Pasta Pastor

We are having a contest with my teenagers that should prove interesting. Tomorrow they will turn in pasta likenesses of me in an effort to win Newsboys Tickets. I know that there are at least 3 entries so far. I've actually seen one, and it is the bomb. I'll post pictures of the entries here. We have an independent judge coming in to decide which entry looks the most like me! After I post the pictures, you can get in on the voting, as well, so check back Thursday morning for the pics.

Big Trouble Can Come, too.

The "birthday season" has arrived. Saturday before last, we had two to attend. Last Saturday was another. There are more looming on the horizon. But last Saturday was a 2 for 1 party. Two of Jeremiah's classmates were having parties at Chuck E. Cheese. I happen to like Chuck E. Cheese because they don't let the kids leave without a parent, and you can see the whole place from the right seat, so the kids can run wild while I read or write (or sleep for that matter). Our Chuck E. Cheese has a new Hampton Inn next door with a STRONG Wi-Fi signal so I can actually be online while we're there. So, we showed up at Noon for the party and made our way through the ocean of children to the back corner where the parties were taking place. As we made our way back there I saw one of Rick's parents (he's one of the little boys that Jeremiah led to Christ last Thursday). That's when the feeling of trepidation hit. My mind raced as I thought of all the possible responses a parent could have to what had happened with her son at school. And most of the responses I could imagine were mildly negative to highly volatile. Am I about to get a smack down Cheerleader mom style in Chuck E. Cheese? Damage control kicked in as she made eye contact with me and headed my way (insert ominous music here).

She came over and told me that something had happened on Wednesday or Thursday of last week. I told her I was sure it was Thursday. Well, her son had gotten into the car after school that day and proceeded to tell her that he "became a Christian today." She responded to him by saying, "Well, that's nice, Honey. We're all Christians," and continued on with her check list of things she needed to get done. Rick stopped her thoughts, though, when he said, "No, really. I'm not going to Hell now. I said a prayer and gave Jesus my life and I am a REAL Christian now." As she is telling me this, I am just waiting for the "Who do you think you are..." or the "How dare you..." But she stops and tells me how grateful they are for Jeremiah and that a wonderful thing has happened. It turns out that they are all excited about Rick. His grandfather is a pastor and he's excited, too. She finishes her conversation with me telling me how excited Rick is and how he is going to be bringing his Bible to school to read with Jeremiah, and that they are grateful for Jeremiah.

I made a couple of observations afterward that I think are paramount.
1. What if her response had been negative? What would I have done? I hope that I would have been gracious and still maintained the positive of the whole encounter; and that is that a little boy came to Jesus last week. I'm sure that my kids will cause some trouble as they further the kingdom. This encounter, although a hugely positive encounter, reminded me of the reality that trouble from spreading the Gospel is coming and I need to be ready.

2. Rick's mom responded to him by saying, "We're all Christians." I've made an assumption with this family that they are believers based on the fact that they attend church on a regular basis. They are VERY nice people. Rick's dad is very outgoing and just a joy to be around. All that to say, however, if they think that everyone is a Christian, then maybe they are not and I need to be speaking Gospel truth into their lives, as well. With Rick coming to Jesus, it's the perfect time to start that conversation.

3. A more general observation I made was that not everyone will respond to the Gospel in a negative way. That's a no brainer...but you'd be surprised at how many times you make the assumption that people only respond negatively to the Gospel. I am always prepared for people to balk at the thought of Jesus, but some people actually respond in a positive way and that I need to expect both reactions, and not just the negative.

So, what are you waiting for? Go cause some trouble and be blessed by the good that will come of it!

Big things and little packages...

Last Wednesday night, Jeremiah (my 7 year old) and I were riding home in my truck when he asked me if I thought his teachers would let him take his Bible to recess.

"I'm not sure, bud. Why?" was my reply.

His response was thoughtful, "Well, I realized tonight that I am not spreading God's Word like I should be."

Now, you've got to understand that this kind of conversation is normal with Jeremiah. He thinks things thru. Sometimes that keeps him from focusing on the task at hand because he has not resolved an earlier issue in his mind. I have to say that I really look forward to these talks, and could tell that a real deep conversation was about to ensue.

