Since it is a football day and since I am such a big fan of football, today seems like a good day to share my favorite football memory.
While attending Baylor, I was faithful to attend all home games while in undergrad. Every year the big game was against A&M. One year it was rainy and Baylor was getting killed so I left early. I never left football games early! I even made it a point to go to the game at College Station. Law school changed my faithfulness to games, but I still tried to go to that game each year.
Baylor was on quite a losing streak against A&M. It had been almost twenty years since Baylor had won. We got close in College Station one year an lost in the last few minutes. My last year of law school the game was in Waco. Baylor's team was terrible. A&M had a decent team. One of the biggest finals of my law school career was going to occur the Monday after the game. Common sense told me to skip the game.
I have not always been one to follow common sense. I chose to go to the game. I knew I would regret it for the rest of my life if Baylor happened to win. We stood in our normal seats. I intended to leave if the game got out of hand. However at halftime it was close. At the end of the third quarter it was close. At the end of the game it was tied. So much for leaving early to study! A&M had the ball first in overtime and scored a touchdown. The pressure was on. Then Baylor scored a touchdown and needed the extra point to send it to double overtime. "They are going for 2." I said it even before the offense returned to the field. It was going to be either the worst decision of the year or the best. Given that I had sat through the UNLV disaster a few years prior where we fumbled instead of taking a knee and they returned it for the game winning touchdown, I felt sure we would endure another heartbreak. The ball was snapped, the pass was in the air, it looked like it was caught, the ref signaled it was good, and chaos broke out in the stands. The chaos continued. It was awesome! Baylor had finally beaten the Aggies and I had been brave enough not to skip it to study.
I ended up not doing as well on my final as I should have. However there are something that are worth trading. It was a good lesson to learn as I now have to remind myself life is not all about work. I still have my Gig This shirt too!
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
Countdown to 30: Day 15
Anyone who has known me for the majority of my life knows that early on I decided I wanted to be a lawyer, and after that I decided I wanted to attend Baylor Law School. I knew that Baylor produced good lawyers. Once I was in Waco, I realized that Baylor Law led the pass results on the bar exam almost every sitting. It was clear that if I wanted pretty much a guaranteed pass on the first try, I should go to Baylor. I also learned while in undergrad that Baylor was a tough school. At some point during my undergrad years, Baylor was touted as the "Marine Corp of law schools" by the law school ranking people. I knew that it was going to be tough to get into and tough to get out. Baylor was in the process of building a new law school building, and I knew that I would be one of the first classes to attend in the new building.
I do not think that I understood how hard it would be to get into Baylor until I had already been accepted. I only applied to two law school - Baylor and the University of Texas. I did not realize that both schools are very difficult to be accepted. I knew that I had the GPA to be considered for Baylor (had no clue what the UT GPA was) and I only studied hard enough for the LSAT to obtain the average score at Baylor. I did not take review courses or hundreds of practice tests. The day of the LSAT, the room was changed at the last minute at the location I had selected, I had to drive accross that school's campus, the cafeteria where the test was administered did not have air conditioning (it was June in TX - not good!), and the air conditioning repair people were banging away at the unit trying to get it working throughout the entire test. Obviously, the testing conditions were not ideal, and I probably should have selected the retake option but you had to forfeit your score before you got it back, and I did not want to take that chance. By the grace of God, I scored high enough that the score would suffice.
I was accepted to UT first, and I received a scholarship. At the time I did not realize how big a deal that was. Apparently UT is stingy with scholarships, and I was lucky to be awarded one. I had my eyes set on Baylor though and waited to receive the notice from Baylor. One day before going to one of the Baylor basketball games, there it was - the packet instead of a single envelope. Without opening it I knew I was in. I had a scholarship for half of the tuition, and I did not have to move. It was a win-win for me. I signed three years of my life away as I informed Baylor I would be attending in Fall 2002.
My years in Baylor Law School were some of the hardest of my life. The competition was rigorous, made worse by the fact that I knew I had to maintain a decent GPA just to keep my scholarship. There was not much free time or down time. I went to class, went home to study, went to church, and, if I was lucky, ventured out to watch a football game on Saturdays. I did schedule some fun weekends and short spring break trips, but even holidays with my family were cut short so I could study. Then came practice court. There are no words to describe the six months of practice court where you are stressed out, your stomach is in knots, you realize you really could fail and not become a lawyer, and there are not enough hours in a day to ever get done what is assigned. Law school made the bar exam and bar review seem easy. Seriously. Come bar exam time, I had free time because I only studied eight hours a day instead of sixteen to twenty spent doing law school. No wonder Baylor has a high pass rate!
God placed me at Baylor Law School. Looking back I did not really think my decision through. I had no idea that there were over two thousand applicants, but only 100-150 accepted per quarter. Those are not very good odds! I was able to pass the bar exam on the first try. I was able to land a job after the bar. I was able to practice and represent clients in the courtroom early on because I was used to it. Most importantly, I was able to do my first jury trial solo on short notice (less than 24 hours) with a successful result for the client.
I do not think that I understood how hard it would be to get into Baylor until I had already been accepted. I only applied to two law school - Baylor and the University of Texas. I did not realize that both schools are very difficult to be accepted. I knew that I had the GPA to be considered for Baylor (had no clue what the UT GPA was) and I only studied hard enough for the LSAT to obtain the average score at Baylor. I did not take review courses or hundreds of practice tests. The day of the LSAT, the room was changed at the last minute at the location I had selected, I had to drive accross that school's campus, the cafeteria where the test was administered did not have air conditioning (it was June in TX - not good!), and the air conditioning repair people were banging away at the unit trying to get it working throughout the entire test. Obviously, the testing conditions were not ideal, and I probably should have selected the retake option but you had to forfeit your score before you got it back, and I did not want to take that chance. By the grace of God, I scored high enough that the score would suffice.
I was accepted to UT first, and I received a scholarship. At the time I did not realize how big a deal that was. Apparently UT is stingy with scholarships, and I was lucky to be awarded one. I had my eyes set on Baylor though and waited to receive the notice from Baylor. One day before going to one of the Baylor basketball games, there it was - the packet instead of a single envelope. Without opening it I knew I was in. I had a scholarship for half of the tuition, and I did not have to move. It was a win-win for me. I signed three years of my life away as I informed Baylor I would be attending in Fall 2002.
My years in Baylor Law School were some of the hardest of my life. The competition was rigorous, made worse by the fact that I knew I had to maintain a decent GPA just to keep my scholarship. There was not much free time or down time. I went to class, went home to study, went to church, and, if I was lucky, ventured out to watch a football game on Saturdays. I did schedule some fun weekends and short spring break trips, but even holidays with my family were cut short so I could study. Then came practice court. There are no words to describe the six months of practice court where you are stressed out, your stomach is in knots, you realize you really could fail and not become a lawyer, and there are not enough hours in a day to ever get done what is assigned. Law school made the bar exam and bar review seem easy. Seriously. Come bar exam time, I had free time because I only studied eight hours a day instead of sixteen to twenty spent doing law school. No wonder Baylor has a high pass rate!
God placed me at Baylor Law School. Looking back I did not really think my decision through. I had no idea that there were over two thousand applicants, but only 100-150 accepted per quarter. Those are not very good odds! I was able to pass the bar exam on the first try. I was able to land a job after the bar. I was able to practice and represent clients in the courtroom early on because I was used to it. Most importantly, I was able to do my first jury trial solo on short notice (less than 24 hours) with a successful result for the client.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Countdown to 30: Day 16
I have been listening to sermons my entire life (even in utero), but there is one sermon that sticks out as the most important sermon that I ever listened to. Today I want to share it as part of my countdown series.
The sermon was suggested by our youth minister at the time. It was back when I had bought or received as a gift my first mp3 player, but prior to the iPod days. I listened to the sermon for the first time in February 2006. I had been dealing with Hurricane Katrina for quite a while by then. Someone I knew had been murdered, and it was the first person I knew that was murdered that I can remember. It was a difficult time, but a great time for me sorting out what I believed about God and His plan. These were events that were difficulty brought on by something other than my own sin, so I needed to figure out how to deal with everything in a biblically correct way.
The name of the sermon is A Beliver's Response to Difficulty and it was preached by Dr. Rick Holland. I know nothing else about the person who gave this sermon. The focus scripture is Lamentations. Some things that stick out about the sermon even more than three years later are the truths about how God is never surprised by natural disasters or tragedies in our lives because He is sovereign. The believer's appropriate response is grief and rejoicing; sorrow and praising God. The sermon ends with a letter that a man who was to be executed for his faith wrote to his wife reminding her that his death was God's will and God's plan and that believers should be full of grace and courage in the midst of difficulty. I highly recommend listening to this sermon. Different sermons mean different things to different people depending on what they are going through at that time of their life. I am glad that I listened to this one when I needed to hear it most.
Link to download the sermon
If the link does not work, you can go here, chose the year 2006 and the category Lamentations.
