Father, Son, and a Flat Tire

Men are constantly searching for validation. As Eldredge once wrote, “Men will spend all of their lives asking the question, ‘Do I have what it takes? Can I come through when it counts?”

Our culture and society offer us men a cheap counterfeit when it comes to validation these days: power and/or affluence. Holding a place of authority, owning a padded bank account, or the seductive combo of both is the popular answer to our question. The problem is these things aren’t rooted in anything deep or meaningful. They are a topical ointment covering up deeper issues of our hearts.

I get super excited and feel good when I have an energizing meeting at work, sell a few memberships, or have a good session with a new client. But the emotional high wears off after a few hours and not much internally has shifted for me. These things aren't necessarily bad, they just aren’t enough. Ultra success via drivenness at work and finances isn’t what we need.

We need something more.

We need a flat tire on an unimportant Thursday morning in February. We need that Thursday morning to be about -7 degrees with a slight breeze. And we need the oh shit factor.

God gave me this exact scenario today. My oh shit factor? It went something like this:

“I know how to change a flat...I’ve just never actually done it before--all by myself anyway.”

My oh shit factor quickly went from insecurity, anger, and depression to something a bit more settled and confident.

I can't quite explain it. It wasn't swagger.

It was a slowly growing assurance in one simple but profound truth I continue to lean into: There is a Father. I am his son. And he loves to initiate me deeper into genuine masculinity.

So I threw on some leather work gloves my dad bought me, borrowed a car jack from one of my generalist mentors, and ventured out into the frozen tundra they call Kirksville Missouri.

And I changed that stinkin' tire. I got more than a delicious emotional buzz I get from a good day at the office. That’s a counterfeit.

I got the real deal. I got validation in the truest sense.

Morgan Snyder sums up the current state of most men in America today: “We've outsourced masculinity.”

We seek our validation by specializing in one specific skill set that we are gifted at, and outsource everything else. To put it simply we’ve gone limp---we’re soft serve ice cream.

Leaky faucet? Piss on that. Call the plumber.

Broken light switch? Don’t have time for that. Call the electrician.

Shrubs need tending to? Let me call the local landscape grunts.

Men pursue lives of comfort and insulate themselves by making enough money to outsource the very things that make us men. Take the wealthy businessman for example. He has enough money to outsource any hindrance and doesn't have to “worry about a thing.” It looks like strength from the outside, but its a house of cards. Inside something atrophies in our masculine hearts when we don’t have mastery over things we own. It isn't about being the ultimate handyman, its about a shift in the way we view our world. It's about a shift in the way we view adversity whether it's a flat tire or a failed marriage. It is in the disruptions of adversity--big and small--that our character is forged and our masculinity strengthened.

“I don’t fish. I don't golf. I don’t cut the lawn. Football is my life.”- Joe Paterno.
Joe Pa didn't have time to be humbled by the disruptions of changing the oil in his car or cutting his own lawn--He was too busy winning football games.

His ability to lead and coach was extraordinary. One of the best of all time, without question. Unfortunately, 70+ years of fierce mastery over his profession didn't translate to 70+ years of fierce mastery over his own heart and soul.

Success without a good heart and deeply rooted character is actually the worst kind of failure.

Joe faced a rather dark issue, an issue I hope I never have to face as a coach. But he turned his back when his strength as a man was needed most. The problem was he had no strength to offer as a man. Football was his life. He quite literally had no capacity to speak up or say anything on behalf of the young man being sexually abused by a coach on his staff. In the face of a circumstance that desperately needed him to be a man, he was paralyzed.

Work, money or a combination of the two never answer our question. And when we take our question to these two arenas, it not only harms us but harms others.

Only the Original Source of masculinity can bestow the deeply genuine and personal validation our hearts crave. 

We are his sons. He is our Father. Run to him.

***Note: This post was only made possible through the strong life that Morgan Snyder courageously leads. He is a good man and he is full of life. His blog and podcasts are definitely worth your time. They have nourished me on my journey to becoming a man. Check them out here ->http://www.becomegoodsoil.com/ ***

Was it really 'Just a game?'

A large majority of my life I have heard many people refer to sports with a classic and popular cliche that goes something like, It's just a game. 

Bullshit.

It's not, as the old saying goes, just a game. Sports have and never will be just a game, nor were they created or intended to be mere 'games'. With the exception of my marriage, sports have and always will hold some of the most meaningful and important pieces of my life. Some of my dearest memories and most life shaping moments have come in the arena of sports and competition. I used to be a little embarrassed by this truth I held in my heart. I felt as if my love of sport was nothing more than an empty addiction of which I should be extremely ashamed of.

You're that guy. Obsessed with meaningless child's play. Grow the hell up and move on with your life. 

But it was around 10:03 pm last night that I started to yet again be reminded that there is something very good about my love of sports. I was absolutely exhausted and was sleepily watching the Royals game. Just 40 minutes earlier, I had mentioned to Samantha that I struggle getting into baseball anymore. But there I was, one exhilarating inning and a handful of hard earned runs later, wide awake. My senses were tingling. Palms sweating and body temperature rising. My heart felt alive, young and invincible.

Whoa what just happened? How do I go from just barely conscious to absolutely bursting with life?

And I realized yet again the Father and his angels were on yet another rescue mission for my heart. Like Tom Hanks and the boys from Saving Private Ryan, he's on a risky mission to wake me up from the spiritual slumber stemming from a culture of constant busyness and routine that we simply accept as 'life'. Papa was enticing me, waking me, inviting me out of the mundane of business meetings, bills, and paperwork, and calling me up into my indisputable place in his Story.