"Could you write down the words I prayed when I became a Christian?" he continued.

My response was one of encouragement, "Well, I can. But can you tell me what you prayed about that night?" He and Cayla (then 5 but now 6) had come to me a few months ago to tell me they were ready to follow Christ and understood their need for Him. They just needed me to "help them with the words."

"Well," he said, "I told Jesus He could have my life and that I needed him to wash my sins away. And I thanked Him for dieing on the cross for me so I could live with Him forever."

"Can you remember that and make it into a prayer?" I continued.

"I think so." he said, as he thought for a moment. "Dad, could you just help me by writing down the words on a skinny piece of paper I can keep in my pocket so I can remember them better? I want to share Jesus with my friends and if you could write that down it would help me remember."

"Sure, buddy. I can do that."

We got home, ate a quick dinner, and headed for his room to do our devotional time and pray. We do that every night that I am home. During our time of prayer, I mentioned Jeremiah's friends to the Lord, and asked Him to give Jeremiah the right words and the right opportunity. At that point, Jeremiah hid his face. His posture indicated that he was crying...

So I asked, "What's wrong, Jeremiah?"

He just buried his face in his pillow, obviously embarrassed that he was crying.

"It's okay to cry for your friends, son. As a matter of fact, it's a very good thing that you are crying for your friends," I whispered as I scooped him up in my arms. He was in his boxer-briefs with Spiderman on them, tightly gripping his stuffed dog, Scruffy. "I wish more people would weep for their lost friends."

"I want them to know Jesus," he sobbed in response.

I took his little chin in my hand and gently turned his head until our eyes met. He quickly wiped the tears away as he did that little "stutter breath" that children do when they are crying. As he looked me square in the eye, I again whispered to him, "I am proud of you. We all should be moved for our friends like you are. God has laid your friends on your heart for a reason."

"I know," he quivered. "And I am going to share Jesus with them tomorrow."

He said his prayer, and on this night, he included his lost friends by name, asking Jesus to help them be saved. As he said, "Amen," I tucked him in, bent over and kissed him on the forehead, and whispered, "I'm proud of you. I love you. Thank you for inspiring me."

"I love you, too, Daddy. You're welcome."

Big things come in little packages.

The next morning, yesterday morning, he reminded me that he needed me to write out a prayer for him to use when he talks to his friends about Jesus. "I want to make sure I know how to help them pray," he added to his reminder. So, I wrote out the prayer that he and Cayla had prayed. I wrote it in bite-sized phrases so that Jeremiah could have them "repeat after him," as he put it. And off to school he went.

All day yesterday I anxiously awaited a phone call from the school telling me that Jeremiah was in trouble for what he'd gone to do that day. I could just imagine it, "Mr. Bishop. You can not send Jeremiah to school with a prayer in his pocket trying to save his friends. It's just not appropriate." It never came.

Caryn and I picked them up at 3 that afternoon, and took them to the Mall for a soda and a pretzel. As we sat and ate our pretzels, I asked Jeremiah how it had gone at school that day. He immediately perked up.

"It went GREAT! Brian and Rick repeated after me and became Christians today."

"Really?" I asked. "How did you get to that point?"

"Oh, that was easy. I just asked them if they wanted to become Christians and give their life to Jesus. They both said yes, so I led them in the prayer you wrote for me. Rick was really excited afterward! It was cool."

And now it was my turn to weep. He really gets it, even more so than I do. It really is easy. Really. I pictured the whole conversation in my mind: Three little boys sitting at lunch, Jeremiah leading them as they pray. And I was deeply moved as I realized that Jeremiah, at age 7, had just done more for the kingdom than some people will do in their lifetime. He had just led more people to Christ than 90% of "Christians" will in their time here on earth. And I was overwhelmed by it and grateful. God has blessed us with GREAT kids. We don't deserve them. If anything, I deserve what I heard my mom say OVER AND OVER again when I was a kid..."I hope your kids treat you like this."

Today, Jeremiah will be talking with some more friends about Jesus. And he is going to talk to Brian and Rick about getting together and reading the Bible at recess once a week or something to that end.

