those you were hired to complete, thus neglecting your own responsibilities. The outcome is that the completion of both tasks suffers.

Jesus says that providing for the future isn't my job. Jesus says that knowing the future isn't my job. I'm in the service of the King, and as such my job responsibilities are pretty straightforward - seek His kingdom, serve His kingdom.

Jesus tells us elsewhere that His yoke is easy and His burden is light. I don't think this means that the life He promises us will be an easy one, but rather that it's straightforward and should be much easier to keep track of than the myriad of rules in the old covenant. "It's simple," He says, "your business is to love and serve the King - all the time in all that you do. Just do that and I'll take care of all the business expenses."

What an amazing and liberating calling! I get to love God and love people. I don't need to know where the provision is coming from or what the next year holds. That's not my job.

The Sprint

The Christian life is like waking up every morning and having Someone telling you to sprint hard toward a target in the distance. All day. Put all your heart and soul into the pursuit of what's on the horizon. "And by the way," the Someone tells you as you get ready to run, "you aren't going to make it there." Determined to prove them wrong, you get set at the starting block, and when the gunshot rings out, you take off at full sprint. But sure enough, you don't even come close. If the mark is at 10,000 meters, you barely make it 5,000. But as the sun dips below the horizon and you lift your face from the dirt, you see that the scoreboard shows that you've made it. The Someone ran the remainder in your place. Grateful, and exhausted, you let your head droop back to the ground and fall asleep.

The next morning you wake up, a little groggy and sore from the day before, and here stands Someone with a smile. "Alright, bud. Get ready to go. It's time to sprint toward the target on the horizon. Run hard, and an incomprehensible prize is waiting for you when you get there. But you're not going not make it today." And sure enough, the previous day's events repeat themselves. You fall exhausted and lift your weary head barely long enough to see that Someone ran the rest for you.

The sun rises the next day and Someone is right there waiting for you. "Get up. It's time to run. I promise it will be worth it when you get there." So off you run. And fall. And find that grace has credited you with the balance, but you never fully experience the prize.

Finally, one day you're running, just like every other day before. You've gotten stronger over the years, your muscles more sculpted, your form has improved, and you're far more agile than you were on Day 1. No longer resentful of a calling that formerly seemed futile, you suddenly find yourself transported in a moment to the horizon, and to the prize that was promised. The race has been run for good and your reward is at hand.

Jesus never promised that the race he's called us to run would be easy. But we're called nonetheless. His grace makes up for our shortcoming, but doesn't negate the fact that we're called to get up again and run tomorrow. Run hard - knowing that we will fall short, yet still determined to run with all our might again tomorrow, because He who called us deserves nothing less. Not only should the grace that credits us with a full race despite our failure be our motivation to run again tomorrow, but His faithfulness to take us all the way to the finish line one day is our hope. 

"He who calls you is faithful. He shall surely do it." 1 Thess. 5:24

Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread

In stewarding my roles as a husband and a father, as well as a career artist, one of the primary anxieties I am often prone to is that of providing for my family. Sure – we have provision in this season; and despite seasons of tightening our belts a bit, we’ve never truly faced desperate, monetary need. And yet, I find myself, on a pretty regular basis, worrying about the future. What happens after grad school? What happens when – God-willing – more kids are added to our merry band and Sandra moves to part-time work or perhaps full-time, stay-at-home mommyhood? What if I can’t provide? What if the provision that the Lord has consistently made for us suddenly dries up and the opportunities that have been presented to us one after the other suddenly stop coming?

Last night, right before we went to sleep, Sandra and I prayed together, and to be honest it was pretty much my standard formula for a before-bed prayer. I thanked God for giving us a good day, for bringing us all home safely from our various endeavors; I asked Him to give us a good night’s rest and to help Evelyn to sleep through the night, and I thanked Him for providing for all of our needs. After an “amen” and a final “goodnight,” I rolled over to go to sleep. Suddenly, out of the blue, my mind went to the Lord’s Prayer, specifically the phrase, “Give us this day our daily bread.” Then I heard Holy Spirit clear as a bell. “You know, the reason Jesus told you to ask for your daily bread was so that you’d be able to stop worrying about it.” While perhaps not the most profound of revelations, it suddenly blew my mind with a series of implications that I knew in my head, but hadn’t rung true in my heart.

