Its been one of those days.  Tonight I’m writing here out of desperation.  I don’t know what else to do.  I’m alone in the house tonight, well kind of.  The wife is on a retreat and the daughter is asleep, so is the dog.  Its quiet and lonely here tonight.  I was doing some Internet surfing to pass the time when I remembered a blog I read several days ago.  Its one of two blogs I read on a regular basis and its been a great source of inspiration, truth, and encouragement for me.  The post I’m referring to is about pornography.  Now, porn isn’t something I struggle with.  I’m into almost porn.  I guess its not really porn at all, unless you call googling Jessica Biel (with safe search mode on) porn.  Its not about that either, really.  I only go the Jessica Biel rout after I’ve read all the blogs I find interesting and I’m out of good aviation sites.  So, I’ve been all over the Internet tonight and I had just gotten “Jessica” typed in the search window when I remembered his blog.  He says something in him or in God, in these moments, asks, “what are you looking for?”  It came to me clear tonight.  What am I looking for?

I’m not sure.  The guy with the blog talks about finding beauty and struggling to feel.  I think both of those things are true for me, but to lesser degrees.  I think we are all moved by beauty.  Its a large part of why I love everything I love: my wife and daughter, both beautiful.  Flying presents a different kind of beauty, but I definitely find it there too.  I don’t think I have a real problem feeling, I feel plenty.  Its the timing I have a problem with.  I never know what’s caused the emotions I’m having.  There seems to be some sort of delay.  I may have a faulty relay somewhere.  No, for me there’s something else.  Some part of God I’m not connecting with or don’t understand.  There is some truth I’m missing.

I saw someone I went to church with a long time ago in the mall tonight.  It was so strange.  I have really fond memories of her when we were kids.  I remember us as children, but she was not what I remember.  She’s a woman now.  We are grown.  She is doing so many amazing things.  She has just gotten back from doing ministry in New Orleans and soon will be off to Africa to minister there.  I’ve been kind of keeping track of her on facebook, but running into her tonight forced me to see that we are not what I remember.  We are different.  Things have changed.

I hate change.  I really do.  That may be because I haven’t yet found change I can believe in.  I think I’m looking in the wrong place.  I think a lot of people are.  Here’s what I think it is for me:  I change, grow, learn, stumble, adapt – God does not.  That seems weird to me. I know God is constant – unwavering – a rock.  God does not change. We are created in his image.  Why, then, does change seem so constant in my life?  I don’t think I’m searching for beauty, I have that.  I’m not looking to feel, I do that.  I’m looking for a constant I can relate to.  Blogs are always interesting – planes are always cool – Jessica Biel is always hot.  See, I don’t find myself looking for new blogs, planes or pictures, I go to the same ones over and over.  I’m looking for a constant that I can understand – connect with.  God is way to big to understand the way I want.  I know right now I’ll never learn all there is to know about God.  The finite will never be able to grasp the infinite.

This is off topic a little, but I really miss my dad tonight.  I think its because I just go my pilot’s license and he would understand what that means.  He had been down this road and it would be nice to be able to get his advice.  I miss him constantly, but in these moments it gets worse.  Normally the thought or memory of him is like a shadow in the back of my mind.  The problem with these moments of triumph and joy is they bring light to the dark places of my mind and heart.  The problem with light is that it defines and sharpens the shadows.  Kind of makes them easier to see.  Its on the best days, not the worst, that I miss him the most.

So, given recent events I’m sure you’ve seen or heard references to Romans 13.  I read it again tonight and it wasn’t the whole “submit to authority” part that got me. I prefer the end of the chapter.

And do this, understanding the present time. The hour has come for you to wake up from your slumber, because our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed. 12The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So… clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ

The night is nearly over.  I’ve been waiting on that.  I may never fully understand how God can be constant while moving forward, but I’m confident in the plan.  We are moving from sleep into conciseness – forward toward our salvation.  The change will be from night into day.  The dawn is approaching.  That is change I can believe in.