"What if they don't have Bibles, Dad? Can we get them one?"

"Yes, bud. We can get them Bibles if they need them."

He knows that he is supposed to be spreading God's Word. He gets the fact that means he is to share with the lost and teach the found. And he's doing both. Pray for my little barbarian as he and his hordes begin to overrun the school! Revival is coming. A great big revival is coming and it's packaged in tiny little boys and girls who are going to one day save the universe!
Peace

The Conversation

I realized something the other day. I was filling out a short bio sheet about myself and it asked about my hobbies and interests. I listed Tae Kwon Do, Paintball, hockey, reading, music, and a few other things. Then I paused...I do all of those things, and look forward to them, but it didn't really capture the essence of what I am about. That's the point of the question, right? It's supposed to give people a feel for the "color" of your life. So I really got to thinking about what get's me most excited. What is it that I immediately call home to talk to Caryn about? I discovered my real hobby; it's conversations. I love to talk to people. Whether it's over coffee, lunch, or during tae kwon do, it's a lot more fun when you have someone to talk to while you eat or play. It's a lot more engaging to read if you will have someone to talk to about what you read. Sure, these are some of the activities I enjoy, but the one I enjoy the most (and have for years) just popped up and slapped me in the face! How could I miss it? I love to talk to people. If you ever need to talk, give me a call. I truly would love to talk to you!

Why Can't We See It?

I put together a Prayer Labyrinth for our local faith community and it opened last night. I did it for our students, but it is such work that I thought that I would open it to the community at large for the next 3 days. Last night we had 48 teens and adults use the labyrinth. Tonight we will have another 20 or so adults use it. Almost to a person, everyone comes out and talks about how awesome an experience it is. They feel "closer to God," or "at peace," or "like I really worshipped." It happens all the time: a special event that people look forward to and they encounter God; touching them in a meaningful way.

But from here, they will go back to doing things the way they always have. You know what I mean? It's like the "after youth camp" experience. Tears, movement, devotion, promises of change, deeper appreciation for God. Then a couple weeks later...same old same old. Is the answer to have more camps or more labyrinths or more special events more often? I hope not because I won't survive that! But why can't we see the commonalities in these events that make them so special for us? Why can't we build those commonalities into our daily lives so that a deep worship experience is the norm? Should it be the norm? One of my teenagers hung back after finishing the labyrinth experience. He said it was AWESOME! I asked him, "What made it awesome?" He replied, "It was great to slow down and linger on a thought. It was nice to have quiet and time to think."
"Why can't you do that every day?" I chided back. And that's when it clicked for him.
"I guess I can."
"And should," I added. Don't wait for someone else to set the table. Pull up a chair to God's table. Deep meaningful worship of Him on a regular and ongoing basis should be an everyday part of your diet.

Ahhh, typing with two hands again...

Howdy everyone! I've been away for a bit...Anniversary and Christmas travels plus day-after-Christmas shoulder surgery. Anyway, Caryn and I went to Las Vegas for our 12th anniversary. Then we went to Arlington for a whirl-wind Christmas present drop off; 700 miles in 24 hours.

10 days ago I had the Labrum (cartlidge that lines my shoulder socket) reattached to my should socket. I have these cool metal tacks in my shoulder that the cartilage will grow over at some point. In the mean time I have this AWESOME immobilizing sling called "The UltraSling II." It's sleek, black, and I have to turn sideways to walk thru doors. Rehab is NO FUN! 3 days a week for the next 4 weeks I get worked over for an hour. Doc says 3 months until I can lift anything light, and 6 months until I'm normal again. I'm putting my best Terrel Owens "quick healing" efforts into it, though, and am already a week ahead!

I've got some things on my mind I want to write about but my mind has been on Codine for 2 weeks, so once I get the purple dragons out of my mind I will update here!

Peace!

