You've Been Learning About Marriage All Along

What do you say to your son and his fiancee on the day of their marriage?  This is what I shared with Josh and Jen during their wedding on December 14, 2013.  

Josh and Jen, parents are famous for repetition.  In your growing up years, you heard some of the same parental admonitions a thousand times.  “Clean up your room.  Close the door, but don’t slam it.  Be nice to your sister.”  I confess that I’m worse than most when it comes to parental repetition.  I have a set of stories and comments that all three of my children can quote verbatim.  Still, as I’ve thought about what I wanted to say to you, Josh and Jen, on your wedding day, I’ve decided to tell you the same things that Linda and I have been telling Josh, and Ken and Louise have been telling Jen, your entire lives.  You haven’t outgrown them.  In fact, today they become truer than ever.  What you really need to know about marriage, you’ve been learning your entire lives. 

As you were growing up, we, your parents reminded you, thousands of times, to say “Thank you.”  As children, you may have said those words without feeling much gratitude.  We hoped your feelings would catch up to your speaking.  As adults, you’re in greater danger of feeling gratitude and not expressing it.  As you begin your marriage, I challenge you to put the thankfulness you feel into words.  Today, I’m sure that you can’t imagine taking each other for granted.  But as time goes by, you can learn to count on each other so completely that you forget to count each other as blessings.  Life can only be seen for the gift and miracle that it is by grateful hearts.  Say “thank you” for the little things you do for each other.  Never underestimate the power of a word of praise or a compliment.  Take time to say to each other, “I’m thankful for you.” 

How many times did we tell you to share?  Josh, we reminded you to share after you duked it out with another boy over a toy airplane in the church nursery.  Jen, your mom says that with three siblings, the commandment to share was often repeated.  Sharing was important then, but much more so now as you begin your marriage.  Daily, share your hearts with each other.  Talk about your dreams, your joys, your prayers, your goals.  Share your hurts with each other too.  You won’t protect each other by keeping secrets; you’ll only create distance and silence.  Share your family with others.  For a while, you’re right to focus on building your shared life, but remember that the abundant Christian life is always bigger than family ties.  Your greatest fulfillment will come as you reach out to a hurting world together and serve the cause of Christ.  In that kind of giving, you’ll receive a joy and sense of purpose you won’t find any other way.  Share. 

Ask for what you need.  You two are so much alike in so many ways.  You both love to go and do.  I’ve described you to others as a couple that says, “We have an hour before dinner, let’s go skydiving.” You think so much alike that you may often feel that you can read each other’s minds.  But remember that the health of your marriage depends upon asking each other for what you need.  Don’t criticize each other for not knowing what you haven’t been told.  Your marriage is too sacred to let it become a guessing game.  Ask for what you need.  Ask for time.  Ask for undivided attention.  Ask for help.  Ask for affection.  Ask for space.  Ask for prayer.  Asking requires courage.  Asking demands trust in each other that you’ll listen closely and respond lovingly.  Jesus says that the one who asks receives.  Put that truth to work in your marriage each day. 

Wipe your feet before you come in the house.  You were taught to do that so that you wouldn’t track the dirt of your day’s adventures all over the house.  Jen, when your parents installed new flooring in your home, clean feet and shoes left outside became the rule of the house.  Home needs to be kept clean, so, we said, wipe off all of the daily dirt before you come inside.  You still need to wipe your feet before you come home.  As you go through your working day, you can pick up the dust of unfinished business, the dirt of frustration, the mud of anger.  Do your best to deal with life’s dirt where it happens so you don’t bring it home.  But when you do, make the conscious decision to leave it outside.  Don’t track the dirt of the day through your marriage.  Keep your time together clean and beautiful.  

