The Kingdom, The Kids, & The Cowboys

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The Gifts of Preaching

August 1, 2011 / / 2 Comments

I’m cleaning out my study at Legacy today. Boxing up books. Packing the commentaries and knick knacks. Pulling the pictures down from the walls and throwing away a bunch of stuff, too. It’s taking me longer —  a whole lot longer — than it should to pack up and clean out a 17′ x 11′ room. That’s because I keep coming across the gifts.

The framed autographed photo of Steve Martin taken from a scene in “The Jerk.” Todd D gave it to me a couple of weeks after I had referenced the scene in a sermon on the distractions of material possessions. Plus an original promotional booklet for the movie “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World,” also presented to me a couple of weeks after I compared Ethel Merman’s character to Peninnah in 1 Samuel. Todd D is also the same guy who snail mails me an envelope full of random cartoons every couple of months. I’ve found several of them today. My favorite is the old lady behind the counter at a sidewalk kiosk proclaiming to passers-by, “…and I’m wearing a thong!” The caption says, “The Too-Much-Information Booth.”

A tiny little three-eyed alien from Toy Story sits on top of my tape dispenser, a gift from our Children’s Minister, Jennifer. She had used the little guys in a staff devo one morning to remind us that just as the toys are chosen by The Claw, we are chosen. We are chosen by God. We belong to him. We are his.

A roll of Life Savers with a note attached: Preacher Timer – Upon reaching pulpit, place one unit in mouth; when Life Saver disappears, so should the preacher! Howard C gave that to me a couple of years ago.

A bar of goat milk cheese given to me by Salvador Cariaga, our missionary to the Philippines. The Christians there are becoming economically self-sufficient by the grace of God as he works in and through all those goats. I joked from the pulpit one Sunday while Salvador was in town that I was glad our elders didn’t pay me with a goat. The next morning, I was greeted in my office by a live goat, courtesy of Jack’s Sunday morning Bible class!

There’s a big white posterboard on the door to my study that declares me “the best preacher ever.” It was made and colored and scotch taped there by Camryn and Brighton, two of the sweetest little girls at Legacy. It fell a couple of weeks ago. I taped it back up.

Here’s an electrical outlet spray painted gold hanging from a string of electrical wire and couplers. Keith R gave this to me after installing five ceiling fans in my house and discovering up close how un-handy I am with and around electricity.

The wooden carving of the old pioneer preacher was given to me by Steve P. Dana J gave me the beautiful crown of thorns that I used during our four week sermon series leading up to this past Easter. Joe A gave me a framed copy of our first family picture for the Legacy pictorial directory. Dawson B gave me the little miniature Homer from his Simpsons happy meal. Wayne S took and framed a picture of Whitney and Carley and me standing in a long line in the Academy parking lot at midnight to buy T-shirts celebrating the Rangers’ American League Championship victory over the hated Yankees. Paul Dennis just gave me this copy of Yancey’s Soul Survivor: How My Faith Survived the Church, figuring it might be good reading right about now. And the picture of Quincy and me at his naturalization ceremony sits to my left among photos of my kids.

Gifts. My office is filled with gifts. Every wall, every shelf, every corner contains a gift from somebody here at Legacy. And it takes me longer to pack this stuff because each gift is connected to a person. A story. A relationship.

Those are the real gifts.

It’s not the wood carving; it’s praying with Steve and Pat in their home while he endured multiple foot surgeries and amputations and prosthetics and rehab related to his diabetes, crying with Steve as he recounted the kindness shown to him by his brothers and sisters at Legacy who remodeled most of his home to accomodate his wheelchair.

It’s not the poster; it’s Camryn’s deep friendship with my youngest daughter and Brighton’s really loud comment to a crowd the Saturday night before my last sermon here: “Preach for two hours, Allan, and if anybody has a problem with it, they can come see me!” It’s my love for both of their families who have encouraged me and supported me and loved me unconditionally for every moment of my ministry here.

It’s not the bar of soap; it’s getting to know Salvador’s son and encouraging him in his studies and his Christian ministry; it’s being there for the funeral of Salvador’s father-in-law; it’s praying with him for the poor people in the Philippines and then being inspired by his life of selfless service.

It’s not the little green alien; it’s remembering that Jennifer always tells me — usually right before or after prayer together, sometimes through tears — church work and ministry is not supposed to be easy. If it were easy, it wouldn’t take faith.

