The heaviest weight we carry

 

As he broke the world record in squats, my friend looked more like he was in a boxing match than in a powerlifting competition.  His eyes looked like they were branded by a hot-poker when his blood vessels ruptured as he strained to stand up, his nose followed in suit and it streamed like a leaky faucet as a crimson flow gushed over his upper lip, all resulting from the immense stress on his overwhelmed cardiovascular system, even his face darkened into a newborn’s shade of purple like when they are desperately gasping for their first breath.  

Unlike my friend’s weightlifting competition though, there is no trophy waiting for the people clinging tightly to the wrongs they’ve suffered. The heaviest load any of us will struggle under is also the most pointless weight we bear, the worst burden we will ever carry is a grudge.  

The stronger the connection we create between our injuries and our identity, the harder it becomes to let go of our grudges.  As they drag us down, like wearing overalls in the swimming pool, our Herculean-held-grudges always lead to the unhealthy hope that our enemy will suffer greatly, but when your enemy finally drowns, your guarantee to swim gracefully, well your success sinks even deeper.  Somehow in our eager anticipation of their downfall we overlooked our own imperfections. Much like a novice reading a milky-looking X-ray, with a log in our eye, we failed to diagnose our own problem by focusing on the person who let us down, hurt us, or failed to live up to the double standards which we held them to but most likely neglected to live-out ourselves personally.  

Why allow the past (that you can’t go back and change) to continue to rob you of your joy today & defeat your future?  As long as our offenders are always the ones playing Judas in our personal stories we will remain miserable. More importantly, maturity on the other hand recognizes the betrayer in the mirror as well as the benefits of pardoning our offenders; most likely the person who is keeping you awake at night rarely if ever thinks about you, so quit giving them anymore of your attention.

Believe it or not, carrying a grudge isn’t the best for nurturing our spiritual health, as it has been said, “Carrying a grudge is like being stung to death by a single bee.”  Therefore, the first step in purging our despair and moving toward true wellbeing is to jettison, eject, discard, or simply put, to drop our grudges.

Why does this even matter? If the road to hell is paved with good intentions, then misery is a bridge on that road, a bridge which we’ve built with the grudges that we refused to lay down.  As Jesus says in Matthew 6:14-15, “14 For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, 15 but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.”

Why Fatherhood matters and what's to be done

                                       

Does it really matter to you what gender the Bible uses to describe God when you are in the midst of disorientating discouragement, like when you lose your job or face the daunting struggles of any major crisis? Do you remember the controversy surrounding “The Shack” when William P. Young's representation of “Papa God” was an older woman and Young’s depiction of the Holy Spirit was also that of a woman?

Over the years I’ve noticed plenty of people calling God mother or “her,” but then I wonder why the very people who portray God as feminine in His nature refuse to exchange or swap the given gender describing Satan or any male enemy of God throughout the Bible. That inconsistency, their glaring absence of labeling other male designated individuals as a female, probably tells you all you need to know about their agenda.

God is Spirit and is unlike humanity in His nature, but for whatever reason God is revealed throughout the Scriptures with masculine pronouns, and He is often portrayed as our Father. Take it for what it’s worth, but psychologists tell us our view of God or how we understand God is often filtered through our relationship with our own earthly father, perhaps because fathers typically provide our family units with a sense of comfort, confidence, safety and well-being.

The very fabric of society is woven securely through the protection and provision of fatherhood. Fatherhood matters, and there’s a reason it is under attack. This assault on fathers is a tactical move from the evil one to distort, devalue and minimize the value of fatherhood. “Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, who gave himself for our sins to deliver us from the present evil age, according to the will of our God and Father, to whom be the glory forever and ever. Amen.” (Galatians 1:3-5)

Look at any of the sectors in our civilization that are crumbling, and you’ll trace the initial collapse back to the void left by absentee fathers. Prisons are filled with inmates who lacked a strong father-figure in the home. Likewise our schools struggle to discipline unruly students who are in the same boat, and some messy marriages can trace their struggles and problems back to a spouse who didn’t have a strong father growing up.

