Last night I found myself yawning while halfway through that stunning foray into modern film making that is the movie, “Twister.”

Right when it was getting “good,” I got up, turned off the TV and lights, locked the doors and went to bed.  I had begrudgingly remembered the lesson I learned in Seminary (not in class, that would have been too practical) that sometimes Spiritual Disciplines are as much about what you don’t do as they are about what you do – the routines you practice seeking Spiritual growth.

More succinctly put, being well rested allows a fresh mind and body to pursue God.  Sometimes that means going to bed instead of staying up and watching TV, reading, playing games, cruising Main Street…  you get the idea.

This is against my nature, and I mean more than just my “sin nature.”  I’m a night owl.  I like to stay up as late as is humanly possible and then meander off to bed in a fog of semi-consciousness.

Then the pesky alarm goes off and I have to wake up and start the day.  For me, after showering and dressing, I go through my devotion time.

But I do poorly, if I’ve stayed up late.  I labor to focus and persist in prayer less.  Then I struggle through the day, buoyed by neither a good night’s rest nor a significant time with God.

One other thing that derails me:  Being on the computer when it’s time to start my devotion.

Gotta go.

A few pictures I took of my family about a month ago.

Click on a thumbnail to enlarge.

[Show as slideshow]

If you like these, you might like to browse my flickr or photoblog.  (Same pics, different layout)

My friend Cole Hedgecock posted an article detailing the causes of PK’s (Preacher’s Kids for all you non-churchy folks) leaving the church when they become adults.  Fascinating stuff, you can read it at his blog, Colemine Extractions: Why PK’s leave the church.

There’s a lot there, but I think you can reduce it all into the ability to make the home of the Pastor a “normal” one.  Where the experience of growing up at the center of the church’s perspective is not all that different from being the “average” kid in the church.

Here are some things we’ve tried to do in order to make sure our kids are as close to normal as possible.

1. Make sure that you don’t ask your kids to be “perfect.”  Pastors are often times perfectionists (typically first borns) and they can be demanding.  Don’t be unrealistic.
2. Be honest about your spiritual ups and downs.  They have them.  If they know you have them, they know it’s “normal” and don’t feel like they can’t live up to your seemingly abnormal spirituality.
3. Be good talkers and listeners.  All parents need to be good listeners, but you need it more.  If you notice that your kid is not telling you something, then gently work harder to build the trust that allows them to talk about it.  And when they tell you something that sends you reeling, don’t freak out or it’s the last thing you’ll hear from them until they’ve made some huge mistakes.
4. Communicate to the church that your kids don’t have special expectations from you and that you are telling them that they don’t have to live up to anyone’s special expectations from the church.  The church needs to expect the same from them as they do from the next kid in the Youth Group.
5. Be there.  It is a must that your job is not 40 hrs/week and that you are always on call, however… you must lock out  time to coach their little league or soccer teams.  Attend their extra curricular events.  Take pictures while you are there and put them all over Facebook or Flickr.  Let them see that you value them.  If they know that you value the church over them by always being at meetings and other responsibilities instead of their things, you can expect that they will resent it.  Your first responsibility as pastor is to pastor your family.  The church has to accept this as well.  Not all churches do.  If they don’t, perhaps they aren’t the church for you.
6. Laugh.  A lot.  We keep running jokes in our house and celebrate our kids’ senses of humor.  Nothing feels good like fun and a fun family is cherished, not resented.

Those are a few of my thoughts.  Anything you’d like to add?

Little Photography for ya today.  My son’s Cross Country team.

Click on a thumbnail to enlarge.

[Show as slideshow]

If you like these, my flickr account is here and my photoblog is here.  (Same pics at both places.)

Yesterday, I wrote an article on forgiving others that was spurred by a conversation with a good friend.  The conclusion of that article suggested that it is simply more relaxing and enjoyable for you to forgive than to do anything else.

This conclusion, though, begs the question, “When I forgive, does everything go back to the way it was?”

The answer is, “No. Never. Never in a million years.”  But more on that in a moment.

We first must differentiate between forgiving and reconciling, which is fairly easy to do.

To Forgive is something you can do with or without the offending party’s participation.  Forgiveness is completely within your grasp.  Nothing but you can stop you from forgiving.

To Reconcile is something that you both must do.  It is the restoration of love, trust and friendship.  To reconcile you must be able to accept your failures, their failures and whatever offenses have been (usually this goes both ways) have got to be made right.  Either you or they make reparations for the offense(s) or they are intentionally forgiven by the offended party.

To reconcile, both parties must be mutually satisfied with the restoration.

Which brings us back to the question of whether or not things go back to the way they were, and my answer: No. Never. Never in a million years.

Whether or not you simply choose to forgive or are able to reconcile, you are never the same.

Forgiving instead of reconciling implies the offender hasn’t made things right, which means they haven’t earned back our trust.  That relationship is never the same.

I have numerous relationships with people that I have forgiven, that are congenial and friendly, but I don’t trust them anymore.  I give us all the gift of forgiveness so that things aren’t tense or mean spirited.  That doesn’t mean that I am open to being taken advantage of repeatedly.

When you reconcile, on the other hand, things are never the same again either… they’re better.  Like the schoolyard fight between children, we can shake hands and become best friends afterward.  It takes us to a new level that is not possible without us both being honest, accepting our responsibilities and doing whatever we can to make right what we’ve done wrong.

Just by the way, Jesus (and the rest of the Bible) encourages reconciliation.  Forgiveness is the second best option and only when the other person won’t participate.

I suppose that the key to being able to forgive just might lie in the ability of the wounded party to understand what pardon brings to them.

