Treasure Hunters

Before parenthood, everyone tells you about how huge the change will be in your life and how great parenthood will be. But nobody tells you just how badly your 12-pound angel’s dirty diaper can make your stomach feel. They don’t really explain how frustrating it is to get up every two hours at night to feed a crying baby. They don’t give you the words to say to that stranger in the store who is offended because your toddler has learned the word “monkey” and is screaming it to everyone who walks by. No one can explain the love and worry that a mother goes through at 3am when the fever has not broken. Every year at Mother’s Day we all have something to be grateful for: our moms who were much cooler before we came along and who put up with much more than they should have.

The Bible tells us that Mary treasured the memories of raising Jesus in her heart. It is easy to forget that Jesus was a real baby, a real toddler and a real child. Mary changed the Creator of the Universe’s dirty diapers; she taught the Messiah how to blow His nose and all of those other wonderful things that we teach our children. I imagine that there was a special glow that came over Mary when someone would ask her a question about her son, Jesus. I’m sure she smiled when she recalled the day that 12 year-old Jesus got lost in the city during Passover. And after years had passed by, that day of terror became a treasure to Mary. Memories are the treasures that nobody can take away and cannot rot or decay.

Maybe this weekend was a treasure for you. Twenty years from now, the big promotion you were hoping for or the new car you’ve been wanting will probably mean nothing to you. But that stressful Sunday morning when your daughter, in her beautiful new Sunday dress, fell in the toilet 5 minutes before you were supposed to leave for church. The stress from that morning will soon transform into a beautiful gem, a treasure that you can add to your treasure chest of precious memories.

My challenge for you is this: be a treasure hunter, value every moment that you have with your loved ones and try to never miss a memory.

Shiny Plastic Couches

Sometimes a smell can take you to a faraway place. The other day I smelled a familiar smell and in an instant my mind was transported to my grandparent’s house. I could almost feel the carpet as I watched wrestling, with Grandma in her chair and Granddad in his.

I can still remember just about every detail of their house, I can tell you where every piece of furniture should be. I spent many hours exploring every inch of their house, and I’m sure that I have seen everything from every possible angle. Well, there was one room that I can’t say that about, The Parlor. I can only remember going in that room one time and I was quickly drug out by my ear.

It was a beautiful room; it was not the living room, because there was no life in the parlor. I know that there was an organ in there, a giant wooden record player, and couches covered in shiny plastic. The plastic was there to protect the couches, but I’m sure they were no fun to sit on. Now, I’m not anti-plastic slip cover, so don’t get mad if you have shiny plastic couches.

Remembering Grandma’s parlor made me wonder: How many Christians have parlors in their lives? Sure, we gave our lives to Jesus, but did we really turn it all over to Him? Maybe we have collected some sins that we like, that aren’t “that bad” that we have wrapped in plastic and told Jesus to stay away from. Jesus wants full access to our lives and we cannot experience life to the fullest unless we allow Him into our “parlors” and let Him clean those out too.
So come on in Jesus, we kind of like our shiny couches but we love You more.

Closer than you think

“I do it myself!” Those are the words that echo through our house these days. Along with the growing vocabulary and coordination has also come the desire to be independent. It is amazing how many things a two-year-old thinks he can do by himself. As a father it is sad to let go sometimes, but at the same time it is great to watch him accomplish something on his own.
Sometimes Riley tries to bite off more than he can chew and I never want to discourage him so that he becomes overly dependent, but I also don’t want to see him get hurt. I know the days are coming when he will say, “Daddy let go, I want to swim by myself.” I will let go, and even though in his eyes he is doing it all by himself and I am far away; the truth is, I will be closer than he thinks and when the water gets over his head I will grab hold of him and pull him to safety.

