Monday, October 6, 2008
I was just thinking the other day that everywhere I turn, someone else is promoting their new book. And as much as I admire Craig Groeschel, even he seems to always be writing a new book. It can be overwhelming to keep up with the crowd, making sure you're up to speed on the newest literary works by all the up-and-coming leaders of the church world. But as I was unpacking a few of our things since we recently moved, I came across a priceless treasure I had forgotten I owned. It is a leather bound compilation of several books by Jack London. My grandparents, my mom's parents, gave it to me for Christmas in 1985. Yup, you read that right: 1985! The book is 23 years old! It's older than my wife! Oops...... ha ha I had to throw that in there Ashley - love you! Just checking to see if you still read my blog. Anyway, I began reading "The Call of the Wild," and was absolutely engrossed and mesmerized. I could hardly put the book down. As I read along, I couldn't help but think that John Eldredge must LOVE this book. Jack London has a way of holding the reader's attention that I haven't experienced in a LONG time. I couldn't help but continue reading on and on, caught up in the story of Buck, a gentle, tame southern dog captured and turned sled dog in the wilds of Alaska. When I finally put the book down to go to sleep, I had a renewed appreciation of the classics that I hadn't had in a long time. What are some classic books that you really enjoy, or that you enjoyed as a child?
Thursday, October 2, 2008
The Warrior God
The following is an excerpt from one of John Eldredge's books. I really like this passage, so I'm posting it here. Enjoy!
The LORD is a warrior; the LORD is his name. (Ex. 15:3 NIV)
The LORD will march out like a mighty man, like a warrior he will stir up his zeal; with a shout he will raise the battle cry and will triumph over his enemies. (Isa. 42:13 NIV)
But the LORD is with me like a mighty warrior; so my persecutors will stumble and not prevail. (Jer. 20:11 NIV) [The NASB translates mighty warrior “dread champion.” Goliath was a dread champion; the mighty men of David were dread champions. King James has it as “a mighty terrible one.”]
Lift up your heads, O you gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in. Who is this King of glory? The LORD strong and mighty, the LORD mighty in battle. (Ps. 24:7–8 NIV)
Our God is a warrior, mighty and terrible in battle, and he leads armies. It is this God that man is made in the image of. I spoke of this in Wild at Heart, but some things bear repeating, because a man will be in a much better place to enter the stage of the Warrior if he knows this is thoroughly grounded in Scripture, supported by Scripture, compelled by Scripture.
(The Way of The Wild Heart , 138
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
A little story of God's provision....
The Oklahoma State Fair ended this past Sunday, and while we did not go this year, it reminded me of an amazing way that God showed me how much he loves me. 3 years ago, when I was a single dad, the state fair came around, and I was BROKE. And I mean BROKE. I was really struggling to make ends meet, and I had just enough money to pay for admission. I had no money to pay for food, or games, or rides. So I told Elisabeth and Tori that we would go, and that we would do all the free stuff - look at the animals in the livestock barns, the car show, made in Oklahoma building, etc. They were pretty bummed about not being able to do anything "fun" but they really had pretty good attitudes about it. So we went, and I became pretty frustrated because we got a horrible parking spot, and had to walk a LONG way. Then we were waiting in a VERY long line for tickets, and there was a very long line behind us as well. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman who looked to be in her 60's with a cane walking toward us. At first, I thought maybe she wanted to cut in line, so I offered for her to get in front of us so she wouldn't have to stand so long to wait for tickets. She thanked me for the offer, but said she had 3 tickets she needed to get rid of, because her grand daughters were supposed to come with her, but they were sick. So I offered to buy her tickets, but she refused to let me pay her, and said that she wanted to give them to someone who could use them. I thanked her profusely, and was very grateful for the tickets, to say the least! She left, and the girls and I got out of line. As we were walking toward the entrance, I opened the envelope with the tickets, and couldn't believe what I saw! In my hand were 3 tickets to Disney on Ice, that had cost $50 EACH! And they included admission to the fair! Needless to say, I had tears streaming down my face by then, and was just overwhelmed by God's goodness. So Elisabeth, Tori, and I got to see an incredible show, for FREE, and we even had money for snacks during the show! We went to the fair as paupers, yet because we have a Father who owns everything, and who loves us immensely, we were treated like royalty. God is truly GOOD.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Short Update
