Bob's Blog

This is NOT my problem

2012-05-23T14:54:06Z

You're a few weeks into a new job (in this case, a position in youth ministry) and a $200 bill winds up on your desk from months ago. What will you do? The initial inclination might be to pass the buck. Certainly it was not a purchase that you were a part of, nor was it an invention of your own creative genius (benefit of the the doubt, here). But is there an opportunity here for more?

Same scenario, except this time instead of a bill that has found its way to your desk, a picture of a sponsored child has found its way into a busy drawer that you are working to clean out. Surely a commitment made by a large group that has failed to remember the longevity of this financial commitment, this child has since falled out of sight, and therefore out of mind. Again, the first response is to balk; to toss the papers in the trash, along with all the others that rightfully belong there. But again, is there an opportunity here for more?

In the past few days, moving offices and changing desks has provided me an opportunity to be confronted. These very situations have arisen, playing on my initial desires to add to my trash while attempting to keep my conscience clear. But here is what I found. These papers of financial commitments long-since passed have granted me the opportunity to build trusting ministry relationships in the present. As of now, we are now, as a ministry, up to date with our T-shirt order and have re-started our relationship with one of our previously well-liked providers. Also as of a few minutes ago, we have committed to paying current for our sponsored child while still allowing him to be sponsored by another individual or group. To hear the joy, even in the voice of the operator with whom I was speaking, was enough to challenge those initial desires to plead ignorance that dwell within me.

UnPlugged pt. 1

2012-05-14T13:46:19Z

One of the teachers of religious law was standing there listening to the debate. He realized that Jesus had answered well, so he asked, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?”

Jesus replied, “The most important commandment is this: ‘Listen, O Israel! The Lord our God is the one and only Lord. And you must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength.' The second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.' No other commandment is greater than these.”

Mark 12:28-31

In his New Testament teaching of the Greatest Commandment, Jesus expresses to religious teachers that it should be their aim to, quite simply, Love God and Love Others. He is not minimizing the other commandments delivered to God's people through Moses, but rather displaying that all the other commandments are and can be boiled down into these.

The utmost goal of the Christian today should also be these two commandments. They should be laced into the fabric of every thought and word. Every action should pass through the gauntlet of Loving God and Loving Others before there is even a hint of it taking place. These commandments should be the focal point of every follower of Jesus, and we, together, should hold one another accountable to them.

It is with this in mind that I ponder the impact that is being made on the fundamental principles of the Christian by the technology of the internet. It is easy to see the potential for Good that comes with a technology that bridges much of the world into a real-time conversation. It is foolish to immediately and incessantly claim harm on something that creates a venue for the renewing and growth of relationships. However, it is uninformed to deny the "dark closets" that exist in the million-dollar room that is the internet.

At this point, there are a whole lot of directions to go with the "dark closet" theme in mind, and maybe I'll continue down this path at another time, but I have been struck recently at how the walk and witness of the believer in Jesus seems to encompass every social area of life but that which is on the web. There is a mean part of us, a selfish and sarcastic part that we have long since buried below a pattern of healthy social habits, that rears itself only when the family computer begins to whir. I find myself guilty of this. I desire for my life to be about Loving God and Loving Others, and yet what thoughts I tweet or post on facebook are more about Loving Bob and Hating Others. My words are often harsh and harmful, and the times when I mean to be genuinely uplifting and encouraging are fearfully few and far between.

And while I may seem like one sinking in the water, pulling down others at the top, I know I'm not the only one. My links of social media are filled with Christian men and women typing words that bring death far more than they type words that bring life. So what can we do? How do we tame this beast that exists either within the nature of the web or (even scarier) within the nature of our very hearts when we get on the web? How can we get back to the basics of Loving God and Loving Others, and letting those commandments extend into our new communication technology?

Maybe we just need to get a little UnPlugged.

UnPlugged is a four-part sermon/blog series designed to simplify. Over the next few weeks, we will be discussing ways to simplify our purpose, simplify our company, and quite honestly, simplify our technology. The hope is not that we will minimize or eliminate our use of technology, but rather that we will, in the end, possess a plan or set of boundaries that help us Love God and Love Others in the web-arena.