The truth is God has been using sports for ages to stir the hearts of his beloved sons and daughters. But He has never done more so than now. In an age in which evil and suffering seems to be rampaging, and a pace of living assaults the life our deep hearts, God gives us sports as a doorway to re-enter his Kingdom again and again. He gives us the raw passion and energy of the opening kickoff of a football game to ignite desire in our hearts. He gives us the excitement of stolen bases, wild pitches, and walk off hits to stir joy in our souls. And He gives us the unlikely comeback in extra innings to restore deep hope to every fiber of our being.

Last night the Cardiac Kids that call themselves the Royals went extra innings with the A's and won a pulse pounding contest that no one can stop talking about. And it was more than just a game. It was the Father ministering deeply to our weary and exhausted souls.

It's a wildly scandalous plan to save his beloved.

And its working.

John Muir once said, "I'd rather be in the mountains thinking of God, than at church thinking of the mountains."

I would much rather be at the game experiencing the Father than at church thinking of the game.

Why I Love Tim Duncan

Exactly one year ago I became a huge Tim Duncan fan.

I'm not too big on LeBron or the Heat for a lot of reasons. But this post isn't about LeBron being soft or the Heat being entitled.

It's about Timmy D. Now I know- Tim wears terrible jeans and probably owns more goofy old navy t shirts than even myself. But his heart is tremendous.

Last Father's day, the Spurs were playing the Heat in game 6. I plopped down on the LA-Z-BOY just as half time of last year's game 6 began. And what I saw forced my heart to leap within my chest.

Tim Duncan was sitting on the hallway floor outside his teams locker room, playing with his three children.

AT HALFTIME OF GAME 6 OF THE NBA FINALS.

In that moment I knew Tim Duncan's actions were a living portrait of the Father's heart for us.

We live in a world of absolute unbelief. We say we believe in God, but at core, a majority of us think he's just to busy to give a rip about us. I mean, come on. He's God. He's real, sure, but he's got a lot of shit on his plate. He's not too concerned or invested in me.

It's not true. God is a good Father, a great Dad. The Best Papa we could ever experience.

If Tim Duncan isn't too busy to play with his children at halftime of the NBA FINALS, surely the Father is not too busy to care deeply for us and engage our hearts with personal affection. The Father is never too busy for us. Never.

Go ahead and ask the Father if he would like to hang out. You just might be surprised how he answers.

Fierce Commitment?

Sometimes I am completely flabbergasted by the commitment of God to Father me and bring joy to me as a son. My complete shock reveals a rather sad doubt in my heart as to how good of a Daddy my God really is. Slowly but surely, He is knocking down the walls of doubt in my heart and bringing me more deeply into Sonship. 

I have the privilege of being a personal trainer to many male clients who are older than me. To say this job is exactly what my heart needed would be an understatement. To stand in the presence of a man older than me, a man who has lived more life is powerful, restoring. There is something jumping for joy in my heart when an older man offers wisdom, advice, or even a piece of dry humor to me. Day after day, workout after workout I have experienced the Father's heart for me in ever increasing measure through the words, thoughts, and hearts of the men I train.  

I could post a blog a day for a whole month straight with the countless examples of how God is bringing me more deeply into manhood through the group of men I train on a daily basis.

I just recently finished training a 77 year old, firecracker of a retired math professor. He is kind, warm and caring. He is winsome and quite funny. And today, God Fathered me through him. 

Somehow our conversation took a turn toward the subject of fishing. He told me of his love of fishing, and how recently he has not had the motivation to fish any longer due to the loss of his long time fishing buddy and best friend. I sensed God extending me an invitation to join Him out on the water with a more seasoned fisherman than I. My client and I have agreed on getting together to fish starting in May. 

The beauty of this story is enough to make me weep. I have always wanted to fish, to learn the tricks of the trade, to hook the big one. Since the beginning of college God has slowly and surely equipped me to do so. My own grandfather is an avid fisherman, and has graciously given me all of the essential equipment to fish: Tackle box, lure, rod and reel, line etc. But due to physical distance, time, and his declining health, I haven't ever been fishing with my grandpa to learn the way. Other older men and friends in my life have taught me other skills necessary to fish, but I am still missing the essential ingredient to becoming a fisherman: experience. 

And here I am, almost 5 years later about to finally get the priceless experience of entering into life much more wild than my climate controlled building of employment. I have made plenty of excuses as to why I don't have 'time' to fish, dismissing my hearts deeper desire. 

As my client and I spoke about setting up a time to begin our endeavor, I could feel the pull to dismiss my desire once again. 'This is going to be another thing on my schedule...another thing taking from my time'

And in classic timing, my client turned to me with a mischievously enthused grin and uttered:

"I have an expression for fishing...A day spent fishing does not count against your allotted days on earth.."

So the Father delivered the final blow to my idol of busyness and capital gain with one of the more holy expressions I have ever heard from an older man. 

John Eldredge wrote that "God is fiercely committed to you, to the restoration and release of your masculine heart...and He is committed to bringing us back to the original design."  

The original design for me, as made in the wild and powerful image of God, being to rule over his created world in power and profound strength (Genesis 1:28). To borrow wisdom from Morgan Snyder, the original meaning of the word rule in this passage from Genesis, is actually translated as a fierce mastery. Fierce mastery. That is the original design God our Father is so fiercely committed in restoring us to. 

So I reckon I'll make time to go rule over the fish of the Adair County waters alongside my caring, humble, and wise guide who has promised to 'teach me everything he knows.' I sense the Father rather generously planning to restore both my client and I through time spent on the water together.

These upcoming fishing adventures, my client and I will not be 77 and 23 years old respectively. We won't be a retired math professor and an inexperienced business manager. Instead, we will both be--for a few glorious hours on weekends--sons. Son's being cared for by our Father. He is a much needed wise and seasoned guide for me in my masculine journey. And I am a gift to him from the Father--a fishing buddy to once more bring him out on the water, and bring him a bit closer to his original design. 