The sermon was suggested by our youth minister at the time. It was back when I had bought or received as a gift my first mp3 player, but prior to the iPod days. I listened to the sermon for the first time in February 2006. I had been dealing with Hurricane Katrina for quite a while by then. Someone I knew had been murdered, and it was the first person I knew that was murdered that I can remember. It was a difficult time, but a great time for me sorting out what I believed about God and His plan. These were events that were difficulty brought on by something other than my own sin, so I needed to figure out how to deal with everything in a biblically correct way.
The name of the sermon is A Beliver's Response to Difficulty and it was preached by Dr. Rick Holland. I know nothing else about the person who gave this sermon. The focus scripture is Lamentations. Some things that stick out about the sermon even more than three years later are the truths about how God is never surprised by natural disasters or tragedies in our lives because He is sovereign. The believer's appropriate response is grief and rejoicing; sorrow and praising God. The sermon ends with a letter that a man who was to be executed for his faith wrote to his wife reminding her that his death was God's will and God's plan and that believers should be full of grace and courage in the midst of difficulty. I highly recommend listening to this sermon. Different sermons mean different things to different people depending on what they are going through at that time of their life. I am glad that I listened to this one when I needed to hear it most.
Link to download the sermon
If the link does not work, you can go here, chose the year 2006 and the category Lamentations.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Countdown to 30: Day 17
One of my favorite memories as a kid was the night that the church fellowship hall burned down. I know that it seems odd to refer to that night as a favorite memory. However, for a five or six year old child, it was quite an exciting event.
We were sitting at our house when Ms. Brenda drove up in a panic. "The church is on fire! The church is on fire!" For a kid, it is exciting to watch anything burn. We jumped in the car and drove over to Ms. Brenda's house to watch the church burn because she lived right behind the church. In fact we had the perfect view of the fire from her front window and front porch because she lived right behind the fellowship hall.
People from the church started arriving to watch the scene. There was smoke everywhere. Even more fun for a kid was all of the fire trucks and firemen that responded. There were sirens and trucks and lights and ladders and hoses and water everywhere while the building was burning. Dad went over to help move the piano out of the sanctuary with the other men of the church. I still to this day do not know why they wouldn't just collect the insurance money and replace it with a better piano, but I guess it is hard to think rationally when the church is on fire.
At one point they were worried that the fire would spread to the nursery area and the sanctuary. The roof was being soaked with water to prevent the spread. We moved down to the youth minister's house to watch the rest of the commotion at some point. They have a son that was around the same age as me and my brother, so the three of us and any other kids that came up were playing out in their backyard. It was still close enough to see what all was going on, but far enough away that the smoke smell was not overwhelming. I remember us catching "fireflies" that night, but we did not understand why the fireflies didn't light up again. I suspect that we were really catching ashes!
My parents still have a Bible that survived the fire. Everything around the Bible was burned up and melted. However, the Bible just had some soot on it from the smoke damage. The brand of Bible - Fireside! Awesome!
We were sitting at our house when Ms. Brenda drove up in a panic. "The church is on fire! The church is on fire!" For a kid, it is exciting to watch anything burn. We jumped in the car and drove over to Ms. Brenda's house to watch the church burn because she lived right behind the church. In fact we had the perfect view of the fire from her front window and front porch because she lived right behind the fellowship hall.
People from the church started arriving to watch the scene. There was smoke everywhere. Even more fun for a kid was all of the fire trucks and firemen that responded. There were sirens and trucks and lights and ladders and hoses and water everywhere while the building was burning. Dad went over to help move the piano out of the sanctuary with the other men of the church. I still to this day do not know why they wouldn't just collect the insurance money and replace it with a better piano, but I guess it is hard to think rationally when the church is on fire.
At one point they were worried that the fire would spread to the nursery area and the sanctuary. The roof was being soaked with water to prevent the spread. We moved down to the youth minister's house to watch the rest of the commotion at some point. They have a son that was around the same age as me and my brother, so the three of us and any other kids that came up were playing out in their backyard. It was still close enough to see what all was going on, but far enough away that the smoke smell was not overwhelming. I remember us catching "fireflies" that night, but we did not understand why the fireflies didn't light up again. I suspect that we were really catching ashes!
My parents still have a Bible that survived the fire. Everything around the Bible was burned up and melted. However, the Bible just had some soot on it from the smoke damage. The brand of Bible - Fireside! Awesome!
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Countdown to 30: Day 18
Today I thought I would share a memory that has sustained me through some difficult times. When you work with children in the inner city, it is pretty much inevitable that one of the children you are working with will be shot and killed. I am now up to three kids that have been killed by violence and two or three(that I know of - I am sure there are more that have been grazed) that have been shot but survived. I also knew one of the parents of the children that was shot and killed in a shot meant for the son. It is a rough world for these kids.
One of my favorite memories of New Orleans is the Chasing Rabbits memory. Since I have already blogged about it in full, I thought today I would just link to my highlight for today. Days such as the day that we chased rabbits allow me to remember that these teenagers and adults were once children who acted like children and loved like children and played like children. Remembering those days reminds me to love them now and pray for them. Since this memory includes two boys who have been shot and killed, it is one of the sweetest memories of them for me. Enjoy my adventure chasing rabbits in inner city New Orleans!
One of my favorite memories of New Orleans is the Chasing Rabbits memory. Since I have already blogged about it in full, I thought today I would just link to my highlight for today. Days such as the day that we chased rabbits allow me to remember that these teenagers and adults were once children who acted like children and loved like children and played like children. Remembering those days reminds me to love them now and pray for them. Since this memory includes two boys who have been shot and killed, it is one of the sweetest memories of them for me. Enjoy my adventure chasing rabbits in inner city New Orleans!
Monday, October 26, 2009
Countdown to 30: Day 19
I will never forget the first time I saw someone I know arrested. It was a strange day. I was in New Orleans for the summer in 2004. New Orleans was experiencing a spike in violent crime that summer. The decision was made to have state police officers join city police officers on patrol.
It was a Wednesday night, and, as usual, I was hanging out with the kids outside the Center. There was a huge crowd outside that night. I was enjoying the time with the kids. Guy and Marquis had been around but they left when they saw a police car go by. I asked why, and one of the kids informed me that the police were looking for two boys who stole a bike, and it was Guy and Marquis that stole the bike. Soon Kenny who is Marquis’ cousin and Geoffrey who is Guy’s brother came up on a bike and started working on the bike. Everything was normal for a Wednesday night and nothing seemed to be out of place.
I saw a cop car driving the wrong way up the one way street in front of the Center. I found it odd, and even remember making a statement about how odd it was. When I said it, some of the older boys started to scatter. Soon we were surrounded by four cop cars with two to three officers each and a police helicopter circling overhead. It was unreal. The cops surround Kenny and Geoffrey and started questioning them about the bike. I was in law school at the time (and even wearing my Baylor Law shirt), so Geoffrey kept looking over at me and I would shake my head yes if it was a question he should answer or no if it was one he should not answer. Obviously this frustrated the cops.
At some point I remembered that Kenny’s grandmother was inside the Center attending Bible study, and I ran inside the Center. As I heard the cops saying something to me as I ran in, I realized that maybe it was not the best decision for me to run inside like that. However, I was able to get Kenny’s grandmother outside to start handling the situation. I also remember everyone talking about calling Geoffrey’s mom so that she could come down and deal with the situation for Geoffrey.
While all of this was going on, the officers started walking around the crowd of people. One of the older guys was so high that he had the attachment for a blunt still in his mouth. The police arrested him for having drug paraphernalia. It was really odd to see someone I knew being arrested. The first feeling was a feeling of distrust for the officers. I was surprised by that feeling, but it probably came, in part, because of the apparent overreaction by the cops. It turns out that the cops were looking for the boys who had stolen a bike not far from the Center. Problem is that they had the wrong boys. Another problem is that four police cars and a helicopter seemed very excessive for bike thieves. Even worse, the whole event made the news that night.
As a result of being present at the arrest and due to the entire event, I came to distrust officers. I now understand why there is such a distrust of law enforcement in the inner city. There was something that made me feel less safe that night because of the presence of the officers. I am sure that the police department would say that the size of the crowd caused them to be concerned for their own safety, but they were looking for two boys who stole a bike. Even now, I have to remind myself that law enforcement is there for the protection of the public. I have to remind myself to trust law enforcement. It is a strange change that came over me that day, and it was a change I was not expecting or prepared for. I can understand how my friends in New Orleans do not trust the police department, even if most officers are good cops. The officers had no idea how much harm their decisions would make when they acted that night. It is possible that even without the overreaction I would have had the same distrust just because someone I knew was arrested (even though I knew he was guilty of the offense). What I do know is that I still struggle with trusting any law enforcement, and I constantly have to remind myself that police officers are there for the public’s safety.