Tonight I took my wife flying. I got my license yesterday and today it became obvious all the work I put in was worth it. I can’t tell you how amazing it was being up there with her. It just felt right. It seems writing and flying do about the same thing for me – I like flying much better. The world seems so quiet from up there, everything kind of fades a little. Down here I find comfort in words and stories – up there its in space and distance. I don’t know how to describe it really, but I feel better connected to myself. I feel like a bit of a bad-ass and yet somehow humbled. I feel accomplished and small. I feel like man and a child. I know that sounds really cheesy and I’m sorry, I just don’t know how else to describe it. Its the same basic feeling I had the day I got married and day my daughter way born. I think its the feeling of being in a moment you know you were specifically created for. I was supposed to marry my wife, I am the father God chose for my daughter, and flying is clearly what I’m supposed to do. Its ridiculous to compare flying to those things, and obviously its not in the same league, I just don’t know of anything else to compare it to.

At church last week we had one of those “keep your chin up” kinds of services. I know they’re necessary right now, people are freaking out. I’m not. I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing, its the first time in my life I’ve been even remotely sure of that (aside from moments previously mentioned). Anyway, the message was about a really dark time in Israel’s history. They had been under siege for so long they were basically living in a sewer, oh, and all they had to eat was each other. So their army ran away and their king had his eyes put out and his sons killed and then their city was burned and they were made into slaves. It was a rough couple of years. So they find themselves slaves in some Godforsaken foreign land and throw in the towel. They hang their harps in poplar trees and refuse to sing songs to or about God. I sort of know how they feel, hell, I’ve been there. Hung my harp right up in some stupid tree and walked away. So I’m sitting there in the service thinking it sounds about right. I mean, what would you do in a situation like that? I know what I do, I quit.

About this point I start getting real uncomfortable, not because the message is getting to me but because I begin to see what they plan on doing with that huge tree they’ve got sitting on stage. They plan on making me walk up there and in front of everybody take a little paper harp off the tree and promise never to put it up there again. I hate that crap, I really do. We all know no one takes that seriously. Its peer pressure. Its like when everybody at that made for TV church down the street stands up at the same point in the final worship performance (usually coincides with the climax of the song and a spectacular light show). We all know few of those people are actually moved by the song, I’d bet most of them are so busy thinking about lunch they don’t even realize they’ve stood up. Its mob mentality. You can’t force people to make a decision with peer pressure – you can’t make me so uncomfortable I have to act. I will not make a decision for Christ because everyone is watching and I’m embarrassed not to or because the really spiritual people are doing it. Its not real that way. That being said, there is a pair of jeans in my floor right now with a little paper harp in the back pocket.

Here’s the thing, this time I was one of the few. It was real for me. I don’t want you to think I wrestled with it and came to a decision. God was very clear in that moment that this decision was not mine to make. I’ve just recently gotten my harp down, I don’t get to put it back. I got angry and quit once before. The question now becomes; did I learn my lesson? I think I did. I know where that road leads. I’m not exactly on fire in my spiritual life right now. In fact, things are pretty quite on the God front. Its been quiet before, but this is different. I know where I’m going now. I’ve been a quitter before; I quit teams, I quit school, I quit jobs, relationships, and church. I quit on myself and on God. Somewhere in those stupid paper harps God reminded me that I’m not that guy anymore. I’m on the other side now. I’ve come to far to ever quit again.

Tonight I got to feel what it was like to finally succeed. I didn’t have a senior season (in college)- I don’t have a diploma. Tonight was the first time in a long time, if not ever, that I achieved something I set out for. Tonight I learned what it feels like to succeed. It changes everything.