And so, Mr. Eldredge I respectfully disagree with your thought on God being 'fiercely committed' to our restoration of original design.

I think 'fiercely committed' is a gargantuan understatement. 

For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father.  -Romans 8:15

Spring is on its way

Winters in Kirksville suck.

This one has been particularly brutal. But yesterday the temperature jumped up to a whopping 40 something degrees. And it felt amazing; it felt like spring. I took Grigsby out for his late afternoon walk as the sun was setting in the west, revealing a picture of breathtaking hues. Purples, pinks, oranges and heavenly golds were thrown rather creatively into the sky. A light but slightly warm breeze kissed my face. It was not typical for Adair County in late February, and it had the scent of the coming spring.

Spring is on its way. Though the winter grays of February seem to dominate our experience, Spring is on its way and with it a reminder bursting with hope: The Kingdom is on its way, right around the corner if you will.

The restoration of green grass, budding flowers, and flourishing trees are a picture to a deeper reality. The reality that someday--someday soon even--Jesus will usher in his Kingdom, and with it innumerable joys.

Laughter. Life. Intimacy. Beauty. Joy. Healing. Complete Restoration of our deepest brokenness and disappointments. Most of all, an uninterrupted communion with God our Father and Jesus our Friend. I simply cannot wait.

Samantha and I walked to the large field next to our home and sat down with our pup to enjoy the gift of Beauty our Father had lavished onto Northeast Missouri. We drank in the view, and something in our hearts breathed a sigh of relief. We were ok. If the One who handcrafted that beauty of a sunset was also our Daddy, then we were going to be ok. More than ok. His heart for us is beyond good.

After the sun dove down behind the horizon, Samantha and I went to grab a gyro and feta fries from the square. While eating our dinner I asked Samantha to name her top three moments of her life. She quickly rattled off a whole slew of her favorite memories, a lot more than three. Our wedding. My proposal. A game winning hit against Illinois State. Bucketfulls of laughter with her teammates.

A few of mine included: Our wedding. My bachelor party. Our honeymoon. A slip screen from the 5 yard line to tie the game, thanks to a salty move by Garret White.

Samantha and I laughed heartily as we reminisced. Usually we remember our great moments with a touch of resignation and a thought something along the lines of "Those were great times. But they're long gone now. They're over."

But this time Samantha and I weren't discouraged or cynical. Thanks to a subtle but well timed reminder of Beauty from our Great God, we knew with confidence that the Kingdom will come, that the Kingdom of God will abolish the word over. Because in the Kingdom, Life never ends, and neither will the immense joy that awaits us on the other side.

Oh yes. Spring is on its way.

And so is His Kingdom.

Groomsmen Part 7: The Italian Stallion. Not if. But when.

Antonio Vincenzo Pucci. (POO-CHEE). Also goes by Tony Pucci and or Pooch.

Pooch was one of my roommates at Truman and was a slot receiver with some dynamite route running and catching capabilities. I am gonna miss throwin corner routes to him very badly. Like the other two dudes who were my roomies over the majority of my college time, I deeply treasure my friendship with him. I know that no words I write will do any of my groomsmen justice as to how much they mean to me, and this post will be no different. But its worth a try. 

Pucci was a constant reminder of the constant presence of Jesus in my life. And he too understood my heart and struggles, because he had the same heart and endured the same struggles.

But the thing about Pooch that I love most is his deep desire and longing for something better. 

Now this Desire of his is also one of the things that pisses me off the most about him. We could have the best 5 course meal in the history of college thanksgiving dinners, and he would still manage to say something like, "The turkey was good, but a little dry."  "It would have been perfect if we had stuffing" Or even "The green bean casserole was too soupy" 
Now, at first it seemed like Pucci was just nitpicking. And I'm sure there is a part of it that is just nitpicking. But upon further review, the ruling on the field has been over turned: The man simply knows deeply how life is supposed to be. He knows the kind of life and joy God handcrafted his heart to experience. Anything less is well, not very satisfying.  Pucci is driven by desire, driven by his desire for joy, love, laughter, tender thanksgiving turkey, and a meaningful life. 

I can't help but look back on all of our times at Truman and see that suffering was the classroom God used for our divine education. And lets just say the Father taught us both quite a bit. I read that sentence and I cringe. Yet I know how essential suffering was to our growth and development as men. Its kind of like working out a muscle. To achieve the greatest muscle growth and to adapt the greatest strength, there must be a tremendous amount of stress put on the muscle. The muscle must suffer, must fail and fatigue to adapt and become stronger. At the time its not fun, but suffering has been the one thing God has used to produce the most goodness in Pucci and I's lives. 

Anyway, much like myself, Pucci's time at Truman was littered with suffering. He lost a close friend to an unexpected death. His football career was less than satisfying. 

Its safe to say Jesus understands how Pooch felt. He too lost his cousin and dear friend, to a brutal beheading even. Jesus' own brothers doubted who he was, didn't believe in him. Another close friend betrayed Jesus to his death. Throw in the exhausting death march and 6 hours hanging on a cross and I think we can agree Jesus suffered. The question I have is how did he live his life so well in the face of so much suffering? 

The answer is Desire. His profound, deep, unshaken desire for his victory. His desire for the Life and freedom of people like you and me. His deep longing for his homecoming reunion with his Father. Desire is the driving force behind Christs life. 

Much like Jesus was, Pucci is a man who lives from the desires of his heart, the desire for more goodness, more joy. A rather risky but utterly holy way to live. Pucci has stolen a page from Jesus' book here. 

"Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how I have longed to bring you to myself..." (Matthew 23:37)

"And Jesus said to them, 'I have eagerly desired to eat this meal with you." (Luke 22:15)

Jesus is indeed a man of profound longing and desire. His heart overflows with passionate desire. 

"Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long list of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!" (Hebrews 12:1-2, the message)

Oh yes. Jesus knew where he was from, and he knew most importantly where he was going. He was Gods dearly loved son, and he was on a journey to reunite with his Father in victory after he defeated the evil one once and for all. He was on his way to a joyous homecoming celebration in which he would be deeply honored and rewarded for his sufferings. It was this joy set before him that kept our Savior going. 

I see the same thing in my friend Pucci. Now I am not saying every time adversity or tragedy hits Pucci handles it perfectly. I am not saying that each time he endures a season of suffering, he immediately puts his hope and desire in the day of his complete restoration and freedom. What I am saying is this: Puccis deep longings and desires are good, holy even. His honest and willing heart that is so willing to thirst and hunger and want more is something I deeply admire about him. Because it too will be the driving force of his life. Like Jesus, the deep desire of Pucci will allow him to walk through any suffering this life has to throw at him, and come out a better man on the other side. But most importantly, Pucci's deep desire and longing for Life, Joy, Intimacy, Love, and a meaningful life will ultimately lead him, rather violently to God. 

And if he lets his desire take him to the Father, there is no question he will live a very powerful life. If he lets his desire drive him home to the Father, he indeed will live life to the fullest. 

Excuse me. Let me correct myself. When Pucci lets his deep desire drive him to the Father, he will live a very powerful life. I already see in him the heart and desires of Christ. There is no doubt in my mind about the kind of joyous meaningful life he will be living in 10+ years. 

It's not really a question of if, but when. 

And that's why I love him. 

Groomsmen Part 6: CRH III

Charlie Ringo Heinzmann. The Third. The man, the myth, the legend. He was by far my closest friend in my time at Truman and is splitting best man duties with Jack Klein in just 8 short days. 

I mean, you know when a guys middle name is Ringo, you got yourself a gem. In all honesty, this has been one of my hardest posts to write. For the simple fact that I know words can do no justice to the value of my friendship with him. So, instead of beatin around the bush I'll just get right into why I love old Chuck Ringo. 

Charlies from the picturesque town of Metamora located in the beautiful state of Illinois. It is a mirror image to my hometown of Kearney, just slightly smaller in size. The town revolves around the high school and its athletics teams much like Kearney. And they love their football in Metamora, having a storied winning tradition much like Kearney. We are from the same type of town, and we are the same type of guys. 

Charlie and I both enjoyed some success in our high school football careers, and brought with us a common attitude to Truman State Football that went something like this: "I'm gonna start for 3+ years and show these dudes what it takes to win. I'm gonna be a reason Truman Football turns things around." 

And though Truman had their first winning season in a while this past year, it didn't exactly happen how Chuck or I thought it would. Neither of us started as quickly as we desperately wanted to. We didn't enjoy team success or the turnaround we wanted. And Charlie tore his ACL. Twice. 

Even though I was fortunate to not have any serious injuries in my career, It's safe to say Charlie and I shared very similar frustrations and setbacks regarding football. We came in with the same mindset and attitude, and were disappointed by the same things. I won't go into any details, because quite frankly the details do not really matter. What matters is this: Charlie understood exactly how I felt. He understood with perfection my every longing, desire, dream, and let down because he had the same ones. This is, in my opinion, one of the most tremendous qualities of Jesus' personality. I'll let Eldredge take it from here:

"A notion has crept into our perceptions of Jesus. And this notion has done great damage to our experience of him. Its the notion that Jesus was really ''pretending'' when he presented himself as a man. We hold fast to the belief that Jesus was God. The heroic actions and miracles of his life attest to it. So, when we read the more human moments of Jesus' life, we feel that Jesus was sort of.....cheating. With a nod and a wink, we know whats really going on...Einstein just dropped in to take the first grade math quiz. Mozart is playing the flute for the kindergarten choir. After all, we're talking about Jesus here. The guy walked on water, raised Lazarus from the dead. He never broke a sweat right? But what about that terrible sweat in Gethsemane? 
Then he went to Gethsemane. He took Peter, James, and John along with him, and he began to be deeply distressed and troubled. "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here with me." Jesus said to them. And then he fell down and prayed, "Abba Father, if its possible, take this suffering from me." And being in anguish he prayed more fiercely, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground. (Mark 14:22, Luke 22:44) 
Deeply distressed. Overwhelmed with sorrow. Anguished. This doesn't sound like someone cheating to me.He begs his Father, with tears, that this cup might pass from him. he doesn't want to do it. Sweat like blood puring from his tormented brow. Does this sound like Einstein adding two and two? 
Jesus was human. Really. When Jesus gets word his cousin and dear friend John has been beheaded what does he do? He takes a boat, leaves the crowds behind, and sails some place he can be alone. The man needed to get away, needed to grieve, just as you would. I cannot say this more emphatically--life affected Jesus. He never did anything halfheartedly. When he embraced our humanity, he didn't pull a fast one by making a show of it. He embraced our humanity so fully and totally he was able to die. God can't die. But Jesus did. 
It will do your heart good to discover Jesus shares in your humanity....The more we can grasp his humanity, the more we will find someone we can approach, know, love, trust, and adore."  (Beautiful Outlaw)

Now all of the 3 amigos (Pooch, Dusty and Chuck) had this characteristic as well. But Charlie embodied this piece of Jesus to a deeper personal level for me. Like Jesus, he didn't just take on my struggle, he knew my struggle. Knew what I was feeling, what I was going through, what I was fighting against. To have such a friend that knows exactly how you feel is unspeakably valuable to the human heart. 

You don't have to be misunderstood. Ever. Jesus got pissed. Jesus laughed. Jesus farted. Jesus got hungry and thirsty. He needed to sleep. Jesus cried. He felt loneliness, rejection, longing. He felt the whole range of human emotion and feeling. Joy, weakness, sorrow. 

