our christmas letter

This Christmas we find ourselves moseying into a new season of life. After four and a half great years in Indiana, and after a thousand prayers and conversations, we realized that God was calling us to a new start. We left the pastor life and pasture land of Corydon, IN for a new season in Knoxville, TN. I also left a busy calendar, 7-minute-through-the-county commute and a 1.5 acre lot for a blank calendar, gobs of traffic, and a rental house with a lot so small that the last guy mowed it with a weedeater. I wish I was joking. Still, it’s odd how life on a street with 65 houses in a bigger city can move at a slower pace than it did in a small country town.

I now serve with Emerald Youth Foundation, an urban youth foundation that I am becoming more impressed with by the week. We work with 1000 young people, 20 churches, 12 schools, and lots more I still don’t know all about. My family is also part of Cornerstone Church of Knoxville, and are more thankful for the church everyday. When we moved here, there were a dozen people in our driveway ready to move us in, and the church has continued to care for us in humbling ways. It’s hard to put into words how thankful we are for the church. It is incredible in every way.

Anne is a real-life Green Acres story. City living is the life for her. She is enjoying Knoxville. She is the busiest one in the family, but most of what she does goes unnoticed. She deals with diapers and potty training, tantrums and night-nights, trains and trucks and hotwheel cars and little boy clutter that is foreign to her. She is incredible with our little men. I read a GK Chesterton quote that says that motherhood is being shut up in a house with children during the most impressionable years of their lives, when they ask every question there is and some that are not. That is Anne’s life, and the boys and I are thankful for her sacrifice.

Wyatt is three and a half. He is in preschool two days a week and loves it. He has more friends than his parents. His favorite things include running, laughing, cars, the color red (he says, “I yike wred”), trains, running more, chicken and fries, books and his brother. He also thinks he helps raise his brother and will put him in time out if he feels the need. Our favorite is watching them hold hands as they cross a parking lot. Rex likes to be close to his brother. Wyatt likes the control. Here’s a glimpse into life with two little boys: Not too long ago Anne heard Wy yell, “No Baby Rex; I wanted to eat that booger.” They are gross animals that we couldn’t enjoy more.

Rex is one and a half and hilarious. He wrestles and squeezes and hugs and pounces; he’s a physical dude. He loves his brother more than his one-syllable words can express. They are frick and frack, in a wonderful and terrifying way. If they gang up on us we may call you for backup. Rex loves a full belly and often eats more than his mom. No joke. He enjoys books and his Curious George and sausage. His mind works like this: He will say, “Mama!... car.” “Daddy!... car.” Us: “Did you see a car?” Rex: “No.” That is a Rex conversation. He is a good time.

So in this new season our zip code is different, our boys are bigger and our lives are slower. God is still wonderful beyond words and we are blessed beyond measure. Whatever season you are in, I pray you can trust that God is guiding and that He knows the way better than you. “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven” Ecclesiastes 3:1 (ESV). I hope your season is as blessed as ours. Season’s Greetings.

signs of the age

Today I went to get my physical. I weighed in at over 200, which I have never come close to. I told the nurse that I guess that the stuff in my pockets and winter layers pushed me over. She told me, “Yeah, winter makes it easier to make excuses.” I hate nurses.

The doctor came in and we chit chatted. Soon he told me that he could see my scalp, which is "not normal." He informed me that I will go bald and told me about Propecia and how he can give me the 5mg version and I can break the tablet into fourths to save me money since I would be losing my hair soon. I think I hate doctors too.

I guess they are the signs of my age. I am 33 and am on a crash course with male pattern baldness and my belly hanging over my levis. Take a good look everyone. I’ll look like Homer Simpson before you know it.

big truth parenting

“Are we giving our children simplistic explanations they will grow out of or big truths to grow into?” --Tedd Tripp at the Biblical Parenting Conference at Mars Hill

Tripp convicted the fool out of me as he talked about how we tell our children not to hit because they wouldn’t want to be hit (which is simplistic) rather than valuing others because God made them. One explanation is man-centered and the other is God-centered. Guilty on that one. It is amazing how much of my parenting is man-centered and solely focused on behavior. Simplistic parenting is tidier, because it reduces our task to being Pavlov’s dog trainer. There is so much more that God is calling us towards.

It is easy for me to tell when I slide into simplistic, man-centered, behaviorist parenting by watching my frustration level. When those annoying behaviors grind on me and my core temperature gets white hot, that is when I know I have left God out of my parenting to focus on changing natural behavior by natural means and natural truths; frustration is the natural response. God is calling me to the supernatural. By bringing big truths into my parenting—God, the heart, mercy, grace, sin—then I am forced to rely on His Word, His truths, His means, His supernatural work. And the real parenting begins.

33 and counting

I’m sore.  Joe was right.  

