The Kingdom, The Kids, & the Cowboys

Our Little Middle turns fifteen years old today.

Fifteen?!?

No. I’m in serious denial here. Fifteen sounds so big. It sounds *gulp* kinda grown up. And she’s not. No way. She’s little Valerie.

She’s my little newborn baby with those huge beautiful eyes, taking everything in, surveying her surroundings, sizing up the other infants in that nursery at South Austin Medical Center. She’s my tiny toddler with the saggy diaper, waddling around the house with that pink sippy cup, constantly calling out in that deep, funny baritone drawl, “I want mo’ milk.” Valerie is my little middle, the blondie who sits sideways in the car with her face almost stuck to the glass so she doesn’t miss a single thing as it goes by. “What’s that?” Or more like, “Whaaaat’s thaa-yat?” She’s my little dress up girl with the Barbies and doll houses. She’s my picky eater who never met a vegetable she didn’t hate. She’s my little elementary school cutie with the snaggle-toothed grin who wants me to tuck her in every night, “papoose style.”

Yeah, she’s all those things. She always will be all those things to me. I can’t help but see all those things — still — in her.

But she’s also turning fifteen today. She is.

She likes drinking coffee now. She had a big cup of it on the way out the door this morning. Stinks up our whole house. She’s into Justin Bieber (Lord, where did I mess that up?) and listens to him and Taylor Swift and some guy named Bruno Mars or something in her room, in the bathroom, in the car, everywhere. She’s got that iTouch on and those ear plugs in all the time. She’s very, very fashion conscious: belts and fingernails, socks and hair bands, name brand jeans with the bling on the booty, and some kind of shoe called Sperry’s that look almost exactly like the topsiders we wore in the ’80s. She’s really in to zebra stripes right now; black and white and pink zebra stripes on everything. She can be kinda sarcastic. She sings in the high school choir. She’s acting at Amarillo Little Theater. She babysits. She’s slightly sarcastic. She laughs at things that make adults laugh. She takes off for hours at a time with friends who already have their drivers licenses. She’s learning how to drive now herself. She spends as much effort and energy talking to boys as she does girls. She’s a little sarcastic. And she eats those two or three bites of broccoli now with just a slight sulk instead of a full-on-knock-down-drag-out fight-to-the-death.

And she’s just absolutely beautiful. Stunning.

She’s about grown up. She’s almost there.

And she loves her Lord — our Lord — and his people. She’s given her life to him and he’s making full use of it. Our God uses our Val-Pal all the time to show his love and grace and acceptance and mercy to other people. Nothing makes her happier than to spend time with somebody who doesn’t always feel love, somebody who doesn’t always experience acceptance. She cares a great deal about the needs of others. Our Father has put that in her. His Spirit lives in her and moves her to do sacrificial things that benefit other people. It’s quite spectacular, really, when your prayers for your children are answered almost every day right in front of your eyes. She reflects God’s glory. And I love it.

Happy Birthday, Valerie. “Her’s a big girl!”

I love you. And I’m so proud of you.

Dad

There’s a Season Three episode of Seinfeld in which Jerry and Elaine are attempting to pick up a rental car. Jerry has made a reservation for a mid-size and the lady behind the counter informs him that they don’t have a mid-size available at the moment.

Jerry says, “I don’t understand; I made a reservation. Do you have my reservation?”

“Yes, we do,” she answers. “But, unfortunately, we ran out of cars.”

Now Jerry’s really confused. And a little agitated. “But the reservation keeps the car here! That’s why you have the reservation!”

“I know why we have reservations.”

“I don’t think you do. If you did, I’d have a car. See, you know how to take the reservation. You just don’t know how to hold the reservation. And that’s really the most important part of the reservation: the hold.”

“…an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade — kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power.” ~1 Peter 1:4-5

The promise of eternal life is guaranteed and kept — held! — by the power of God for his children. And that guarantee inspires us. It moves us. It drives us.

Through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, our God has made a reservation in heaven. And the treasures of heaven that are being held for us can never be taken away. They can’t rot or disappear. Nothing can ruin it. It can’t be cheapened or stained in any way. It’s guarded. It’s shielded. It’s protected by God’s power. We will never walk up to the counter and be disappointed because God didn’t know how to “hold.”

What a relief! What great assurance! How liberating! What a blessing to realize we are not kept by our own power. Our eternal destiny does not depend on our own abilities which do disappoint or our own merits which do come up short. We are kept — held! — by the power of the Almighty Creator of Heaven and Earth.