It’s human nature to nurse a grudge and it just feels good.  For a while.  I always enjoy that (self)righteous feeling of the moral high ground.  Too bad, I suppose, that it’s just an illusion.

No matter how innocent I am within the dynamics of any particular situation, the truth is that I am just as capable… just as guilty… of taking advantage.  Twisting the truth.  Improving my own situation at the expense of others.

There is no moral high ground within humanity.  We are all quite wicked.

Still, this is not the most important mental gateway to forgiveness.  Rather, that would be the realization that failing to absolve another only enslaves you.  For the most part, the object of your wrath will be ignorant of your opinion, but even if they are not, they are most capable of creating their own Moral Mountain on which to stand, matching your viewpoint with an equal opposite.

And yet, even that pales in comparison to the impact dispensing clemency has on you.  It is liberating.

A grievance is a burden.  Feels great for a while, but after that brief moment of self delusion wherein you have some sort of unassailable virtue, your rancor begins to exhaust you.

Every time you see your offender, you are right back in the prison of a self generated unpleasant mood.  Every time you think about them, you are oppressed by this obligation to anger.

And you don’t have to bear it.  It is completely up to you whether or not you continue in your animosity.

Only don’t suppose that I suffer from the misconception that mercy is an easy thing to dispense.  Just because it’s good for you, doesn’t mean we like it.  Still, it is medicine for the soul, no matter how difficult it is to swallow.

To sum up:  Let it go.  It’s exhausting to play “King of Moral Mountain” and it’s a comfort to be happy instead, so do it because it makes your own life better, not to mention that it improves the lives of those around you – maybe even your nemesis.

Before I get to the steps, let me hasten to say that they are not original to me, but I heard them in a recorded sermon almost 20 years ago.  You might note, then, they were quite memorable.  Sadly, I can’t remember the pastor who preached the sermon, so as much credit as I can give, I have given…

1.  Surrender to obedience.  You might note that the title of this post is NOT 3 easy steps to knowing and doing God’s will.  There are not many things more difficult that to surrender to obedience for the human will, but to know and do God’s will, it is essential that you agree to do whatever it is God tells you to do.

We can not expect that God is going to gently guide us through life if we are consistently rebellious to His direction.

2.  Seek diligently.  Frequently.  Constantly.  Ask God to reveal what He wants you to do.  God is not capricious and does not hide from those who seek Him.  If you tune your heart to Him, He will reveal Himself to you.

3.  Relax.  If you surrender to do what God asks you to do no matter what it is and you consistently pursue the leadership – He will get you where He wants you to go.

It’s not complex.  It’s just not easy.

I drove home from Church Sunday after worshiping together with the Skelly Drive family for the first time in two weeks.  A blizzard had hit and knocked us out of our Christmas Eve service and later the Sunday morning service on the 27th.  The latter service being canceled kept everyone from being together, though our family had crept out of town on snow and ice covered roads to go with family to ski in New Mexico.

The crowd was down and I imagine that it had to do with people traveling and the fact that our roads were still a bit sketchy and we had another small bout of snow the night before.  It was good to be with my church family.

Still, as I drove home the powdered snow moved like vapor down the road before me and the city had a desolate look about it.  The dregs of the blizzard had been shoved to the side of the streets, building 2 foot high curbs of crusty slush now gray with dirt and exhaust and very few were out and about.

As I drove, I was mesmerized by the ebb and flow of the snow dust that swirled on the road before me, being chased by the wind that came from behind, it created a surreal vision.

There are so many things that are swirling through our church and my life right now, that the scene before me took on a deeper representation for me.

Curious to few, then, that I had felt led to preach on Matthew 11:25-30 just a few moments previous.  God’s like that.  Knows what you need before you have the slightest idea.

The Scripture?  You might recognize the closing words:

Come to Me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. All of you, take up My yoke and learn from Me, because I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for yourselves. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.

I still feel a bit overwhelmed by it all, but I am so grateful that the success of all that swirls around me is not dependent on me, but upon the One Who Is Author of all things, simple and complex.

More to come soon…

Last week my baby daughter – the pink princess – turned 13.  She’s been moving too quickly toward this date for some time, but there is no help for it now.  Both my kids are teenagers.

Serving for 19+ years in Youth Ministry kept me younger and more able to relate, but that only goes so far.  It’s like saying I’m the Limburger Cheese that stinks the least.

Nevertheless, I have adopted a particularly uncool behavior to my relationships with each of my kids:  I tell them I love them.  All the time.  In public. While they are with their friends. While they are getting out of the car on the occasion that I drop them off.  All the time and in every place we happen to be.

And they don’t disappoint.  In typical teenaged fashion, they bow their heads and move along as quickly and quietly as they can to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and the occasional snicker from their friends.

I know a few parents who might choose not to say this to them because it is clear they are embarrassed.  The kids might even request it, which is a wound suffered deeply, no doubt.

Another slight is experienced by the parent that expects a return promise of fidelity. The “I love you, too” that doesn’t come and whose absence hangs like an offensive odor before the parent now left alone to endure it.

I don’t care.  It doesn’t bother me one bit that they are embarrassed or that they don’t return my expression of affection.

I tell them “I love you” against their will and without any concern for reciprocation because I say it for them.  They need to hear it from me and they need to hear it often.  Who they are is greatly shaped by the confidence they are cared for and accepted, especially from their parents and especially in their teens.

So I give that affirmation to them even when they don’t give it back and I am the “uncool” Dad.  I can be that, if they will be whole.  Easy trade.

Sorry, Jimmy and Hannah.  You are going to be openly loved and hugged and cheered for and claimed.  I am unashamed.  It may not be what you want, but I am sure it is what you need. So just take your medicine and I’ll check you again when you’re 20 or so.

Oh, and I love you.  Always will.