Say “I’m sorry.”  Josh and Jen, you are two great people, but even great people will hurt and disappoint each other.  You’ll say words you wish you could erase.  You’ll have an attitude you don’t understand.  And when you’ve done wrong toward each other, you’ll face the decision of what to do about it.  You can ignore it, but the hurt will grow.  Josh knows the story of the oak tree in front of my parents’ home that I once could put my hands around, but now has grown so large that three persons can’t reach around it joining hands.  Cut down your hurts while they’re small.  You’ll bless your marriage if you’ll have the courage and honesty to say “I’m sorry” and meet that confession with the sincere gift of grace “I forgive you.” 

Say your prayers.   Parents love to hear their children pray, because we get to overhear the worship of a heart so fresh from God.  Josh, you sometimes would sing your prayers, composing a spontaneous song of praise.  Jen, your family has always prayed together as you sat down to share a meal.  I challenge the two of you to say your prayers.  Pray together.  Pray for each other out loud by name each day.  Those prayers will remind you of what matters.  Those prayers will draw you closer to God and to each other.  And the closer you move toward the Giver, the more of the joy and beauty of this gift you will receive. 

Finally, keep your promises.  From childhood, you've been taught to do what you promise, not because keeping your word is always easy or fun, but because of who you are.  Other than your commitment to Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord, you’ve never had so big a promise to keep as this.  To keep it, you must turn a deaf ear to the values of this world.  To keep it, you must not only watch your actions, but also guard your hearts.  To keep it, you must give the best to the one you love even when he or she has nothing to give in return.  Keeping this promise will take your whole heart and the rest of your lives, but keeping it well will give you life in its fullness in return. 

I hope that you see that God has been preparing you for each other and for your marriage your entire lives.  If we who so love you have helped prepare you for a wonderful life together, then our joy today is even more complete. 

Every Gift is an Invitation to Know the Giver

 Since before Andrew was born, he has had a blanket.  Andrew’s blanket is a quilt with his name and birth date stitched at one end.  The birth date is wrong.  Andrew was to be born on November 30 by planned C-section.  Even then, he had his own plans.  Linda went into labor on the 28^th and Andrew arrived on the 29^th.  We didn't change the date to remind us that, from the very beginning, Andrew has done things his own way.  Practically every night of his life, Andrew has slept with that blanket.  For years, bedtime couldn't happen without it.  We've sent search parties to find it.  The blanket has always been a part of Andrew’s life, bringing him warmth and comfort and bringing us many good memories. 

When Andrew was a few years old, I returned to Woodruff to officiate the wedding of a young woman who grew up at First Baptist while I was pastor there.  At the reception was the woman who had made the blanket, a beautiful artistic lady named Lottie Caldwell.  I found Andrew, and brought him to her and said, Andrew, here is the lady who made your blanket.

I didn't know whether Andrew would run away or take the shoes off his feet.  But he stood there, looking up into Lottie’s face, listening to me tell the story of how she had made that blanket to welcome him into the world.  I don’t think that he’s ever looked upon that blanket quite the same way since that day, for now he not only knows the gift, he knows the giver of the gift. 

Christians are called to give thanks in all circumstances.  Answering that call begins with giving thanks for every good gift.  Why?  It’s wrong to take good things for granted.  It’s easy to forget how many good things are in our lives.  But there is a much better reason to give thanks for every good thing.  Every good gift is an opportunity to know the Giver, to know God, to know that we are not lucky or fortunate—we are loved by a Heavenly Father.  Knowing Him is the greatest blessing.  Knowing Him is what every good thing in your life and mine invites us to do. 

The love of every good friend is an invitation to know the One who is closer than a brother. Every meal that feeds our body is a time to remember the One who feeds us by His grace every moment of our lives.  Holding a baby in our arms, we can almost hear him say, “I love you like that.  You’re my child.” Give thanks for every gift is an invitation to know and love the Giver.  

This story will be included in a book, The Stories of My Life, that I hope to complete in 2014.  The book will share about 150 of my life experiences that have taught me about knowing, loving, and living for God.  Stay tuned...