In this, as Peter writes, we greatly rejoice.

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I wanted to share a few snow pictures with you, especially if you’re reading this from somewhere outside our greater Amarillo area. It seems the Blizzard Warning on the 19th was six days early. We got just under seven inches of snow on Christmas Day and it was marvelous.

It was still coming down hard when we left our lunch at Steve and Connie’s to head back to town. The Woods live just west of town and we were warned that when they close I-40, they do it at Soncy Road. So we grabbed a handful of Connie’s fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and followed Craig and Donna back to the highway.

Sunday afternoon, Greg and Mean Jean and I took our kids (all of his, one of mine) and the McNeil urchins out to MediPark Hill for some sledding. They call it MediPark Hill; I think it’s actually just a huge drainage ditch. First time sledding for me. Ever. Valerie accompanied me on the adventure while the other three women in my house stayed inside. High and dry. It’s a good thing that MediPark Hill is right in the middle of the hospital district. I was having to walk up and sled down while, at the same time, dodging Josh’s Kamikaze attacks from the side and Ethan’s slushballs aimed at my earhole. Mark my words: You little guys will get yours!

Here’s a shot of our new backyard on Roxton covered in snow:

We’ve had right at nine-and-a-half inches of snow so far this season. But since Christmas Day, we’ve been mostly sunny and in the 50s and 60s. If this is winter in Amarillo, it’s not nearly as bad as all of you made it out to be.

Peace,

Allan

We spent our assembly time together here at Central yesterday considering the weird passage in Genesis 15 about the blood path ceremony between God and Abram. All the pieces of animal, all the blood, the thick and dreadful darkness, the two symbols representing God passing between the pieces.

Clearly, God was promising Abram that God’s promises about giving Abram many descendents and lots of land and, eventually, blessing all the nations of the earth by his seed were trustworthy. God was going to be true to his word. And he staked his life on it by walking between the bloody pieces of the sacrificial animals. God used a very common practice, this ceremony with which everybody was familiar, to demonstrate his commitment to his word.

If what is explicit in Genesis 17:1, that Abram had to be blameless and live in perfection before the Lord, was understood at this time to be Abram’s part of the covenant — and I believe it was — then it’s remarkable that God walked the path between the pieces twice. The smoke and the fire, two theophanies representing YHWH Lord, both pass through the blood. God stands in for Abram. He walks in Abram’s place. The promise from the Lord, in addition to the kids and the land and the Messiah is that God is going to pay for his people’s sins. God pays the price whether he or Abram violates the covenant. Either way, the penalty is on God. Whenever and however the covenant gets broken, when it’s broken, God dies.

The significance of this powerful picture of God walking the blood path in Genesis 15 cannot be overstated. Yes, what God has promised he will certainly do. In the scheme of Genesis and the rest of the Torah, this story goes a long way in reminding us that God overcomes seemingly insurmountable obstacles — barren wombs, enemies in the promised land, the sin of his people — to keep his word. Yes. But it’s so much more than that, too.

God’s perfect promises are free gifts to his people. God is the One who initiates the relationship with us and provides for us what is needed to maintain it. We bring nothing to the table. The Father desires to bond eternally with people who consistently reject him. And he’s willing to prove his devotion to the relationship by offering his own life. Not only that, but the Lord is willing to pay the price himself for the covenant failures of man.

And God’s promise is unconditional. It was not dependent on Abram at all. The covenant stands no matter what the people believe or what they practice. The fulfillment does not depend on man’s faith or faithfulness. God’s “I AM” is perfectly adequate for man’s “I am not.” We can’t perfectly keep the terms of our covenant with God. It’s impossible. We are entirely unable to walk before the Lord and be blameless. But, praise God, that’s not the end of the matter. Our Father made the provision for us long ago. His walking through the blood symbolizes his willingness to stand in for us, to do what is necessary to cover for us, when we violate the terms of the covenant.

At the end of the day, Abram was assured that his own future and the futures of his children and descendents were firmly in the hands of the covenant God. “On that day,” Genesis 15:18 says, “the Lord made (lit: cut) a covenant with Abram.” The point remains the same for you and me under the renewed covenant: God’s word is dependable. It’s perfect. The Lord keeps his promises. Our Father is faithful; and very, very good.