Yes the pressures of fatherhood are intimidating. Yes it feels thankless at times. Yes it requires men to be sacrificial. And yes it takes effort. But then again nothing in life that’s worthwhile comes easy. If your dad has already passed on, do your best to honor his legacy. If he is still alive, he doesn’t need another tie or a cheesy Father’s Day card, and he really doesn’t want you to spend any money on him at all — so leave those fishing lures on the shelf. What he does deserve is more respect, and what he really needs more than your appreciation is your prayers.

...Originally published in the Timesnews you can click here to read it

Overcoming Intimidation: Gaining my culinary confidence

 

Tonight we grilled a 3 pound tomahawk and it occurred to me that I am no longer intimidated by preparing and cooking food that I would categorize as extraordinary, unique, special, or what you could call gourmet.  This wasn't always the case, once I was afraid to try my hand at dishes that would not be normally "homecooked" meals but I remember what dish helped me over my timidity over messing up food.   

My boost of culinary confidence came from, of all things, making saganaki, the famous flaming cheese that is a staple at many Greek restaurants.  Saganaki is a rather expensive appetizer at the restaurant and few restaurants within 100 miles of us even offer it.  Saganaki requires a special cheese and certain preparations and methods, but I mastered it after only a few tries.  Tammy and I had a taste for it, we googled the instructions, sourced the kasseri cheese and took a stab at it, and I'm glad we did.  I've played around with a few ways of making it and I've improved on the recipes I studied and now Tammy and I make it several times a month, almost like it's nothing.  

I have enjoyed this lack of intimidation when it comes to tackling good food that we might not normally try, and I truly enjoy cooking with Tammy, and cooking new and exciting meals that we really enjoy.  I guess I took the approach, "What's the worst that could happen?"  So the food doesn't turn out and we toss it in the garbage, who really cares?  I've had a few meals that didn't turn out so great, but those are mere fractions of the overall great experiences we've had cooking.  My encouragement is to give it a try, if there's a meal you've longed for and feel fearful, you lose more by not trying to cook it than you could lose by attempting it and failing at it.  

Once you find out how easy lobster is to cook at home, you'll think twice about ordering it off the menu when you eat out.  The idea of cooking lobster shouldn't be terrifying, it is one of the easiest dishes to cook.  

We enjoy meals at home for a reasonable price that we never could afford at a nice restaurant.  For example, a frenched rack of lamb is under $40 at Sam's club, it includes around 14-16 or so servings, a serving portion of three lamb "lollypops" is over $50 at most restaurants, so we are getting about 5 times as many portions for about $10 less than if we ate out..  The same is true for Chilian Sea Bass, a few ounce portion is around $40 at the restaurant, if you buy it at the seafood store or frozen from the grocery store, you'll get a pound of Sea Bass for the same price.  How about fillet mignon, Prime Rib, or even a brisket?  It's far more reasonable to make it at home, but even more so is the rewarding feeling and the sense of accomplishment that you overcame your fears and made an incredible meal that you're proud of, that is priceless.  

If you have the stomach for it, check out the videos below, the videos are not everything we've cooked but only a sample, I share these videos to whet your appetite and to hopefully inspire you take up the challenge of cooking something difficult but delightful.  Bon Appetit!  

 

How to feed your faith and defend it:

 

First of all, thank you to everyone who has already bought a copy and thank you to those who have shared my new book on your social media.  

Every age or generation presents challenges to our beliefs, but one common difficulty we all encounter is the rejection of absolutes that apply to everyone – everywhere.  People who do not agree with you spiritually speaking will simply say something like “that’s true for you, but not for me...” as if that settles the matter.   Is that statement valid, are there ways we can respond to this, and more important why does it even matter?  Top this off with the momentum that a rapidly advancing A.I. has generated and the challenges and opportunities from A.I., and this is where my book comes in.  I hope you’ll look it over on Amazon and consider how this book can help you clarify what you think you know about truth, absolutes, and the tools provided within in this book for defending your faith in the age of A.I. 