Not much to report. We did get moved into our apartment, FINALLY. My dad and my brother Jordan helped, and we were able to get everything moved in one day on Saturday. They were really troopers - it rained on us all day! Ashley hates the apartment, she is not used to apartment living. The baby is finally moving - it is VERY cool to feel it move. We will find out in 2 weeks whether it's a boy or a girl. She will be 18 weeks along by then. I'm still praying for a boy - if it doesn't have a penis yet, I'm asking God to grow one! LOL. I have faith!! We are joining a new life group - tonight is our first night, and the group is volunteering to sort clothes and toys at a local baby ministry. I spent the day in Stillwater at a Landscape/Turf conference. Kind of boring, but it was a beautiful day outside, and it was a day away from the office. I think that's about it! Tune in for more..... one of these days SOON I'm actually going to start posting some creative content.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
A New Season
I really feel like God is taking me and my family into a completely new season in our lives. Ashley and I are expecting our first baby, and although we are VERY excited, life has been challenging. We moved out of our house to downsize and move into an apartment, yet once we moved out of the house, the apartment wasn't ready yet, and we have been without a home for almost 2 weeks now. I feel that God is really wanting us to be completely dependent on Him. Not so easy, but I have immense peace about the situation.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
A bit nostalgic...
This is something I wrote over 2 years ago, but I will re-post it here, as it fits with how I've been feeling lately.
I don't know why, but lately I have been very reminiscent, very very nostalgic. I often get lost in my childhood memories of my grandparents and great-grandparents.. My fondest music choices lately tend to be old hymns that my great-grandmother and my grandmother sang to me when I was little. I remember my grandfather, a deacon in our southern baptist church, teaching me the rye-whiskey song. (My mother didn't think it was so cute.) I remember my great-grandpa's old coin collection, and antique guns. I remember my grandpa letting me drive a real train, and stories of the Great Depression. I constantly wonder what life was like in the 1940's and 1950's. Life was so much simpler back then. I miss our family gatherings at my great-grandparents' house, when each holiday was another family reunion, as EVERYONE in the family was there. I remember my great-grandmother, a woman who once owned her own restaurant (Goldie's), baking a strawberry pie just for me each holiday because she knew how much I liked strawberries. I remember the old, musty smell of my great-grandfather's garage, and the countless treasures I found there in the antique tools, and old junk, glass pop bottles, and railroad lanterns he collected. I remember "helping" my grandpa fix lawnmowers, seeing his tanned forearms and pale white biceps, the "farmer's tan" that he got from spending hours each day as a switchman riding the trains of the Rock Island Railroad. I remember fishing for hours and hours with my grandpa and my uncle in a small aluminum boat on lake Tenkiller every summer. I remember catching the biggest fish I've ever caught in my life with my grandpa. It was a 5 pound bass that I was so proud of that I made a plaster cast of it. I remember hearing my great-grandmother tell and re-tell the story of how her father, my great-great grandfather, Gustav Berg, came to America on a boat from Sweden at the age of seventeen, knowing no English and no one, and how he eventually became a methodist circuit preacher, traveling in a horse and buggy, holding tent revivals to bring the lost to Christ. I often hold his Bible, my most cherished possession, a Swedish Bible ( I can't read it ), printed in 1842, and wonder what his life was like. I remember old Studebakers and old Chryslers were always parked in my great-grandparents' driveway. I remember my grandparents giving me my first Bible when I was baptized at the age of 6 or 7 in Southern Heights Baptist church. I remember my grandparents coming over to my house and sitting in my grandpa's lap, and he would always affectionately slap my leg and say, "How's my little man?", or "How's my favorite grandson?" (I was his only grandson - at that point I had all sisters!) As I sit pondering why I feel compelled to put these thoughts to pen and paper, I realize that my childhood was imminently blessed with memories of my grandparents and great-grandparents. These precious memories fill my grateful heart, yet my heart breaks at the same time, knowing that my daughters will never be afforded those same experiences. I can only do my part to pass along my memories and the timeless stories of an era when life was much simpler and family was the most precious commodity.
