whispering at full volume…

Here’s to the people we all know, and wish we were more like.

Those who give, and truly expect nothing in return. Those who give, and know he will never see anything in return. Those who trust, while the rest of us sink into the depths of our own understanding. Those who wait. And wait. And wait some more. All because God said so. Those who will drop everything to act now. All because God said so.

Those precious souls who have absolutely no idea how remarkable they are, because they don’t think about themselves all that much. Here’s to you.

You don’t climb mountains and plant flags. You don’t blast it over loudspeakers. You don’t demand. You don’t stomp. You don’t rail. You don’t complain. You don’t grumble. You just don’t.

You whisper it. In a smile. In a word. In an act of kindness. In your life.

In your sweet surrender we hear the message of God. And it comes through loud and clear. There is no way we cannot pay attention.

the worst/best day of my life…

God knows just what I need. And precisely when I need it. And that is one of the primary reasons I believe.

I don’t remember what day of the week or month it was (Beth does. And probably the hour, too). It was the only pregnancy appointment I had ever missed. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. Check the baby’s vitals and home right away. A quick in and out. 15 minutes tops. But, as you’ve probably already gathered, things did not go quite as planned.

I was on my way to a lunch meeting with a friend. And then my phone rang. It was Beth. So, let’s have the good news, right? No. With as much voice as she could push out from behind a breaking heart, she told me the tech was having trouble finding a heartbeat. She needed me to come right away.

Did I mention that it was raining? Hard? Why is it that these things seem to happen on rainy days?

So, I changed course and headed to the doctor’s office. On the way I called as many guys as I could. Please pray for the baby, for Beth, and for me. And I’m sure they prayed. Each one of them. But I knew. This was as far as this pregnancy was going.

When I got there, I was ushered to the doctor’s office in the back. There Beth and I learned that sometimes life is just not fair.

An aside…those who have been through a miscarriage understand that the miscarriage itself is not even the worst part of the process. There is also the gut-wrenching aspect of “what to do now.” You essentially have two options…wait and let nature takes its course, or schedule a procedure that is about as unpleasant as anything you’ll ever experience. I’m not sure which option is worse. We tried the first, but had to end up going with the second.

Another aside…My wife is a rock solid woman. She walked through the entire thing with strength, dignity, and grace. She’ll get mad at me for writing this, but I’m gonna do it anyway. She’s a badass. And I love her. Beth, thank you for remembering our lost angel. And for not letting me forget.

So, that was the worst. But here’s the best…

Because of the craziness of the day, Megan missed her nap. Usually when that happens, she is no fun to be around. That day, however, she was different. She very quietly played in the living room, occasionally coming to each of us to show some sweetness. She brought a peace to our home that day. And as we watched her play, we looked at each other. We didn’t even need to say it. We knew. We had already been blessed more than any two people should be. And in that moment, we saw how good God is.

That was one of the best moments of my life.

That day was brought back to the forefront of my thoughts because a friend and his wife are currently walking through the valley of the shadow of death. Unfortunately there is not much I can say to comfort them. Only that I know that they know the same God who knows all. And I can bet that he will give them exactly what they need at precisely the right moment.

i have to let your heart break…

There is a story told of two men watching as a young lady auditions for a role in a Broadway show. As the girl sings, one man turns to the other and says “She sings beautifully.” To which the other replies “She’ll sing better once her heart is broken.”

I am still not completely sure of what that means, but I’m working on it.

Why do bad things happen? Often we like to add “to good people” at the end of that question. But let’s be honest…I’m not good. And neither are you.

Nonetheless, it is a fascinating question. Why does God allow us to endure some of the things we endure? Is it that he lets us deal with the consequences of our own decisions? Is it that we need to be reminded that this life is not the whole story, and that there is a beauty to come that far outweighs anything we might experience here? Is it that sometimes life just stinks, and that’s just how it is?

Or is it more?

God tells us that we should believe it’s a good thing when we endure trials. Why? Because there is something going on, even in the trial, that has the potential to draw us toward him. In the middle of it, he is there. On the other side of it, he is there. It’s not easy. Not even close. And often it hurts like hell (are we too civilized to let ourselves say that?). And at times it breaks our heart. But God moves, waits, and challenges us to keep walking. “I wouldn’t allow you to be pressed if I didn’t love you,” he says. “There is a purpose here,” he assures. “Trust me,” he challenges. “Have I ever failed you?” he asks. “Just wait until you get to the other side! You will not be the same.

Nobody cherishes health the way a cancer survivor does. Survivors know what it is to have a future in doubt. They remember the day the phone rang and a normal life left the building. They recall the appointments, the tests, and the tests. And the tests. They remember the treatments, sometimes received alongside people who didn’t make it.

They can’t forget the emotions. Every last one of them. Good and bad. The high and the low. They will never forget the questions. Why? How? Me?

If they’re fortunate enough to make it through to the other side, they are different. They look at life differently. There is a deeper joy. A stronger strength. A renewed dependence. They’re just different. They likely would not have volunteered to go down this path, but now that they’ve walked it they recognize how it has affected their life.

Sometimes, for reasons that can only be known to God, you and I will walk through the fire. Our hearts will break into a million pieces. It is precisely in these moments that God says “Keep walking. I am singing a song through your life. A song written for the broken hearted. A song that can only truly be sung by those whose hearts have been broken. And mended by me.”

the closest thing I’ve got…

You are not my father. You are, however, my mother’s husband. And when you married her, you got the package deal. One lady. Two boys. I never once sensed that you glady took the one while grudgingly taking the two. Thank you.