Yesterday I went to the gym and ran and lifted and hit the sauna and had a big ole time.  I also met a guy named Joe who I began talking to.  He mentioned that after you turn 30, you get more sore more often.  My saying “yeah” was a knee-jerk reaction, as if my 33-year-old knees understood.  Now they do.  

Last night, I limped to bed.  My left knee has been sore for weeks.  I hurt my right ankle running.  I hurt my left shoulder lifting.  I had to stop doing calf raises because my right leg was cramping.  I also had a couple of blisters and a sore back.  Anne brought me Advil.  

Maybe Joe is a prophet.  Regardless, I’m never talking to him again.  

Christian growth is symmetrical?

I was listening to one of Tim Keller’s free sermons called “How to Change,” and he said that Christian growth is gradual, inevitable, organic and symmetrical. The first three I got, but the last one left me befuddled.

He explained that Christians gradually grow in all aspects of the Fruit of the Spirit, not just one. It is impossible to grow in patience and not self-control, for instance. Human effort can muster growth in one area, but leave huge deficits in the others. Symmetrical growth is how the Spirit works.

Notice Galatians 5 calls them “Fruit of the Spirit” because only He can do this whole-life change. That passage contrasts fruit with what are called “Works of the Flesh” because they are results of human effort. Symmetrical growth is supernatural.

Over time, we gradually change in every area until we are transformed into His image. Sort of like when we say, “Dude, have you lost weight?” It’s gradual enough to where we’re not sure.

That is how we grow. Gradual. Symmetrical. Organic. Inevitable. Thanks Tim.

false humility

Now that I am at Cornerstone Church of Knoxville, I have learned much about humility and pride and fear of man (something I’d never even heard discussed) and such. One thing that I heard casually mentioned by our pastor and has stuck with me is false humility. What can be false about humility? Here’s the difference in my mind:

• False humility is stuff like self-deprecation so people will make much of you and say, “Oh, you’re not that bad.” Humility is sharing a struggle to make much of Christ’s grace.
• False humility is embarrassment. Humility is boasting about weakness.
• False humility is never praying for yourself. Humility is praying, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” (At least that’s what Jesus thought).
• False humility is not bothering people when you need something. Humility is admitting need.
• False humility is pride in a Halloween costume. Humility is taking off the mask.

Only one problem: It’s easier written than done.

why i won't pluck out my eye, besides that it's freaky

If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body go into hell. Matthew 5:29-30

I have always heard that this passage is hyperbole, an exaggeration that only cult members and the priest in the Scarlet Letter would do. However, I am one of those Bible-thumpers who believes you must take a verse literally unless there is good reason to do otherwise. I have never heard a good reason. But last week one hit me.

Notice it says to pluck out an eye or cut off a hand, not to take a knife to your *uh-hmm* or wear a chastity belt and throw away the key. Why? If you pluck out one eye, will you stop gawking at hot people? If you cut off one hand will you be unable to use a mouse to surf the net for porn? Notice the two things we are told to remove we have two of (two hands and two eyes), not one of. Removing one can’t remove the problem. If he said to emasculate yourself, that would be a logical and painful solution to the problem, so that’s not what he said. Instead, he is using hyperbole to tell us to take action. Real and drastic action to keep us from sin.

In dismissing the idea that we should mutilate ourselves we cannot dismiss Christ’s important message to take drastic action. John Owen said, “Be killing sin or it will be killing you.” Christ is saying, to take action before you are destroyed by lust.

a new leaf

I haven't been blogging on here because I've been writing elsewhere. I find myself saying that I don't write for fun; I write for money. Well, that excuse is old. I will write about things for fun and not just funds, for joy not just a job. So, I'm turning over a new leaf, whatever that means. I will start blogging again. Honest.

Lasting Divergence

I have little time to post on here, but I will one of these days. If you want to read other posts by me, go to http://www.lastingdivergence.com/. I post on there all the time... like once a month or so.

water, wine, and parents

One of my favorite lines is from JC Ryle’s essay called “Duties of Parents.” Ryle hasn’t been around for a hundred years, but has a ton of wisdom for us today. He wrote:

I know that you cannot convert your child. I know well that they who are born again are born, not of the will of man, but of God... We have only to do as the servants were commanded at the marriage feast in Cana, to fill the water-pots with water, and we may safely leave it to the Lord to turn that water into wine. (Taken from: http://www.anglicanlibrary.org/ryle/parents/index.htm).

I love that picture. We do our part by pouring everything we’ve got into our children and then the miracle of salvation is out of our hands. That is up to the Lord. We cannot force our children into the Kingdom. We cannot get their ticket for them. Our children’s salvation (the hope of every Christian parent) is ultimately out of our hands.

I have to ask why. Why is the greatest hope of Christian parenting (the salvation of our children) something that is out of our hands? I believe it forces us to be dependent on the Father. That’s right where He wants us. He loves us to recognize our need for Him and often leads us down roads that show us that we need Him more than we need anything in the universe. Then we fall on our faces and ask Him to work. We admit our need. He gets the glory.