Give Thanks Until You Feel It

 I keep a guitar near my desk at all times so that I can practice my own kind of music therapy.  I like to play on days when I feel on top of the world—my song flows out of my joy.  But I need to play on days when I feel down—sometimes your joy has to flow out of your song.  Some days the message and the melody are like a letter from home that reminds you of all of the good things and clears your eyes to see good and see God.  On good days, I play because I feel it.  On bad days, I play until I feel it. 

Giving thanks is like that.  On good days, a Christian can hardly keep from praising God.  Not doing so is like trying to stop the water from coming out of a garden hose with your thumb.  You can hold it for a moment, but then it just has to spew out. 

But on bad days, giving thanks is more like working a pump handle.  There’s no water when you start.  There’s no water for a while.  You give thanks though you don’t yet feel thankful.  But if you keep on giving thanks, taking action in spite of what you may feel, the waters of gratitude and joy will come.  Giving thanks is the action you take, believing that in time your feelings will follow. 

Give thanks because you feel it.

Give thanks until you feel it.

Either way, it is good to give thanks.  

God Can Turn Misery into Ministry

I saw a message from a Facebook friend that troubled me.  The message didn’t give any specifics, but I knew that something bad had happened to Aaron (name changed).  Twenty years ago, he had taken his first full-time ministry position out of seminary at the church I served as pastor.  He was, to me, a little bit like a coworker and a little bit like an adopted child. 

I called him and learned that he had fallen victim to some terrible church politics and his fifteen-year ministry at a church he’d help to grow from the ground up had wrongly come to an end.  Needless to say, hearing about his struggle brought back some memories.  I had often asked God to take away some of those memories, or at least the pain they brought, but now I saw that I had an opportunity to do something far more faithful with what I had endured.  I couldn't remove those experiences from my heart and mind, but I could, in helping my friend, redeem them for God’s glory.  I told him…

I've walked in this valley you’re in and, if you’ll let me, I want to help you get through it.  I want you to know that this journey will be hard, as hard as anything you've ever done, but there is another side.  You can’t see it yet.  You might not believe it exists right now, but I can tell you there is another side and I want to walk with you until you get there. 

We all suffer, but not all of us become faithful stewards of our suffering.  If you and I will place our pain on the altar of service, then we can become a part of a helping healing miracle.  Paul described that miracle when he wrote…

(2 Corinthians 1:3-4) Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.

When you are a faithful steward of your suffering, then God does a miraculous thing:  your greatest hurt becomes your greatest ministry.

Bless This House

After many months of slow, things were happening fast.  We sold our home in Traveler's Rest.  We put down a deposit on a lot and a floor plan to build a home in the Midlands.  Now we were driving out to see the lot wondering if any work had begun.  As we rounded the corner, I could see workers and a huge cement mixer on our lot.  Yes, it had begun.  The foundation of our new home was being poured.

Linda and I got out of the car and walked over to where a man was standing with a clipboard, inspecting the work as it unfolded.  He introduced himself as "Lannie" and made polite conversation.  I wandered across the lot to take a few pictures while Linda continued to talk to Lannie.  When he learned that we are Christians, he got very excited.  He called me back over and said, "I'm a Bible-believing man, and I want to speak a blessing over your new house."  What could I say, but "Thank you."  Lannie raised one hand and began, 

"Lord, bless this new home.  May we build it as though we were going to live in it.  May everything go well with the building, but more than that, let this be a place of peace and joy.  Give this family a ministry in this community so that this home will be a lighthouse to everyone who sees it.  We bless this home in Jesus' name.  Amen."  

Lannie pours foundations for homes, but found an opportunity to speak a word of blessing upon my family and our new home.  Linda and I were deeply moved by his ministry.  Lannie goes into his workday looking for people to bless in Jesus' name.  That's a great way to live and a great way to serve Christ.