The Cost Of Being A Mystic Warrior

While recently connecting with other mystics and searching for those who blaze the trail in pursuit of the mission, I had one of the most moving encounters of my life. I was visiting a communist county in Asia, and went to visit the local "government sponsored" faith community in a city of well over 1 million people. Now, this community is a bit different than most government sponsored "clubs," as true warriors have infiltrated the leadership, and they are using their governmental seal of approval to advance the cause. As we went to the building where this community met, we encountered a lady sitting outside the gate. She looked like most of the other local people, but as we passed, she whispered, "Shang di bao ni," or "Most High God bless you." Needless to say, it was a shock for me to be greeted like that by a local person. She approached us and began to talk to us. She offered to take us into the meeting place for the local faith community. Once inside, she served us cups of hot water (it was very cold outside where she'd been sitting) and she began to tell her story. My American hosts are very good at Chinese, but they had a hard time following her story. So, at first I thought she might be mentally unstable, or even demon possessed as she become seemingly more and more agitated. As she told her story, she began to weep. Being Maygoren (from America), I had no idea what was going on. I understood nothing of what she was saying. After she left, my hosts began talking about what was going on, and what the lady had shared. It seems that she is not mentally ill or demonic. She is grieving. As best they could tell, either her husband or her son had been a follower of Yeshua. At some point, the local government had come and taken her significant person away at gun point and she hadn't seen them since. Her agitation was a soul wrenching expression of her pain. We met her again on the steps of the building as we were leaving. She had a copy of The BOOK, both parts (which is hard to get in this country). With outstretched arms, she gave it to my friends. I'm still not exactly sure why. I read into it that she wanted them to be able to give it to someone else who needs Father's Story in their heart language; a tribute to the work of a loved one taken by the government.

I always seem to come home with more of a culture shock than I leave with. What would the Faith Community in the West look like with that kind of passion? I'm not saying that there aren't people here with that passion or that wouldn't make the same sacrifice. I do think they exist here and are almost as rare as this woman is to her country. And that's a shame since there are so many more of "us" here. This lady reminded me that there is a cost to save the world. There is a cost to serve our Master, and many pay that cost every day around our world. What does it cost me? I recently read that 480 Yeshua people are killed every day for their belief, and for sharing that belief with others. We may one day pay that price, too, but not today. Will you join this lady in sharing no matter what the cost? She has been a milestone for me on my journey. May our Father bless her and multiply people like her in that closed country. And I hope He reminds us everyday that we are not our own and that we have been bought for Him at a high price. We are for His service.

The Mystics

In my travels in the east, we were led to a group of people in search of the mystics, also. 6 decided to join the search and join the mission. They let the world know of their decision by going swimming, as it is commonly called in their culture. Now they are searching for others who need to know. Bring them up in your conversations with Dad. The family is bigger and the mystics are growing in numbers daily.

(BTW - i know the person is faceless. that's because his involvement could cost him his family, freedom, and life. His boldness puts me to shame for fearing the rejection of men.)

The Mystic

My search for the mystic will be taking me to Beijing this week. I'll post from there. I will be unable to be reached until after Thanksgiving.
Peace

Awards

We just got in from Ft. Worth, where Jeremiah took 2nd place in his bracket at the largest Tae Kwon Do tournament in North America. He had an absolutely phenominal time, and has worn his silver medal everywhere! I'll post pictures when I get them off of the camera.

On another note, you may remember my post some time back about making a Freebird's commercial. Here's an excerpt from their monthly newsletter that I just received:

"Award Winnings Ads 2nd Year in a Row It's all about you! - Nation's Restaurant News likes Freebirds Fanatics almost as much as we do. Last year they gave us an award for the Kate and Rita ad. We won again! This year the ad was about Jason, a long-time Freebirds fanatic and two of his buddies that camped out on the sidewalk in front of the Lubbock store the night before it opened in order to be that store's first customers. First of all, we may win awards because of our unconventional ad campaigns, but you are the reason for wins. It's your fanaticisms that are remarkable. We're simply the carriers of the message. So - our hats off to you, our loyal customers, for coming up with such antics that when copied and depicted in foil characters they become inspiring and award winning. You are all winners to us!"

RIGHT ON, Freebird's. Right on...

What would you do?