Click here to find my book on Amazon

Churches can’t fake this….

 

Just across our state line over in Weber City there once was a charming restaurant called Gasthaus Edelweiss that served homemade German food and I miss it terribly.  Their tiny place was cozy & quaint, replete with rustic furnishings and German folk music playing in the background, it was idyllic, but it was more than the delightful decor that captivated me -- there was a substantial quality there that drew me in.

If you never made it there to eat, their unique atmosphere had the right blend aesthetics & ambiance, the wife spoke with a thick German accent as she presented the menu with a vibrant flair, she had a feisty yet endearing-attitude while her husband, an Eastman retiree, rarely left the kitchen where he quietly cooked and cleaned.  Their food was always amazing and I know the real deal when it comes to European cuisine, having eaten plenty of it my whole entire life, my mother-in-law is from Germany and my maternal-grandparents were first generation immigrants whose parents emigrated from Germany and Bohemia.  

Why was this enchanting restaurant so special to me?  Authenticity is what really describes the experience of Gasthaus Edelweiss, their food and the folks running it and their authenticity attracted me and brought me back, their authenticity was why my wife and I loved to take friends and family there and it’s why we miss it and still talk about it long after their restaurant closed.  Other than the closing of their doors, I wish more people could say the same about their experience with church because authenticity is the secret “ingredient” that’s missing in too many churches these days.  

Churches can imitate efforts at generating gatherings or emulate events engineered to wow or dazzle and they can even fabricate circumstances and experiences that are lively or enticing, but churches can’t fake authenticity.  When we run our churches like they are another division of some business or when we focus on pleasing our “customers,” we forfeit authenticity -- I’m all about being attractive to visitors, but what is it exactly we are inviting people to?  

We somehow mistake church for the clothes we wear on Sunday, the pews we sit in, the lightshow & presentation or the name over the door, but in our pursuit of the externals instead of the eternals, we’ve taken our eyes off of Jesus, His Word, and the power of participating with His community.  There’s a reason why so many spiritually-wounded people are cynical, jaded, and skeptical of organized religion, it’s because there's a difference between going to church and being the church.  There is no saccharin-sugar-substitute for feeling cared for, cared about, and loved through real friendships, relationships, or mutually edifying and encouraging each other, or mentoring and growing together, none of these community based essentials can be fabricated or faked.  

When it comes to church-life too often we try to find spiritual satisfaction with microwaved meals or settling for grocery store aisle samples instead of savoring the banquet God has in mind for us; maybe if we focused on being more authentic we could set a table people would long for and miss when they were away, as they say, the proof is in the pudding, “Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good!  Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!” (Ps 34:8)

Does God still speak to us in our dreams?

 

During my early twenties I experienced an unusual recurring-dream; I had it frequently enough over a period of about 4 years that when I would wake up and tell my wife, “I had ‘the’ dream again,” she knew precisely what I meant.  Strangely it took many years before I realized this bizarre dream was from God, but it would take decades until I grasped its purpose.  

At that time I was working full-time in concrete and monthly

I dreamt I was seated in a classroom surrounded by your stereotypical

students yet I was older than the rest and wearing my work-boots & dressed

for working in concrete. 

The dream became a point of frustration since back in my school days

I was placed in remedial classes by our administration and

labeled a “LD” student (Learning Disabilities) and without any interest in pursuing

a degree I avoided taking the ACT or SAT in high school. 

The dream developed in complexity until it culminated with a graduation ceremony

in an auditorium that I had never seen before, and after that ceremony the dreams ceased.   