I was at an age where manhood was beginning to loom, and I needed a man to be there. And you were. Not always perfect. Not always right. But always there. And while I didn’t appreciate it then, I do more and more as time goes by. You never tried to force yourself into the role. You were simply there. Thank you.

I’ve never seen you cry, but I know you’ve done it. At least twice. Mom , who is typically the crier of our household, told me that during my wedding you cried so much that she leaned over to ask if you were ok (I can’t help but laugh every time I picture that scene). She also told me you wept during my grandfather’s funeral (by the way, he loved you deeply). Those two occasions were some of the most emotional days of my 33 years on this planet. And these two occasions showed the depths of your care for me and for my family. Thank you.

You helped me see what it is to love a woman. Thank you for sending a rose to mom every week. And for kissing her every time you come home. Thank you for not bailing when times got tough. I saw her before you, and I’ve seen her since. She is not the same lady she was. Thank you.

I work hard because of you. I’ve seen the way you attack every task with attention to detail, and a diligence that has always humbled me. That work ethic has found its way into my daily life. I hope I make you proud with the way I give myself to my vocation.

Thank you for the way you love your grandchildren. My daughter and son love their Papi (for our guests that’s pronounced pah-pee), and they know their Papi loves them. They are part of your legacy, and you will be part of their’s.

I’m not sure I’m always the best man I can be. But I know this…I am a better man because you are part of my life. Your blood does not run through my veins, but your spirit is in me. The way you treat people inspires me to do the same. The way you approach each day with a smile encourages me to enjoy life to the fullest.

Know that I talk to God about you often. I thank Him for you. I pray that He would be real to you like never before. I ask that He blesses you.

You are not my father. But you are the closest thing I’ve got. And for that, I thank you.

owning this together…

We have taken this as far as we can take it. Now we need more. More hands. More minds. More investors. More owners.

It’s not like there are not people owning this ministry now. There are plenty. Elders, volunteers, givers, staff members, and more. Each sacrificing. Each blessing. Each owning.

We simply need more. In order to take the next step forward, we must have men and women who own the ministry of Westpoint Church. Who own this vision of being the church, doing life together, and giving ourselves away.

Let’s make a pact with one another. The agreement? You and I will never be a worker again. Ever. In fact, we will never volunteer for another project. Instead, you and I will be owners. You see, workers show up when they are told, do what they are told, and go home as soon as the job is done. That’s not what is needed here. Volunteers are a little better, because they are willing to go above and beyond. They will come early and stay late if necessary. But in the end volunteers are putting their time in to help fulfill someone else’s vision.

Owners, on the other hand, share the vision. It’s inside them. It’s becoming as important to them as it is to the first person who communicated it. Owners believe they are an important component in moving the vision forward. They know that they matter. Their gifts, skills, and resources help make things go.

Without owners, the vision fades. The dream dies. The church flounders.

So, what does this mean for us? It means we need people who see the importance of being the church in daily life. Men and women who understand that their mission is their family, their neighborhood, their workplace. Who understand that they are the missionary called to reach people in these spheres of influence.

It means we need people who value doing life together. Men and women who know that lives are transformed in the middle of health communities. Men and women who are committed to creating more healthy communities.

It means we need people who are willing to give themselves away on Sundays. Men and women to work with children. To welcome guests. To set up a room for the Gathering. And to do these things not because this is their church job, but because they know that a healthy Gathering moves us forward.

It means we need people who will sacrifice themselves for others. Men and women who will serve. Who will meet needs, with no expectation of anything in return. All because they are motivated by the love of God, and a desire to put that love into action.

We don’t need membership. We need ownership.

i’ve been married 11 years today…

On this date 11 years ago I said “I do.” Oh, if I had only known. If I could sit down with that man of 22 years and have a talk with him before he walked down the aisle, I’d have a few things to say. For what it’s worth…

Romance her. Write notes. Send flowers. Give gifts. Take her on dates. And do this on days other than the “supposed to’s”. You know, your anniversary and her birthday. Even lousy husbands show up on these days. You already won her heart, but you’ll keep it when you do things for no reason other than the fact that you dig her.

Find ways to make her laugh. It is a scientific fact that women appreciate a sense of humor more than a thick head of hair or a toned physique (thank God!). When you laugh together you become closer. I don’t know how it works, but it does.

Shut your big, fat yapper. Listen to your wife. She is brilliant. And wise. And insightful. Let her speak.

Discover God with her. Pray with her. Read scripture with her. Surrender your marriage and your home to Him. Enjoy His blessings together.

Stop trying to make her better. Guys tend to want to “fix” things. Loose screw, tighten it up. Chip in the drywall, patch it up. Perceived personality flaw, criticize until it becomes to your liking. There is no need for “fixing” your wife. Hey, she was better than you deserved then, and she is better than you deserve now. Plus, have you taken a moment to see how many loose screws and chipped drywall pieces are floating around on your side?

Love her kids. This might be the most important thing I can tell you, 22 year old Jim Collins. If God blesses you with children, love them with all you have. These are the only things you’ll ever see with the imprint of God, her, and you all over them. She will know you love her if you love your children.

Never let the kids take precedent over her. Kids are great. But she is greater. They will not always be as close as they are now. She will always be.

Thank God for her. Be grateful that she loves you in spite of the fact that lots of days you fall woefully short of everything I’ve just challenged you with. You are a blessed man.

And keep this in mind…You think things are great now. Oh just wait, my friend. You ain’t see nothin’ yet.