Chuck was a daily reminder of my Jesus friend who understands me exactly and perfectly. And that's why I love Charlie Heinzmann. 

Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity....Jesus took on flesh, and made his dwelling among us. (Hebrews 2:14, John 1:14)

Groomsmen Part 5: The Carpenter from North Polk

Me and Charlie had just got home for the day as we trotted across our back deck when we noticed something a little bit odd. There were three or four chunks of wood that had apparently been sawed off recently. "What happened here? What the hell is Dustin up to now?," Charlie asked. We both chuckled and shook our heads, knowing for a fact that the notorious Mr. Fix-it they call Dustin was at it again, performing another self appointed project. Our house handyman, Dustin also enjoyed taking on any home improvement tasks he could. Raised on a farm in the golden lush beauty of Iowa, Dustin Howard was a problem solver of all house maintenance issues.....most of the time. He was for all intensive purposes, the Carpenter of 1203 E Randolph, the one man fix-it (or wrecking) crew. 

To put it simply, Dustin increased the quality of life for our house the last few years. He took joy in fixing all things big or small. 

Light fixture malfunction? Call Dustin. 

Recliner all jacked up? Yea I'm gonna order some parts. 

Coffee table leg broken? Tell ole Dusty. 

I remember one time coming back from a break, Dustin stumbled in the kitchen doorway carrying an ancient but MASSIVE microwave. I mean this thing had to be 3 foot tall and 3 foot wide. Mind you the microwave we had worked just fine. "Yea I got this from the rents," he explained excitedly. "Figured we'll be able to microwave way more shit in this thing!"

I may have embellished a bit about how big it was, but still. Regardless, the microwave was just one of many instances in which Dusty was simply increasing our quality of life. And he absolutely LOVED doing this just as he loved fixing mishaps big and small. It was his joy, simply the kind of guy he is. 

Strikingly similar to my friend Jesus. Little did I know what was really going on the past 4 years-- The Carpenter from Nazareth was using the Carpenter from North Polk to visit me more than a few times. 

Like Dustin, Jesus takes great delight in simply making our lives better. Jesus did after all say he came to give us life. "I have come so that they may have life and have it in abundance." (John 10:10)  Notice what Jesus DIDN'T say. He did not say "I have come so that they may behave better." He did not say "I have come that they may vote republican." Life. LIFE is what he came for friends, and life in abundance. Like Dustin, Jesus also enjoys fixing things that are broken. Its safe to say Jesus could fix up a crummy coffee table, he was a carpenter after all. But he most definitely majors in fixing people who are deeply broken. He takes the broken pieces of our lives and rather delightfully fixes them, if we will invite him to do so. He loves giving us more life, and more joy. 

"Well I believe in this Jesus dude, I can dig him. Why doesn't he just give me __________?" Fill in the blank. 

Well that's pretty simple. Jesus would much rather be first and foremost your dear friend, than just your Mr. fix it. This isn't a prosperity gospel. You don't follow rules, say a few heartless prayers, and get the Life to the fullest that Jesus is talking about. The secret is this: The abundant life Jesus is talking about is actually only found in friendship with him. The rest of the stuff, the massive microwaves and whatnot of our friendship with Jesus is just icing on the cake. 

The real joy of my friendship with Dustin isn't that he fixed about everything possible in our house and took care of getting us above average satellite services. The joy of my friendship with Dustin came from times of life shared over a meal, a few bud lights, or shootin some hoops in the driveway. If all I did was bother Dustin about fixing random crap in my house, we probably wouldn't be too close. The same holds true of our relationship with Jesus.

Now my friendship with the Blonde Bomber and his handyman talents are only a small part of the reason I love the guy. 

The piece of Jesus that I got to experience via Dustin Howard is a fairly simple, but profound one: his constant presence. My 4 and a half years at Truman were in large part, difficult. Disappointment and suffering seemed to be the theme of my college years. And all that being said, I wouldn't trade any of it for the world, because I didn't have to go through any of it alone. Now Charlie and Pooch both embodied the constant presence of Jesus to me also. Those two rascals and Dusty are the reasons I would do the whole Truman thing over again. 

But Dustin was with me since day bleeping one. He has been my roommate since the legendary days of room 555 in Centennial hall. He was there for a whole semester of the one they call BENJI. Start to finish, Dustin was simply there, everyday of my time at Truman. 

Now I know, Dustin laying on the living room couch playing Skyrim each morning I got home from work, isn't exactly groundshakingly meaningful. It wasn't life changing. But coming home to a bro-greeting and an inquiry about how work went was heck of a lot better than coming home to an empty living room. 

Similarly, sometimes being friends with and following Jesus isn't always laced with earth shattering wisdom and insight. At times it is, without a question. But sometimes, Jesus is simply there, following through on his promise to be with us always, to the bitter end. Dustin was a constant reminder of Jesus' constant presence in my life. And that's why I love Dustin Howard. 

And remember, I am with you always, to the very end. - Matthew 28:20

Groomsmen part 4: A little Jack and alot of Jesus

For those of you who didn't read my whiskey at the wedding post, I occasionally enjoy a little Jack Daniels in my coke. And I was reminded Tuesday night that I enjoy, more than occasionally, a little Jack Klein in my life.

I believe God brought me to Truman for a number of reasons. Recently I was reminded of one of the biggest reasons he did so. My friendship with Jack Klein.

I was feeling pretty tired, exhausted from a long day that included a final presentation for Marketing and lots of tending to Grigsby.

Anyways I was just getting ready to wind down for the evening when my dude Jack called me. I had completely forgot that we had set up a phone date for 8 pm on this particular Tuesday night. The phone call was exactly what I needed. But before I get into all that fun stuff, I'll give you a brief history of how I met this stallion they call Jack Klein. 

