Father's Day Reflections

Today, I spent Father's day 1177 miles away from my dad.  In the last two weeks, I have moved from Lubbock, Texas to the town of Wilmore, Kentucky.  Father's day was the first holiday or special occasion which reminded me of all the valuable relationships I left many miles away.  I miss them all.  But today, I was comforted as a reflected on some precious memories of my daddy that I would like to share.

I remember when I was 5 years old having a guys night "in" with my dad.  The girls probably went shopping or something, so my dad and I had the house all to ourselves.  What did the boys choose to do? Turn the living room into a wrestle-mania center with one catch: you could only wear underwear.  The look on Mom and Haley's face when they arrived home told of us how silly we were.

In that same year, my mom and I found a snake in a tree one summer afternoon as we were playing catch in the front yard.  I don't recall my reaction, but I know my mom freaked out.  She phoned my dad, and he rushed home a friend from the La Tech Wesley. They began to throw every ball in the house at a snake on a branch some 40 feet in the air.  My job was to collect all the misfires and bring them back.  Some 40 minutes later the snake was knocked out of the tree, and I was having the funnest afternoon of my childhood.

I remember when I was in fifth grade.  I was a sports fanatic.  Not only did I watch Sportscenter 3 times a day, I also played every sport I could.  That summer I was pitching for my baseball team in Lubbock, TX.   My friends called me "El Duke" because I had the most out-of-control leg kick in the history of baseball.  It was ugly.  But that day I was pitching the game of my life.  I had struck out 10 batters, and only allowed a few hits.  It was the last inning, and we were down by one run.  I was on third base when the pitcher from the other team through a wild pitch.  I dashed for home, but the ball beat me there.  Then I made a slide where I slid under the tag to touch home plate before the ball touched me.  What a play, except that the ump screamed OUT!  I remember crying all the way back to the dugout (I was that kid).  My dad's reaction?  He was CLIMBING the fence arguing the call with the ump.  He may have been out-of-control or crazy, but my dad fought for me.

My dad is also a pastor.  I have been blessed by all the conversations I have shared with my dad whether in a one-on-one, family, or group setting.  But my dad's sermons have shaped me into who I am.  He taught me more than just right and wrong, he taught me what it meant for Jesus to be Lord.  His sermons taught me what it means to be a man, what it means to be forgiven, what it means to be humble, and what it means to be dependent on him.  It's pretty unique to have my dad be my pastor, but I am beyond blessed to have been shaped by the Holy Spirit speaking through his words.

Today I carry my dad with me.  I love to be silly. I love to be fun.  I will fight for those I love.  And I love Jesus.

I also LOVE my dad.

June 1st- Moving Day

Moving is a very surreal thing.  It is a weird feeling to finally do the thing you have been awaiting and preparing for over the last 3 months.  We woke up this morning in Fort Walton, Florida to pack up the car and say our goodbyes.  Yes, I am 25 years old.  And yes, evidently I still cry when I say goodbye to my family.  I have learned I cry because I care.

We got on the road close to 9am to undertake an 11 hour drive with our final destination being Wilmore, Kentucky.  I was awake for all 11 hours.  However, Elise was only awake for 5 hours of the journey.  To her credit, she is a really cute sleeper.  We stopped for lunch in Montgomery, Alabama at a soul food restraint called Isaiah’s.  We loved it.  Our waiter unleashed a chorus of Hallelujahs when we told him we were currently moving to Seminary. 

For dinner we got to see THE Grant Terry, better known by me as Gripples.  (Great Nipples) Grant is my best friend and now lives in Nashville, Tennessee.  This was our first time to Nashville, so he took us to his favorite restraint and a brief tour of the town.  The restaurant and the city lived up to the hype.  It was really cool to get to see a glimpse of Grant’s life too.  We will now  be 3 hours away from each other instead of the 22 hours that had separated us the last three years.  We already have plans to see the Titans next football season.

Driving can be boring, but it is especially boring when you have a radio antenna that will not pick up any stations.  Luckily, we found my old cd case that had the music I used to listen to almost 8 years ago. It was a CD, not a cassett tape(I am not that old).  The CD’s we enjoyed the most were anything by Dashboard Confessional.  Elise had not heard of most of there older stuff.  I realized this was a part of me that Elise did not yet know.  This was crazy to me.

