Category: Valerie (Page 15 of 17)

Marvelous Falls

October 26, 2010 / Allan / 0 Comments

Who knew the Cowboys season would be over before the Rangers’? How many points would the Giants have scored if they hadn’t had five turnovers? How long until Wade reminds us that, “Hey, it’s not like we haven’t won a single game!” I think a lockout/strike is the best thing Jerry Wayne can hope for. He may be trying to figure out how to make it happen today.

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We spent right at 24 hours in Marble Falls this past weekend, helping the church family there celebrate their 65th anniversary and homecoming and grand opening of their brand new church building. And for most of those 24 hours, I was an emotional wreck. I was really surprised by my own reactions to being in that place with those people. It caught me off guard.

Carrie-Anne and I spent seven years in this place with these people when I was the News and Sports Director at KHLB from 1991-98. We went to football games together. We had babies together. We sang at funerals together. We rang in new years, we visited hospitals, we coached T-ball, we fished and fixed cars and worshiped God together. We survived a tornado together. Whitney and Valerie were both born into that church family. I was a deacon and led worship with that group of Christians. We prayed with the Clarks. We laughed with the Futrells. We painted Cathy Chrismon’s house. We roofed Dan’s houses. We went Christmas caroling. We taught VBS. Donna Preston helped us buy our first home on Hackberry Drive. From Bessie Ruth.

And when we left in 1998 for the greener pastures of sports talk radio on WHBQ in Memphis, Buck Burdett told me we’d be back.

I swore we wouldn’t.

But in 2005, needing a place to live and work while I received my Master’s Degree at Austin Grad, I called up Don Graves. And they welcomed us back with open arms. It wasn’t so much that they hired me part-time as it was they agreed to help support us as I studied. We moved right into Kyle and Marti’s rent house. And right back into that church family.

I was youth minister for a stretch. Worship leader. Preacher. Interim preacher. Bible class teacher. Men’s minister. Involvement minister. And I learned. And learned. And learned. I worked alongside Jim Gardner as he became the new preacher there. I watched Jimmy Mitchell pour his heart and soul into our kids. I sat at the feet of Jim Dobbs and benefitted greatly from his wisdom and experience and encouragement and love. During those 22 months, I learned as much in and with the Marble Falls church as I did at Austin Grad.

And now here we were again on Sunday. Back in Marble Falls. Back with these people who have shaped us and loved us and supported us and taken care of us.

I forget how much I really love them until I’m right in the big middle of them.

I’ve never hugged and been hugged so much in all my life as I was Sunday. The hugs just kept coming and coming and coming. Carrie-Anne and I truly felt loved. And appreciated. And valued. We felt like we really belonged. It felt — in a weird way that part of me hates to admit — like home.

How do you make it through “It Is Well With My Soul” in the middle of all that?

We love our church family in Marble Falls. And we pray for all of you God’s richest blessings of grace and peace.

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I’ll try to spend the next couple of posts getting caught up on a variety of things. Again, thanks for your patience with the blog. It’s been a weird past couple of weeks. I still don’t have this thing totally where I want it. But we’re getting there.

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Where were you when the Rangers won the pennant? We were in our living room, watching history unfold together as a family. The microfiber couches were cold since we’d all been standing since the beginning of the eighth inning. I couldn’t hardly concentrate during the ninth, I was so completely distracted by the losers behind home plate who were holding up that huge Texas flag — upside-down! I kept thinking surely somebody would notice and tell them to turn it right-side-up. I was upset that we would be watching the highlights of the last out for the rest of our lives and the Texas flag in the background was going to be upside-down. I was beside myself with the joy of anticipating the perfect poetic justice of Alex Rodriguez making that last out. What could possibly be better than A-Fraud swinging and missing to push the Rangers (it’s just him and 24 kids, remember?) into the World Series? How delicious! And then he actually struck out looking! Even better! Absolutely, wonderfully, deliriously better!