Jack and I were in the same recruiting class at Truman. He played safety and lived in the same dorm as me our freshman year. Our first semester, we had always been fairly close friends, running around together and whatnot. But our second semester was when something special started. I couldn't really tell you how or why, but somehow after we got back from Christmas break that year, we decided that we were going to read The Story (The Gospel) together. I say Story because for some very unfortunate reasons, the word Gospel is a word glazed in religious fog, and makes people think of the choir swaying, arms held high screaming LAAAAAWWWDDD ALMIGGGHTTTYYY. The Gospel, however, is far from the church bells and stained glass windows of lifeless religion. The Gospel is THE Story, an epic story of Gods rescue of his dearly loved family. Its the story of how one man fought so desperately and courageously to save you and me. Anyway, we began reading The Story together. We would meet everyday in the study rooms just outside of the lounge in centennial hall, and tear through the Story. 

And things changed. This Jesus guy came to life, became a bit more personal and lot more real to both of us. It was a time of great spiritual growth for both of us. To this day we both look back to that season of our lives with joy and gratefulness, knowing God worked in rather mysterious and effective ways to ransom us back to his heart once more. 

We had planned on getting a house with a couple other dudes from our team, and we were absolutely geeked to continue searching for the narrow path to Life throughout the rest of our college years. But long story short, Jack had to move back home and he transferred schools at the end of our freshman year. 

It was more than a little disappointing. We had shared our hopes and dreams for what might be shared over the next 4 years together. Football, roomie shenanigans, spiritual growth, Life to the full, etc. And those hopes and dreams were more or less deferred. 

But now to the good stuff, the good part of the story. Jack and I continued to stay in touch throughout our college careers. We simply kept being best friends despite our long distance bromance. 

Jack is my best guy friend. He understands me, gets me. He knows my heart, knows what pisses me off, knows what brings me joy. He knows my dreams and desires, and has walked with me through some rather ugly brokenness and sin. But the thing I think I love most about Jack and my friendship with him, is a shared vision. We both have this deep sense of a mission, something bigger than ourselves, a cause that is very much worth fighting for. We want the same things. 

I think it is so rare to find this. To find someone who knows you, loves you, would go to battle for you at the drop of hat; and also share a dream with you. Jack and I want the same things, want to spend our lives in the same manner. As I was catching up with him just recently on the phone I could feel a strength, a certain fire in my chest coming alive. I struggle really to put what I was feeling into words, so my first thought as to what was rising inside me was this; It was the life and heart of Jesus Christ. My True Best Friend.  My constant companion, and rather powerful partner in bringing His Kingdom to this earth. His life, his heart, his desire was awakening and stirring rather unexpectedly through time spent talking with Jack.  When it has been an extended time since I have truly connected with Jesus or the Father, I am so weary. I am busy, annoyed, on edge, exhausted, and not very motivated. I am also selfish. But when I do finally come back to Christ and take a good long drink of His Living Water, I am both relieved and strengthened. I can feel something alive and on fire in my chest once more.

Very similarly, when it has been an extended time since Jack and I have connected, it never fails that I leave our conversation energized and alive. Awake. When I spend even a small amount of time talking or hanging out with Jack, I am reminded of who I really am. I am reminded of what kind of man I really want to become. I am reminded of what I want my life to look like in 10 years. And through his very unintentional reminders, my heart is deeply strengthened.

It is something I have been deeply missing the past 4 years. When you spend time around certain individuals, they make you want to be a better person. Simply who they are draw you closer to God. Jack is that guy for me. The reason I cherish my relationship with Jack so much is because it mirrors my relationship with Jesus so much- he makes me want to be a better man. Simply spending time with Jack brings me closer to the Father; Jack leaves me wanting to draw closer to the Father. When I spend a little time with Jack, I get a lot of Jesus. 

To put it plainly, Jack is alot like Jesus.  And that is why I love him. 

Its safe to say that I am more than looking forward to sharing a little Jack Daniels with my dear friend Jack Klein in 22 short days. And I most definitely cannot wait to share a celebratory whiskey and coke with Jesus on the day he welcomes me into his Kingdom of Life and Joy. 

Redemption is Hard Work

Well, this posts been a long time comin. Grigsby, the master escape artist and free soul who has recently captured my heart, has ran away yet again. 

The first time he ran away was about a month ago. And it was an absolute mess getting him back. Samantha and I essentially had electronic wanted posters on social media for the arrest of our outlaw friend Grigsby. During our first search of our new Pug-Pomeranian prince, it had literally come to me going and renting a 'live trap' from the conservation department. I set the live trap up in the area where our fugitive buddy had been spotted most often, and set a can of filet mignon flavored wet dog food inside. All the time I spent looking for him, and the time I spent obtaining and setting the trap cut deeply into some much needed studying for my senior test. The whole time I had sensed God telling me to pursue this lil peckerwood of an escapist and to not quit looking for him. To try everything to get him back. Everytime I began being annoyed and frustrated in looking for him, the Spirit would simply say "the lost sheep parable." And so I would grudgingly take another lap around the block shouting for Grigsby to get his little spunky ass back here. 

"Doesn't God know I have to take the HFS test tonight? I don't have time to look for this rebellious dog." And God promptly replied, Easy there son. That's not quite the attitude I had when I came looking for you. 

Busted. This was not about finding a dog. It was about God disrupting my priorities in life. Grigsby brought loads and loads of joy to Samantha. So God asked me, Whats more important? A petty HFS test score or your future wife's heart? Whats more important? Getting shit done or loving others deeply?

OK. ok. I got it Father. Just bring this freaking dog back. 