I think the decisions I’ve made in the past will affect my relationship with God for a long time. I don’t think of him the same way and he doesn’t deal with me the same way. I think this is how our relationship is going to be; times of intense passion and growth followed by deafening silence and searching. Tonight, in the quiet distance of 6000 feet, I was reminded of what it will take to find success in my spiritual life. I have no choice, throwing in the towel is not an option. I will continue to sing, continue to play, and continue to wait.

Lead me back to the canyon;

Show the waters deep,

You know the healing begins in the Canyon

Let it be the portion of earth beneath my Feet.

Jesus, be the portion of earth beneath my feet.

-Ed Cash

Ed is referring to a rafting trip he took through the Grand Canyon and the way he experienced God in that place. Every time I hear this song I think of my places – places that have been beneath my feet at times when I have really experienced God. Loveland Mountain in Colorado where I discovered God’s awesome creative power and beauty. The Beaches of Ocho Rios, Jamaica and Myrtle Beach, South Carolina where I first played in the ocean with my wife on our honeymoon and my daughter on our first family vacation. There is a barren mountain top in Peru where I found a heart for the oppressed, the poor, and the hungry. There are lakes, hunting leases, and back porches where my father became my friend. There’s an overlook in Lenior City where I’ve left so many unanswered questions, and lonely roads through the Smokies where I’ve found so many answers. These are places that are special to me, places that feel Holy. Sometimes I think that if I ever get to visit some of these places again I may not be able to resist the urge to take my shoes off. These are the locations of my burning bush, places my heart has built alters. Tonight when I heard this song none of these places came to mind.

I’ve often given the church a hard time. I’ve been pretty upset with the church in general for quite some time now. That’s beginning to change. In small group this week we talked about the great commission. The topic of people being hurt by the church was brought up. It got me talking about this guy I know that I generally feel is horrible at telling people about his faith. He does it often, and I respect that, but the way he does it bothers me. It turns a lot of people off. You can see people’s eyes glaze over and feel the energy drain from the room when he starts talking about Christianity. I’ve always wanted to avoid being associated with or compared to him. I want to say, “I’m not like that. That’s not me.” The problem that I’m starting to see with that is that in the only way that matters I am like him – he is me. We are brothers. Part of the same body.

I learned this lesson for the first time several years ago. I was going through a rough patch and so I starting acting like a real ass. I said some really mean things to people that I really love. One night on the way home from dinner my wife was getting on me about it and I told her that I didn’t see what it had to do with her. She informed me that if I kept acting like a jerk no one was going to want to hang out with us anymore. She said that if people quit wanting me around she would end up stuck at home with me all the time and never get to see her friends. It turns out no one is going to call my wife and ask her to come hang out and insist that she leave her jerk husband at home. We are so closely connected that you can’t take one and leave the other. You get both or neither.

I’ve been guilty of asking people to do that with the church. I don’t think it can work that way. It doesn’t do any good to say to someone that has been hurt by the church, “well, that church sucks. We aren’t like that. It won’t happen to you here.” That’s a lie. We are like that. It probably will happen to you here. We cannot separate ourselves from the body of which we are a part. It wouldn’t do my wife any good to say, “sorry my husband’s a moron, but I’m really nice and will make a good friend.” People will reject her for her association with me, no way around it. I think in that situation she did the only thing you can do. She had a difficult, honest, and (until now) private conversation with me and I’m betting she prayed real hard and real consistently that I would get my act together. I’m now convinced that’s the way the church should handle its differences.

I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, but it wasn’t clear to me why until I heard Canyon tonight. I’ve always know that I’m a person of extremes. I’m either hot or cold. On or off. Lately I’ve been off. For some reason I starting reading over my blog again today and it was a great reminder of where I’ve been, who I am, and the way God has moved in my life. I also noticed something else – I either write a lot or not at all. God is either the most important thing I my life or I shut him out all together. Tonight as I began again to wrestle with my relationship with God all these passages of scripture, old testament stories, and parables began running through my mind, it was like a snapshot of who God is and what he wants from and for me. It was me revisiting my foundation. Reconnecting with a truth so deeply buried in my heart that no amount of abuse from the world will ever be able to shake it loose.