Talking about Jesus: to First Graders and Teenagers

2012-05-07T14:21:48Z

My wife is a first grade teacher. Day in and day out, she heads off to her classroom at Granger Christian School and waits on a group of six year olds who look to her for everything. She loves her job. She constantly comes home with stories of how her students crack her up or how they've grown over the past several days/weeks/months.

Along with her love for this age range though, my wife carries a bit of anxiety when faced with students a bit out of her typical demographic. As we've prepared for our new position in Middle School and High School ministry, she has often told me how she isn't qualified to teach this age, and how she's nervous she won't "connect."

I tell you all of this about my wonderful wife so that I might also tell you this: Yesterday morning, my wife told me of a revelation that she had in regards to student ministry. I think this revelation is something that you should tell any youth volunteer who exhibits some nerves in taking on a new role.

"Talking to these [Middle School/High School] students about Jesus isn't all that different than talking to my first graders. The biggest difference is that my students will listen to whatever I say on their first day of school. These students just need time to know they can trust me before I can seize the opportunity to speak into their lives."

Working with teenagers isn't rocket science, but relationships aren't the easiest things either. Don't forget to let them "size you up" a bit relationally before you start inserting your voice into the mix of their influence.

Youth Ministry Rules: Not so Open and Shut

2012-05-02T14:09:54Z

Every youth ministry has rules. Sure, you can be teen-sensitive and call them guidelines. You can sugar them up to make them seem organic. There's even a chance that the rules do not limit much more than the law itself. But in the end, regardless of size and demographic, every youth group has a set of expectations in terms of how students are to behave.

I'm sitting here in my office on my second day as Avalon's Pastor of StuMin, and I find myself staring at a blank screen entitled "Student Ministry Guidelines." Now, this is not my first priority. I have relationships to build and names to remember; There are volunteers to meet and others to recruit. But as I use this school day in the office for paperwork purposes, I can't help but wonder, where is the balance between a properly guided code of conduct that creates an environment of freedom and openness and a set of expectations that closes our group to students that don't agree with it?

conVERGE 2012 Coming to a Close

2012-02-19T19:16:11Z

It's been an amazing couple of days here in Gull Lake, MI, where hundreds of students have gathered to see how faith and culture converge for leaders in areas of school, ministry, athletics, and entertainment. As a Track Leader at conVERGE2012, I've had the opportunity to speak with a few dozen high school students about how to led in their faith within the backdrop of sports culture. As we sit here in our final group session, I find myself growing in excitement for these students being released to re-engage with their culture.

I don't have time to write everything now...more notes to come, but would you join me in praying for the students of conVERGE2012 as they leave here this afternoon?

Happy Belated Birthday, Bob

2012-02-15T19:53:00Z

Have you ever remembered something to such a degree that you were 99% correct in your recollection, but you found out later that there was a 1% that you've been telling wrong for years? Well, that's what I just realized has been happening to me for 13 years. Until today, I have counted February 15th as my "re-birthday." I've believed that it was on that Saturday of 1999, at a teen conference in the suburbs of Dallas, Texas, when I first believed in the power of the blood of Jesus Christ and, in mind and through profession, trusted him as my Savior and Lord.

I remember so much about that day. I remember the friends with which I shared the experience. I remember Chris Tomlin performing. I remember breaking into a run down the aisle to meet leaders at the altar. But apparently I didn't really remember the date.

I just looked at a calendar of 1999 and found out that February 15th was not a Saturday. The Saturday to which my mind has been referring was actually February 13th (So, if any of you are thinking about giving me a cake tonight, please make sure to write "belated" before you write "birthday"). Regardless, it has been 13 years this week since the Lord called me out of darkness and into His wonderful Light. My ongoing pursuit of Christ has been far from perfect, but it has surely been purposeful.

I now find myself a spiritual teenager, independent enough to walk on my own, but still walking in recognition of my need for Jesus. I too often rebel, thinking I know all the answers, but I swallow my pride enough to "go to my room," and reset my priorities with Him. I pray that in all my days, not just on February 13th (or 15th, if I forget in my "old age"), I always recognize my need to continue my journey in, with, and for Him...

...And I pray that next year, you'd get me a chocolate cake.