It’s not the book; it’s being there at his house within an hour of Paul finding out his son had been killed in a car accident; it’s the huge bear hugs and his tears and his sensitive heart. And his great pain. His unspeakable pain.

It’s not the Homer toy; it’s knowing that I’ll be there to tell him how proud I am of him when Dawson puts on our Lord in baptism this next Sunday.

It’s not the pictures and candies and crowns and cartoons and books. It’s the lives. Those are the gifts that are handed to preachers every day. The gifts of people’s lives. They open them up to us. They give themselves to us. They pour themselves out in front of us. Every day they share themselves with us. They say things to us they would never say to anyone else. They confess sin to us. They dare to dream really big dreams with us. They make promises. They express concerns. They cry. They pray. In front of us. For us. They are vulnerable with us. They give and give and give to us. Nobody else gets gifts like these. And we get them every day!

What a blessing. What a burden. What a beautiful and amazing thing it is to receive these kinds of wonderful gifts.

That’s why it’s taking so long to pack up my study.

Peace,

Allan

Last Sunday

July 24, 2011 / / 0 Comments

Dearest Legacy Family,

I do not possess the eloquence necessary to convey today my deep love for each of you. As I write this, I’m typing through tears because of my strong affection for you and this church and also because I’m certain that what is in my heart will not be communicated well enough to you today.

Five years ago you placed a faith in me that I didn’t even have in myself. You welcomed my family and me with calls and emails, letters and cards, hugs and casseroles. You honored me by giving me your platform from which to speak to you a faithful word from our God. In time, you grew to love me. And you showed it so well.

I thank our God for my brothers and sisters at Legacy — for you! — who have supported my family and me while we have ministered in this place. You have loved us and encouraged us. You have treated my children as your own. You have challenged me and prayed with me. You have taught me and matured me. You have shown tremendous patience and understanding with me. You have forgiven me. We have grown together. A lot. And you have given and given and given to me more than I could ever possibly ask or imagine.

And we love you, too. Oh, my word. We love you all so much.

Thank you.

Your many expressions of kindness and generosity over the past two weeks have just blown us away. You’ve overwhelmed us again with calls and emails, letters and cards, hugs and casseroles. Thank you for loving us more than we could ever deserve.

“The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.”           ~Numbers 6:24-26

We will always consider you our dear family. Please always consider us your servants in our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, to the eternal praise and glory of our Father in heaven.

Peace,

Allan

“A Fork in the Road”

July 22, 2011 / / 0 Comments

Lord, I don’t want to be a mile-marker on the road of life, that as people pass me by, maybe they notice, maybe they don’t. It doesn’t matter. They continue on in the same direction as before.

But I want to be a fork in the road.

So that when people meet me they must decide which way to go. Because when they meet me, they don’t just meet me. They meet the Christ who lives in me.

~Jim Eliot, from The Shadow of the Almighty, 1956

Arkansas Oasis

July 21, 2011 / / 3 Comments

“Guess what it is!”

Nelda walked right up to me in the hallway leading out of the worship center into the main foyer of the Benton Church of Christ. We had reached the point of visiting after church at which deacons flip the light switches to hurry us to our cars. Nelda is one of these really nice older ladies at church who’s been there forever. And she was carrying a plastic Wal-Mart bag.

“I have no idea what it is, Nelda,” I answered. “How could I possibly know?”

“Feel it!”

I felt it. It was cold. And lumpy. I had no clue.

So she showed it to me. A skinned squirrel. Head and all. Skinned and ready for cooking. Nelda had been keeping it cool in the church refrigerator and was now taking it home for lunch. She told me all about frying it up, what parts of the squirrel were best, how long she’s been eating squirrel, and how silly I am for thinking it is really, really gross.

I said it out loud before I mentally evaluated the whole situation to see if it would be okay to say: “We must be in Arkansas!”

For nearly a month I had been almost dreading my four day speaking engagement in Arkansas. I love that church there. I dearly love Jim & Mandy and Jimmy & Elizabeth and their precious kids. I’m always encouraged when I go there. And I never laugh more than when I’m hanging out with Jim and Jimmy. But the timing was bad. I’m in the middle of changing churches. We’re in the middle of trying to both sell a house here in North Richland Hills and look for a house in Amarillo. We’re flying up there twice in the next three weeks. I’ve got a last sermon to write. You can’t believe all the phone calls and emails and letters and texts. Meeting brand new people. Processing “good-byes” with our best friends. I don’t have time to spend four days in Arkansas.