Tonight as I listened to that familiar song it wasn’t mountains and beaches my heart retreated to, it was Sunday School rooms and AWANA classes. It turns out the church I so often criticize and try to distance myself from was, is and always will be my foundation. It is the portion of earth beneath my feet.

Open the door and run outside

Your little boy heart alive

Into the morning light

Into the deep and wide

Feel the beat of a distant thunder

It’s the sound of an ancient song

This is the Kingdom calling

Come now and tread the dawn

Come to the father

Come to the deeper well

Drink of the water

And come to live a tale to tell

Pages are turning now

This is abundant life

The joy in the journey

Is enough to make a grown man cry

With a little boy heart alive

Take a ride on the mighty lion

Take a hold of the golden mane

This is the love of Jesus

So good but it is not tame

Ever the road goes on and on

Ever the road goes on and on and on

-Andrew Peterson

I’ve felt really run down lately. Starting to feel old – In a lot of ways I’m starting to be old. I think maybe I’m a little bored. I’m not sure why that is, I think it may have something to do with my job. I’m not a big fan of it right now. I’m thankful to have it, but its wearing me out a little. Things aren’t going as smoothly now as they have in the past. Things are tight, its hard to sell anything right now. Last year was a great year and that’s killing me this year. I never used to miss my goals but I’ve been missing bad lately. The thing that’s frustrating is that I’m working harder than I did last year. I bet my managers doubt that, but I am. I’m working harder and making less money. That sucks. What really sucks is I get the feeling people at work think I’m slacking off or don’t care. Not true, but I can see how they would think that. I really think it has very little to do with anyone else in the office, it’s hard for me to go in there everyday knowing I’m failing. It sounds dramatic to me to say failing but that’s what it is. I hate failing.

So that’s where I was when I heard this Andrew Peterson song today. Old. Tired. Bored. Unsuccessful. It sucks to be any one of those things but to be all four at once makes it really difficult to not throw in the towel. I was driving around trying to find the energy to make the next call when I heard Little Boy Heart Alive on the Ipod. It’s not a song I listen to often. I don’t have it memorized. I loved it today. I love it for its references to The Chronicles of Narnia (The Dawn Treader book is my favorite and the part about the lion not being tame is about the best part in the whole series). There is so much in this song I would love to spend time with (distant thunder, ancient song, kingdom calling, tale to tell just to name a few) but I think more importantly for me today is why it moved me the way it did.

I think it reminded me of the life I should be living – a life I lost touch with. It’s the life I’ve been designed to live. I was beginning to get all John Eldridge thinking what I needed was a little adventure. You know climb a mountain, shoot an Elk kind of stuff. The thing is that’s not really the way I live. I mean I go hiking like once every five years or so (I do still live in East Tennessee) but it’s not like I can do that all the time. Besides that crap’s exhausting to. I didn’t stay with the Wild at Heart stuff long (I love and recommend that book). It occurred to me that I’m doing the man thing just fine. No, its not being a real man that I forget how to do. It’s being a boy. I forget how to play – what it is to play. I’m Captain Hook.

I started to get really depressed about it. I can’t pretend. I literally have no imagination left. What this song helped me do today was connect those feelings of play I experienced as a boy with what I get to do as a man. I began to remember all the things I do that feel like play. I fly an airplane like three times a week. What little boy doesn’t dream about that, I sure did. I promise taking off in a real airplane makes you want to laugh in a way throwing a paper one never could. Just last week I played in the ocean with my best friend (who also happens to be my wife). Several months ago I ran through Dollywood, that’s right, Dollywood, and rode roller coasters in the rain. I run in the yard with my dog. I play peek-a-boo, with my 11 month old daughter, but still it’s peek-a-boo. Can’t play that without either feeling like a kid or a moron.