It was a Wednesday night, and, as usual, I was hanging out with the kids outside the Center. There was a huge crowd outside that night. I was enjoying the time with the kids. Guy and Marquis had been around but they left when they saw a police car go by. I asked why, and one of the kids informed me that the police were looking for two boys who stole a bike, and it was Guy and Marquis that stole the bike. Soon Kenny who is Marquis’ cousin and Geoffrey who is Guy’s brother came up on a bike and started working on the bike. Everything was normal for a Wednesday night and nothing seemed to be out of place.
I saw a cop car driving the wrong way up the one way street in front of the Center. I found it odd, and even remember making a statement about how odd it was. When I said it, some of the older boys started to scatter. Soon we were surrounded by four cop cars with two to three officers each and a police helicopter circling overhead. It was unreal. The cops surround Kenny and Geoffrey and started questioning them about the bike. I was in law school at the time (and even wearing my Baylor Law shirt), so Geoffrey kept looking over at me and I would shake my head yes if it was a question he should answer or no if it was one he should not answer. Obviously this frustrated the cops.
At some point I remembered that Kenny’s grandmother was inside the Center attending Bible study, and I ran inside the Center. As I heard the cops saying something to me as I ran in, I realized that maybe it was not the best decision for me to run inside like that. However, I was able to get Kenny’s grandmother outside to start handling the situation. I also remember everyone talking about calling Geoffrey’s mom so that she could come down and deal with the situation for Geoffrey.
While all of this was going on, the officers started walking around the crowd of people. One of the older guys was so high that he had the attachment for a blunt still in his mouth. The police arrested him for having drug paraphernalia. It was really odd to see someone I knew being arrested. The first feeling was a feeling of distrust for the officers. I was surprised by that feeling, but it probably came, in part, because of the apparent overreaction by the cops. It turns out that the cops were looking for the boys who had stolen a bike not far from the Center. Problem is that they had the wrong boys. Another problem is that four police cars and a helicopter seemed very excessive for bike thieves. Even worse, the whole event made the news that night.
As a result of being present at the arrest and due to the entire event, I came to distrust officers. I now understand why there is such a distrust of law enforcement in the inner city. There was something that made me feel less safe that night because of the presence of the officers. I am sure that the police department would say that the size of the crowd caused them to be concerned for their own safety, but they were looking for two boys who stole a bike. Even now, I have to remind myself that law enforcement is there for the protection of the public. I have to remind myself to trust law enforcement. It is a strange change that came over me that day, and it was a change I was not expecting or prepared for. I can understand how my friends in New Orleans do not trust the police department, even if most officers are good cops. The officers had no idea how much harm their decisions would make when they acted that night. It is possible that even without the overreaction I would have had the same distrust just because someone I knew was arrested (even though I knew he was guilty of the offense). What I do know is that I still struggle with trusting any law enforcement, and I constantly have to remind myself that police officers are there for the public’s safety.
Countdown to 30: Day 20
Since I talked about 9/11 yesterday, I figured I should go ahead and talk about another national tragedy that made an imprint. I believe that I was in kindergarten when the Challenger blew up. For me as a little kid, it seemed like a normal day until our teacher was upset and we were watching TV reports about the space shuttle blowing up. I remember that we had talked about the Challenger at school before the liftoff because there was a teacher that was on board and was to be the first teacher in space. At that young of an age, you really just know that something bad has happened, but you do not yet know how to feel emotion about it. It was weird to watch footage at that age because, quite frankly, a blowing up shuttle looks pretty cool until you grow up and realize that there were people in it that died at that time. I wonder if that is how those who were kids when 9/11 occurred feel now.
In middle school or high school, I toured the local manufacturing plant where they made things that were used on airplanes and I do not remember what else. At the end of the tour, the students were all given posters that had the pictures of those who died in the Challenger tragedy on it with a picture of the shuttle itself. That poster hung on my wall of my bedroom until my parents moved out of that house while I was in college. I probably threw that poster away in the move, but I think I held onto it for so long because I was always fascinated by the tragedy. It was the first national tragedy that I remember as a child. The Branch Davidian compound burned when I was in middle school. The Oklahoma City bombing happened while I was in high school. 9/11 happened while I was in college. The shuttle burned up on reentry while I was in law school. However, I think that the Challenger tragedy was what taught me in a way how to respond to national tragedies even if it had to be learned over a period of time.
In middle school or high school, I toured the local manufacturing plant where they made things that were used on airplanes and I do not remember what else. At the end of the tour, the students were all given posters that had the pictures of those who died in the Challenger tragedy on it with a picture of the shuttle itself. That poster hung on my wall of my bedroom until my parents moved out of that house while I was in college. I probably threw that poster away in the move, but I think I held onto it for so long because I was always fascinated by the tragedy. It was the first national tragedy that I remember as a child. The Branch Davidian compound burned when I was in middle school. The Oklahoma City bombing happened while I was in high school. 9/11 happened while I was in college. The shuttle burned up on reentry while I was in law school. However, I think that the Challenger tragedy was what taught me in a way how to respond to national tragedies even if it had to be learned over a period of time.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Countdown to 30: Day 21
September 11, 2001 is a day that I will never be able to forget. It was the strangest day of my life, as I am sure it was for most people who were alive and old enough to remember the day. It started out just like any other with me hitting the snooze button a few times. I got out of bed early enough to turn on the TV for a few minutes before taking a shower. I turned the TV on to find a strange sight of one of the twin towers with smoke billowing out of the middle and a plane flying into the second tower. At first I wondered what new movie was being promoted on NBC’s Today Show. It was that surreal.
I do not remember if I had figured out it was really happening before getting in the shower, or if reality set in some time during my shower. What I do remember is getting out of the shower in time to see the next breaking story of a plane hitting the Pentagon. There was no denying at that point that some sort of attack was happening. I went to class only to find out my first class of the day was cancelled. I went to some friends’ apartment where we watched the towers fall and the crash site of the plane in Pennsylvania. I remember thinking as the first tower fell that there was no telling how many hundreds of people lost their lives before our eyes. Then there was an eerie feeling of knowing that the second tower was still standing, but probably not for long. I started out for my next class at some point, but found out on the way that it was cancelled and returned to the TV coverage. We all talked to family quite a bit that day.
The coverage was on almost every channel. It did not matter if it was a cable, network, syndicated, or channels in other languages, the images were shown over and over and over and over. The stories about those who had died started to be told. The coverage was overwhelming at times. I remember that at one point we had to search for something that was not about the tragedy, but after just a few minutes, we were curious again. On American TV, they were talking about people that had jumped from the buildings because of the heat, but they were not showing those people jumping. On one of our channel flipping trips, we stopped on Telemundo or some other Spanish speaking station only to see people jumping and falling to their death. It was horrible. Those images made me decide to spend the night with my friends and caused us to need to watch A Bug’s Life just to be able to sleep some that night. The same night, my brand new car got towed and we had to go get it the next day.
Looking back on 9/11 seems surreal even now. Baylor had military jets flying over it all the time because Baylor had students that were seen as potential targets because of their parents’ positions in the government. A somber mood in general was seen for several weeks. Patriotism was cool again, although that did not last long. Churches were full again, but that also did not last long. I think that the media has overplayed the event and that people were tired of it after a while. In some ways that caused people to become a bit desensitized to the event. Now there are movies and documentaries and books and news specials galore that talk about the event. It was a life changing day in many ways because it was then that I really learned that I cannot trust anyone with my security other than God. Governments and cities and nations are vulnerable to attack. If my security is based on governments or militaries or airport securities, I have no hope. I have to trust in God and Him alone for my security, realizing that no one can take the security of my salvation away from me even if they take my life.
I do not remember if I had figured out it was really happening before getting in the shower, or if reality set in some time during my shower. What I do remember is getting out of the shower in time to see the next breaking story of a plane hitting the Pentagon. There was no denying at that point that some sort of attack was happening. I went to class only to find out my first class of the day was cancelled. I went to some friends’ apartment where we watched the towers fall and the crash site of the plane in Pennsylvania. I remember thinking as the first tower fell that there was no telling how many hundreds of people lost their lives before our eyes. Then there was an eerie feeling of knowing that the second tower was still standing, but probably not for long. I started out for my next class at some point, but found out on the way that it was cancelled and returned to the TV coverage. We all talked to family quite a bit that day.
The coverage was on almost every channel. It did not matter if it was a cable, network, syndicated, or channels in other languages, the images were shown over and over and over and over. The stories about those who had died started to be told. The coverage was overwhelming at times. I remember that at one point we had to search for something that was not about the tragedy, but after just a few minutes, we were curious again. On American TV, they were talking about people that had jumped from the buildings because of the heat, but they were not showing those people jumping. On one of our channel flipping trips, we stopped on Telemundo or some other Spanish speaking station only to see people jumping and falling to their death. It was horrible. Those images made me decide to spend the night with my friends and caused us to need to watch A Bug’s Life just to be able to sleep some that night. The same night, my brand new car got towed and we had to go get it the next day.