I arrived Saturday night to find Trae’s back bedroom ready for me. Yellow walls and zebra-striped sheets and books about horses. A 24-pack of Diet Dr Pepper in the fridge. Hugs and prayers. Words of encouragement and comfort from a great friend who’s been exactly where I am.

Then Nelda’s squirrel Sunday morning. Jimmy in a giant panda suit that I think he enjoyed a little too much. Eric providing a running commentary of singing and humming and synonyms and thoughts throughout each of my eleven sermons from his seat on the left side of the third row. Clyde and Linda were there. Breakfast at Wilma’s house with biscuits and chocolate gravy. (Chocolate gravy?!? Again, we must be in Arkansas.) Lunch at the Benton Kiwanis club with Freddy from church, Will the new fire chief, Julia the warm and crazy club president, and Bill the county coroner. (His stories about the man who literally ate himself to death at the local Sonic last week and the lady who died in front of the TV in her recliner last month but was just thought to be asleep by her husband and daughter for nearly two days reminded me of a Seinfeld episode in which Kramer tells the boys, “If you meet a proctologist at a party, stay right by his side; you’ll hear the funniest stories.”)

Watching Jim minister to people, comfort and encourage people, love on people in the church where he was born and raised. Praying with the Northside shepherds over the needs of their congregation and the world. Being encouraged and comforted and loved by so many wonderful people I barely know.

The Arkansas Oasis was exactly what I needed. Quiet time — lots of quiet alone time with just God and me — among all the hairclips and Legos in Trae’s room. Prayer time. Reflection time. Thinking time. I’m telling you, it did me so much good to have that quiet time away from the immediate pressures of Legacy and Central, to be away from all the things that absolutely have to be done right this second. Yeah, there were still phone calls and emails. But I was removed. I was far enough away to reflect with my Lord and his Word on where God has taken me and where he’s leading me now. I had time to wrestle with and pray through some of the things that confront me in Wade Hodges’ book, Before You Go. Working through my Running the Race series with Northside also gave me ample opportunity to think about my own race, the course in front of me, the endurance and perseverance it will take to complete the race, and the unsurpassed power of my God that will get me across the finish line.

I want to write more about Wade’s book. I want to write much more about these amazing gifts from God at Legacy, these wonderful people at this church where I’ve been so blessed to minister for the past four years. I also want to honor Central in this space and express the excitement and enthusiasm that’s building up inside me for what our God’s going to do with me and through me in Amarillo. I want to write about my church secretaries past and present and future. I want to share with you my thoughts about leaving and arriving. I want to express in this blog my love for Quincy and Paul and Sherry, Dana and Jennifer and Jerry, and others here at Legacy who have been so vital to me and my work here.  I want to write down every single one of the very strong and very mixed feelings I have swirling around in my brain right now without it reading like a whole bunch of disjointed ramblings.

But that may have to wait. I’m still working on that last sermon that I’m delivering here Sunday. We have another open house this weekend at Stanglin Manor. We’re flying to Amarillo Monday morning to look at houses. We’ve scheduled a last trip to Tyler to see Jason & Tiersa and I’ve got a final lunch with my preaching brothers here in Tarrant County and a last meal with the Four Horsemen. All of that in the next seven days.

God knew I needed that time in Arkansas.

I’m ready now for the tasks ahead. I’m prepared to do all the very difficult things that are in front of me. All of them. To the eternal praise and glory of God.

Peace,

Allan

To Central

July 13, 2011 / / 4 Comments

I can’t adequately express to you the excitement we’re experiencing, nor the tremendous anticipation we’re feeling, for what our God has in store for us together. There’s no doubt in our minds that our Lord has brought us together at this time for very specific reasons. And we really can’t wait to join you in doing his work and his will together in Amarillo.

We’re so thankful for the faith and confidence you’ve placed in me and my family to represent our Lord and his Church at Central. That blessing and responsibility are not lost on us. It is sacred to us. We respect it. We cherish. And we’re going to keep it. This is so much bigger than all of us. We know that anything and everything that happens through me or through us together at Central is only our God using us to his glory and to the glory of his Kingdom.