Peace,
Bob

Relevance through Relationship

2012-02-13T20:41:31Z

I spoke at a ski retreat this past weekend for a group of local churches. As I often do when speaking to the same group more than once, I opened my first session with a little bit about my own personal journey. Now, over the years, I've gotten pretty good at doing this. I recognize that as my story gets longer, there comes a need to streamline the message of God's work in my life, trimming a bit of time from each of my often lengthy tales and fixiating on only a few life highlights. During my streamlined storytelling this past weekend, I chose for one to highlight my move from Massachusetts to Texas, referencing the year during which it happened, which sent me in a spiral from which I almost ne'er returned.

My family moved between my middle and high school years. That was back in 1998. I remember the trip as if it was yesterday, and I remember a lot about my life from those days. Still, that didn't fix the shock that came across my face when I realized, upon mentioning the year 1998, that I trekked the miles between Massachusetts and Texas before many of the students to which I was speaking were born. I froze. I looked nervously around the room and came up with a joke about how I must be getting old, and I finished by exhaling the words, "how am I still relevant?"

The good news from the weekend is that I finished strong. I preached as boldly as I could muster, and challenged this group of 12-17 year olds to walking in in the footsteps of Christ. The bad news form the weekend is that I was haunted, as I venture back into youth ministry, by the question of how I am going to be relevant to teenagers in the years that are still to come? It took a heart-to-heart with one of my RA's to finally allow me to breathe freely again.

I realize now that the role of a youth pastor is not to be the cool guy that relates to every student. I never held the illusion that I had to be that guy. If I was hired on the basis that I was cool, then Avalon Missionary Church is in for a rude awakening. I believe the role of the youth pastor is to be, among other things, available, accessible, and appropriately cool. My relevance has nothing to do with how well I share the same lingo or sense of humor, and everything to do with whether or not I am present when 1) I say I will be present, and 2) When I am needed to be present. It is through a long-term relationship that my relevance in the lives of students and young people will grow when a snapshot of age suggests it will diminish. It is with this notion of relevance through relationship, that I re-enter excitedly into the world of youth ministry. Here we go!

Peace,
Bob

Born-Again Mummies

2011-01-26T06:13:00Z

During Session #4 of Bethel College's World Christian Action Conference, our speaker Connie Bissen referenced a verse in John 11 when Jesus called Lazarus up and out of his tomb. While I failed to grasp the direction that Connie took this passage, I did spend a good deal of time reflecting on what implications it has for our lives as Believers.

"Then Jesus shouted, 'Lazarus, come out!'

And the dead man came out, his hands and

feet bound in graveclothes, his head wrapped

in a headcloth. Jesus told them, 'Unwrap him

and let him go!'" (John 11:43-44; NLT)

While driving back from the airport this morning, I listened to a pastor on the radio speak very frankly about being "born twice." I don't know his name, nor do I know his church, but I loved how simple he made it:

"You're either born once or born twice.

Born once, you're blind. Born twice, you can see.

Born once, you're lost. Born twice, you're found.

Born once, you belong to the Devil. Born twice, you belong to God.

Born once, you're dead. Born twice, you're alive."

As simple as this equation is, I know many of us struggle with what happens in our lives once we are "born twice." You see, like Lazarus we experience death to ourselves and receive resurrection through Christ. Too often though, we take off into our lives as newfound children still wearing the cloths we donned in the grave. We walk around our world as mummies, experiencing life, but we reak of our lives past. We do not allow the Lord to purge us of all our sinful nature and the things that tempt us backwards.

This is why Paul writes to the church in Colossae:

"...put to death the sinful, earthly things lurking

within you...You used to do these things when

your life was still part of this world...Put on your

new nature, and be renewed as you learn to

know your Creator and become like him." (Colossians 3:5,7,10; NLT)

So what are some of the cloths draping your body that have been with you since the grave? Do they exist in the form of relationships or circles of friends? Are they items or substances that, at one point, you couldn't live without? Are they possibly things that look very nice and ornate, things that look great in your second life, but things that God has called you to leave behind?

Lord, give us the strength to rid ourselves of these bindings. If we should lack the strength, give us the humility to ask others to unwrap us, so we may go. Thank you for this life eternal, for overcoming death, that we may have life.

Humbly His,

Bobby Morton

A group, a generation, a gender...of settlers?

2011-01-26T06:11:00Z

"What do you want to do, Bob?"