Looking back on 9/11 seems surreal even now. Baylor had military jets flying over it all the time because Baylor had students that were seen as potential targets because of their parents’ positions in the government. A somber mood in general was seen for several weeks. Patriotism was cool again, although that did not last long. Churches were full again, but that also did not last long. I think that the media has overplayed the event and that people were tired of it after a while. In some ways that caused people to become a bit desensitized to the event. Now there are movies and documentaries and books and news specials galore that talk about the event. It was a life changing day in many ways because it was then that I really learned that I cannot trust anyone with my security other than God. Governments and cities and nations are vulnerable to attack. If my security is based on governments or militaries or airport securities, I have no hope. I have to trust in God and Him alone for my security, realizing that no one can take the security of my salvation away from me even if they take my life.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Countdown to 30: Day 22
My grandfather died during my junior year of high school. Although I had known people who had died in the past, it was really the first time I dealt with grief in the context of the death of a person I was close to. I was old enough to understand the reality of death, and the pain that comes from the knowledge of knowing that I would not see him again in this life.
My grandfather was diagnosed with cancer around the same time of the Oklahoma City bombing. I do not remember if it was that day or the day before or if the news was broken to me and my brother only on that day. It was a pretty odd time though with the family sadness and the national tragedy overlapping. The next few months were filled with treatment and the realization that the cancer was terminal. Eventually he got to the point where he had to be hospitalized, and then basically slipped further and further away as he was unable to communicate. My family traumatized me by forcing me to go in to see him when he was so bad the day or two before he died. I swear that I have had a fear of hospitals since that time (parents – don’t force your children to do things like that please!). It takes a pretty big event for me to go to a hospital to visit someone, and I usually will not go to a maternity ward even to visit a new mother and baby. I will not go to a hospital alone, and I am a BIG baby when it comes to actually walking into a hospital. Just ask my boy in New Orleans who had to come downstairs and outside to coax me in to see his new baby in the freezing cold.
It is odd to lose a family member to cancer. As you watch the person waste away in pain, you actually reach a point where you are praying for them to die so that they do not have to suffer anymore. It was an incomprehensible feeling for me to have at the time, but it is the point that you come to. Since that time, I realize it is OK for us to pray for God to allow someone to be released from pain at the same time that you are praying for God to heal them. It is a good lesson in learning to pray that God’s will be done in a situation.
I would not say that each death of someone close to me since my grandfather’s death has been easier, but I have dealt with each death better as I have learned more and more about God and the comfort He provides in that situation. I have also learned to see God’s grace in death. God did not allow my grandfather to suffer long. His cancer was quick spreading. However, we had a chance to prepare for his death and say goodbye. My grandfather lived a good life. God allowed me to have a relationship with my grandfather who was a godly man and good example for me. God also allowed my grandfather to see how his faithfulness to God contributed to the spread of the gospel down to my generation. All these things are blessings that God has enabled me to see through the life and death of my grandfather, helping to shape my theology of death.
My grandfather was diagnosed with cancer around the same time of the Oklahoma City bombing. I do not remember if it was that day or the day before or if the news was broken to me and my brother only on that day. It was a pretty odd time though with the family sadness and the national tragedy overlapping. The next few months were filled with treatment and the realization that the cancer was terminal. Eventually he got to the point where he had to be hospitalized, and then basically slipped further and further away as he was unable to communicate. My family traumatized me by forcing me to go in to see him when he was so bad the day or two before he died. I swear that I have had a fear of hospitals since that time (parents – don’t force your children to do things like that please!). It takes a pretty big event for me to go to a hospital to visit someone, and I usually will not go to a maternity ward even to visit a new mother and baby. I will not go to a hospital alone, and I am a BIG baby when it comes to actually walking into a hospital. Just ask my boy in New Orleans who had to come downstairs and outside to coax me in to see his new baby in the freezing cold.
It is odd to lose a family member to cancer. As you watch the person waste away in pain, you actually reach a point where you are praying for them to die so that they do not have to suffer anymore. It was an incomprehensible feeling for me to have at the time, but it is the point that you come to. Since that time, I realize it is OK for us to pray for God to allow someone to be released from pain at the same time that you are praying for God to heal them. It is a good lesson in learning to pray that God’s will be done in a situation.
I would not say that each death of someone close to me since my grandfather’s death has been easier, but I have dealt with each death better as I have learned more and more about God and the comfort He provides in that situation. I have also learned to see God’s grace in death. God did not allow my grandfather to suffer long. His cancer was quick spreading. However, we had a chance to prepare for his death and say goodbye. My grandfather lived a good life. God allowed me to have a relationship with my grandfather who was a godly man and good example for me. God also allowed my grandfather to see how his faithfulness to God contributed to the spread of the gospel down to my generation. All these things are blessings that God has enabled me to see through the life and death of my grandfather, helping to shape my theology of death.
Countdown to 30: Day 23
(Yesterday life happened and this did not get posted, although it was already written. That just means two posts today!)
For the spring break mission trip in 2000, our college and high school groups went to Flagstaff, Arizona. I learned so much about God on that trip that it probably was the turning point in making the faith of my parents my own. Too often in college children turn away from the teachings of their parents, but I had the opportunity to build upon the foundation that my parents had built.
Our mission trip to Flagstaff was to an Indian reservation where we were to have a vacation Bible school type ministry to the children and attend church on the reservation. When we arrived, it was around 70 degrees and nice enough that a group of us were able to climb a mountain. It was the first mountain I climbed (and I believe the last to this point), and the view from the top made the struggle of the climb worth it. The beauty of creation pointed toward the Creator. It was awesome. The next morning we woke up to a foot of snow on the ground. At that point I learned that a place has crazier weather than Texas!
The church was small and obviously filled with poverty. For example, to go to the bathroom, you had to use an outhouse ... without a door. Did I mention that there was a foot of snow in Flagstaff? Although there was not a foot of snow at that point on the reservation where the church was located, it was cold enough to have a foot of snow on the ground. The outhouse hole acts like a wind tunnel blowing right on your bare bottom. The scenery was also such that you really, genuinely expected Doc Holliday to come riding up on a horse over the hill and declare, “I’m your Huckleberry” while you did your business.
Although the church did not have much, that church was full of love and generosity. The people showed us hospitality providing food for us and serving lovingly even though you knew it was a sacrifice. The faith of the people in the midst of their adversity was a lesson for me. My church at the time met in a grand building, and even showed hospitality to college students, but we did not have the love that could be felt in this small, faithful congregation. My church’s attempts at worship fell short of what this congregation did with a small keyboard, maybe a guitar, and off-key singing that truly came out of a heart of worship. It was unlike anything that I remembered experiencing up to that point.
Since we were in Flagstaff, we were close enough to plan a trip to see the Grand Canyon. First, we went on the reservation to see where the actual start of the Grand Canyon is. Surprisingly, it starts as a small canyon that you can easily climb down into and did not go very deep. It was unamazing except for the fact that you knew that the Grand Canyon was present many miles away. We also, during the midst of a slight blizzard, went to see Sedona Canyon. The rock formations were amazing, and I remember thinking, “I do not see how the Grand Canyon can top this!” Boy, I could not have been more wrong!
I was not expecting much driving up to the Grand Canyon. Sure I had seen pictures that were amazing. However, I had been told that it was not as awesome as everyone acts like it is by someone else who had been there. I thought that the hour that we were planning on spending there would be too much. I was excited, but not overly excited.
I will never forget the first time I walked up to the sight of the Grand Canyon. My first surprise was that the side we were on was covered in snow. I always thought of the Grand Canyon as a desert. The other side looks like a desert. Much to my surprise, though, there is a forest on the tourist side. As we walked through the tourist trail up to the first observation point, I began to think that I might be in for a bigger surprise once I reached the view. Seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time, I was speechless for several minutes. The first statement out of my mouth was, “There is a God.” I knew that, but standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon, you cannot deny the existence of God. God is obvious. There are colors that cannot be described or recreated by man. There is beauty that points to a Creator. Pictures do not do justice to the sight that you see. There is no way to make the Grand Canyon overrated or overcommercialized. It is a creation that God uses to point to Himself and to give delight to mankind. It was amazing.
Later in the trip as I enjoyed more of God’s creation, I read Psalm 139. It was probably not the first time that I read the Psalm, but it was like reading it for the first time. God had planned for me to go on that trip and to see His creation. God had created me just as He has created all of the other beautiful things that I had seen on that trip. God was preparing me to serve Him and had a plan for me. Psalm 139 became one of my favorite passages at that point, and the Grand Canyon is a testimony of the reality of God for me. Although I do not think that I have ever doubted the existence of God, or if I have, it was not for long, I do know that since viewing the Grand Canyon, I cannot deny the existence of God. Everyone needs a Grand Canyon moment.
For the spring break mission trip in 2000, our college and high school groups went to Flagstaff, Arizona. I learned so much about God on that trip that it probably was the turning point in making the faith of my parents my own. Too often in college children turn away from the teachings of their parents, but I had the opportunity to build upon the foundation that my parents had built.