Today started in a really rocky way. I'm actually at a conference in Grapevine (near Dallas) at the moment. I flew into Love Field this morning amidst a HORRIBLE thunder storm. As we approached for our landing, we hit turbulence unlike any I had experienced before. In fact, it was so bad that the pilot actually climbed to try his approach again, only to realize it wasn't any better with our second pass. After making an announcement to the Flight Attendants that they should stay seated unless it's an absolute emergency, he smashed us down onto the runway, plunging through the storm and to the tarmac. It was one of those moments where the plane was eerily silent (except for the lady next to me whose nervous chatter nearly drove me insane). I had slept most of the trip, but the turbulence woke me up in a hurry and I began to pray. It was simple at first. "Jesus, I may be hanging out with you sooner than I thought." was where it started. It quickly turned to, "Should I start asking the people around me if they are ready to meet Jesus?" It was a real dilemma for me since I didn't want to cause a panic, but at the same time, I really wasn't sure that we'd actually "stick the landing." About the time I decided I should wake the Tech student next to me to ask him how his eternity looked, I saw the runway out his window and we were down. Relieved, I sighed a collective sigh with all the other passengers. As I look back over the whole debacle, I wonder if I missed an opportunity or if I did the right thing. What would you do? No, really, I'd like to know; what would you have done if you had been me? I do know that I have a greater appreciation for life as I write this. I also have a greater appreciation for the shortness of life and the urgency of reaching the lost. There's a lot of work to be done in Lubbock and around the world. And none of us know how much time we have left. So let's get busy.

Two Guys Who Shouldn't Sit Together

This is a legit picture. These guys should really rethink sitting together. It's almost like one guy's shirt saying, "I'm with stupid," and the other guy's shirt saying, "Stupid."

Join My Ninja Army

Are you on facebook? If so, click here and join my evil ninja army!

A Confession, of sorts (notice the tongue in cheek)

Okay. I have a confession to make. It's a moment that I realized I have a deep dark part of me that surfaces daily. But I must tell the whole story so you get a sense of my depravity...please read with great understanding as I bear my soul.
Here we go. As many of you know, I ride a motorcycle as my primary means of transportation. I ride a 2001 Harley Davidson Electra Glide Standard with Thunder Headers and Thunder head pipes. It's not just loud, it's a deep throaty loud that every bike should sound like. There have been times when I've started "Harley" and the sound has caused women to scream from being startled and children began weeping, covering their ears, and running. It's so loud and deep that as I rode to the "office" one day, my wife was at the bank drive-thru (around behind the building) and she heard me ride by.
Anyway, I digress. My schedule is as such that it's usually mid to late dinner time before I head home in the evenings. And some nights it's later. And my usual traffic pattern is to ride by a restaurant that is in my neighborhood. It turns out there is an employee of that restaurant that has a white Ford Mustang with an alarm that is sensitive enough that my bike will set it off. It has become a daily event for me to see if I can set that alarm off with my bike. As I ride by it, I drop a gear and accelerate until I see the Mustang's headlights start flashing (since I can't hear the alarm because of the bike). It's a regular part of my day to set that alarm off. Well, last Friday, as I watched the lights flashing and imagined the horn honking, this evil laugh escaped my lips..."Mwuaah hahahaa!" Then it occured to me: what if the kid who owns that Mustang thinks there is something wrong with his alarm and keeps taking it in to get it worked on? What if he thinks that someone in our neighborhood keeps trying to break into his car at work? What if he thinks his alarm doesn't work and quits setting it? All because I enjoy setting it off...Does it make me evil if I enjoy, nay seek out, setting this alarm off daily? What do you think?
Well, there it is. My dark secret is out. If any of you know where I could find help for this devious addiction, please let me know.