We exchanged high fives and hugs. Steve Fleming called Whitney to offer his congratulations. We grinned as the trophy was presented to Wash and Nolan and JD. We nodded with approval as Josh Hamilton collected the MVP award and, instead of talking about himself, talked about his teammates.

Then Whitney and Carley and I piled in the car to head out to Academy to get our official Rangers World Series T-shirts. We stood in line for just over an hour with hundreds and hundreds of other long-suffering Rangers fans who just couldn’t believe what was happening. It still didn’t seem real to any of us. We cheered and chanted as the line snaked through the parking lot and around the building. Horns were honked. We saw the Flemings and Brightwells and Drakes and even Wayne Steele. The girls saw a couple of their friends and teachers from school. Are the Rangers really in the World Series? They must be. That’s what my T-shirt says.

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Saturday morning, Valerie and I left at 7:00 for the All-Region Middle School Choir auditions in Arlington. 7:00 Saturday night we got the email notifying us that she had made it! God has given Val a beautiful soprano voice and a desire to use it to his glory. And we couldn’t be happier or more proud.

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Leaving town Saturday afternoon on the way to Marble Falls, we drove through the tornado on Loop 820. I knew something was weird. The sky looked ominous and there was an unusual amount of debris flying through the air. But it wasn’t until traffic stopped and we eventually crawled up to the twisted exit signs that we realized it was more severe than just a thunderstorm. We got past the jam, turned on the radio, and listened to Brad Barton talk about the tornado that was moving through Richland Hills and into Euless. Good gravy, we had driven right through it! Jennifer Gambill, our children’s minister who lives just four or five streets away, was just unpiling the mattresses and emerging from her closet when I called. Everything was fine.

There were clear skies yesterday afternoon when the high winds split a tree on Holiday Lane and pushed it on top of our van as I was driving to Richland High School to pick up Whitney. Carley was in the front seat with me. I was driving about 30 m.p.h., in the right lane, when I commented to Carley about how crazy windy it was. And just a second or two later, the tree blew over right on top of us. She screamed. I reached out to brace her. It was so loud. I thought her window had shattered. It was so weird. And unexpected. Who has a tree fall on top of their car while they’re driving?!? The window wasn’t broken. But the car is scratched up from the headlights to the rear window. And Carley’s heartbeat just now got back down to normal.

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Finally, Carley’s elementary choir marched and performed in last night’s Richland High School Homecoming parade. We saw Lisa Clifton in the Chick-Fil-A truck with the cows. The creepy female Rebel mascot with the empty eyes. Several friends from church and school. And a bunch of homemade signs that declared allegiance to Richland High AND a nod to the Texas Rangers. It’s cool when the football team is giving the claw to the parade-watchers.

Peace,

Allan

I Owe You a Post

April 12, 2010 / Allan / 2 Comments

It’s been a full eleven days since my last post. Sorry. Thank you. Let’s get caught up.

(As always, click on the images to get the full size)

We had a fantastic couple of days at LTC over the April 2-3 weekend. Lots of gold, silver, and bronze brought back to Legacy from the DFW Hyatt. My favorite part of Leadership Training for Christ is going to as many of the events as possible and cheering on all our kids. Encouraging them. Telling them what a great job they did. Recognizing in them the great gifts they have from God and seeing in them all the wonderful ways our Father will use them to his eternal glory. I love laughing with them and patting them on the back and hugging them after a job well done. Our teachers and volunteers do a great job with LTC here at Legacy. And the kids always respond with award-winning performances.

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Our four-day Resurrection Renewal was a God-glorifying, Church-edifying, Gospel-verifying event that started Easter Sunday morning with 1,200 men, women, and children lifting our hearts and voices to God in praise and thanksgiving for the empty tomb. Four days of participating in the Resurrection accounts from Holy Scripture. Four days of basking in the power of the Resurrection and gaining new strength in our Resurrection hope.

Two brand new souls experienced their own resurrections Wednesday evening as they were buried with Christ and raised to walk in newness of eternal life. Five of our brothers and sisters publicly confessed their sins and asked for the prayers of their church family as they declared their own new beginnings.