Our mission trip to Flagstaff was to an Indian reservation where we were to have a vacation Bible school type ministry to the children and attend church on the reservation. When we arrived, it was around 70 degrees and nice enough that a group of us were able to climb a mountain. It was the first mountain I climbed (and I believe the last to this point), and the view from the top made the struggle of the climb worth it. The beauty of creation pointed toward the Creator. It was awesome. The next morning we woke up to a foot of snow on the ground. At that point I learned that a place has crazier weather than Texas!
The church was small and obviously filled with poverty. For example, to go to the bathroom, you had to use an outhouse ... without a door. Did I mention that there was a foot of snow in Flagstaff? Although there was not a foot of snow at that point on the reservation where the church was located, it was cold enough to have a foot of snow on the ground. The outhouse hole acts like a wind tunnel blowing right on your bare bottom. The scenery was also such that you really, genuinely expected Doc Holliday to come riding up on a horse over the hill and declare, “I’m your Huckleberry” while you did your business.
Although the church did not have much, that church was full of love and generosity. The people showed us hospitality providing food for us and serving lovingly even though you knew it was a sacrifice. The faith of the people in the midst of their adversity was a lesson for me. My church at the time met in a grand building, and even showed hospitality to college students, but we did not have the love that could be felt in this small, faithful congregation. My church’s attempts at worship fell short of what this congregation did with a small keyboard, maybe a guitar, and off-key singing that truly came out of a heart of worship. It was unlike anything that I remembered experiencing up to that point.
Since we were in Flagstaff, we were close enough to plan a trip to see the Grand Canyon. First, we went on the reservation to see where the actual start of the Grand Canyon is. Surprisingly, it starts as a small canyon that you can easily climb down into and did not go very deep. It was unamazing except for the fact that you knew that the Grand Canyon was present many miles away. We also, during the midst of a slight blizzard, went to see Sedona Canyon. The rock formations were amazing, and I remember thinking, “I do not see how the Grand Canyon can top this!” Boy, I could not have been more wrong!
I was not expecting much driving up to the Grand Canyon. Sure I had seen pictures that were amazing. However, I had been told that it was not as awesome as everyone acts like it is by someone else who had been there. I thought that the hour that we were planning on spending there would be too much. I was excited, but not overly excited.
I will never forget the first time I walked up to the sight of the Grand Canyon. My first surprise was that the side we were on was covered in snow. I always thought of the Grand Canyon as a desert. The other side looks like a desert. Much to my surprise, though, there is a forest on the tourist side. As we walked through the tourist trail up to the first observation point, I began to think that I might be in for a bigger surprise once I reached the view. Seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time, I was speechless for several minutes. The first statement out of my mouth was, “There is a God.” I knew that, but standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon, you cannot deny the existence of God. God is obvious. There are colors that cannot be described or recreated by man. There is beauty that points to a Creator. Pictures do not do justice to the sight that you see. There is no way to make the Grand Canyon overrated or overcommercialized. It is a creation that God uses to point to Himself and to give delight to mankind. It was amazing.
Later in the trip as I enjoyed more of God’s creation, I read Psalm 139. It was probably not the first time that I read the Psalm, but it was like reading it for the first time. God had planned for me to go on that trip and to see His creation. God had created me just as He has created all of the other beautiful things that I had seen on that trip. God was preparing me to serve Him and had a plan for me. Psalm 139 became one of my favorite passages at that point, and the Grand Canyon is a testimony of the reality of God for me. Although I do not think that I have ever doubted the existence of God, or if I have, it was not for long, I do know that since viewing the Grand Canyon, I cannot deny the existence of God. Everyone needs a Grand Canyon moment.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Very Rare Political Sidenote
I imagine, due to recent actions or lack of action on the part of the President in the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, that there was a conversation at the White House similar to the one below sometime soon after the inauguration:
President: Let's start fulfilling my campaign promises and bring the troops home.
Pentagon Official: Are you sure you want to do that Mr. President? Here are the things we could not tell you until you were Commander in Chief.
[Pentagon Official shares top-secret, extremely confidential, "if I tell you, I would have to kill you" information]
President: Oh. Hmmm. Now I am in a bad spot. I made all of those campaign promises and now I have to figure out how to keep them. What will I do?
Even if this is not what occurred, it is a logical explanation for the recent indications that the President may have to increase troop presence instead of decreasing it. Let's hope that the President will care more about our national security and the matters that we do not need to know, but need to trust the Commander in Chief to handle, than his inability to fulfill campaign promises (or his recent Nobel Peace Prize win).
President: Let's start fulfilling my campaign promises and bring the troops home.
Pentagon Official: Are you sure you want to do that Mr. President? Here are the things we could not tell you until you were Commander in Chief.
[Pentagon Official shares top-secret, extremely confidential, "if I tell you, I would have to kill you" information]
President: Oh. Hmmm. Now I am in a bad spot. I made all of those campaign promises and now I have to figure out how to keep them. What will I do?
Even if this is not what occurred, it is a logical explanation for the recent indications that the President may have to increase troop presence instead of decreasing it. Let's hope that the President will care more about our national security and the matters that we do not need to know, but need to trust the Commander in Chief to handle, than his inability to fulfill campaign promises (or his recent Nobel Peace Prize win).
Countdown to 30: Day 24
I read Cry, the Beloved Country for the first time my junior year of college. It was the worst two weeks of my life up to that point since I had a major test in each of my classes, a chapter of my honors thesis due, a term paper due, and I was supposed to read this book that I had no desire to read for my honors discussion group. Since there are only a limited number of hours in a week, Cry, the Beloved Country did not get read in time for the discussion group and it was apparent that I was the only student in the room that had not completed the assignment. I knew that I would have to hurry up and read the book and get something turned in as soon as possible in order to keep from having to make up the discussion group or get an incomplete. I was determined not to like the book.
I began reading after the class, maybe even that night, and once I started the book, something happened. The story changed me. It was a simple story, written in a simple way, that convicted me of areas of my life that needed to be changed. Since it was a story about South Africa, I was deceived into thinking it would not have implications for me in America until I was too far into the book to protect myself from the message. It was a story about racism without being about racism. Racism was institutionalized without placing blame on a particular aspect of government. It was a story that personalized a criminal without making him a hero or, in some ways, a victim other than of his own choices. The true victim accomplishes almost as much in death as he did in life, and his death is an irony given his convictions. It is a book that makes you uncomfortable as you read it. It is about forgiveness and justice, mercy and punishment.
I read the book after going to New Orleans the second time. I went to a high school that was not diverse at all. I attended Baylor where diversity was present, but not really true. I had preconceived ideas about criminals. I did not believe in institutional racism. I believed in justice, but really did not know my responsibility to forgive. Cry, the Beloved Country changed the way I thought about crime, criminals, inner city problems, and my responses to all of the above. Cry, the Beloved Country taught me that personal relationships mean more than institutional attempts to fix the problems. It is not the government’s responsibility to fix the inner cities, although it is often necessary to depend on the government. It is not the government’s responsibility to feed the poor or heal the sick because it often leads to more problems. Instead it is the responsibility of the church, and individuals investing in lives, to reconcile relationships in the inner cities. God used this book to teach me important lessons that have remained with me throughout my experiences since that time. I have had to deal with forgiving people who have wronged those I loved, even murder. I have also seen those I love commit crimes. Fortunately I have been able to see the human behind the acts and even how society and the church have failed the human, but how God can still redeem the human and the situation for His glory. Next to the Bible, this book has probably done more to change my life and my perspective than anything else I have read.
I began reading after the class, maybe even that night, and once I started the book, something happened. The story changed me. It was a simple story, written in a simple way, that convicted me of areas of my life that needed to be changed. Since it was a story about South Africa, I was deceived into thinking it would not have implications for me in America until I was too far into the book to protect myself from the message. It was a story about racism without being about racism. Racism was institutionalized without placing blame on a particular aspect of government. It was a story that personalized a criminal without making him a hero or, in some ways, a victim other than of his own choices. The true victim accomplishes almost as much in death as he did in life, and his death is an irony given his convictions. It is a book that makes you uncomfortable as you read it. It is about forgiveness and justice, mercy and punishment.
I read the book after going to New Orleans the second time. I went to a high school that was not diverse at all. I attended Baylor where diversity was present, but not really true. I had preconceived ideas about criminals. I did not believe in institutional racism. I believed in justice, but really did not know my responsibility to forgive. Cry, the Beloved Country changed the way I thought about crime, criminals, inner city problems, and my responses to all of the above. Cry, the Beloved Country taught me that personal relationships mean more than institutional attempts to fix the problems. It is not the government’s responsibility to fix the inner cities, although it is often necessary to depend on the government. It is not the government’s responsibility to feed the poor or heal the sick because it often leads to more problems. Instead it is the responsibility of the church, and individuals investing in lives, to reconcile relationships in the inner cities. God used this book to teach me important lessons that have remained with me throughout my experiences since that time. I have had to deal with forgiving people who have wronged those I loved, even murder. I have also seen those I love commit crimes. Fortunately I have been able to see the human behind the acts and even how society and the church have failed the human, but how God can still redeem the human and the situation for His glory. Next to the Bible, this book has probably done more to change my life and my perspective than anything else I have read.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Countdown to 30: Day 25
I decided to attend Baylor University for my undergraduate studies because I wanted to go to law school there. I made the decision without really considering the cost of the university. I even determined to attend without visiting the campus. The decision to attend Baylor has shaped me in several ways.