Now I wished this story ended with: "Then GUESS WHAT?! I went to my HFS test and passed even though I barely studied all because the Lord rewarded me for all my lookign for our dog!!!!!!....then later that night I went to check on the trap, and guess who was in it?! GRIGSBY!!!!" 

This woulda been the perfect ending, surely would have been the script I wrote for the redemption of our relationship with ole Grigs dudes. 

But the trap didn't work. And I did not pass my senior test. BUT. Someone did find Grigsby. And we got our pup back this past Tuesday. 

Takeaway lesson: Redemption is hard work, and rather disruptive to your personal schedule, but its utterly worth it. Redemption doesn't always happen how we imagine, but by the grace of our Daddy in heaven, it does happen, in his perfect way and timing. 

Now to be perfectly honest, I was fighting Samantha pretty strongly on even getting a damn dog. At least until we were married. But when we went to the shelter I sensed God giving me the go ahead to get this little rascal. And now that I finally had brought him home and been re united with this lil booger, I had fell for him. I love him. Hes the bomb! He doesn't dry hump you, he doesn't bite, he snuggles with you like no other, Hes like a stuffed animal with a tiny bit more energy and life. Walking him was my new favorite time of the day. We would finish the last leg of our journeys with a rather spirited sprint. It was a blast even if the frozen tundra of Kirksville was so bitter. 

And now, Grigsby has ran away. Again. The front door opened to our house, and he immediately bolted. So fast none of my roomies could even react or prevent it from happening. Why the hell would God tell me to buy a dog that would run away like his life depended on it?! I mean the first time he ran away, I understand. He was an abused little guy, and was fearful of people, didn't trust us. But over the past 3 days I had proved that I was a good owner. I had given him unlimited love, lots of great food and water, a warm bed, and multiple walks a day. I had given him a WAY better life than the one he had lived in the shelter. I had given him an extremely better life than the one he had while he was on the run for a few weeks. So why would he run away? 

The fact of the matter is God has rather humorously and playfully given Samantha and I a clear picture of what we all do. 

God gives us perfect life and perfect love. He gives us the unconditional attention and affirmation that our hearts so desperately crave. When we come into relationship with God through Jesus Christ, God offers us a life that by far exceeds our past one. We are literally given life to the fullest from our Father in heaven. Yet the first chance we get, we bolt for a false sense of freedom, much like our pup Grigsby. Grigsby has no reason to be fearful of me, has no reason not to trust that I am good and loving. Yet he runs. 

And so do we. 

We have no reason not to trust that Gods heart for us is good and loving. Yet we run. I mean, its mind boggling. The guy takes a bullet aimed at us and dies so that we might live. What is not to trust about a guy who dies so that we can be rescued and given the life and joy we were meant to experience? 

Oh God is in this latest escape of Grigsby. When you walk with God, everything counts, there is something to learn in all experiences. 

What will Samantha and I's attitude be toward this? Will we throw in the towell?  He doesn't even want what we have to offer! Why would we even get our hopes up in finding him? Why would we even want to find him? 

Because if you recall, our Shepherd gladly leaves the 99 sheep on the hill to go look for the lost one UNTIL he finds it. (Luke 15:1-7)

Now if I am writing the story for this round of redemption, it would go something like this: "The next morning my roomies woke up and found Grigsby on the porch. He had turned back and came home!!!"

But I'm not writing the story. God is. And Samantha and I are open to whatever the heck He pleases to write. We don't mind if we get him back, only to have him run away yet again. We will simply love this little soul because we see pieces of our own hearts in his fearfulness of Life. Redemption might not happen how Samantha and I imagine, but it will come. And we will wait patiently for it. 

We might never find him again.....in this life. 

But that will make it an even sweeter Redemption when the great snuggler of all--Grigsby--wags his tail in joy as we crossover from life to Life. I have a hunch on that day Grigsby will no longer be fearful of Life, or distrust our great love for him. I also reckon our own doubt of Gods great love will no longer weigh us down either. 

In the mean time, if your in Kirksville please be on the look out for our guy! Pray about it. Dare to believe God's in this. Dare to believe God is in your own trials, big and small.

And keep in mind, victory is not in the outcome, victory is in the decision to fight, to stay hopeful and present in the moment. In this life or the next, our most desirous prayers will be answered. 

Groomsmen Part 3: Why I hate Nativity Scenes and Love Wes Allen

It’s officially November, and I’m officially dreaming about Christmas time.

On the way home from our most recent contest at Kentucky Wesleyan, I was jamming to the ipod on shuffle. Randomly (or not so randomly depending on your personal beliefs), a teaching from John Eldredge’s book Wild at Heart came on. The teaching was specifically on spiritual warfare and how there is a lot more going on in our lives than we care to believe. He uses an example from Christmas, and talks about nativity scenes.

“All nativity scenes are typically very similar. The same characters tend to appear in each one. Shepherds, wisemen, a few barnyard animals. Of course there is Mary and Joseph, adoring the new born baby Jesus. And a few scenes will include an angel or two, but that is as far as the spiritual realm is represented. The characters all have a very warm, sweet, pastoral feel to them. And while this is very true, it is also very deceiving. Deceiving because this is not a full representation of what is really going on. For that, you must turn to Revelation 12.” (Wild at Heart Audio, The Enemy)

“A great sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head.  She was pregnant and cried out in pain as she was about to give birth.  Then another sign appeared in heaven: an enormous red dragon with seven heads and ten horns and seven crowns on its heads.  Its tail swept a third of the stars out of the sky and flung them to the earth. The dragon stood in front of the woman who was about to give birth, so that it might devour her child the moment he was born. She gave birth to a son, a male child, who “will rule all the nations with an iron scepter…..Then war broke out in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fought back.  But he was not strong enough, and they lost their place in heaven. The great dragon was hurled down—that ancient serpent called the devil, or Satan, who leads the whole world astray. He was hurled to the earth, and his angels with him.” (Revelation 12:1-5, 7-9)

Philip Yancey calls the birth of Christ, “The great invasion…a daring raid by the ruler of the forces of good into the universe’s seat of evil.” To grasp the other half of the picture of Christ’s birth, it would be appropriate for you to watch the initial invasion scenes from Saving Private Ryan. The parallels between Saving Private Ryan and the Gospel are stunning. A massive invasion is launched, and a daring rescue mission for the safety of one lost man behind enemy lines. God invades with his son Jesus, and personally sends both Jesus and an intimate band of angels to rescue you. You are private Ryan in the movie. And like Tom Hanks and his troops, Jesus will stop at nothing to bring you home safely.