I’m so proud of my Legacy family. We baked cookies and served refreshments. We greeted visitors and held doors. We organized and taught fun interactive children’s classes. We invited our friends. We wore empty tomb T-shirts and passed out flyers. We were/are the kind of church family — the kind of Resurrection Community — to which anyone would want to belong.

And it’s not over.

I’m so encouraged by the conversations I’m overhearing in the hallways during and following our Resurrection Renewal. We’re thinking and talking about the right things. Our attention at Legacy is shifting from an inward to an outward focus, from one of being served to one of serving others. This is just the start. We’re going to keep inviting our friends to Legacy. We’re going to keep talking about the Resurrection. We’re going to keep paying more attention to the lost than to the saved. And we’re going to remember that the Resurrection is not simply something we sing about or teach. It’s not something we merely believe. The Resurrection is who we are.

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By the way, many of you have been asking about the three-minute video we showed at the end of the sermon Easter Sunday morning. The audio was from a sermon preached by S. M. Lockridge called “The Seven-Way King.” The video images were produced and edited by Albert Martin. Jeff Walling has used the video on several ocassions at WinterFest and the Tulsa Workshop. You can check out the video again by clicking here.

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For the second time in three years, Whitney wound up winning the annual Stanglin Bracket Racket. She correctly picked Duke to win it all and edged me out by a total of six points in our family college basketball pool.

I kept hoping and waiting for the Hoosiers miracle. I kept wishing for Shooter to show up and coach the Butler Bulldogs into a picket fence play with Jimmy Chitwood / Gordon Hayward hitting the game-winner at the buzzer. Only in the movies, I guess.

Whitney also, last January, correctly predicted the winner and the final score of the Super Bowl. Seriously! She not only chose the double-digit underdog Saints to beat the Colts, she picked the exact final score! We’re taking her to Vegas tomorrow. Or maybe to the QT to at least buy a couple of lottery tickets.

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We got to see lots of old friends this past Saturday night at the annual Oklahoma Christian University Alumni and Fundraising dinner here at Legacy. It was the biggest North Texas dinner to date. Tons of money raised and pledged for the new Bobby Murcer Athletics center and for scholarships to deserving DFW kids. The highlight for me was catching up with my old Delta buddies and reliving our quests for All-Sports trophies and Spring Sing laughs. What OC event would be complete without a Delta Alumni photo?

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Whitney and Valerie were in Glenrose for a youth retreat. Carrie-Anne stayed in bed. So Carley accompanied me early, early, early Sunday morning to the Red Lot on the northeast side of Texas Stadium to witness in person the implosion of that iconic landmark. We woke up at 4:00am, got there at 5:15, (we handed the parking lot attendant $25, he handed us four boxes of Kraft macaroni and cheese) and worked our way to the front of the barricades to hear — and feel — the concussions of the dynamite and suck the concrete and steel dust into our lungs.

I still can’t really imagine that Texas Stadium doesn’t exist anymore. My aunt LouAnn took me to my first ever Cowboys game in that building when I was twelve. I saw Drew Pearson’s consecutive-games-with-a-catch streak end in a close win over the Patriots there with Paul Barron. I wore my blue Roger Staubach jersey. Paul politely asked me to stop yelling so much through my Cowboys popcorn container which doubled as an effective megaphone. I think the people in front of us were giving us looks. When I was 15, Mike Cunningham and I got thrown out of an SMU-Texas Tech game there for dropping ice cubes off the second deck. When I was 16, Todd Johnson and I froze to death there in a miserable January Cowboys playoff loss to the Rams. I remember a two-touchdown fourth quarter performance by Chuck McSwain there in a pre-season win over the Dolphins. I remember a wild Sunday night shootout with the Raiders with five other high school friends. We jeered Marc Wilson and I ate too many bugles. And I was in the stands when a rookie Troy Aikman outpassed Dan Marino in a close loss in ’89.