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The seeds of yesterday’s sermon were planted in me by a teaching I heard from Ray Vander Laan about seven years ago. A year later, Dr. Mark Shipp assigned the Genesis 15 text to me for an exegetical research project at Austin Grad. Vander Laan inspired me. Shipp challenged me. And now this picture in Genesis 15 is a part of me. You can read Vander Laan’s work on the subject here. You can read my exegetical paper on the passage by clicking here: Genesis 15 Exegesis

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It turned out to be a full weekend project. In and around Thanksgiving food, football, and family; in between Christmas decorating and shopping; before and after church and study and movies and games; Valerie had to write a poem for school. This poem had to be based on an earlier project in which she had described herself by using dualities found in images and ideas from nature. Among other things, Valerie had written about fire, which produces energy and warmth, yet also displays a tendency to ignore boundaries and be destructive. She had mentioned Spring, contrasting songs and flowers against the inevitable wind and storms. There were also the complexities of a diamond: multi-faceted, hard, yet submitting to the gem-cutter’s blade. She also sees herself in the Azaleas: striking in their brilliance, yet so stinking high-maintenance. But could she express all of this in a poem?

Oh, yes she can.

It’s beautiful. I suggested she title it “A Song Unfinished.” She went with “The Stonecutter’s Project.” It describes my little Valerie perfectly. A bundle of energy and talent and unlimited potential. Enjoy.

She crackles, she sizzles, inspires as she dances;
she daringly spreads as she leaps at new chances.
Fiery, bold, contagious.
Careless, impulsive, outrageous.
A tendency to both warm and consume as she advances.

A skip in her Vans and a spritz of perfume;
like Spring, she has sprung, entirely in bloom.
Songbirds, shamed by her voice.
But beware of her other noise:
the lightening and thunder of an alternate mood.

Like the Azalea in season, so striking, so pink;
it takes the right mix of rich soil and zinc.
P, B, and Js.
Grilled cheese and Lays.
For Valerie, nothing more, nothing less, and a D. P. to drink.

Like the diamond that dazzles through each of its facets,
the word “brilliance” defines and sums up her assets.
Unique, strong, true to her pledges.
Stubborn, steadfast, still rough around the edges.
Continually refined by the Stonecutter’s tools, a polished gem with no regrets.

Peace,

Allan

“Even to your old age and gray hairs
I am he, I am he who will sustain you;
I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” ~Isaiah 46:4

God speaks through his prophet in Isaiah 46 about the foolishness of our idols. He shows his people the absurdity of putting our faith in idols. God’s people were worshiping Bel and Nebo, Babylonian and Canaanite gods, right alongside Yahweh. They were worshiping God, yes. But at the same time they were hedging their bets, covering their bases — political, cultural, agricultural — by including all the regional gods of the land, too.

Technically, it’s called syncretism. Practically, I’d call it materialism. Or consumerism. Or nationalism.

The picture painted in Isaiah 46 is graphic. God’s people are burdened by their idols, having to carry their idols, even as they’re marched off to captivity in Babylon for worshiping those idols. They’re being driven out of God’s Promised Land and they’re carrying their idols with them.

And God says, “Listen to me! I will carry you!”

You’re carrying these lifeless idols around, these idols that can’t save you or protect you. You’re carrying them. And you’re bent over and weakened by the weight. They make the idols and then are forced to carry them. And our Lord points out the insanity of that when he says, “I have made you and I will carry you!”

We’re all getting older. Our hair is going to turn gray. Or turn loose. Or both. The instability of the economy scares us. The tenuous nature of the world’s governments unnerves us. Wars threaten us. Healthcare seems to be increasingly lacking for us. Everything’s changing. Nothing much seems dependable. And Isaiah 46 shows us very clearly the utter foolishness and sin of trusting in politics and governments and technology and goods for our peace. In the midst of the change and the turmoil and the uncertainty that surrounds us and sometimes overwhelms us, our mighty God says:

“Remember this. Fix it in your mind. Take it to your heart. I am God. And there is no other. I am God. And there is none like me.” (46:8-9)

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I’m still not real sure what “Howdy Week” is at Amarillo High. But Whitney and Valerie have been in costume for the past five days. It was 80s dress for Time Travel Tuesday. Suspenders and thick black glasses for NerdsDay. But today they’re sporting their dad’s old maroon and gold for Frat Friday. Eggleston will appreciate this picture of my two older daughters wearing Delta jerseys. Byrnes and Frost will make some immature comments about it that will betray their pathetic Sigma jealousies. When John-Tern sees it, he will laugh out loud.

But it just makes me proud.

Go Sandies.