Now back to Revelation.

The child is born, the woman escapes, and the story continues:

“Then the dragon was enraged at the woman and went off to wage war against the rest of her offspring—those who keep God’s commands and hold fast their testimony about Jesus.” (Revelation 12:17)

“Behind the world, and the flesh is an even more deadly enemy.. one we rarely speak of, and one we are even less ready to resist, the devil himself...this is where we live now...on the front lines of a fierce spiritual war.” (Wild at Heart Audio, The Enemy)

And thus, I hate nativity scenes. They are soft, like most of our sacred and holy ‘Christian’ culture.

Now I know, it all seems so dramatic, so ultra spiritual and weird. But if you look at the scriptures, warnings about the Enemy are everywhere. Even the old Saint Paul knew how serious spiritual warfare was, he understood that if we are to walk with God in a genuine way and be the men and women we were created to be, we must engage in the spiritual war raging around us. We must fight. Period.

Bringing it a bit closer to home, God began to speak to me about the game I had just finished playing. We beat Kentucky Wesleyan 35-27. We should have scored a lot more points, and I imagine the defense feels that they could have held our opponent to fewer points. The problem was, our team as a whole, was lulled to sleep. We forgot that on Saturdays, it really makes no difference who lines up across from us. We forgot that no matter who our opponent is, no matter what venue and atmosphere we play in, the context for our game is war. And if your mind is not ready for a fight, you will swiftly get your ass kicked. We walked out onto the Kentucky Wesleyan field and it was dead quiet. Saying there was no energy or buzz from the stands would be an understatement.

To make matters worse, we got up by quite a few points early. This early ‘success’ further progressed the lulling to sleep of our team. We had officially forgotten that we were in a fight.

Now to why I love Wes Allen. Now to those pieces of Jesus pumping through Wesley’s veins that so often speak to my heart.  Wes is a soldier, literally. He is going into the Marines after school, and he will make one wild warrior. He is one of the few men in my life that remind me that I am at war, that there are some things in life worth fighting for, and I love that about him. We worked together for a majority of this past summer, and we formed a strong bond as we shared our common love of epic movies, (Gladiator Braveheart We Were Soldiers, to name a few) and Eminem’s lyrics. Often times we would pass the time at work jamming to Eminem, or quoting our favorite movie lines. But my favorite way to pass the time at work with Wes, was looking up quotes from the Marines or other branches of our military. So much wisdom and strength in the quotes of men who have led our countries warriors into the most hostile spots in the world.  Any quote concerning war would do for us. Here’s a few of our favorites:

We thrive on adversity- Navy Seals

Every plans a good one until the first shots are fired – US Marines

A man once told me that death smiles at all of us, all a man do is smile back – Marcus Aurelius, Gladiator

We are never out of the fight – Navy Seals

Only the dead have seen the end of war. – Plato

As Wes and I chatted in the locker room post game, after we narrowly escaped with a victory, we revisited the quote about never being out the fight. “We’re never out of the fight. But that’s the same for the other guys. We forgot that they were never out of the fight either.”

Yes. We did forget Wesley. The Father brought this to my attention on the bus ride home, began fathering me yet again through the game of football. How often do I personally forget that I live in a world at war? How often do I live as though everything is hunky dory in the land of butterflies and rainbows? When in reality, I am in a fight. Satan is enraged at me, hates me. Wants to devour me, wants to steal my joy, kill my heart, and destroy my life. (Click these cool things >>> John 10:10 and 1 Peter 5:8)

We can’t afford to forget that we are at war. We can’t turn the other cheek to where we find ourselves. You can’t win a fight you don’t think exists. Which is why this is Satan's greatest strategy-Lull us to sleep and make us believe that he simply doesn't exist. It’s a subtle assault on humanity, and it’s dreadfully effective. If we believe we are not in a fight, we will swiftly get our asses kicked in this war. I'd venture to say that a majority of the brokenness and pain in your own life is connected to you forgetting, or not knowing, that Satan is assaulting you every freaking day. As Plato said, only the dead have seen the end of war. War is simply where we are in the story. We must accept it, believe it, embrace it, and as men and women of God,  fight with every fiber in our body.

Maybe you have turned down the fight for all your life, refused to accept the fact that Satan is literally waging war against your soul. Maybe you are more than slightly discouraged that you have not jumped in, and fought the evil one. Maybe you feel like its too late, that Satan has gained too much ground on your life for a turnaround.

I would be quick to remind you, that you my friend are never out of the fight. It’s never too late.

We are never out of the fight, and we thrive on adversity.  

I dare the dudes reading this that call themselves Christians to start praying this prayer once a day. It will take about 10 minutes, and it would be a good start in fighting the good fight. It will bring you near to Gods heart, and will teach you how to embrace your role in the war we find ourselves in. 

Fight for your lives. Nothing good has ever come without a fight. Life to the fullest, a life full of Joy and intimacy with God is worth it. But you must fight for it.

And for the love of God someone add a machine gun or something more violent to a nativity scene this year.