God doesn’t need to be informed of my needs (“Your Father knows what you need before you ask him” (Matt. 6:8), but he wants me to come to Him with them anyway. Philippians 4:6 says, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God.” Let every request be made known to God. How? With thanksgiving. Why? So you can let it go. Look at the promises of God. Look at his character. Has he not promised to give us all we need? (Psalm 37:25, Matt 6:30-32; 2 Peter 1:3) Has he not guaranteed both his sovereignty (“Our God is in the heavens; He does all that He pleases.” Psalm 115:3) and his love? (“He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” Romans 8:32) What better state to be in than to be, through Christ, in good standing with the all-powerful, all-loving ruler of the universe? And that is the true treasure. Has God promised to provide for all that we need? Yes. How? By giving us himself. Do we still need to pay the rent and put food on the table? Absolutely. But at the end of the day, God is after our hearts. He can send the rain or withhold it. But will we recognize that in either case, He is our Source? That He is still worthy of praise? Money and stuff isn’t going to last. The testimony of how we steward every season the Lord ordains is what will last. True freedom from anxiety comes in knowing that if our treasure is found in Christ, no matter what happens, we are provided for in the ways that actually matter. Then we can “know how to be brought low, and [we can] know how to abound… [We] can do all things through Christ who strengthens [us]” (Phil. 4:13). (Which, in contrast to the implication of a variety of Christian memorabilia, that verse is about contentment, not playing football or pole vaulting)

To whom will you look?

In Isaiah 17, continuing a series of condemning prophecies, Isaiah is foretelling the destruction of Damascus (fulfilled by Assyria in 732 B.C.). In the midst of the prophesied destruction, a remnant from Israel returns to God, repenting of their waywardness and idolatry. Speaking of this remnant, Isaiah states:

“In that day man will look to his Maker, and his eyes will look on the Holy One of Israel. He will not look to the altars, the work of his hands, and he will not look on what his own fingers have made, either the Asherim or the altars of incense.”

— Isaiah 17:7

While we all face daily difficulties and trials that require those whom God calls to draw near to Himself in increasing ways, there will come a day when not merely the foundations of our lives, but the foundations of the world itself are shaken by God’s doing. In that day, to whom will we turn? The remnant of Israel were utterly desperate. They knew in Whom their hope was fixed. They could not rely on military might nor strong political leaders. No religious articles of their day – the Asherim – could save them! Not even the Old Covenant elements established by God as a means of engaging with Him – the altars and altars of incense – could save them when the sky started to fall on them.

Some day the sky is going to fall again. While opinions and preferences and styles vary within God’s church, those who know their God will know where to fix their eyes when the ground begins to shake. The earthly elements that populate our spiritual practices – the church buildings, sound systems, and stage lights; the books, journals, apps, and audio sermons – may all aid us in our journey, so long as they serve as a true and untainting window to the God beyond them, not a mosaic to merely entertain us or make us feel self-righteous. In that day, fix your eyes on your Maker, the Holy One of Israel, in whose hands you are safe and loved, no matter what gives way around you. 

The Wrong Shall Fail, The Right Prevail

“Then peeled the bells more loud and deep
God is not dead, nor does He sleep
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men.”

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

For some reason, this particular text of this particular song has hit me very hard in recent years. Around Christmastime, we can hear a lot about hope and how Christ came to save us from our sins. We look to the reason why he came - to die in a substitutionary atonement for our sins so that we could be reconciled to the Father. The Gospel tells us how ugly and despicable our sins truly are in light of a holy God and the beauty and the glory of eternity with Christ, when God Himself is our treasure. But to be honest, many of those concepts, while true, are built almost or solely on the foundations of faith waiting for the final day when our faith shall be sight. Who has seen God face to face, so as to truly see for themselves the stark hideousness of their sin in the light of His glory? Who has truly grasped the depth of His love that would inspire Him to come, much less die, in our place? I understand these truths in my heart, but it requires a daily reminder to keep the fires of faith alive so that I might be constantly looking for His return.

But everyday, without fail, and without my purposefully seeking it out, I’m barraged with reminders of how wrong this world is. News headlines, Facebook statuses, phone calls, and texts, all day long, violently exhibiting the effects of the sin which my heart knows to be a reality. So whenever a book or movie, song lyric or piece of art, looks toward the coming of Christ through the eyes of the wrong being made right, my heart instantly breaks in a way I don’t know how to describe. It’s as if despair and hope have reached their capacity simultaneously. A complete and total righting of all that is wrong in this world? Once and for all? That is something that I can’t fathom. It’s impossible. 

But with God all things are possible.

Keep an eye to the sky. He’s promised us that one day, He will do it.

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men.