It's a question that I hear from almost every angle. Whether it is asked by friend or family member; colleague or college student; it is a question that I have wrestled with answering on a regular basis since I stepped away from youth ministry to further my education and pursue ministry at the collegiate level. I was asked the question again tonight, but none of the aforementioned groups did the asking...

Sitting in a seat in Bethel's Everest-Rohrer Auditorium, I was asked by Caleb Bislow to take a moment to "ShushUpAndListen." Following his sermon on how God moves us towards our mission and purpose, he allowed us time to seek where and how God would have us carry out such a mission. As I watched student after student make their way to the altar, I began to see they all had one thing in common. Each student that responded in the moment was a young woman. Even after a morning session where Caleb rebuked the men of Bethel College for being passive participants in God's world mission, none of them seemed emotionally connected to the message.

Now, I'm not assuming that every man in that place suffered from a stroke of disobedience, or that there weren't individuals responding in the quietness of their hearts and seats, but as Chandler Bing screams during a season 6 episode of FRIENDS, "where are all the men?!"

It was there in that moment, that I remembered the cause for which I stepped away from middle school ministry. My passion, or rather my burden is for these men who are stuck in a generation of undefined masculinity. Do I know what makes a man? Surely not to the extent I'd like to assume. However, I do know that the men I've been raised in Christ to emulate chose to stand and fight for something, rather than settling for nothing. It's my prayer that we don't raise and accompany a group, a generation, or a gender of settlers.

This ends my random thought of the night.

Humbly His,

Bob Morton

I'm Sweaty

2009-06-23T13:23:00Z

It feels good to sweat. I'm sitting outdoors, post-workout, in 90 degree heat, wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the sole purpose of feeling myself sweat a bit more. I don't know the exact rhyme or reason why I like it, but I just know it feels, whether through physical exertion or overheating, as though my body is being productive; as if something is being accomplished. It is a reminder that as hard as I've worked my body at times, my body is working me; that it's been designed to keep me cool and able to operate. But even more important than that, the sweat is a mark of success. It's as much an identification of hard work and tireless effort as any medal, plaque, or trophy could ever hope to be. I'll go back to my apartment tonight and admire the newly acquired stains on my favorite workout hoodie, knowing full well it is the sign of a day well spent...and a job well done. Yeah, I like to sweat. Hopefully, you'll see the marks on my life, both physically and spiritually.

1Timothy 4:7-8 (ESV)
"Have nothing to do with irreverant, silly myths. Rather, train yourself for godliness; for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also the life to come."

Why the hesitation?

2009-06-03T17:46:00Z

Have you ever been a part of something good, but you find yourself hesitating? I mean a part of something good and Godly, and you know it's meant to happen, but you find yourself acting fearful; fearful of what you might do, and fearful of what God might do to you. That's how I feel when I get together with my friend, Chris.

Chris and I are meeting every other Tuesday as part of an idea of accountability in the area of evangelism. The past couple meetings have been erratic, but truly blessed by God, as I find myself renewed over and over again. I love Chris, I love his ideas for life, and I love how he impacts my way of thinking and living. Every time I leave our time together, I feel as though I've been reignited for the cause of Christ. Why then, do I find myself hesitating?

I told you we meet every Tuesday night. What I left out was that every Tuesday afternoon, I find myself wanting to do something other than meet with him. I don't want to bail on him or leave him hanging, but I get distracted and busy. It frustrates me to think that the Devil has worked his way into my schedule, and I feel in need of a re-commitment of my time and energy, bringing it all back to a focus on the Lord.

I know it's been forever since my last post, and I know this isn't an in-depth reveal as to what's been going on in my life, but I want to use this blog as an avenue to communicate my heart...and that's how my heart feels today.

In love,

Bobby

Just a Redtail

2008-08-07T09:13:00Z

I was cruising through the quaint campus of Bethel College when I saw a bit of a humorous sight. A faculty member who I recognized from Noon Hoops (our Monday, Wednesday, Friday staff basketball club) was walking alongside the street waving a white towel. To provide a further visual, he wasn't waving it in a manner to get attention, but rather as an old country cook would shake a towel to shoo away pesky animals wanting a taste of newly baked creations. Needless to say, I had to put Valerie (my truck) in park and take in the sight.