I don't know why, but lately I have been very reminiscent, very very nostalgic. I often get lost in my childhood memories of my grandparents and great-grandparents.. My fondest music choices lately tend to be old hymns that my great-grandmother and my grandmother sang to me when I was little. I remember my grandfather, a deacon in our southern baptist church, teaching me the rye-whiskey song. (My mother didn't think it was so cute.) I remember my great-grandpa's old coin collection, and antique guns. I remember my grandpa letting me drive a real train, and stories of the Great Depression. I constantly wonder what life was like in the 1940's and 1950's. Life was so much simpler back then. I miss our family gatherings at my great-grandparents' house, when each holiday was another family reunion, as EVERYONE in the family was there. I remember my great-grandmother, a woman who once owned her own restaurant (Goldie's), baking a strawberry pie just for me each holiday because she knew how much I liked strawberries. I remember the old, musty smell of my great-grandfather's garage, and the countless treasures I found there in the antique tools, and old junk, glass pop bottles, and railroad lanterns he collected. I remember "helping" my grandpa fix lawnmowers, seeing his tanned forearms and pale white biceps, the "farmer's tan" that he got from spending hours each day as a switchman riding the trains of the Rock Island Railroad. I remember fishing for hours and hours with my grandpa and my uncle in a small aluminum boat on lake Tenkiller every summer. I remember catching the biggest fish I've ever caught in my life with my grandpa. It was a 5 pound bass that I was so proud of that I made a plaster cast of it. I remember hearing my great-grandmother tell and re-tell the story of how her father, my great-great grandfather, Gustav Berg, came to America on a boat from Sweden at the age of seventeen, knowing no English and no one, and how he eventually became a methodist circuit preacher, traveling in a horse and buggy, holding tent revivals to bring the lost to Christ. I often hold his Bible, my most cherished possession, a Swedish Bible ( I can't read it ), printed in 1842, and wonder what his life was like. I remember old Studebakers and old Chryslers were always parked in my great-grandparents' driveway. I remember my grandparents giving me my first Bible when I was baptized at the age of 6 or 7 in Southern Heights Baptist church. I remember my grandparents coming over to my house and sitting in my grandpa's lap, and he would always affectionately slap my leg and say, "How's my little man?", or "How's my favorite grandson?" (I was his only grandson - at that point I had all sisters!) As I sit pondering why I feel compelled to put these thoughts to pen and paper, I realize that my childhood was imminently blessed with memories of my grandparents and great-grandparents. These precious memories fill my grateful heart, yet my heart breaks at the same time, knowing that my daughters will never be afforded those same experiences. I can only do my part to pass along my memories and the timeless stories of an era when life was much simpler and family was the most precious commodity.
Reason For This Blog
For anyone who is taking the time to read this, let me begin by saying welcome to my blog. This is LONG overdue. I know that many people have blogs simply for the purpose of chronicling their daily lives. However, let me be clear that this blog serves a different purpose. For many years, I have enjoyed writing, as it is a talent, underdeveloped as it may be, that God has given me, and lately I have felt Him guiding me back to it. This blog will serve as a platform of introspection, a place to explore what God is doing in my heart and in my life. It will also serve as a place to post poems and prose from the past and from the present. In short, whatever God lays on my heart is what I will write. That being said, thank you again for reading, and let the blogging begin.
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