At age 28, at God’s moving (along with plenty of encouragement from my mentors) we packed up and on faith our family relocated to Arkansas to enroll in Harding University’s preaching program.  Over our summer transition while I awaited the start of the Fall semester I picked up a job working in concrete for a local contractor.  When another classmate told me about a two-week summer session on Art appreciation which was required for our bachelor’s degree that met from 8:00 to noon, I asked my boss if I could take this class and come into work after our class was dismissed.  My boss graciously agreed, and in preparation for working concrete in the afternoon I attended my morning class already dressed in my work clothes...   

Sitting in the Art class on the first day the dream finally hit me!  And yes when I graduated from college, the stage we walked across and the entire auditorium was exactly like the one in my dream all those years ago, years before we even became believers.  

If you are asking “Does God still speak to us through our dreams?” I say yes He does, but it’s probably not exactly in the sensational ways we expect, first of all we don’t expect God to speak to nonbelievers yet that was exactly what I was.  We have plenty of examples in the Bible of God revealing revelations through dreams but here’s an important distinction, we think that dreams “part the clouds” as God instantly illuminates our path, they’ll be exciting, clearly guiding us in the moment, yet that wasn’t the case for me, not at all.  

I believe God still guides us today through dreams though it took years for my dream to be fulfilled and many more years for that dream to be comprehensible, and perhaps most importantly it was only understood in retrospect.  Most people think of divinely inspired dreams as ones that immediately have application, they are prophetic and easily understood by the recipient but this isn’t always the case; although my dream completely predicted my future with a profound and an eerie accuracy it was only long afterwards in hindsight that I was able to decipher it.  

My dream lacked a clarion-call for obedience to “go forth,” it was a complete mystery that was only unveiled after many-many years.  In other words at the time my dream wasn’t about a prophecy foretelling my future, it was about promises, God’s promises that He miraculously accomplished in my past.

After 30 plus years I recently realized that yes the dream was a gift of confirmation, but more so it was given to me to encourage me and it was meant to remind me of God’s gracious enduring intervention because even before I was a believer and I was very distant from God, He was preparing to sustain me through this special dream.  Ministry can be messy and discouraging and it can be a strain to remain optimistic at times -- instead of initially guiding my path, this dream that once frustrated me unfolded slowly and it became a gift because its memory is a permanent reminder for me to reflect upon that God is in charge even we have no clue, He has a future in store for us even when we are aimless, and He will always care for us even on the darkest day, as Deut 31:6 declares, “Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you.”

When your happiest day leads to your biggest heartache

Strangely, our happiest day can be inseparable from our greatest grief.  Our highest peaks of joy begin the path that to our deepest valleys. What do we do with these feelings and emotions?  I’ve found writing a poem helps, call it therapy without a therapist, but I’ve found poetry to be helpful and therapeutic on life’s journeys.

I have written poems that are special to me, they have a significance that mere words cannot convey accurately, not without the art of poetry at least.  Poems help me understand and process and even appreciate the intensity of the experience.

Sometimes a poem simply hits you out of nowhere, with a jolt, some inspiration from an experience, an insight, what have you, it comes instantly and you ride the wave as you quickly try to write down your thoughts before they evaporate.  Other poems need time to simmer.  

You think the theme over.  Then, like the example of a poem you’ll find below, there are times when a poem is years in the making.  Here’s a poem that I wrote in over the course of about a month but it was 15 years of life and living that inspired & influenced this poem. You can’t simply make up or create a poem like this one from imagination alone, you live through the joys and the sorrows, you watch a child grow over the years into a man as his best friend lives and dies in real time.  When you give a puppy to a son who is a preteen and then you sit by his side many years later as the veterinary helps the old dog cross the rainbow, it hurts and you feel guilty for causing the pain.  The discovery of how significant the relationship is and that life can deliver pain through love is a difficult topic and the power of poetry is that poems are the best way to express this emotion and sensation. 

 Click here for the poem