I am designed to play. Play is one of the few things we didn’t have to be taught to do. If we take time to remember we all know how. In the busyness that is our lives we get bogged down in responsibility and concern. We worry and work and struggle. We forget to play. Today I was reminded that I can and should still play – that my little boy heart is still alive.

I haven’t written anything in a while and I’m ready to go again, I think. The problem is that this has become exhausting. Blogging creates problems. People get angry about stuff written on these things. I knew that stuff written on here could be read by anybody and I knew I would have to be a little careful not to offend, but I’m tired of that. I keep waiting for the day someone takes something I say the wrong way and it becomes my turn to apologize. This is me saying that I’m not going to. I’m going to be careful to make sure everything I say here is as honest and I can make it and true to the best of my knowledge. I will not be reckless or mean but I’m not going to make excuses or apologies either.

I feel like there are people out there just waiting for me to mess up. People who read these things looking for something to disagree with. I’m here to tell you it won’t take long to catch me making mistakes. I have been, am, and will continue to be a screw up. I will let you down. I sometimes suck. If the only reason you come here is to find a way to criticize I am officially revoking your invitation to read my blog. If your constantly being negative, stop it. Just stop it. Its exhausting.

Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery’s shadow or reflection: the fact that you don’t merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief. -C.S. Lewis-

Tonight was slow. I’ve said, and thought lately, that God often causes pain or hurt in order to slow things down and get our attention. Tonight things slowed down for me again. I told someone once that I think the two ways Satan gains influence in our lives are with God’s permission and with ours. Tonight I gave him an in and he took it.

I’m not sure how it happens.  Something bad happens and I go numb. Tonight it was Wii. Most of the time its TV or the Internet. I make noise – I ignore. It didn’t work for me tonight. I’m not sure it ever really does. Anyway, I let my guard down. I began to feel sorry for myself. Before I knew it Satan had gotten in. I really hate him. He reminds me of all the things I hate in myself. When Satan brings the hurts of my past to the surface it’s not heal them, he picks at them – inflames them. I swear, for a minute tonight something in me hurt in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. The kind of hurt that makes your stomach knot up and your fist clinch. The kind of hurt you can’t control or understand. Tonight I gave Satan just a little window and he drug all the darkness I’ve spent the last eight years burying back in through it.

One of the things I’ve come to love most about my Savior is his willingness to be where I am. If I’ve learned anything in recent years it’s to look for him. I read the story of Nicodemus’ encounter with Jesus recently. When John talks about Nicodemus he refers to him as the man who came to Jesus by night. Yes, in fear and uncertainty Nicodemus came to Jesus by night – but he came. It’s interesting to me that the story doesn’t mention that Nicodemus knocked on the door and woke Jesus up. It doesn’t mention Jesus stumbling to the door in his pajamas wiping the sleep from his eyes. I’m just speculating, but I imagine Jesus was already in the street, waiting. I imagine all the disciples and Jesus having one of those long dinners and Jesus excusing himself saying he’d like some fresh air. I imagine Nicodemus coming around the corner in the dark trying to figure out how he’s going to talk to Jesus without anyone knowing only to find Jesus leaned against the wall waiting for him. What Nicodemus found was a savior eager to meet him. He got Jesus at his best. John 3:16, the most powerful and precise explanation of the gospel message, was spoken to one man – in the shadows.

21 And when Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered about him, and he was beside the sea. 22 Then came one of the rulers of the synagogue, Jairus by name, and seeing him, he fell at his feet 23 and implored him earnestly, saying, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well and live.” 24 And he went with him.

This is what I read tonight. I’m not sure how to explain why this hit me the way it did. I think it was probably the words “my little daughter” followed by “he went with him.” You see, I think the reason I was so bothered tonight is because it’s the first time I’ve really dealt with past failures since becoming a dad. It scared me a little. I was afraid somehow I would let her down the way I’ve let others down, that my hurt would become her hurt – my burdens her burdens. My little daughter deserves better than that, my little daughter deserves a daddy that Jesus goes with.