I was also blessed to roam the sidelines, pressboxes, and underground tunnels at Texas Stadium for four seasons as a radio reporter for KRLD and AM 990. I ate my meals across the hall from the locker room. I ticked off Bill Parcells and made Terrence Newman laugh. I squeezed through the crowds to interview quarterbacks and linebackers and enjoyed leisurely conversations with offensive linemen and kickers. I rode elevators with movie stars and singers. I met Tex Schramm there. I shared work space with the giants in the sports media industry, some of them my heroes of the past and present. I was there when a Thanksgiving Day halftime performer caught on fire. And I was part of the standing ovation when Emmitt Smith passed Walter Payton.

Even after watching it completely collapse into a pile of debris yesterday, I still can’t really imagine that Texas Stadium is gone. I saw Tom Landry coach there. I saw Staubach throw and Tony run. I can still see the end zone scoreboard flash “Martinized!” after a huge Harvey Martin sack. I can still hear Tanya Tucker’s “When I Die” after every Cowboys touchdown. And I can still hear Tommy Loy’s trumpet playing the national anthem.

Thank you, Carley, for going with me and for screaming, “That was awesome!” at the top of your lungs when Texas Stadium was demolished. Forgive your dad for not feeling the same way.

Peace,

Allan

Another Teenager

January 24, 2010 / Allan / 1 Comment

…just what I needed.

Valerie Nicole turns 13 today. Our “Little Middle” is, officially now, a teenager.

Oi.

Thirteen years ago today, at South Austin Medical Center, Carrie-Anne almost died giving birth to this massive child. Nine-and-a-half pounds and a bowling ball head. Huge blue eyes. Alert. Soaking in all her surroundings even before we could cut the cord. I’ll never forget the way she amazed me in those first couple of minutes of her life. I’d never seen a new-born like this. She looked like she was already two or three months old. And she was acting like it, too. As I held her and sang “Eight Days a Week” and “Love Me Do” to our second daughter, she locked her eyes right into mine. It was almost like she was ready to talk.

Or sing.

Valerie’s a singer. She has a beautiful voice and she loves to sing. She knows all the words to songs she’s only heard once. She sings in her room, in the car, in the shower, everywhere. She’s in the choir at North Ridge Middle School. She sings every year at LTC. I love listening to Valerie sing.

Valerie’s also an adventurer. She’s not afraid of anything except casseroles and vegetables. I have no idea how that girl survives on such a strict diet of grilled-cheese and french fries. An exclusive diet of grilled-cheese and french fries. Valerie’s a joker. She’s hilarious. She keeps us in stitches with her Erkel impersonations and her funny faces. She’s a social butterfly. A social butterfly on steroids. Three out of every four phone calls at our house — incoming and outgoing — are for Valerie. And she’s sensitive. She has a wonderful heart for people and their concerns and needs. She shows the same compassion and attention to Dorothy Allred as she does to Laiklyn Gray. A lot.

And she wants to be baptized. She wants to give her life to our Lord.

Man. How great is that? We’re going to start talking and praying together about that tomorrow.

Valerie’s not huge anymore. That stopped being the case by about the time she turned three. Valerie’s a twig. Earlier this week at the doctor’s office she weighed in at a whopping 81.8 pounds. She’s skinny as a rail. Bony. The girl won’t eat. There’s nothing big about her.

Except her heart. Her heart is huge. And it’s growing. Her heart for little kids. Her heart for those who are hurting. Her heart for people in need. Puppy dogs on Animal Planet. Lonely classmates in the lunchroom. I love what I see at work in her. I’m thankful to our God for what I see developing in her.

Our Father in heaven has huge plans for this girl. He’s got a mission for her and good works already prepared for her that are far beyond anything we’ve thought about yet. I know he does. I can tell. Valerie is special. She’s got gifts. God-given gifts that belong only to her.

We love you, Val-Pal. Happy Birthday!

Dad

As A Mother Comforts Her Child…

November 3, 2009 / Allan / 0 Comments

My kids run to me all the time. They run to me when I get home from work in the afternoons. They scream from upstairs and from the living room, from the dining room table and the computer room. Wherever they are they yell, “Daddy!” And they usually come running. Wow. I love that.