A minute or two (or five) later, I saw what the faculty member was up to. He was chasing a hawk. That's right, a hawk! Now, you may be wondering how a man can chase a hawk on foot, while shaking a towel. Let me fill you in on the situation. Apparently the hawk had been resting on a telephone pole and received quite the shock from the power lines. Falling a few dozen feet took its toll, breaking the hawk's wing. The faculty member was, for lack of a better time, wrangling the hawk in an effort to save its life.

(Fast Forward)

Did you really think I would be able to stay in my car for this? No way! I got a bright blue towel out of my back seat and ran across the street in an effort to help catch this bird of prey. And guess what, we caught it! Well, let me clarify, the professor caught it. I merely stood there saying, "Get him! No, Now! Oh, you missed him! Oh, Oh, You Got Him!" I helped a lot. The conversation that took place while the hawk rested in the professor's arm (like a newborn baby) inspired this blog post.

Background info: I'm in awe of big birds. Other than Canadian Geese, which I'd like to see pass away in a violent fashion, I love birds that are bigger than my head. Their size makes me respect them even more. So with this bird merely inches from me, I'm fixated on it, and I couldn't help but giggle when I pet its head. The professor was much less excited than I. He has an extensive history with large birds, and he questioned whether or not this bird would even be accepted by the rehabilitator, because once rehabilitated, it would still not fly, and it wouldn't be accepted as a pet (which is legal). My giddy self asked why anyone would pass up on an opportunity to have such an amazing bird as a pet, and the professor filled me in on the fact that this was "Just a Redtail Hawk."

Now, I'm still a bit unsure what this means, but apparently it's a very common hawk, and therefore not a big deal. This flipped me out! I was head over heels in awe of this hawk, and it was just another bird to this professor. After the ordeal, as I drove home, I took an inventory of my life. What things do I have, see, or experience in my life that would cause other people in the world would flip out? And though I'm not criticizing this professor, because this is different, how have I allowed myself to become so accustomed to the extraordinary?! Here's the list I came up with. I hope you enjoy/relate and take an inventory of your life so that we can thank the Lord for the blessings we have but barely even see.

- a car bought made in the past 10 years
- two TVs
- surround sound
- laptop (currently using)
- leather furniture
- iPods (two)
- over 1500 songs
- 50+ DVDs
- 20+ pairs of shoes
- an entire dresser full of shirts (just shirts)
- cell phone (PDA no less)
- 3 meals a day
- Health Benefits
- clean drinking water
- hundreds of other drink choices
- clean meat
- 100+ owned books
- 15+ Bibles

How have I let myself look into the eyes of these hawks without standing in awe?

Love,

Bobby

Back from Nicaragua

2008-07-30T14:35:00Z

I'm back and quasi-recovered from my trip to Nicaragua. After a week of physical, emotional, and spiritual tests and trials, I still feel the need for a few extra days rest, but I also feel spiritually rejuvenated in a way that I haven't in quite some time. The week was filled with highs and lows, but even now, the lows are becoming harder and harder to remember.

Right now, I am in the midst of moving out of my office at Grace Church, but I have a drafted entry to post in the coming couple of days.

Hang tight 'til the weekend!

Bobby

Little Update

2008-07-16T17:50:00Z

Let me start by exclaiming that I am, in fact, alive! I praise God for his faithfulness in delivering me from any and all dangers in Jamaica and here in Indiana for the past few weeks. It has been quite some time since I have left you any pieces of my heart, but that has been with good cause. I have been in the midst of a vocational transition (job change), and I have wanted to profess this to my students by mouth prior to having it posted on the internet. Don't get too excited, though. I'm not going to give you too many juicy details today. In the coming days/week, you will have a recap of my trip to Jamaica, a summary of my trip to Nicaragua, and information about the job change, but today, I want to share with you a revelation that God granted me last night.

I'd heard through a friend that an old teammate of mine respected my 'game.' That may not seem like a lot, but for a washed-up has been like myself, it's good to know that someone that close to me thought highly of how I played. Hearing these words brought me back to my freshman year in college, when I was a redshirting 17 year old, watching the all-american Jeff Faine suit up week after week. You see, Jeff was all that was football. While others left the field early, he stayed to work on footwork. When other linemen ate pizzas and cake, he peeled the skin off his chicken breast. And when other linemen had mental lapses during a game, Jeff Faine hurt people...often. I wanted nothing but to play a game like Jeff Faine played it.