First, I let God lead me to where I needed to be trusting that He would provide. Of course I am paying a ton of my salary to student loans now, but it was still worth it to spend seven years in Waco and to create friendships that last to the present. There were times where I was not sure I would have enough money to get what I needed, but God always provided. I also learned how to give sacrificially during that time because I could not afford to tithe, yet I cannot think of any time that I did not tithe without making it up in the next month or two.
Second, I learned a lot about myself during my years at Baylor. You really decide who and what you are going to become when you leave your parents. It was one of the first tests of my faith when I had to really decide if I believed in God like I said that I did. I had many tests of my salvation, and my faith remained intact providing me with assurance of what I knew had occurred as a child. There were many trials over the seven years that I was there, including roommate issues, thesis advisor issues, national crises, money issues, fires in my apartment complex, to name a few. Each trial confirmed my faith in God.
Third, I realized that my love for children had to be incorporated into my adult life somehow. I worked at a daycare for five of the seven years (even though some of that time was subbing and not really regular). I love children. I love working with children. I am a natural at working with children. I am a lawyer. Lawyers do not typically work with children. However, my years spent at the daycare taught me how to be a minister to people with children and how to talk to children. Now I am able to use that experience to represent children in abuse and neglect cases in the courtroom. Also, I am almost always available to babysit for my friends who have children. Finally, my church figured out I am good with children and I am currently teaching in the preschool three year old Sunday school class.
The college years are formative times for almost anyone who moves away from home. I am glad I chose Baylor. The environment was right for me. I plugged into a local church. I confirmed my faith by continuing to experience spiritual growth. There is so much more that could be said about Baylor and my years spent in Waco, and maybe it will make another appearance on this countdown, but for now, these are my brief thoughts as I reflect on my Baylor years.
First, I let God lead me to where I needed to be trusting that He would provide. Of course I am paying a ton of my salary to student loans now, but it was still worth it to spend seven years in Waco and to create friendships that last to the present. There were times where I was not sure I would have enough money to get what I needed, but God always provided. I also learned how to give sacrificially during that time because I could not afford to tithe, yet I cannot think of any time that I did not tithe without making it up in the next month or two.
Second, I learned a lot about myself during my years at Baylor. You really decide who and what you are going to become when you leave your parents. It was one of the first tests of my faith when I had to really decide if I believed in God like I said that I did. I had many tests of my salvation, and my faith remained intact providing me with assurance of what I knew had occurred as a child. There were many trials over the seven years that I was there, including roommate issues, thesis advisor issues, national crises, money issues, fires in my apartment complex, to name a few. Each trial confirmed my faith in God.
Third, I realized that my love for children had to be incorporated into my adult life somehow. I worked at a daycare for five of the seven years (even though some of that time was subbing and not really regular). I love children. I love working with children. I am a natural at working with children. I am a lawyer. Lawyers do not typically work with children. However, my years spent at the daycare taught me how to be a minister to people with children and how to talk to children. Now I am able to use that experience to represent children in abuse and neglect cases in the courtroom. Also, I am almost always available to babysit for my friends who have children. Finally, my church figured out I am good with children and I am currently teaching in the preschool three year old Sunday school class.
The college years are formative times for almost anyone who moves away from home. I am glad I chose Baylor. The environment was right for me. I plugged into a local church. I confirmed my faith by continuing to experience spiritual growth. There is so much more that could be said about Baylor and my years spent in Waco, and maybe it will make another appearance on this countdown, but for now, these are my brief thoughts as I reflect on my Baylor years.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Countdown to 30: Day 26
My parents moved me from Texarkana before my second grade year, and I still have not forgiven them from moving me away from Texarkana. OK, maybe I have (notice, it is a maybe), but the years in Fort Worth did shape who I am today.
My parents had a good reason for moving me. My daddy knew that he was called to the ministry and he was being obedient to God in attending seminary in Fort Worth. It was quite a move of faith for my family though. The relationships that we had in Texarkana were deep. I had to leave my second mother, Ms. Brenda (who took care of me even before I was born); my favorite Sunday school teacher, Mrs. Crystal (no one else compared to her); my favorite teacher, Mrs. Gentry; a good school; an even better church; and the only home I had ever known. It was traumatic.
Our family had to depend on God for everything while we were in Fort Worth. At the time my brother and I probably did not know how much we were depending on God, but my parents have continued to tell stories of God’s provision during the time that we were in Fort Worth. Our family had to depend on God for payment of unexpected bills, clothes and shoes for me and my brother, payment of tuition, Christmas gifts, everything. People from Texarkana were obedient to provide for our family when we were in need.
When I have a need, I usually recall how God was faithful to provide when we were in Fort Worth, and that enables me to have the faith in God to provide in the current situation. I also believe that seeing the generosity of others during that time has made me more generous when I see someone in need or feel God’s Spirit urging me to meet a need. Although I still sort of wish that we had never moved away from Texarkana, I can now see how God used that move to teach me to depend on Him, even through hearing of the stories of provision. Plus, God has allowed me to return to the place that I have always felt is home.
My parents had a good reason for moving me. My daddy knew that he was called to the ministry and he was being obedient to God in attending seminary in Fort Worth. It was quite a move of faith for my family though. The relationships that we had in Texarkana were deep. I had to leave my second mother, Ms. Brenda (who took care of me even before I was born); my favorite Sunday school teacher, Mrs. Crystal (no one else compared to her); my favorite teacher, Mrs. Gentry; a good school; an even better church; and the only home I had ever known. It was traumatic.
Our family had to depend on God for everything while we were in Fort Worth. At the time my brother and I probably did not know how much we were depending on God, but my parents have continued to tell stories of God’s provision during the time that we were in Fort Worth. Our family had to depend on God for payment of unexpected bills, clothes and shoes for me and my brother, payment of tuition, Christmas gifts, everything. People from Texarkana were obedient to provide for our family when we were in need.
When I have a need, I usually recall how God was faithful to provide when we were in Fort Worth, and that enables me to have the faith in God to provide in the current situation. I also believe that seeing the generosity of others during that time has made me more generous when I see someone in need or feel God’s Spirit urging me to meet a need. Although I still sort of wish that we had never moved away from Texarkana, I can now see how God used that move to teach me to depend on Him, even through hearing of the stories of provision. Plus, God has allowed me to return to the place that I have always felt is home.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Countdown to 30: Day 27
New Orleans March 2002. The week in New Orleans for spring break 2002 changed my life forever. New Orleans has done quite a bit to shape me into who I am today. New Orleans will make quite a few appearances over the next few weeks, so I am going to go ahead and lay the foundation for New Orleans as well.
My first trip to the Carver Baptist Center in New Orleans was March 2001. I hated it. I hated the city. The children were rowdy. The Center was not what I expected. The sleeping quarters were hot and crowded. The showers were small and crowded. The French Quarter was dirty and crowded. The trains and boats on the River were loud. There were a ton of things that I did not like about the city. There was one little boy that I did like named Michael, but that was it.
My friend went to New Orleans as a summer missionary the summer of 2001, and I started to fall in love with the children at the Center through her. I also went with her and a few friends fall break of 2001, and God was starting to chip away at some of my dislike of the city. I still had a ways to go, but I was starting to see that God had a plan for that city and for those kids.
In March 2002, our church chose to go on our second spring break mission trip to New Orleans. Although I was slightly disappointed that we were going back to the same place two years in a row (back when I viewed mission trips as a way to see as a new place as much as sharing the gospel), I could not wait to see Michael. There were other children I knew by name by that point and could not wait to see either, but I was most excited about seeing Michael. During that week, my heart towards New Orleans was changed forever.
I was not assigned to work with Michael’s age group, which was a disappointment at the time, but now I can see how God used that to form relationships that are still meaningful today. One of the boys in the class I was assigned to is currently living with me and attending Texarkana College. A simple little decision by a college minister making assignments seven years ago resulted in my ability to host this student today. That college minister probably has no idea that the decision made seven years ago has present day consequences. Isn’t God amazing? A boy who was locked out of his house when we arrived in town who remembers me from that trip although I do not remember him from then is one of the most important people in my life today (you will hear more about him before I reach thirty!). Missionaries who the year before were just names and people we saw working started becoming friends. A city that the year before had not quite captured me became my second home. When I left that mission trip, I began planning my next trip to New Orleans, and I still am always planning my next trip to New Orleans. At this point, I have lost count on how many times I have been there. It is a place that is a part of who I am, and in the past eight years (almost nine now) has taught me so much about God and humanity.