They run to me when they want to go to Sonic to get a Dr Pepper float. When they want to play, they come to me. When they want to spend the night at a friend’s house, they run to me. When they’ve learned a new trick or made a good grade, when they have a difficult question or a problem at school, my daughters come to me.

But when they get hurt…..

…they go to their mother.

When they skin their knee, they go to their mother. When they’re sick, they go to their mother. When they have a fight with a friend, when they don’t make the team, when they smash a finger in a kitchen drawer, they run to mom.

Because they know how I am. “Suck it up, girl! Let’s go! What? Are you crying? Come on! I’ve had bigger scratches on my eyelid! Walk it off! Rub some dirt on it! What’s the matter with you?”

When children are hurt they go to their mother. Physical pain. Emotional pain. When it’s deep and it’s real, they go to mom. Because mother will meet you with a Band-Aid. Mother has a hug. Mother wipes away all the tears. Mother will just hold you and kiss you and carry you. Mother always knows exactly what you need. A mother’s love is warmer. It’s more sensitive. It’s more in tune. When you’re really hurting, you need your mother.

“As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you.” ~Isaiah 66:13

Have you ever pictured God as a mother? God does.

When God’s people are at their lowest — the temple’s destroyed, the holy city is in ruins, they’re scattered in exile, they’re experiencing deep separation, pain, loneliness, and despair; when the only memories they have are bad and the only future they have is bleak — God says, “I will hold you and comfort you. Just like a mom. I have borne you and I will love you forever. Just like a mom.”

In Isaiah 49, God’s people say, “The Lord has forsaken me. The Lord has forgotten me.” And God replies, “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you!”

And that’s reason for joy.

“Shout for joy, O heavens; rejoice, O earth; burst into song, O mountains!
For the Lord comforts his people and will have compassion
on his afflicted ones.” ~Isaiah 49:13

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An emailed comment from a loyal reader regarding last week’s picture of the 24 elders from Revelation 4-5 casting their crowns down at the heavenly throne: “Great comments, awful picture. Old white guys as elders? Really?”

OK, that’s fair. You got me. I’ll forever stand on the biblical picture of elders being old(er) and guys. There’s no debating that. Ever. But you’re absolutely right on the absurdity of all 24 elders being white. That doesn’t hardly capture the revelation of Christ as these elders representing “every tribe and language and people and nation.” Not at all.

Sorry. Good catch.

If anyone can email me a picture or a link to a picture which represents the elders around the throne as from every color and language and nation, please do.

Peace,

Allan

The Great Exchange

July 20, 2009 / Allan / 0 Comments

The Gospel is all about changing places. It’s about substitution. Someone taking my place. Me filling in for someone else. Christ paying a debt he didn’t owe. Me bearing the burdens that belong to my brother. An exchange. A switch-out.

The Gospel is this way because our God is this way.

God is love. And love — real love, intimate love, liberating love, gospel love — is all about this exchange.

Think about your small group that meets Sunday night. Think of the emotionally wounded person in that group. There is no way to listen to and love that person and stay completely emotionally put-together yourself. As you listen to him and attend to him, he will probably begin to feel stronger and better. But that won’t happen without you being emotionally drained yourself. There’s an exchange. And it takes its toll.

Parenting is the same way. We sacrifice and give and serve in order that our children may live. We decrease so they will increase.

God’s salvation through Christ works the same way. He submits to man. He leaves his heavenly home. He serves. He suffers and sacrifices. He takes on shame to give us glory. He dies so we can live.

John Stott wrote:

The essence of sin is we human beings substituting ourselves for God, while the essence of salvation is God substituting himself for us. We put ourselves where only God deserves to be; God puts himself where we deserve to be.

If we’ll open our eyes and look for it, we’ll see that the exchange is happening all around us. We live in this exchange. Praise God for the great exchange!