You see, when I was a senior in high school, I LOVED Dashboard Confessional.  A friend burned me a CD that had 22 acoustical songs of emo mushy gushy romance goodness.  I think that CD stayed in my CD player for a whole year.  I didn’t get tired of it.  Wow. I’m totally an emo for typing these last three sentences.

Anyways, there is a point to this.  It was so much fun to continue to show Elise a side of me she didn’t know.  And not only did she like getting to know other parts about me, she also liked Dashboard! Well, believe it or not Elise fell asleep in an hour, and I was left alone to drive and go into deep self-reflection.  (MORE EMO) As I reflected on what I use to like, my old favorite things, and my past, I was reminded over and over again of his grace for me.  There were many things in my life that as I reflected on them, I realized how God was at work for the first time.  Jesus really is everywhere.  It is only by his grace I am who I am today.  It is only by his grace I am where I am today.  As I reflect on my past, I am reflecting on His Grace. 

Yes, it’s fun for Elise to get to know a little more about me, but it was overwhelming for me to see a little bit more of His Grace at work in my life.

Joy in His Word

While we were in Haiti, we got to spend one week on the Northern coast of Haiti in St. Louis de norte. Haiti is the poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere. The average person lives on less than a dollar per day. St. Louis de norte was the poorest part of Haiti, So our team was in the poorest area of the poorest country. When you walk outside, you see poverty in people's faces, living conditions, and road quality. Trash was everywhere. St. Louis de Norte, a beautiful mountainous region less than a mile from the ocean, did not have a single street without massive amounts of trash. Everywhere you looked the devastation of poverty in this nation was evident. It breaks your heart, makes you angry at yourself and your country, changes the way you want to live, changes your definition of the word "need," and even sometimes cripples you emotionally.

In response to what we saw, our team agreed to participate in a grocery ministry the Northwest Haiti Christian Mission had to offer. This ministry aims to provide food to those who simply can't afford it. Along with providing for their physical needs, this ministry gives the people of Haiti a precious bible for their spiritual needs. I say "precious" because bible's are extremely expensive and hard to come by all throughout Haiti. With money that our team members themselves donated and money we had raised as a team, our group went down to the local market to purchase different groceries. Now, the Haitian market is an experience in and of itself, but that's neither here nor there. Our team had enough money to purchase 8 different bags. We bought things like eggplants, carrots, rice, beans, meat, flour, candy, and bananas. Our group then split up into two groups with four bags each. Our charge was to take these bags to wherever we feel led. We walked around for about 30 minutes until we got to the more remote areas of St. Louis. Of course the further from the center of town we got, the quality of houses continued to get poorer and poorer. At one of the four stops, we went to a man's home who seemed to have a rather large family with a rather small house. We walked up to him, gave him the bag, and gave him the gift of food in the name of Jesus. He accepted the gift with almost no emotional expression, and then he let us pray for him and his family. Our team had one bag left to give, so we shook his hand and left to start on our hike up a mountain to give the last bag. As we left his front yard I looked back for one last glimpse at the family. After we had left, they gathered around the bag to explore through the contents. Make no mistake, this family was poor. I watched them began to scream out loud and lift up there hands. This man had found the bible buried underneath the grocery items and had lifted it up for the family to see.

I saw something in them that I myself did not have. This family living in a poor family in a poor region in a poor nation was shouting for joy because of God providing for them the word of God. Their emotions said it all. Their hunger for His Word was greater than their hunger for food. They had a joy in His Word. I take his word, his truth, his life he so freely gives for granted. Scripture to them was important, sacred, fresh, God-breathed, and meaningful. Am I hungry for his truth that will set me free?

Spiritual Inadequacy

The day before our mission trip to Haiti started, our team had the privilege of having a share time to better prepare our hearts for the upcoming trip. An interesting question was asked: "What are you most afraid of about the upcoming trip?" Of course Michelle Matijevich said spiders, some talked of language barriers, and others talked about how hard it would be to not be in a leadership position of control.