My sophomore year, I won the chance to play in Jeff's old spot, at center. I'll never forget that first game. Last night, I had a vivid memory of calling my dad after the game. "What did I look like, Dad?" was the question that spilled out time and time again, "How did I play the game?"

"Like Faine," he answered, "You played that game like Jeff." Oh, what wondrous words for my ears to hear. My dad thought I played the game like the one who taught me how to play it. That's where the reminiscing ceased. The Lord worked on my heart in such a way that I broke down last night. Thinking about that conversation with my dad, I realized that I have since stopped having that conversation with God.

"Father, did you see me? How did I look?"

"Like Jesus, son. You looked like Jesus."

Oh, what wondrous words they'd be to hear. That I have lived life, treated others, and loved like the One who has taught me how to do it. Jeff Faine was and is an amazing football player, but he pales in comparison to the mastery that Jesus has over this world. If only my mind would realize that daily.

Jamaica

2008-06-26T13:56:00Z

Have you ever experienced a person speaking out of both sides of their mouth? They tell you one thing, then lean over to someone else and say something completely different. In my short time today, I want to tell you that's how I feel about the country of Jamaica right now. I feel as though the culture of the country is double-talking. One moment, I'm "the Undertaker," a cool white dude who gets "peace and love" from the most random of people. The next moment, I'm a fat, balloon shaped, pistachio, who's only good for trying to pick a fight with (which has happened a few times).

It's been an emotionally trying trip thus far in Jamaica, and as we leave some civilization, I don't know what to expect. I don't know if I'll be more accepted, or less, more pressured with marijuana or less. All I know is that I'm prayed up, and read up, and I feel confident in my preparedness to take on the challenges in front of me.

Pray for our group in Jamaica. Michelle's dad is still in the hospital, but is now off life support, and Candace's boyfriend's mom underwent brain surgery this morning. My big prayer request is for the scratch I feel in the back of my throat...sorry to be so anticlimactic.

Peace and Love,

Bob

Moving day upcoming

2008-06-12T16:08:00Z

The date was July 1, 2005. The cohort in crime was Jeff Myers. The act was moving into a newly leased apartment on Winamac Lake at Indian Lakes Apartments in Mishawaka, IN. It was the first step I'd taken into a life of my own. I was still in college, but no longer on campus. I was still getting help footing the bill, but no longer from my parents. I was growing up, and that apartment would have a lot to do with it.

That year was possibly the best year of my life, to that point. Nights went late, movies were watched, music was listened to, the occasional stogie was sparked, and songs were sung referring to the sheer awkwardness that accompanied life. Granted, there was a short spell during which I had nightmares about someone breaking into the place, but that ended with an interesting and hilarious event involving me, a girl standing no taller than 5'2", and a near-death experience with a 3-iron. Those days couldn't last forever, though.

The next year was spent on the other side of Winamac Lake. I'd moved out of my first apartment and into a modified single, with a huge living room, so that my family would all have a space to stay when they came up to see me play for my 5th year at Notre Dame. My parents would take my room, my brother would take a futon, and I'd grab the couch. It was perfect, because they'd booked tickets for every home game. The only problem was, my dad didn't make it to the first game. I spent a year in that oversized apartment dealing with the feeling of being very alone. The last few months though, the Lord provided for that lack of fellowship I'd been experiencing.

The final two months on Winamac Lake were spent with a new roommate, who lived on a futon in the back half of the living room. Ryan and I met through some mutual friends and just hit it off. We actually leased a two bedroom place on the other side of Indian Lakes. We had moved into a place on Osage Lake (which isn't much of a lake at all...it looks like someone left the hose on for a few hours). The past year has been spent doing very little but sleeping in that apartment. Ryan and I get up, go to work, come back home, and go to bed. Occasionally we'll have a group of friends over for a BBQ, and sometimes I'll come home and he and his girlfriend will be eating dinner, but the majority of our time is spent elsewhere. That said, the times we've had in the apartment, while both awake...and coherent, have been a blast. But we've reached another turning point, as our lease ends in just over two weeks.