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Busy weekend. Thanks to J and Laurie Bailey, we were able to watch the Rangers at the Ballpark Saturday night with their sweet family and some other guests. Another Rangers loss in which Texas scored only one run. But this one was a little easier to take since we were in J’s super suite directly behind home plate. Whitney, of course, hung on every pitch, while Valerie and Carley took books to read and mostly laid around inside the suite, reading and eating cotton candy. They even managed to get one of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies on the big screen TV. How embarrassing. Thanks, Baileys. We had a blast.

We dropped the two little girls off at Three Mountain Camp just south of Lake Whitney yesterday afternoon. This is Carley’s first camp, so Carrie-Anne got a little weird. Thinking about Carley sometimes makes me a little weird, too. Two weeks ago Carley finally jumped up in the hallway at home and hit the top of the bedroom door frame with her hand. She’s been trying for over year. Now she’s hit it. And now she jumps up and hits the top of every door frame in the whole house, everywhere she goes. Just like I did when I was her age. She’s big now, right? No more little kids. They’re all able to hit the top of the door. I suppose the ceiling’s next. I think Valerie’s still a year away.

Thanks to Kipi Ward who’s managing that 3rd-4th grade cabin down there for taking and posting some pictures.

So, it was just the three of us last night: C-A and Whitney and me. Just like it was for almost four years. We got back from Three Mountain just in time to take in a late night concert in Dallas. I know, Gene Paul, that singing “Sharp Dressed Man” with 25,000 people isn’t the same as singing “Hey, Jude” with 80,000 people. OK, you’re right, it’s not even close. But we had a great time.

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Yesterday was Aaron and Jennifer Green’s last day here at Legacy. This really stinks. They’re being forced to re-locate to Katy, Texas in the Houston area. They fought it. But, now they’re gone. Aaron and Jennifer are those kind of people that, as a preacher, you really, really, really appreciate. Jennifer was up here at least two or three days a week, every week, for as long as I’ve been here, working in and for our children’s ministry. Aaron jumped immediately into the middle of our move to weekly Small Groups Church, serving on the planning committee and co-leading his own groups during both cycles. He also plays a vital role in the leadership of our young families class here. They both work tirelessly behind the scenes and show up for everything. Man, they’re leaving a big hole here at Legacy. It was a tough day around here because of that. But they’re going to bless a lucky group of Christians somewhere down in Katy.

We love y’all, Greens. We send you to Katy with our love and our prayers and our appreciation. We send you with the grace and peace of our Lord and Savior, Christ Jesus. We send you to the disciples in Katy to bless them and encourage them, as you have us. And we send you to join them in redeeming the world back to our God.

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There are 55 days left until the Cowboys kick off the NFL season. Probably less than 55 minutes left until Jerry Wayne holds another press conference about another event coming to his new stadium. But we’re concerned with the start of football season here. And we’re counting down the days with our Red Ribbon Review, a look at the second-best players in Cowboys history, according to jersey number. Before today’s #55, we’ll catch up with yesterday’s #56.

Eugene Lockhart. “Mean Gene the Hittin’ Machine.” A sixth-round draft pick in 1984, Lockhart became the first rookie to ever start for the Cowboys at middle linebacker when Bob Breunig was lost halfway through the season due to injury. Lockhart stayed there for six more seasons and became one of the very few bright stars on some pretty bad teams. He made over a hundred tackles in every season but his broken leg year of 1987, and still holds several team records for tackles, including the single season total of 222 he set in 1989. That was the year Lockhart racked up double digit tackle numbers in all 16 games, including a team-record 16 stops against the Cards. That was also Jimmy Johnson’s 1-15 first year in Dallas. So Lockhart’s accomplishments mainly went unnoticed. He was traded to the Patriots following the 1990 season for a number one draft pick that turned into Russell Maryland. As he was cleaning out his locker at Valley Ranch, Lockhart was heard to say, “It’s a cold business — a cold, cold business. And it’s even colder in New England.”