Allan

“All of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death. We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. If we have been united with him like this in his death, we will certainly also be united with him in his resurrection.” ~Romans 6:3-5

Dear Valerie,

It was my great and special honor to baptize you yesterday into the sin-forgiving and salvation-bestowing blood of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Your baptism, your open heart, and your confessing spirit were an inspiration to all of us who participated in your new birth. It was an especially proud moment for your mom and me.

You have been tremendously blessed by our God. He has favored you, Valerie, with a gentle and generous disposition that considers the needs of others and openly shares kindness and compassion. You are a beautiful and brilliant young lady with an endless amount of potential. The possibilities you possess within you to do good are staggering. You’re so talented, so hilarious, so full of life.

Your mom and I have worked very hard to pass along to you and your sisters our faith in our risen Christ. We have tried to live every day as models of what it looks like to practice what we preach. We’ve tried to be consistent in living out the Gospel in our every interactions within our family and within the world God has given us. Your decision to give yourself wholly to Jesus as the ultimate and eternal Lord of your life is a moment of great satisfaction for us; I won’t lie. It means everything.

“You are all children of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed and heirs according to the promise.” ~Galatians 3:26-29

Be reminded, Valerie, that when you were baptized you put to death that old girl of sin. You buried that girl. You killed her. And when you came up out of the water you were a brand new creature. God has created in you a brand new person, full of his Holy Spirit, to experience everything in a brand new way. You now share in the Resurrection of Jesus. Death has nothing on you now. And neither does sin.

You have renounced the ways of the devil. You have rejected the patterns of this world. You have said ‘no’ to temptation and evil desires that would pull you away from your God. You have now personally and publically embraced salvation from God in Christ. You have put your trust, not in horses and chariots, not in your own talents and abilities, not in your own works and good deeds, but in the Father who promises to save you. Your faith is in him. You have placed yourself in his gracious and loving arms. And he will deliver. Our God is faithful, Valerie. And very, very good.

“Since then you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God… For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.” ~Colossians 3:1-4

God has incredibly huge things in store for you, girl. He is going to work in you to transform you more and more into the perfect image of his holy Son. And he’s going to work through you to bless the lives of hundreds, maybe thousands, of people to his eternal glory and praise. And I’m going to be right there in a front row seat, waving your flags and cheering you on the whole way.

You are my daughter in whom I am well pleased.

May you look back often on your baptism, Val, and remember what God has created in you. And may you walk with him always, faithful to the end.

I love you,

Dad

That’s not a clever title, I know. But that’s really all this post is: a bunch of pictures from our Saturday running of the Warrior Dash up in Roanoke. We had a blast. We enjoyed  a great sense of accomplishment. Other than scraped knees and sore legs, nobody got hurt. And we’ve got lots and lots of hilarious stories. I highly recommend Warrior Dash.

(A few months ago, things got weird with my blog. Some of the format changed and a lot of the ways I write and edit and insert pictures and articles changed. I haven’t been happy with it. I’m not at all comfortable with it. But I have no idea how to change any of it. This post looks horrible. And I don’t know how to fix it. I didn’t use to have any of these problems. Please bear with me. After today, I’m determined to get this fixed.)

This is the Legacy group that ran together in the 10:00 am wave Saturday morning. There were others of us that ran at 1:30 that afternoon and 6:00 that evening. But this was our little band of warriors. Ready for the challenge!

After wading through waist-deep water, climbing cargo net walls, leaping cars and trucks, scaling stacks of hay bales, and jumping over fire, we made it to the final obstacle: a giant pit of slimy mud. We had to get low in order to clear the barbed wire that ran over the mud. Naturally, this is where the crowds of spectators were gathered and where most of the best pictures were taken.

The most deflating, demoralizing part of the day was crossing the finish line, getting my medal of spectacular achievement, and seeing Hudson up on the banks, already showered and clean and dry and not a hair out of place. What a punk! Next year, Hudson. I’m keeping up with you next year.

I think the Warrior Dash is primarily targeted to a college-aged demographic that drinks more than just Diet Dr Pepper. But we had an absolute blast together. Carl Ball took some great pictures and some video and put together a funny little film we watched together at a BBQ place Saturday night. In just a five-hour time span the stories had been embellished and the details of the day exaggerated so that they were barely recognizable. Carrie-Anne’s going to run it with us next year. Carley’s chomping at the bit to turn 14 so she can enter. And I think our Legacy numbers may double or triple. Thanks to Greg Hardman for turning us on to Warrior Dash. Greg, if you find one in the fall, we’re in!

Peace,

Allan