We'll be parting ways, Ryan and I, but I've gotten used to yearly changes in roomming situations. The big change for me is living somewhere other than Indian Lakes. I've grown accustomed to how things are done, how situations are handled, and how the people around me interact. It will be another new experience for me, moving to another location (to be revealed next week).

It excites me though, to be pushed out of my comfort zone. While my comfort allows me to do a lot, I wonder what it holds me back from doing. Maybe, just maybe this move will push my limits in other areas of life as well. So I ask you, are you comfortable? Maybe a little bit too comfortable?

You are Everything

2008-06-11T14:17:00Z

I sat in my office this morning and hit repeat on a song. I shut my door, turned up the volume, and dove into the truth of the lyrics to the Matthew West song, "You are Everything." There's so much beauty in the image that is cast by the words to the song, but I just couldn't get over the first few words of the chorus. "You are everything that I live for." You know, I live for so much junk, it hurts to admit. Money, security, gratification, popularity, humor, and the list goes on describing things that I live/have lived for in my life. How different could my life be tomorrow if I made the Lord everything and the only thing I lived for, today?

How might my relationships with others change? Would I spill moment after moment into their lives and refuse to look at it like some sort of investment with a future return? Maybe I could be called selfless for the first time of my life. Maybe, just maybe, we could experience the kind of fellowship together that makes outsiders glorify God, like in Acts 2.

How might my approach to my job change? If I'm no longer living to make a living, I release myself of financial expectations and enable myself to look at my job as so much more than a job. It becomes a means to live for God...a calling, if you will. How much more willing are we to work at a calling than work at an ordinary job? I can't imagine how that might change my daily impact.

How might my alone-time change? So often, I get run down, and I need to curl up on my chair with a good book, just to recuperate. If God is EVERYTHING that I live for, that alone time becomes much more a one-on-one time. I don't live to be alone. I live to have one-on-one moments with God during every part of my everyday. I would more faithfully and passionately dive into scripture and prayer, turning my life over to Him daily.

I came to my job this morning, ready to do an ordinary day's work, and the Lord changed my heart. How can we live for God alone today, and in our days to come?

Laugh, Cry, Hug, Love

2008-06-05T13:56:00Z

Okay look, I'm about to write a very serious note. It may seem as though I'm fishing for a response. I'm not. But if I want this blog to be about anything other than funny quips I come up with on a semi-regular basis, I've got to be real. Enjoy.

I've been struggling the past couple of months with the concept of fellowship. I've shared this before, and truth be told, I'll probably share it again, but it really bothers me that this isn't something I can just fix overnight. All I want is to go to bed knowing that when I wake up in the morning, I won't have the same issues to deal with the next day, and though I don't know if you've ever tried that, I'm here to tell you it doesn't work. Day in and day out, I still find myself trudging through life at a pace that pales in comparison to how I've lived my life before. Week in and week out, I attend both first and second services at Grace Church, just so I can see a few more faces for a few more hours before I go back to my house, fix myself a sandwich, and read a book. The whole thing is getting rather tired.

I am a creature of community. I love to be with people. I love to love on people. I just love people, in general. More recently though, I've found myself around people less and less as each day goes on. It's not like it's a terrible thing to be alone now and again. Since this whole time of life started, I've read more books than I'd read my entire life, I've spent more time in the Word than I'd been spending, I've journaled more than I'd care to admit, and I've washed every article of clothing I own. But though those things are worthy of excitement, I'd really rather put down a book and pick up a buddy.

I guess the question I ask is, "What kind of life am I living?" It has always been my desire to live a life of impact. Today, though, it feels more like I'm living a life of existence. I'm here, I'm listening, I'm alert, I'm only a phone call away, but if I were to skip out on a meeting with friends or a Sunday service, it wouldn't cross anyone's mind. And even if they did notice, would anyone pick up a phone and ask where I've been?

This sounds so selfish, now that I've taken the time to write it out. I should rejoice that the Lord has called me to some one-on-one time with Himself. It's just a bit difficult for me, is all. There's a lot going on. There are many laughs to be had, many tears to be shed, many hugs to be given, and much love to be shared. Sometimes, it's just hard to realize that when you're flyin' solo.

Laugh, cry, hug, and love,

Bob

Are you that graceful?