You and I will cross paths with people who need a word of blessing; a reminder that God is God; that God is good; that God wants to bless the lives of those who love and trust Him.  May we not hesitate but, like Lannie, seize the moment and speak a good word for God.

A Real Friend

It was a Tuesday night, the night for men’s intramural basketball.  I brought much more than my basketball shoes and sports goggles to the gym that night.  My heart was broken and burdened for a friend facing marital problems.  I faced several frustrations in the office that day.  I was hurt.  I was angry.  I didn't hide it.  I barked at the referees.  A kindergarten teacher would've written a note that said I didn't play very nicely with my friends.  I fouled out.  I took my shoes off and sat at the end of the bench by myself, staring at the floor.  Lost in my thoughts and my embarrassment, I lost track of the game.  The final buzzer was like an alarm clock awakening me.  When it did, I noticed that someone was sitting quietly beside me.  He wasn't one of my teammates.  In fact, I clearly remembered shoving him off of the court during the game so that I could get a rebound.  After a little while, he dared to speak. 

 Dee, I know something is on your mind tonight and I can tell it’s not good. You carry a lot of burdens for many of us, and I think you’re pretty weighed down right now.  I don’t have to know what’s got you down, but I do want you to know that I care.  You’re my friend and I love you. 

Rick’s words were a gift of true friendship because being my friend wasn’t a very easy thing to do right then.  Tough times reveal whether the love we claim for our friends is real.  The Proverbs teach us that,

(Proverbs 17:17) A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.

A true friend loves you when you’re not the most popular person in the room; when you need more from them than you can give; when others walk away; when you’ve hurt or disappointed them and they have to see through your mistakes and see your heart.  

I saw true friendship at work that night and saw how much I want to be a friend like that to others.  How about you? 

Note: This is one of the stories that will appear in a book I'm working on right now.  The Stories of My Life will bring together a couple of hundred life experiences that have taught me how to live and love.  I'll tell you more when I know more!  Enjoy.  

Don't Leave God's Gifts of Joy Unopened

Dr. Gerald Mann, founding pastor of Riverbend Church in Austin Texas, tells how he and his wife Lois couldn’t afford a honeymoon trip when they were married.  Six years later, because of free passes he received from the airline he worked for at that time, he and Lois took a trip to Hawaii.  One evening they were walking down Waikiki Beach, hand in hand, when they came upon a luau in progress.  The torches were burning, the traditional foods filled the table and a live band played music.  Lois said to Gerald, Let’s dance.  For whatever reason, embarrassment or inhibition, he said he’d rather not. 

          Many years later, Lois became very sick.  The doctors told her that she wouldn’t live much longer.  As she and Gerald talked one day, reflecting on the life they’d shared, he asked her a question, Lois, do you have any regrets? 

Of course I do, she answered.  Everyone has regrets.  If they say they don’t, they are lying. 

What is you main regret, he asked. 

That we didn't dance on the beach.

          This story is about much more than dancing.  It’s about living.  It’s about experiencing God-given moments of joy instead of blindly or fearfully letting them pass by.  It’s about opening the gifts of joy God sends you instead of leaving them unopened. 

          Every sunrise…every hug from a child…every song…every surprise meeting with a friend…every verse of scripture that seems to have my name on it…each one is a gift of joy that God has sent me.  He sends them into my life so that I might live in the spirit of Psalm 92:4,

For you make me glad by your deeds, O LORD; I sing for joy at the works of your hands.

          I haven’t danced on enough beaches.  I've missed a thousand of those moments, but I don’t want to miss another one.  I want to see and receive and live in celebration of God’s gifts of joy. 

Pass on What Matters

I shared this story as part of my Mother's Day message and hope that it will be helpful to us all as we seek to give the best to those we love.  