My Little Dare Devil

"My little Dare Devil" When I say this, you probably think of the boy child, but it's not! Last night, Cayla, Jeremiah, and I went to our local amusement park for a school-wide event. Now, our kids think Joyland is a lot like Six Flags, but it's not. It's actually like a permanent traveling carnival. And most of the time, our kids want to ride the little boats that go in circles, or the little cars that go in circles, or the little planes that go in circles (you see a pattern here?). Well, last night I almost "tossed my cookies" riding the big rides with Cayla. She couldn't get enough! Jeremiah had met up with some of his friends and was riding rides he normally wouldn't ride. But the peer pressure begins early, and he went with the guys!
Cayla, however, spent most of her time riding with me, running from big ride to big ride, unable to get enough. She rode the big rollercoaster 3 times, the tilt-a-whirl twice, the Octopus, and several other lose your lunch kinda rides. There were some great moments that stood out to me as she and I rode together. Both times included me looking at her with her face in the wind and hair blowing back. She had this look of enraptured delight as she squealed with glee! The one moments that typified the night happened on this ride that we call "The Umbrella Ride." It's a ride that goes in a circle, but the circle is at a 45 degree angle to the ground, so it goes from ground level to about 35 feet in the air. And, although it's going in a circle, it's at a HIGH rate of speed so you feel like you are launching into space with each pass. Imagine a ferris wheel on steroids and leaning severly and you will have a pretty good picture. She was sitting on my right, with her legs extended into space, hair blowing straight back, and her eyes squinting. We were on the downside of the circle when I began to watch her to make sure she was having fun. As we bottomed out and started the upswing, her mouth curled into this elated smile and a squeal came out as she leaned her head back just a little. I'm sure she was imagining flying. I, too, was lost in the moment. But my joy came in seeing my little girl enthralled by the experience. As the ride began to slow, she looked at me and said, "Again!" I told her there were many more rides, and if we had time we would come back As the ride stopped, she looked at the attendant, an older man probably in his mid 60's, and told him, "Thank you." Then she took off running for the next near death experience. As we went back to The Galaxy, the big rollercoaster, she looked at me and said, "Thanks for cancelling your trip to come to Joyland with me." I was supposed to be meeting some friends to talk church planting and spend some time dreaming, planning, and being encouraged. I had actually told the kids we couldn't got to Joyland because I had to be out of town and Caryn had rehearsal. They were upset, but had been gracious to me since we were going to schedule something special later. Circumstances began to pile up on me yesterday morning, though, and my trip had to be cancelled because there was much to do here. Little did I know that Cayla would have such a good time. And I would have never guessed that she would understand enough to be grateful for cancelling the trip.
"My Little Dare Devil" was why my trip needed to be cancelled. And, because of last night, I see her in a different light. Usually the last to try new things, she really surprised me. I learned I have to help her see the upside to the new things, and not just ask her to do them. I can really see her heading into the dark world to make a difference for the Kingdom, hair blowing in the wind, mouth curled in a slight smile, and squealing all the way as she launches into the adventures of life. I also learned that I can slow down and enjoy the ride and not be so ready to rush off to the next thing. Some rides should be enjoyed twice! I'm glad I stayed home.

My Own Theme Music

Du du da du da du...Sing it with me...
So maybe having a radio on Harley isn't the greatest idea...or it's the coolest thing ever. I have a habit of tuning into the classic rock station here every now and then to see what's on. I love the old Boston, Kansas, Rush, etc.
Well, twice this week "Bad To The Bone" by George Thuroughgood and the Destroyers came on while I was riding. On a big black Harley, when that song comes on, it's like having your own theme music. You slow down a little bit, settle into your seat a little deeper, and just know that you are who he's singing about!
Of course, the converse is true, too. Just after that, Sammy Hagar's "I Can't Drive 55" came on...and the next thing I knew I was zipping through traffic to the pace of the song...