I wonder sometimes if God is watching us, and we say, “Daddy, I do it!” I can almost see those loving eyes looking at frail us. More than one time I’ve found myself in a situation like Peter who jumped off the boat and took his eyes off of Christ. You can see the surface of the water above you, the lightning and waves. You know that the end is near, when out of nowhere a strong arm reaches down and pulls you in close to safety.

Maybe that is where you are this morning, your independence has gotten you in trouble again or you are starting to feel that circumstances have gotten the best of you. I want you to know that just like any loving Father; God is closer than you think.

Scars and Squirrels

The Bible is pretty clear that we should not hate anyone, but I hope squirrels are excluded. I was twelve when my good friend and neighbor, Billy, and his family adopted a baby squirrel and named him Alvin. He grew up and they fed him, held him and he ran around their house like a dog. But one day in their carport he pranced up to me and I stuck out my hand so he could sniff me. I don’t remember eating peanuts that day, but I do remember Alvin’s yellow teeth chomping my poor little pinky finger and his entire body shaking as he tried to bite harder. Years later I can still show you my scar (if you have a good imagination) and I will not turn my back to a squirrel.
It is scary how much damage a mouth can do, some people live their whole lives scared from mouths, and they may not have even been bitten. The wounds that hurt the worst are from what someone said. That is why God warned us that our tongues are dangerous weapons. We have the power in our mouth to point people toward God or to turn them away from God completely. Our tongues can cut people very deeply and those wounds are hard to heal and even harder to forget.
So the next time we start to say something we should not, maybe we should think about the damage that we are about to do and the scars we are about to leave. And the next time you see that squirrel playing in your yard, be warned that he may be eying your “finger food.”

Easter Everyday

Elvis has never called me on the phone. I saw a lady on TV the other day who said he had called her recently. It amazes me that all these years later people can still have hope that he is alive. It is hard for me to believe that he was smart enough to pull off that kind of hoax in the 70’s only to get caught at a 99-cent store in Podunk, Indiana buying some crunchy peanut butter. If you want to believe that he is alive that is your decision. And if he is alive I hope that he realizes that not even the King of Rock-and-Roll can escape death forever.

Today, as we celebrate Easter, it is easy to get distracted by the eggs, family activities, candy and even all the church activities. None of these are bad, but in the middle of all of these things let’s not forget why we celebrate. The King of Rock and every other human has or will have an appointment with death (unless Christ comes back before then.) But, we can celebrate because some 2000 years ago, this thing that terrified so many people was beaten by Jesus, God’s son who came and became like us, so that we could live without fear of death.

You may say, “How do you know that Jesus beat it?” I know because He told us, Revelation 1:18 says, “I am He who lives, and was dead, and behold, I am alive forevermore. Amen. And I have the keys of Hades and of Death.” (NKJV) When Elvis calls me and tells me he is down the street, I will believe that I was wrong, but for now we can celebrate that we serve a risen Savior and nothing can change that.

Red Rover

“Red Rover, Red Rover, send Joshie right over!” My heart started pounding as soon as I heard my name. I had been chosen. The goal is to run as fast as you can and smash through the other team’s line, forcing two of them to lose their grip on each other’s hands. Adrenaline was flowing, my seven year old feet were moving as fast as they could, my breath whistled through my missing tooth and I thought, “Today I will prove them wrong and bring victory to my team.” I set my sights on two little girls, they were the weak link, and I charged full steam. I smashed into their line, momentum pushed my feet forward and gravity pulled my rear-end down, clothes-lined by two little girls. Skinny little Josh was just not big enough for that game.
Life is a lot like Red Rover, your name gets called; you try your best and hope that in the end you’re still standing. Some of us experience failure early in life and start accepting that we are failures, no matter how hard we try; we just keep falling. But then you hear something, is that your name being called? Your heart starts pounding and you realize that it is. Jesus is calling you, He has seen all of your failures, He knows how weak you are, but He still loves you. So, when we see that we have failed, Jesus sees that we qualify for mercy and grace and He offers that gift to everyone, even failures.
It is nice to be chosen.