Thank you so much for the warm welcome you’re already giving us. By 2:00 Sunday afternoon, I already had more than 30 emails and voice mails and text messages from our new family at Central, more than half of them from people we haven’t even met yet. And the encouragement and offers of assistance and friendly ‘hellos’ keep coming in. We can feel the excitement up there all the way down here. And it gives us great hope while we dwell among all these moving boxes and sad goodbyes. Each trip up there, every person we’ve met, has been a great blessing to us. Your kindness and generosity is overwhelming. We’re so ready to meet all of you and start returning the favors. And we’re looking forward to many years of faithful service together at Central.

“I long to see you so that I may impart to you some spiritual gift to make you strong — that is, that you and I may be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith.” ~Romans 1:11-12

Be assured that each of you and your families are in our constant prayers. Please be in fervent prayer for us as we prepare to join the Central Church of Christ. May our God bless us. And may he bless our efforts to partner with him in the redemption of his world.

Your servant in the grace and truth of Christ Jesus,

Allan

To Legacy

July 11, 2011 / / 9 Comments

My family and I will always listen for God’s voice. We will always follow his way. We will always answer his call. Through prayer and study and meditation and reflection and conversation, we will always be receptive to our Father’s leading.

Over the past several months it has become very clear to me that I cannot remain as the preaching minister at the Legacy Church of Christ. God has made it evident in some very surprising ways and in some ways that have been building for quite some time. So, again, after many weeks and months of difficult discernment, we have made the hard decision to leave our family at Legacy.

At the same time, our faithful Father has opened a door of tremendous opportunity for us in Amarillo. I have accepted the role of preaching minister at the Central Church of Christ and will begin my work there in September. Central is a downtown church with a downtown mindset, determined to reach its downtown community with the love of our Savior. They are driven by the mission to take Jesus to all peoples, all cultures, all languages, all tax brackets. That church seems to be defined by sacrificial service to others in the name of Jesus. They are committed to the arduous task of making their congregation reflect the Gospel nature of the all-inclusive table of our Lord. And most of you reading this blog know how attractive that is to me.

Of course, we leave Legacy with a great deal of sadness. My heart is heavy. I’ll forever be indebted to Legacy for showing such a tremendous faith in our God in bringing me here in the first place. Five years ago, you had absolutely no reason to have any faith in me. Your faith was obviously in our Father. And I thank you. You have nurtured me. You have supported me, encouraged me, and walked with me. You’ve shown great patience with me. And understanding. You’ve helped me.  Since day one, you’ve lovingly embraced my whole family. There are hundreds of you who have touched Carrie-Anne and me and our girls in profound and eternal ways. I have never felt for one minute that I was not loved at Legacy. We love you, too. A bunch.

Now, this is not the end of the world for me or for Legacy. It’s not like I’m leaving ministry. I’m not going back into radio. We are all still involved together in the great work of the Kingdom of our God. We still belong to the same Church of God. We’re still on the same board, working for the same mission and goals; I’m just moving to a different square.

As for Legacy, I’m convinced that this is the right move. I did not establish this church. And neither did you. This church was cruising along for almost fifty years before I got here and it’ll be just fine for fifty or five-hundred years after I’m gone. God established this congregation and he put it right here on Mid-Cities Boulevard for his specific purposes. He placed Legacy right where it is to be a light to this community. He placed it here so people in Northeast Tarrant County will find forgiveness and mercy and grace and love. He put Legacy right here in order to reach the lost, in order to comfort and bless and save. I firmly believe that our Father already knows the next Legacy preacher. This guy is a devoted man of God. And he will, by God’s grace and the power of the Holy Spirit, take Legacy to places I wouldn’t be able to. My prayer is that, with this man, my brothers and sisters here will embrace God’s vision and identify God’s holy mission for Legacy and jump into it with everything you’ve got. And turn everything rightside up for Christ.

I’m leaving Saturday for a four-day speaking engagement at the Northside Church in Benton, Arkansas where my great friend Jim Gardner preaches. So I won’t be here this Sunday. My shepherds here at Legacy have graciously allowed me a last opportunity to preach here at Legacy on July 24. I wanted the final chance to encourage you, to bless you, to affirm my great love for you, and to remind you of God’s marvelous plans for you.

You and each of your families and the entire Legacy family are in my constant prayers. Please keep us in yours.

May our God’s will be done at Legacy just as it is in heaven.

I love you,

Allan

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