Pass On What Matters

    A nurse named Nan Pinkston learned a great lesson from one of her patients. Rebecca came to the doctor with real problems and strange symptoms only to learn that she didn't have long to live. Rebecca was a wife and mother of two girls, ages six and four. As Rebecca wrestled with the short time she had to live and as she thought about all the things she wanted her daughters to learn and know, she decided to prepare them a very personal, very special gift--in fact a set of gifts. In the months that Rebecca had left, she took time to record messages to her daughters--the things she most wanted them to know and live by at different stages of their lives. There was a tape about going to school, about becoming young women, about dating, about faith in God. The last day of her life she taped her last gift to her daughters, guidance in how to welcome a second mommy into their lives if their Dad should be blessed to marry again. When Rebecca realized how very short her life would be, she made passing on what really matters the mission of her life.

Our lives with our children are brief at best. Before you know it, they're grown up and gone. We work for God when we pass on what matters, when we make teaching our children the mission of our lives.

If you had been Rebecca, what would you have recorded on those tapes for your children? What matters so much to you that you would have to be sure they knew it, even if you were gone?

Aren't those the things that we need to be passing on to our children right now, even today? The Bible says, in Deuteronomy 4:9,

"But watch out! Be very careful never to forget what you have seen the LORD do for you. Do not let these things escape from your mind as long as you live! And be sure to pass them on to your children and grandchildren. (Deuteronomy 4:9 NLT)

Do your children know your testimony? How you became a Christian?

Have you told them of God’s faithfulness in your life?

Do they know the difference that Christ makes in the challenges you face each day? 

Moms (and Dads), your most important mission with your children, in this world of delay and distraction, is to pass on what really matters. 

My Stain is Upon Him

I shared this meditation with our church family in our Ash Wednesday service on February 13, 2013

It began as a family visit.  Two of my aunts had come over to visit my mom and had brought their children with them.  For reasons I will never understand, these adults decided that their visit would be more pleasant if they allowed my two cousins and me to play somewhere else.  The weather outside was not so good that day, so we were allowed to go downstairs and play in the basement. 

After a while, we got bored with the toys that were there and created our own game.  We discovered that if we climbed five of the ten stairs that went from the basement to the main level of the house, we could step off of the stairs and stand on an old draftsman’s table that my dad used as a workbench.  Then, we could jump from the workbench on to the basement floor, somewhat like paratroopers jumping out of an airplane.  We made our first jumps rather tentatively, but once we discovered that we could survive the fall, we became a kind of living circle—three preschoolers running up the stairs, jumping on to the table, then leaping out into space and landing on the floor. 

All was well with the preschool airborne division until one of my jumps went awry.  A sudden crosswind must have blown through the basement because I missed the landing zone and crashed into a horse.  This was my rocking horse, one of my favorite toys, but not my best friend that day.  When I landed, my head collided with the frame that supported that horse.  One of the bolts that held the horse’s springs to the frame was sticking out like the nub of a branch on a tree.  As I collided with the horse’s frame, my face slid across that bolt, tearing the flesh away from my left eye.  I knew at once that it hurt.  I was much more convinced that it hurt when I pulled back my hand and it was covered in blood.  My cousins screamed as though they had seen a monster and ran all the way up the stairs for help.  In just a moment, my mom came down the stairs.  I offered her my preschool diagnosis of my wound, “I think I need a Band-Aid.”  Terrified by the bloody mess around my eye, she screamed and, for a moment, ran back up the stairs. 

I don’t know how our next door neighbor, Mrs. Kay, got word that I was hurt, but in what seemed to be only a moment or two, she was in our basement with me and my mom.  I remember that she was wearing what we called a “housecoat,” a cross between a robe and an outfit.  She saw me running around the basement, screaming in pain and leaving a trail of blood.  She called me to her, wrapped her arms around me and held me close until some of my panic eased.  Then she told my mom to start the car.  What we were going to a nearby doctor’s office.  When we got in the car, an old 1957 Chevrolet, Mrs. Kay stuck her hand in her housecoat pocket and used that part of her garment as a compress to hold against my eye and to keep me from moving around.  She held my wound like that until we arrived at the doctor’s office and they took me to the back. 