The Work Of God

"Then they asked him, 'What must we do to do the works God requires?' Jesus answered, 'The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent.' So they asked him, 'What miraculous sign then will you give that we may see it and believe you? What will you do? Our forefathers ate the manna in the desert; as it is written: 'He gave them bread from heaven to eat.' Jesus said to them, 'I tell you the truth, it is not Moses who has given you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.'" - John 6: 28-33
The generations before us had a reputation for hard work. Our grandparents, for the most part, were known for their "pick yourself up by your boot straps" mentality and work ethic. Such is their reputation, that their generation was named "The Builder Generation." It's an attitude that permeates our American culture. When it comes to social justice, benevolence, or welfare, most USAmericans believe that you get what you earn. And we, like them, often times shift into "make it happen mode," knowing that God helps those who help themselves (that's not Scriptural thinking, though). I know that I find myself in that mindset often: If I am going to succeed or survive, I've got to do more and do better. I awoke this morning amazed at the fact that I have a house to live in, and took a certain amount of pride in the fact that I make my house payments and I am a provider. I actually earn enough money to provide a house, utilities, clothing, food, cars, etc. for my family. And it feels good. Then, during my quiet time, I came to this passage. Isn't it funny how often the Bible speaks to us in a relevant and timely fashion? In my morning of triumphant thinking, God brings His Word to my mind to remind me that I do not really provide for my family. It's Him who provides. The Jews of Jesus' day were guilty of similar thinking. They had given credited Moses for their provision instead of God. And now they were asking Jesus to provide for them like Moses so they would know He was from God. As always, Jesus' response is prolific: I am your provision. Initially, they ask Jesus what work they must be doing to be in good standing with God. He tells them that God's work is to believe in the one He has sent. So they tell Him, "If God sent you, provide for us." And Jesus reveals His nature to them as the provision they are seeking. That ought to be comforting, wouldn't you think? But, by the time this dialogue is over, Jesus has offended everyone and only His 12 remain. Does the thought that it's all up to Jesus offend you? Your gut reaction may be an emphatic "NO!" But think about it this way: do you really, truly, honestly trust Him and look to Him as your provision? If the answer to that is an emphatic "NO!" then maybe there's some work to be done; the work of believing in the One God sent to be your provision. In the midst of hard times, struggles, and turmoil, where do you look? Are you looking for a miracle? Are you trying to figure out how you could work harder to make things happen? Or do you look to the One who is your provision and trust Him to provide? Easy words to say, hard words to do. But necessary, none the less. Remember the words of Solomon, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Do not depend on your own understanding. In all your ways remember Him. Then He will make your paths smooth and straight." (Prov. 3:5-6 NIRV)

Speaking of Big Catfish

My friend, Madd Matt, sent me these pictures taken at Lake Conroe near Houston. This catfish is slightly smaller than the one that produced the skeleton in my last post! Yes, that's an inflated basketball in his mouth.

One BIG Catfish

Here's a picture of Jeremiah, who is just over 4' tall along side a catfish skeleton that is just over 4' long! Pretty huge. I read about a catfish that was just over 4' long and it weighed over 150 lbs. The fisherman trying to catch it was drug out of the boat to his death! 150 lbs. is a big fish.

Much Needed Vacation

Why does driving make you so tired? We spent about 7 hours driving yesterday to see Caryn's parents and hang out with some of our friends at Mosaic Arlington. And, for some reason, sitting in a car for that amount of time wiped me out.
Caryn's parents (Jim and Peggy Kean) are the park attendants at a state camp site. It's a primitive camping only facility, so it's not very busy in the heat of August. The humidity here is stifling. I know we grew up here, but how did we ever breath with all the water in the air? The Kean's have a 40' fifth-wheel trailer that is very nice, and sits within 100 yards of Lake Lavon. It makes for a great view, but the humidity is off the chart. We just got back from playing in the huge "sand box" (which is really a net less sand volleyball court), and Pawpaw is hosing the kids off outside. I can hear them squealing outside.
It's good to get away from home on a non-business related trip. I traveled a lot the last 6 months, but almost all of it was for ministry. So a trip like this offers the chance to not think about what's waiting at home.
Tonight we will get to spend some time with fellows church planters/pastors from Mosaic Arlington. We'll swim, cook out, and just catch up on life. And then, tomorrow, we'll get some of the best catfish in the world as we trek back to Lubbock. We really ought to do this more. I realized yesterday that my kids are growing up. Hahahaha, they just walked in from "showering" outside. They are running through the trailer naked and just giggling. Anyway, I was looking at Jeremiah's face yesterday and he has changed in the last week. He's growing up and even looks different. Our time with them will be gone before we know it. I am amazed that I spend so much time thinking about work (which will always be there and always need to be done) and not enough time with family. I'm going to make it a goal to take a family trip once a quarter, and to keep our weekly Family night sacred. After all, it does no good to reach the world and lose your family! If you ever need a place to get away to, come see us in Lubbock! We'd love to see ya!Peace, Jase.