I’m reminded once again that there is no place my Savior won’t meet me, no place he’s unwilling to go. Tonight sin created a moment, but it was invaded by Truth. Tonight Jesus gently whispered truth into the shadows. Tonight I got Jesus at his best.

My actual Blog is at csreynolds.wordpress.com. I did the blog there because I couldn’t come up with a name. By the time I decided on the name people had already linked to the other one, I then registered this one so if people typed in the name of the blog they could find me. Its all very confusing. Sorry.

With each intimate moment you spend at the savior’s feet, may you see him a little more clearly and love him a little more deeply. -Ken Gire-

So, I just read Melanie’s blog and remembered I’m supposed to be talking about Sunday night’s small group. You take one week off and everything goes to crap.

Ok, so this was the trees video. I like it pretty well, I have to say that I got a little off during the discussion part of the meeting so I’m not going to be able to address much that was said there. I will say that I’m right proud of myself for holding my tongue when the discussion took a slightly political turn. I get too fired up about that stuff and apparently, as Dave so eloquently pointed out, would argue with a fence post so I decided it would be best to let it go and have that discussion over drinks some time. Anyway, I got all distracted and wasn’t much good for the rest of the discussion.

So, the video. I only remember one part of it. Rob Bell was talking about the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil in the Garden of Eden and The Tree of Life planted in the New Heaven in Revelations. We live between the trees. He said that some pastors talk like all we do here is wait. He says this is a problem because we know it’s more than that, that we need a God that teaches us how to live in the here and now. What I got sidetracked by was the suggestion (not by Bell) that this life is just a vapor, that it’s fleeting. I know the Bible backs this up, but I have a real problem with it (or with how its usually taught). People use this all the time to tell us to live for eternity – to store up our treasures in heaven, that’s all fine and good but I don’t think its the point of the illustration. I think the point of telling us our lives are a vapor is to illustrate how huge God his, how in control he is, that his plan is bigger than us and that his glory is ultimately what matters. I think its close to useless for teaching me how to approach my life on a daily basis. It just doesn’t seem right. I know nothing about eternity, but I know Friday took it. I know days are often long and pain tends to linger. Old people are always talking about how quickly life goes by, but it doesn’t feel that way to me. I’m not sure what they hope to accomplish by telling us that anyway, do they want me to savor these moments. Its difficult to savor what your just trying to survive.

Please don’t think I’m saying my life is difficult, its not. It’s pretty good. There are moments I savor, yesterday I flew an airplane around all by myself and then went home to a beautiful wife and the cutest little girl anybody has ever seen (she really is, that’s not one of my exaggerations). My point is, sometimes it’s difficult. Sometimes life is hard and I don’t think saying life is short does anything to help in those moments. I don’t think that’s what Jesus meant when he speaks of the brevity of our lives. I don’t think that’s what he meant because it’s in those moments he takes time to meet with us. In those moments we find him, or he finds us.

I often think that Jesus is intentional in slowing things down – in exposing our pain and weakness. I think it’s interesting that when things go well they seem to move by us in a blur, but when we hurt life slows down. I’m of the opinion that often times we are allowed to hurt or caused to hurt so that we slow down. In one of his last conversations with Peter Jesus reminds him of his greatest failure. He doesn’t mention it in a way that draws attention to it, he doesn’t embarrass Peter, he doesn’t scold or yell at him – he reminds him. Jesus asks Peter three times (the same number of times Peter betrayed him). “Do you love me.” He gently brings the pain of his failure to the surface. Not to hurt Peter further, but to heal him. The third time Jesus asked the bible says Peter was hurt (Jesus had done what he intended, he slowed things down – burnt the memory of this moment on Peter’s heart). Jesus said, “Feed my sheep.” Jesus is saying, I still believe in you. You are the right man for the job. Then Jesus extends the same invitation he extended on a fishing boat three years earlier – “Follow me”. The healing is complete. The invitation still stands, despite Peter’s betrayal.

