Do we have children?

Being a "20 something" married couple, it is not uncommon to be asked, "So, any kids yet?"

I have never been asked a harder question in my life than this one.

My answer, hesitantly, is always no. I do not have any kids. I do not have a child. I do not wake up in the middle of the night to a hungry baby. I do not change diapers. I do not have to change my own clothes due to unsuccessfully changing a diaper. I do not embrace my manhood while carrying a diaper-bag. I am not sleep-deprived, calling baby-sitters, or attending soccer practice. Our friends with kids live a beautifully-frantic, cram-packed life, and although they are tired and are under house-arrest by the sole authority of a toddler, I am deeply jealous of them.

We had been married just under a year last December when we found out Bailey was pregnant. We shared the news with family and close friends. We began discussing how our rhythm of life would change. I began preparing dry toast and a half-portion of coffee for Bailey to help smooth out morning-sickness. We spent Christmas with my family in Orlando. We skipped rides that advised against pregnant participants. Bailey, my sister Amberly, and my Mom spent a day shopping and bought our first newborn outfit (my Dad, sister Heather and myself were downing butter-beer and flying on broomsticks). We also picked out our child's first stuffed animal, a Winnie the Pooh bear. After the long drive from Florida to Arkansas we turned around and visited Bailey's family in Texas, where Bailey spent some time shopping with her mother for some infant clothes as well.

Just before our vacation was over we had our first ultrasound appointment.

Wednesday January 4th.

I have never been more anxious in my life as I was at that moment. The ultrasound began and the room fell silent. There was no sound, no heartbeat, no joy. The technician quickly let us know she was going to go get the doctor. His added skills with the ultrasound instruments did not matter.

No sound. No heartbeat. No life.

Bailey had carried our beautiful baby for 10 weeks. There was no way to know when the life ended. There was no way to know why the life ended. We had briefly tasted parenthood.

We celebrate our first child's life and we praise God for the life our child had, for the brief moments that we were a family of three, the brief moments that we were parents.

We cried, a lot. We cried together, with family, and with our community. People surrounded us, served us, held us and loved us as we mourned. We were comforted. But by far, our strongest comfort came from our God who knows the pain of a child's death. Verses such as John 3:16, which I had become desensitized to through years of Vacation Bible School, Bible Drills, and RA's, came flooding into our hearts with fresh new meaning.

For the first time, I understood that God not only suffered pain from Christ's death, but he chose this pain.

God chose pain in choosing us.

The world might see the loss of our child as God inflicting or allowing this terrible tragedy to happen. What I know now is that God is fully involved in pain and tragedy in order to one day fully redeem all suffering, all pain, and everything that separates us from Him.

Revelation 21.1-4

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear rom their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away."

FREE Evangelism

I just started my new job at Texas Wesleyan University as a regional transfer recruiter. I spend most of my time at one of the Dallas County Colleges representing the University and communicating important information to students looking to transfer. Recently I shared a space with an investment company who spent 4 hours standing in the middle of the student center asking students "Do you want a free Starbucks gift-card?" I was amazed at how many students blatantly lied over and over again.

Who doesn't want a free gift card?

Even if you hate coffee, I don't, so sign up for the dang card people, my birthday is a month away!

The catch is that we are set up in the student center where everyone who ever sets up anything is stationed. This monotony creates an impossible task of trying to win the attention of students who are forced to walk through this building numerous times a day while always being hounded to give blood, vote, sign a prospect card, or fill out our survey for "a chance to win a free gift card".

The point is, you sound like a hound. If you don't immediately get annoyed at this thought, imagine a full grown blood hound, fully capable of reaching painfully high decibels, barking at a squirrel in a tree that has no desire, need or intention to come anywhere near the ground where even then a clumsy old dog would never catch it.

How different do you sound when your youth group is standing on a Sundance Square street corner asking people "where will you go when you die"?

How different do you sound when you attempt to argue a person into submission all the while only communicating that they are damned?

How different do you sound when instead of living the gospel you are campaigning blind conservative morality?

Mark Driscoll refers to this as shotgun wedding evangelism, where the goal is converts who in turn have very little if any foundation to understand the gospel. For some reason we fail to carry out the full command Jesus gave to make disciples by baptizing and teaching. I thank God and give Him all glory for my baptism both in the water and spirit, but we have become far too pleased with getting people wet.

Without teaching the gospel and scriptures we have failed the great commission.

I was recently challenged and convicted with how my life, actions and conversations live out the gospel. Why   does the gospel not penetrate into my relationships and conversations. Why do I not read scripture with my faith family?

If our lives are gospel centered then we will not have to win the attention of the world. Christ has already done the work we must simply allow it to overwhelm us in our own lives as well as in community.

Acts 2:42-44

"And they devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and the fellowship, to the  breaking of bread and the prayers. And awe came upon every soul, and many wonders and signs were being done through the apostles. And all who believed were together and had all things in common."

My Master's Degree

Our life most recently (and most consistently) has been described as a whirl wind. This Saturday we will move out of Seminary housing and into our new home. For the story and updates on this progress you can follow my wife's blog. With this move we are officially removing any ties we have with seminary and my progress there of. I have started a training program through Porterbrook and begin a new job next Monday (Sept. 17).

This decision was not easy.
The Porterbrook program is not easy.
Buying a new house is not easy.
My new job is not going to be easy.

Leaving the thought of my Master's degree behind has not been easy.

From the audience's perspective it may seem that I am taking choice B, the wide road, or "the white slide"; allow me to explain: My wife and I both worked at Sky Ranch Camps for 3 summers. One of the events was the water slides, which consisted of 3 slides, a red, white, and blue. The blue was known for throwing you every-which way possible most often ending with a sore neck the next morning but never unsatisfied. The red slide was the most popular among counselors. If you knew how to "dry-slide" (which was definitely against the rules) and burito-wrap your slide mat, you could end the epic slide several feet in the air guaranteeing for your splash to not only reach, but drench the life-guard. Last was the white slide. This slide was longer, but with the added distance you also lost incline which created a slow-ride which most often ended with you getting stuck and having to push yourself the last 10 feet to eventually enter the slide pool (insert small splash).

A lot of what I have learned and who I have become involves my experiences at Sky Ranch. I learned to not waste my time on the white slide, but I also learned to not be scared of something different, something unseen, and something that doesn't "fit".

For years, I have been on one path, which in my mind always included me receiving a Master's of Divinity. The path over the last 10 months has been one, wild, ride. This summer God brought me to a realization that I was putting the approval of Men above himself. I wanted this age-old ministerial degree so badly that I didn't care if it wasn't part of my Master's plan, direction, and calling for me. I have been on the white slide, pushing myself along, hopefully, someday, arriving in that perfect wherever-ville. Why have I been on the white slide?!

I am three weeks into Porterbrook, moving into a new house in two days, and starting a new job in four.

Whether I find myself with a stiff neck in the morning or flying through the air, I now know without any doubt that I am serving my God.

It is not easy, but it is fun!