2008-06-02T15:20:00Z

My Saturday morning was spent planting privacy trees for the mother of my friend, Diana. Diana's aunt, Rhonda, helped me with a great deal of the work. Rhonda is a recently divorced mother of two, and a wonderful mother, if I do say so myself. Around the planting of the 5th tree, we began talking about our respective church homes, and I learned that she'd recently been anxious about returning to church, due to her moving away from her ex-husband. She told me how she'd called her pastor, and how embracing and graceful he'd been towards the situation. He'd told her one of the best lines I've ever heard about the nature of the church.

"The church can and should be a perfect entity comprised by, of, and for imperfect people."

How amazing is it that this man could cast aside any and all judgment and be the voice of Christ for this woman? Are you that graceful?

Pop Quiz

2008-05-28T14:33:00Z

I did not get along with my sixth grade teacher. Her name was Mrs. Thompson and we called her "Mrs. T." Please understand, she did not ask us to call her Mrs. T, nor did she really appreciate the nickname, but we called her Mrs. T because we used to "pity the fool" (presumably Mr. T) who had to deal with her after school was over.

I can no longer remember what began my sour relationship with Mrs. T, but I do remember not being alone in my distaste for her class. Be that as it may have been, I guess I went a bit over the top, because it was in her class that I was sent home with my first tarnished report card. Now, you may figure that I am referring to Bobby's first 'B,' but I'd already knocked that one out the year before, when I failed a math test due to my color-blind eyes confusing every red/green bar graph (long story, we fixed the grade). No, when I say tarnished report card, I meant in the 'Comments' section that goes along with the grade. On a yearly basis, my report cards read words such as "wonderful," or "super student!" I knew I was going to get an 'A,' so the comments section added a bit more anticipation. I could have never anticipated the words she'd write. The comment section I brought home that day read one word..."Belligerent."

Belligerent...wow. I didn't even know what the word meant at the time, but I still felt as though a knife had ripped through my heart. I knew that no such word could ever have been created to mean anything good. But I wasn't left in the dark for long. Believe you me, my parents took plenty of time to explain what that word had meant, and inform me that "Belligerent Bob" was not an alliteration I should be comfortable with.

After and entire Christmas break of my parents telling friends and family about the report card (all the while, flashing intense glares in my direction) it was time to return to Mrs. T's room, for English class. I should probably take the time to inform you of another reason we didn't like her class, which derived from her persistently random (2 pts for an oxymoron) pop quizzes. I don't like pop quizzes. Academically, I don't agree with them either, especially at the 6th grade level. But my opinion counted for naught, and for that year, I constantly wondered if I'd be quizzed upon my arrival to her room.

That wonder and fear changed entering the second semester of that year. I remember vividly walking into her classroom daily, with a newfound determination to defeat my nemesis and her surprise quizzes. Her sneak attacks would no longer work on me. It wasn't about just victory, either. It was about domination. I would take a quiz in my hand and begin, furiously writing, erasing, rewriting, and turning in papers as fast as I possibly could. I remember one day turning in her quiz before she'd finished passing them out. I was determined not only to succeed, but I also felt I had something to prove.

Living life with something to gain and something to prove was excellent motivation, even for a 6th grader. But still, you may be wondering what that has to do with life for adults or why I'm even bringing this about. The truth is, though we should think much more highly of our Teacher in life, our lives, like my 6th grade year will be chocked full of "pop quizzes." We will never wake up in the morning knowing in which ways we will be tested. We can never be fully expectant of the trials and tests which we will face. But though we cannot be certain of exactly when and how we will be tested and tried, we can be certain that it will indeed happen. That knowledge can/should lead us into intense preparation and training, putting any work a 6th grader might accomplish to shame.

There will be a test alright, and this time around, there's no way to be saved by the bell.

In love,

Bob

An excerpt from "If" by Amy Carmichael...

If...
     I asked to be delivered from trial rather
               than for deliverance out of it,
          to the praise of His glory;
     if I forget that the way of the cross leads
               to the cross
          and not to a bank of flowers;
     if I regulate my life on these lines,
          or even unconsciously my thinking,
          so that I am surprised when the way
               is rough and think it strange, though
               the word is, "Think it not strange,"
               "Count it all joy,"
...Then I know nothing of Calvary love.