My first trip to the Carver Baptist Center in New Orleans was March 2001. I hated it. I hated the city. The children were rowdy. The Center was not what I expected. The sleeping quarters were hot and crowded. The showers were small and crowded. The French Quarter was dirty and crowded. The trains and boats on the River were loud. There were a ton of things that I did not like about the city. There was one little boy that I did like named Michael, but that was it.
My friend went to New Orleans as a summer missionary the summer of 2001, and I started to fall in love with the children at the Center through her. I also went with her and a few friends fall break of 2001, and God was starting to chip away at some of my dislike of the city. I still had a ways to go, but I was starting to see that God had a plan for that city and for those kids.
In March 2002, our church chose to go on our second spring break mission trip to New Orleans. Although I was slightly disappointed that we were going back to the same place two years in a row (back when I viewed mission trips as a way to see as a new place as much as sharing the gospel), I could not wait to see Michael. There were other children I knew by name by that point and could not wait to see either, but I was most excited about seeing Michael. During that week, my heart towards New Orleans was changed forever.
I was not assigned to work with Michael’s age group, which was a disappointment at the time, but now I can see how God used that to form relationships that are still meaningful today. One of the boys in the class I was assigned to is currently living with me and attending Texarkana College. A simple little decision by a college minister making assignments seven years ago resulted in my ability to host this student today. That college minister probably has no idea that the decision made seven years ago has present day consequences. Isn’t God amazing? A boy who was locked out of his house when we arrived in town who remembers me from that trip although I do not remember him from then is one of the most important people in my life today (you will hear more about him before I reach thirty!). Missionaries who the year before were just names and people we saw working started becoming friends. A city that the year before had not quite captured me became my second home. When I left that mission trip, I began planning my next trip to New Orleans, and I still am always planning my next trip to New Orleans. At this point, I have lost count on how many times I have been there. It is a place that is a part of who I am, and in the past eight years (almost nine now) has taught me so much about God and humanity.
Countdown to 30: Day 28
Although my parents were key to my salvation because the gospel started in our home, there were two other people that really made a difference in my early years also resulting in my change of heart – Mrs. Crystal and Bro. Jordan.
Mrs. Crystal was my Sunday school teacher for years. I cannot remember a time when she was not my Sunday school teacher until my family moved to Fort Worth before my second grade year. She faithfully loved me for the important years in my childhood and faithfully taught me God’s word. I adored her, and I think that she felt the same way about me. Not only was she there for all of the church events, but she had a son the same age as me, and was there for all of my school events as well. I thought of her as a second mother. I think that she is an example of how teachers of young children do not realize how much they mean in the lives of the children that they teach. She was obedient to God’s call to teach the word of God to children, and because of her obedience, children like me responded to the gospel. She was faithful to love and that show of God’s love made church a place that this child looked forward to each week. Now I get to teach her grandson and love all over him and teach him God’s word which I know is being taught to him in his home as well, and I am glad that his Granna modeled for me how to show God’s love to children.
Bro. Jordan was our preacher during my early childhood years. I do not remember much about sermons that he preached. I do know that he used the Bible in all of his sermons and, from hearing him preach when I got older, that he tries to make the Bible passage central to the message. I do know that he taught about sin and taught that it was bad and would send you to hell. In fact, I think that he preached about hell – a lot. Enough to make this child afraid of going there and being separated from God. I am convinced that because he was faithful to teach the hard things of God’s word – sin, hell, God’s wrath – as well as about God’s love and the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross, I had an understanding of the basics of the gospel at a young age. My parents took their responsibility to discipline children seriously making sure that we knew how to sit through the service at a very young age (pretty much from birth forward), and God rewarded that with me hearing preaching based on the God’s word from a young age and God gave me an understanding at a young age.
I tend to not agree with having children’s church. Although there are a handful of children (at our church I could probably count them on one hand) that may need to be in children’s church instead of in the service, the majority of our children need to be exposed to the biblical preaching that comes from the pulpit at a young age. Is it a hassle to discipline during church? Yes. Do other members of the church tend to wish that children were not in the service? Yes. These same people do not understand the importance of children’s ministry and often did not make church a priority in their homes and do not know how to humble themselves in the body of Christ anyway. Will God reward our churches when we train our children in the things of God? Most definitely. I will say that I try to be as patient and understanding as possible when parents choose to have their children near me because the child needs to hear the sermon as much as I do. One day that child may be writing about his or her Sunday school teacher and Bro. Scott and how the faithfulness of those in the church resulted in that child having an understanding of the gospel.
Mrs. Crystal was my Sunday school teacher for years. I cannot remember a time when she was not my Sunday school teacher until my family moved to Fort Worth before my second grade year. She faithfully loved me for the important years in my childhood and faithfully taught me God’s word. I adored her, and I think that she felt the same way about me. Not only was she there for all of the church events, but she had a son the same age as me, and was there for all of my school events as well. I thought of her as a second mother. I think that she is an example of how teachers of young children do not realize how much they mean in the lives of the children that they teach. She was obedient to God’s call to teach the word of God to children, and because of her obedience, children like me responded to the gospel. She was faithful to love and that show of God’s love made church a place that this child looked forward to each week. Now I get to teach her grandson and love all over him and teach him God’s word which I know is being taught to him in his home as well, and I am glad that his Granna modeled for me how to show God’s love to children.
Bro. Jordan was our preacher during my early childhood years. I do not remember much about sermons that he preached. I do know that he used the Bible in all of his sermons and, from hearing him preach when I got older, that he tries to make the Bible passage central to the message. I do know that he taught about sin and taught that it was bad and would send you to hell. In fact, I think that he preached about hell – a lot. Enough to make this child afraid of going there and being separated from God. I am convinced that because he was faithful to teach the hard things of God’s word – sin, hell, God’s wrath – as well as about God’s love and the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross, I had an understanding of the basics of the gospel at a young age. My parents took their responsibility to discipline children seriously making sure that we knew how to sit through the service at a very young age (pretty much from birth forward), and God rewarded that with me hearing preaching based on the God’s word from a young age and God gave me an understanding at a young age.
I tend to not agree with having children’s church. Although there are a handful of children (at our church I could probably count them on one hand) that may need to be in children’s church instead of in the service, the majority of our children need to be exposed to the biblical preaching that comes from the pulpit at a young age. Is it a hassle to discipline during church? Yes. Do other members of the church tend to wish that children were not in the service? Yes. These same people do not understand the importance of children’s ministry and often did not make church a priority in their homes and do not know how to humble themselves in the body of Christ anyway. Will God reward our churches when we train our children in the things of God? Most definitely. I will say that I try to be as patient and understanding as possible when parents choose to have their children near me because the child needs to hear the sermon as much as I do. One day that child may be writing about his or her Sunday school teacher and Bro. Scott and how the faithfulness of those in the church resulted in that child having an understanding of the gospel.
Countdown to 30: Day 29
My parents played a key part in my salvation at a young age. I used to think that I had the most boring testimony ever. Now I see how my testimony is the type of testimony that God actually desires and delights in because it is the result of my parents’ obedience and faithfulness to God’s Word.
As a child, I remember church and Bible stories being important parts of our home. Church was always a priority, and both mom and daddy took us to church. Even when we went out of town, we were in church. Nothing came before church. No activity was more important than church. My parents even made the important decision to keep me and my brother in church for the preaching instead of sending us to children’s church. Because of this, I was exposed to preaching that was gospel centered and based on God’s word. Church was not the only time that I heard God’s word though. My parents were faithful in reading and teaching me and my brother Bible stories all throughout our childhood.
Deuteronomy 6:4-9 says “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.” It is God’s will for the home to be the place where the things of God are taught, and my parents made sure to obey that command.
I think that too often parents make the mistake of thinking that their children are not old enough to understand the things of God, or that the things of God need to be simplified or watered down, or that the church is supposed to teach their children about God. My parents did not let any of these things deter them from being obedient to God’s command to teach children the things of God. Of course some things are going to be too difficult for children to understand – adults cannot understand. However, children are often better at accepting things because God said so on faith than teenagers or adults, so it is important to teach them to accept concepts such as the Trinity at a young age. God makes it clear that His word is what produces fruit, so there is no need for parents to water down what God’s word says. It may be necessary to make it age appropriate or to explain it in a way that children may better understand, but the ugliness of sin and the commands of God should be communicated. God demands obedience to His word and nothing less. God commands that children be taught what God has done in the past so that children know who God is.
My parents have been faithful to communicate the things of God to the next generation by making God’s word a priority in our home. They also lived the gospel. I understood God’s unconditional love because it was like the love of my parents. I understood God’s faithfulness to His children because of my parents’ faithfulness to our family and each other. I understood God as a father because I had a godly daddy. I was willing to make sacrifices to live for God because I had seen my mom and daddy make sacrifices following God. I am who I am today because I had godly parents who made the gospel a priority in our home, resulting in my salvation at a young age, and, I am convinced, saving our family from a lot of heartbreak that comes from the actions of rebellious children.