Today’s #55 is another Cowboys middle linebacker, Robert Jones. Jones was Dallas’ first round pick in 1992, the 24th player chosen overall, and the first from East Carolina University to ever be taken in the first round. He played only four years for the Cowboys. Just 56 total games. But they were the four glory years of the Cowboys’ dynasty that decade. Jones was named the NFC Rookie of the Year in ’92. And the Cowboys went to four straight NFC Championship Games, winning three conference titles and three Super Bowls. He went on to play for the Rams and the Dolphins. But for four years, he was the defensive signal-caller on the NFL’s best team.

Peace,

Allan

Saying "No" To Creating Spectators

June 18, 2009 / Allan / 0 Comments

I’m still not finished with that second desert temptation of Jesus. Two more things. One today and one more tomorrow. If Jesus would have jumped off the roof of the temple and allowed God’s angels to save him in front of all those crowds, it would have been quite the spectacle. Amazing. Incredible. Wow.

Do it again.

People would have kept showing up every week, every day, if Jesus were going to jump. And that would have created a community of spectators, a group of people who came for the show. They would be there faithfully. Every time the doors were opened. And they would watch. They would sit back and watch. And then they’d go to lunch and talk about what they saw. They’d critique this week’s jump. How did it make you feel? What did you like or not like about this week’s jump? A community of watchers. Spectators.

Might that be one of the reasons Jesus said “No”? Creating spectators is not The Jesus Way.

I believe there’s a real temptation to try to dazzle our people in our worship centers on Sunday mornings. More culturally-relevant songs, more culturally-desired audio and video presentations, a more culturally-acceptable pace and tempo and environment. If we’re not careful, we’ll create a community of spectators, a generation—or several—of not disciples but spiritual couch potatoes. We’ll find ourselves filling up our bleachers and trying to give our people a show. Or an experience. I think that’s a very real temptation today.

And that’s just the opposite of The Jesus Way.

Jesus invites his disciples to participate, never to just watch. He invites us to participate in the worship and to join him in the mission. He sends us out together in groups of two and groups of 12 with his power and with his authority to drive out demons and cure diseases and to preach the Kingdom of God and to heal the sick (Luke 9). When he feeds the five thousand in Luke 9 Jesus gives the bread and the fish to his disciples and has them serve it to the people. Participate. Get involved. Don’t just sit there.

The Jesus Way is to get up and get busy. Everybody. Nobody just watches. We minister as we’re ministered to. We care as we’re cared for. We forgive as we’re being forgiven. We love as we’re being loved. Together. That’s The Jesus Way.

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Thanks to Dale Bankhead and Brian Kendall (we’ve got to stop calling him Brittany’s husband!) Whitney and I got to take in Tuesday’s Rangers-Astros game in some sweet seats in the Ballpark. Ian Kinsler went deep in his first two at bats. Millwood and Jennings combined on a nice five-hitter. And Pudge Rodriguez tied Pudge Fisk for the all-time major league lead in games started as a catcher. (We gave Rodriguez a standing O when he hit his solo shot to cut the Texas lead to 6-1. I doubt he would have received the same level of love if his blast would have meant something for Houston.) A Lemon Chill and a new Josh Hamilton jersey for the Whitster, ballpark nachos for me, a big Rangers win and a great daddy-daughter night for both of us.

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Our Little Middle, Valerie, has been down in San Antonio all week on a Junior High trip to minister to urban children in the downtown parts of the Alamo City. We haven’t spoken to her since they left Sunday afternoon. But we’re able to keep up with her through the miracle of Lance’s blog. (It’s a miracle he’s actually updating it three or four times a day.) What a joy to log on and see Val, from 200 miles away, reading with little kids, teaching a Bible story with puppets, and giving piggy back rides. She’s so good with little children. She has a heart for that kind of thing. I think our God is going to use her to touch a lot of people in her lifetime.

Category: Valerie (Page 15 of 17)

Marvelous Falls

I Owe You a Post

Another Teenager

As A Mother Comforts Her Child…

The Great Exchange

Saying "No" To Creating Spectators

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