These moments of intimacy and healing are often turning points in our lives. It was for Peter, barely seven weeks after that moment with Jesus Peter preaches his greatest sermon – three thousand people are saved and the church’s foundation is established. Peter became the rock the church was built on in an intimate moment with his savior, a moment created by pain but marked by healing. The moments that matter don’t pass like a vapor, they stay with us – etched in our hearts. It’s in these moments of intimacy we are healed – restored. Nice and slow.

There will be no fish in the lake of fire.

Want to get high? Try Jesus

-Ridiculous Church Marquee-

This is the kind of crap that pisses me off. I saw these things written on church marquis today. I have a hard time understanding how people think this is a good idea. “Well, we’re the church. Trusted by God himself with the gospel message and charged by him to spread that message of hope and love to a world that is lost and dying. How do we do that? I’ve got it; we’ll put stupid crap on our sign.”

I mean honestly, do they think the world sees the heart of Christ in this stuff? No wonder the church has such a hard time being taken seriously. My first thought is how do they know that. There may very well be some big demonic hell fish swimming around in there. What difference does it make anyway? The second one is even more insulting, I think. I spent most of the afternoon flipping through the Bible trying to figure out if Jesus is something you inject or inhale. I get the joke, by the way, heaven is high – Jesus is the way to heaven – hilarious. Its a play on words, see. I guess the hope is that people think we’re clever so they come in expecting a comedy show and we can blind side them with the Truth.

Easter: The Great Jail Break

This one is a little better. I know you have limited space on those signs and I appreciate the attempt to illustrate the freedom we have through Christ. My problem with this one is that its inaccurate. Jesus did not break us out of jail. We are not living as fugitives. We have been declared innocent. We are free to live without fear, out in the open. We we’re not broken out, we were pardoned. Actually, the verdict read was read as not guilty – ever.

I’m not sure why this bothered me so much today. I wonder if there is a web-site with dumb and inaccurate church signage. I’m convinced, given what we know, that we can offer more.

Shortly after I posted this originally I was sent a link. Apparently there is a web-site with dumb and inaccurate marquee ideas. If you want to see it click here.

I’ve had the memory of the same night playing over and over in my head for the last several days. I used that night as an example of a time when God’s hand moved in the darkness – its a time God points to and says, “See, I was there in the night with you.”

I had just left the hospital after being there with dad all day. He had a surgery that didn’t go well, in fact, it did nothing but weaken him further and reveal more problems. Before the surgery there was hope – after there was none. The cancer that we thought was isolated in his liver had moved into his stomach and intestines. They were both shutting down. I don’t remember much of what happened after we talked to the doctor. There was a lot of crying. I didn’t. I was numb. The rest of the night at the hospital is kind of hazy. I don’t remember getting in my truck to drive home, but I remember my phone ringing. It was late and I was driving, but I figured talking to someone would be a good distraction. It was Claire. “How’s he doing?” It was a question I had heard countless times in the preceding several months but something about the way she asked it moved me. My mind flashed back over my friendship with Claire and I knew it was safe. I could tell her. “He’s dying, Claire.” It was the first time I admitted it to myself, and for the first time since dad got sick I cried. In my truck on Alcoa highway in the middle of the night a call from a dear friend allowed me to begin to deal emotionally with losing my father. When I got home several of my best friends were already at my house. It wasn’t unusual. They did that a lot. I’m not sure what I would have done if they hadn’t been there. God uses that night to show me that he has surrounded me with community. That he does provide. That he is there when you need him. It boggles my mind that he points to that night.

“He’s dying, Claire.” I felt it happen. I know that was the moment. As those words left my mouth I quit believing God is good. The truth of those words was more powerful than anything I had learned in Sunday School. My faith failed – my world darkened – night fell.