I met the entire doctor’s office staff that day.  It took them all to hold me down while the doctor did his work.  Two shots and eight stitches later, the storm of terror passed and, for the first time in quite a while, I looked around the room and actually saw what was there.  I remember seeing the doctor, who looked very tired.  I saw my mom, who looked very relieved.  But what I remember best is Mrs. Kay.  One whole side of her new white housecoat, the side she had held against my torn flesh, was stained with blood.  Mom said, again and again, how sorry she was and that we would buy Mrs. Kay a new housecoat to replace this ruined one.  Mrs. Kay just smiled and said, “I don’t care about this, as long as he’s OK.” 

I lay there, looking at my neighbor covered in blood, wearing the biggest bloodiest stain I had ever seen and thought, “my wound did that to her and she didn’t mind.” Fifty years later, Nannie Kay and I are Facebook friends. 

This is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, a day that many Baptists don’t observe, but I’m glad that we do.  For as we begin our journey with Jesus to Jerusalem, to the Upper Room, to the Garden, to the cross, and to the tomb, one truth needs to be clearly written upon our hearts, “my wounds, Lord Jesus, did that to you.” 

Isaiah says it this way,

(Isaiah 53:6) We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.

Christ came to me when I was broken and bleeding, life itself slipping away.  He found me running wildly in the panic of my pain.  He wrapped his arms around me and held me close so that healing could begin.  He touched me where I was wounded, taking the bloody mess of my sins upon Himself.  He was willing to take the stain of my wounds upon Himself. 

As we come now to receive the mark of these ashes, carry this mark throughout this season,

I am a broken sinner. 

I need a Wonderful Savior.

One who, in love for me, bears the stain of my sins.  

A Family Blessed by Intensive Care

I wrote this for the St. Andrews Baptist Church family, but I'm proud to celebrate it's truth with all who will read it.

I learn the most in the classes I’d rather not take.  That was true for me in school and has been true for me in life.  My latest class was a family crisis, the joyful occasion of my grandson, Creighton’s birth, which was suddenly transformed into a week of intensive care.  Creighton spent a week in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit of Lexington Medical Center.  Our family received another kind of intensive care—the prayers and support of the SABC family. 

The day after Creighton’s birth, during a routine assessment, his nurse observed that he was breathing very rapidly.  After consulting with one of the hospital’s neonatologists, Creighton was whisked away to NICU before Josh and Elizabeth, Creighton’s parents, fully understood why.  Creighton inhaled some amniotic fluid during the birth process.  The fluid settled in his lungs, making his breathing shallow and inefficient.  The NICU staff monitored him closely, tested him thoroughly, and treated him effectively.  They surrounded him with loving care. 

While the doctors and nurses were doing their healing work for Creighton, the SABC family was doing the same for the Vaughan and Davison families.  Visits by church staff were frequent and helpful.  Assurances of prayer, cards of encouragement, offers to help, and homemade food flowed into our lives from so many of you.  Josh Davison reflected on your ministry by saying,

We are so grateful to both the staff and membership of SABC, for how they prayed for and supported our family, especially our precious baby boy, Creighton Brooks, during our stay at Lexington Medical Center.  All of the visits, calls, and gifts are evidence of the tremendous heart that the SABC family has for Christ and His children.  

Creighton made progress each day and now is at home with his parents and his big brother, Liam.  Now that the crisis is over, I can reflect upon what I learned in this class I would rather not have taken.  I saw your hearts, full of love.  I saw your hands, working to lift us up.  I heard your prayers, your trust in God and your earnest desire for Creighton to be healed.  Your ministry to us made a huge difference.  Your ministry to other families, facing critical life moments, will do the same.  My Elizabeth said, "We are so thankful for all of the visits, prayers, and calls.  Without them we would not have been able to make it through the week."