However, there was one answer that was a common theme among college age people including myself. (does 23 still count?) As the fact that we were leaving tomorrow set in, many of us were afraid because we felt inadequate to share the gospel and serve in His Name due to struggles and sins in our life that we were bringing into the trip. Why did it take me the day before my mission trip to have a willingness to deal with that inadequacy or weakness? I knew inside that God was desiring to make his love known through me, but how is that any different than any other moment throughout the year when I am in Lubbock? It's not, but I make it different. I realize many times I focus on fixing myself instead of looking and asking God how he is longing to transform the people around me and myself. There have also been times in my life when I focus so much on ministry that I forget and ignore really what God wants to do in me. It's crazy to me to see how naturally a lifestyle of being apart of God's royal priesthood, a minister, a preacher, or a christian still intersects with God transforming my own weakness. I think it is apart of God's desire to grow the whole of me and not just part of me.

I also think spiritual inadequacy is the first tactic the enemy uses to keep us from sharing his gospel. I think we need to do a better job of recognizing that. Kelly McCuaig encouraged us by sharing "Remember that if anyone is in Christ, you are a new creation! Live in that promise."

Are you living in that promise of being a new creation?

Are you allowing God to grow the whole of you, not just part of you?

Are you sharing Him?

Are you overwhelmed with inadequacy?

Haiti: The Enemy Has Been Defeated

As many of you know, I spent the last week on a mission trip with 17 other people in the city of St. Louis de norte, Haiti. I am still processing many of the things I saw and circumstances I experienced, but I hope this blog will be a great way to share with you how God moved on our trip.

Here is what people say about Haiti. Haiti is 20% Baptist, 80% Catholic, and 100% voodoo. This statistic just goes to say that it is very culturally acceptable to be a christian and also to practice voodoo rituals. Going into my Haiti trip, my picture of voodoo practices came from James Bond and Indiana Jones movies. Anybody? Anyways, on the last day of our trip, our team traveled an hour to "tour" a voodoo temple and monument in the surrounding area. The first place we went was the voodoo monument. This monument was actually the base of a crumbled catholic cross which was placed on a 300 foot hill overlooking the surrounding village. When we got there our hearts truly broke. People would take this 15 minute hike to bring pictures or letters or articles of clothing to burn in holes to represent prayers. I was unsure if these prayers were to bless, to curse, or both. There were about 5 Haitians at the monument when we arrived. One was a witch doctor making a woman with a donkey tail walk around the crumbled cross 5 times so her prayers would be answered. It sure seems to be a human condition that we try frantically and crazily to fix our problems. Some of us try other religions; others of us simply practice pure selfishness. There was also a boy whose body was shaking violently and making wierd demonic noises. It was dark. We had been instructed to not take pictures, to not make a scene, and to be very nice because our facial expressions were a witness. As you look out over the city you can't help but realize what this monument means. This voodoo monument was laying claim to the territory of this village in the same way the cross had laid claim to this city 100 years ago. I think before this trip I had heard a lot about spiritual strongholds and territorial spirits, but the picture of what was unfolding before my eyes in this city and at that specific spot helped me fully grasp what a spiritual stronghold looks like. So, naturally we prayed. Our team joined hands around the crumbled cross and asked for the sacred voodoo spot to be redeemed, for God's light to penetrate the darkness, for God's love to grip the leaders of the voodoo following. It was a prayer we prayed with faith. We were leaving the next day and knew we would not see results while we were in Haiti. However, listen to these verses I was blessed with reading this morning:

"For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to maked it obedient to Christ." 2 Corinthians 10:3-5

There was a war waged on that hill that day overlooking the city, and I firmly believe that divine power was sent to demolish strongholds. I give God glory and thanks for the work he did, he's doing, and will do to redeem this spiritual stronghold.

who we are

I am 23 years old, and a year out of college. To be honest it is a hard place to be. (I hate to admit that something has been hard on me.) I'm at a transition stage in my life even though I am surrounded by most of the same people and have the same day-to-day occurences. I think as a 23 year old I have subconciously put pressure on myself to do something great right now. I want to feel accomplished in what I do. I want my career to take off. I want to have success in whatever I do. I think I am learning my family and American influences and tendencies. Things like the greater the title of what I do, the more accomplished I feel about what I do. I want to be the best at whatever I do.