As a child, I remember church and Bible stories being important parts of our home. Church was always a priority, and both mom and daddy took us to church. Even when we went out of town, we were in church. Nothing came before church. No activity was more important than church. My parents even made the important decision to keep me and my brother in church for the preaching instead of sending us to children’s church. Because of this, I was exposed to preaching that was gospel centered and based on God’s word. Church was not the only time that I heard God’s word though. My parents were faithful in reading and teaching me and my brother Bible stories all throughout our childhood.
Deuteronomy 6:4-9 says “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.” It is God’s will for the home to be the place where the things of God are taught, and my parents made sure to obey that command.
I think that too often parents make the mistake of thinking that their children are not old enough to understand the things of God, or that the things of God need to be simplified or watered down, or that the church is supposed to teach their children about God. My parents did not let any of these things deter them from being obedient to God’s command to teach children the things of God. Of course some things are going to be too difficult for children to understand – adults cannot understand. However, children are often better at accepting things because God said so on faith than teenagers or adults, so it is important to teach them to accept concepts such as the Trinity at a young age. God makes it clear that His word is what produces fruit, so there is no need for parents to water down what God’s word says. It may be necessary to make it age appropriate or to explain it in a way that children may better understand, but the ugliness of sin and the commands of God should be communicated. God demands obedience to His word and nothing less. God commands that children be taught what God has done in the past so that children know who God is.
My parents have been faithful to communicate the things of God to the next generation by making God’s word a priority in our home. They also lived the gospel. I understood God’s unconditional love because it was like the love of my parents. I understood God’s faithfulness to His children because of my parents’ faithfulness to our family and each other. I understood God as a father because I had a godly daddy. I was willing to make sacrifices to live for God because I had seen my mom and daddy make sacrifices following God. I am who I am today because I had godly parents who made the gospel a priority in our home, resulting in my salvation at a young age, and, I am convinced, saving our family from a lot of heartbreak that comes from the actions of rebellious children.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Countdown to 30: Day 30
I am going to start with the post that if I was prioritizing the list building up to what has shaped me most would fall on Day 1. I feel like it is a good place to start because it forms the foundation for all of the other posts. In some ways it also allows me to build up the suspense for the rests of the posts because the one that most people would guess is the most life-changing is first, so what else am I going to write about?!
I became a Christian at a very young age. I think I was five, but I may have been as young as four. I remember the event vaguely, and I think it is a good thing that the memory is kind of fuzzy. I do not have security in my salvation based upon an emotional experience that I had as a five year old, although I am confident that my salvation dates back to that time. Instead, my security comes from being able to see how God has worked in my life from that time to the present.
The gospel has shaped my life from that time forward. I am fortunate to have learned at a very young age the important principles of the gospel. I knew that God was a holy God because I heard God preached about and taught about and I sung Holy, Holy, Holy. I knew that God did not like it when I disobeyed Him. I learned the different ways that I disobeyed God from Sunday school teachers, preachers, and my parents. I knew that I was a sinner and I hated my sin. I knew that Jesus loved me and came to die in my place on the cross even though He had not sinned. I knew that Jesus had risen from the dead. I knew that I had to be sorry about my sins, love God, and turn away from my sins and towards God. I knew all of that at five. I did not fully understand what I was doing, and I do not fully understand to this day my salvation. I do know that God changed my life that day, and that I am who I am today because of the change in my life. This change of heart at a young age has shaped who I am today. Twenty-five years later, I can see how God has blessed my life because of my obedience as a five year old.
I became a Christian at a very young age. I think I was five, but I may have been as young as four. I remember the event vaguely, and I think it is a good thing that the memory is kind of fuzzy. I do not have security in my salvation based upon an emotional experience that I had as a five year old, although I am confident that my salvation dates back to that time. Instead, my security comes from being able to see how God has worked in my life from that time to the present.
The gospel has shaped my life from that time forward. I am fortunate to have learned at a very young age the important principles of the gospel. I knew that God was a holy God because I heard God preached about and taught about and I sung Holy, Holy, Holy. I knew that God did not like it when I disobeyed Him. I learned the different ways that I disobeyed God from Sunday school teachers, preachers, and my parents. I knew that I was a sinner and I hated my sin. I knew that Jesus loved me and came to die in my place on the cross even though He had not sinned. I knew that Jesus had risen from the dead. I knew that I had to be sorry about my sins, love God, and turn away from my sins and towards God. I knew all of that at five. I did not fully understand what I was doing, and I do not fully understand to this day my salvation. I do know that God changed my life that day, and that I am who I am today because of the change in my life. This change of heart at a young age has shaped who I am today. Twenty-five years later, I can see how God has blessed my life because of my obedience as a five year old.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Countdown to 30: Let the Countdown Begin!
Starting tomorrow for thirty days, I am going to countdown to my thirtieth birthday by sharing different events, people, circumstances, and maybe even books/movies that have had a significant impact on my life in my first thirty years of living. I am not going to do the blogs in any particular order. For some things, I may have to do several posts just to get the impact across. Some may be humorous, but most are probably going to be on the serious side. I am really excited about turning thirty. I think it is going to be a fun time of reflecting for me over the next few weeks as I think about what I should write about. I think it will also be fun for readers of my blog to see what I have chosen to share that has shaped me in the first thirty years of my life. I hope that you will join me on my journey the next thirty days as I countdown to thirty!
Monday, October 5, 2009
Christian Movies (and Books and TV shows and made-for-TV movies)
This blogger, Gene Veith, captured my thoughts exactly on the modern trend in Christian entertainment:
I have not heard of Gene Veith before today, but his statement could not be more true in my opinion.
But take some lessons from the past. I am currently teaching a course entitled “Major Christian Authors,” covering such authors as Dante, Spenser, Herbert, Bunyan, Hopkins, Chesterton, T. S. Eliot, C. S. Lewis, Charles Williams, Graham Greene, Flannery O’Connor. NONE of them wrote about people’s personal problems. There is not one terminally ill orphan in the whole lot. No scenes about broken marriages or friends dying or sports teams winning the big game. These classic Christian authors–who actually did influence their cultures–saw Christianity as being rather more than a means of solving life’s problems, and none of them lapsed into the deadly aesthetic sin of SENTIMENTALITY.
I have not heard of Gene Veith before today, but his statement could not be more true in my opinion.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Reasons I am not disappointed that the 2016 Olympics will be in Rio
(1) Now we will not have to listen to complaints about how much the Olympic building projects are costing the city of Chicago, the citizens of Chicago, the US Government to help out Chicago, etc., etc., etc. Seriously, if it cost $1.2 million just for the President to make his overnight trip to Copenhagen, then we are probably saving money until the then-President flies to Rio to watch the games.
(2) Having the Olympics hosted in a city with a reputation of crime will hopefully make the Atlanta bombing not look so bad to the IOC, thereby increasing the US's chances of hosting another Olympics game at some point in the future.
(3) In 2012 we will not have to hear Obama bragging about singlehandedly bringing the Olympic games to Chicago.
(4) The opening ceremonies will be much cooler in Rio. What would Chicago do for opening ceremonies? Rap? Hip-hop? Blues? Evolution of American music and dance? Fire? Mob? World fair serial killer tribute? Rio will probably do Carnival and it will be cool with the outrageous costumes.
(5) It is about time that South America join the hosting.
(6) Olympics cost more than they make in the short-term.
(7) We will probably have a scandal about an American athlete(s) partying too much in Rio and be able to blame bad performances on that. The excuse would not work too well in Chicago.
(8) It isn't Tokyo.
(9) The world's attention will be turned for a little while to a place that needs the gospel. Of course this would have been true for all of the other cities on the list as well, but most of us probably do not think of Rio that often.
(10) We do not have to hear the "They're Coming to America" song for the year preceding the games!
(2) Having the Olympics hosted in a city with a reputation of crime will hopefully make the Atlanta bombing not look so bad to the IOC, thereby increasing the US's chances of hosting another Olympics game at some point in the future.
(3) In 2012 we will not have to hear Obama bragging about singlehandedly bringing the Olympic games to Chicago.
(4) The opening ceremonies will be much cooler in Rio. What would Chicago do for opening ceremonies? Rap? Hip-hop? Blues? Evolution of American music and dance? Fire? Mob? World fair serial killer tribute? Rio will probably do Carnival and it will be cool with the outrageous costumes.
(5) It is about time that South America join the hosting.
(6) Olympics cost more than they make in the short-term.
(7) We will probably have a scandal about an American athlete(s) partying too much in Rio and be able to blame bad performances on that. The excuse would not work too well in Chicago.
(8) It isn't Tokyo.
(9) The world's attention will be turned for a little while to a place that needs the gospel. Of course this would have been true for all of the other cities on the list as well, but most of us probably do not think of Rio that often.
(10) We do not have to hear the "They're Coming to America" song for the year preceding the games!
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