All of these things are tendencies and influences which are clearly apart of my logic, thinking, and decisions. I am not proud of these lines of thought. I am proud to have a God who continually transforms my body, mind and spirit. I pray that God will continue to give me the mind of Christ as it pertains to my future, my current work, and the fruit I bear.

A friend of mine, Scott Latham, asked God during is quiet time, "What are we to be?"
God's response,"Scott you are to be a tree: a shelter for those passing through who need shade and rest, a place for them to climb up and see a vision of who they are to become. But Scott, you are to be immovable none the less."

As Scott was sharing this with me, I realized how once again God was longing to redefine what my ministry looked like. I am gladly becoming the director of mission/campus life at the Wesley Foundation. It is a role which has more definition than I have had as an intern this past year. However, the vision Scott recieved helped me have more vision and definition about who I am to be as a minister than any title of pastor could ever have.

Freshman in college, 8th graders at Irons Junior high, 45 year old pastors, school teacher's, how is God longing to redefine what your ministry looks like in your world?

Are the words you speak life giving? Are they a catalyst towards people relizing God's purpose, vision, and plans for their life?

Are you an immovable tree? Do you have deep roots and a firm foundation of who God has called you to be?

Does the prescense of the Lord in your life offer peace to others?

I love unpacking this picture, love to hear how God speaks to you through this!

An incredible testimony

I have a friend named Sean Quereshi who I have known for the last four years. Sean was born into a Muslim family and has been a devout Muslim for the last 21 years of his life. This is his story and testimony of how God changed his life:

"May 22nd, 2010. The night that Jesus opened my eyes and I could see for the first time was unlike any other. Spent the day talking to a good friend about how we sometimes miss God’s big picture for us and had to catch myself from time to time because I would start talking about Jesus and how good He is. Haha so Jesus didn’t just show up on one night and rock my world, but instead he took an icepick and slowly started to chip away and unfreeze my heart and reveal His love for me. But at Midnight Worship, everything seemed perfect and even if you didn’t believe in God, you couldn’t deny a spiritual presence in the room. The message was good and the music just sang in tune with every bone on my body.

But somehow despite the loudness of the place praising Jesus, a stillness swept over me and I drifted into a childhood memory. I have a terrible memory so this is literally the only childhood memory I can remember and I strongly believe there was a reason now why I remember it so vivdly. I was 4 years old and we were visiting Pakistan. I went with my dad to go buy some bread and a local outdoor market. I’m not sure how I got distracted, but for a child my age it probably wasn’t easy. I somehow lost where my father was, but then saw a man that was dressed exactly like him so I started following him home. When he got to his house, he closed the door behind him with me still standing outside. I was so confused, so I started knocking and that slowly turned into pounding as I couldn’t understand why my father wasn’t answering my distressed call. After awhile, I left and somehow made it to a dark alley and tears started flowing from my eyes, as different thoughts ran through my head: my father doesn’t love me, maybe I did something wrong, why wasn’t I a better son. I’m not sure how long I was there until I saw a bright light defeat the darkness around me. It was one of my father’s relatives on his motorcycle so thankful that he found me because my father was worried sick about me being lost. I can still remember what I said when my father found me, I said in hindi, "Sean goomo, baba dunliya" or in english "I was lost, but my Father found me."

The impact of that illustration is that even though I was seeking and knocking and praying God would open the door for me, I wasn’t knocking on my real Father’s door. Instead my Father knew me, but I had lost Him for 21 years and laid crying in a dark alley trying to fix myself up so my father would like me again. But “No one knows the Father except the Son and to those to whom the son chooses to reveal to Him.” That relative who came and wrapped his arms around me was Jesus and he took me back home so that I could rejoice with my true Father.

I opened up my eyes at Midnight Worship and tears were rolling down my face and I thought the whole time I had my arms crossed around me, but they were at my side, something else was holding me tight. My Father was holding me tight. At this point, I turned to my friend next to me and asked him what I had to do to be saved and he prayed over me and I surrendered myself to Jesus around 1:50 am on that late Friday night."

This image of God our Father absolutely made cry. I praise God for his grace that has continually been poured down. May God's name continue to receive glory as his story is passed on. I am super stoaked that I can now call my friend Sean a brother in Christ. Share his story; he wants it to be shared.