I’m working from home today. It’s a great working environment: calm and focused. Our dog lies peacefully at my feet. Until a vehicle dares to enter our cul-de-sac, that is. Then our 25-pound Australian Labradoodle leaps to the window, both paws on the window sill, and turns into a ferocious beast.
The Amazon delivery guy pulls up to the curb, jumps out with a package in tow, and places it at the front door. Our dog howls as though a cadre of gunmen have encircled our property. This is no sociable bark to his neighborhood doggie friends: this is a protect-the-house-at-all-costs-bay. The deliveryman hustles back to his van and pulls out of the cul-de-sac.
Three. That is how many days we get our girl home from Easter until Thanksgiving. Camille just finished her junior year in college, and Soren (our son) just finished his freshman year. We are so proud of Camile and Soren. They are earnestly pursuing the Lord, filled with his grace, and just delightful people.
A parent’s role never ends; it just changes. Every time I hold a child in my arms on a dedication Sunday, I reflect on the holy and weighty call of a parent. If I had the opportunity to sit with myself over coffee on the day we dedicated our children, here is what I would say.
How to get people to be friends with machines in three easy steps: Samuel James issues a serious warning about where AI is headed, This is fundamentally different than even the porn of the traditional Internet, and many of the typical ways in which pastors and counselors address it won’t suffice. Images and videos of performers are captivating enough to damage entire generations of addicts.”
The grief that doesn’t get a eulogy: Sethlina Amakye begins, “Grief isn’t just for the ones we’ve buried. It’s also for the versions of ourselves we’ve left behind, the life we thought we’d be living, the dreams that never made it out of our hearts, the paths we thought were specific and for sure but suddenly disappeared beneath our feet.”
I’m a husband, a father, a pastor, a son, a brother, and a friend. If we lived in a world where an omniscient teacher handed out grades for our performance, I’m pretty sure I would get my highest marks as a dad. I love being a dad.
It’s supposed to be that way. God has granted us a gift in allowing us to take on the role of being a father. There is only one true Father. God graciously allows us to reflect his fatherly relationship with us to our children. What a weighty responsibility!
For some of you, that burden brings you shame this week. Father’s Day reminds you of the ways you have neglected your kids.
I was handed my Mickey Mouse shirt as we packed and told this was what I would wear (I would be matching our son, Soren). Camille and Angel, meanwhile, wore matching Minnie ears and red tank tops. It seemed a little over-the-top to me, but I’ll do anything for my family. On the day of our Disney adventure, we woke up early, got into the virtual queue for the Star Wars ride (which happened to be the best ride at the park—don’t miss it!), and strode out of our hotel down Disney Way. It was then I began to notice something: we were not alone. We passed group after group in matching outfits. “Ahhhh,” I thought, “this is what people do!”
A shard, sharpener, and sin: Rachel Whisman says, “One of my students probably thought, “Oh, I bet I can sharpen it just a little more. I wonder how small I can get it so I can still use it.” Then, the pencil was lost in the vortex of the sharpener and there were ramifications to that seemingly innocent action.”
When suffering knocks: Paul David Tripp says, “When hardship will come, we don’t know. How we will suffer may vary. But one thing is for sure: suffering will come knocking.”
My heart was still beating fast from the rush of adrenaline from speaking to the crowd of several hundred teens. I stepped off the stage on that hot May night and an older man put his hand on my shoulder. “God has a calling on your life, son. You are going to bring revival to your generation.” I was eighteen years old.
The words churned in my heart and mind for many years. Sometimes they were an encouragement. Sometimes they were a burden. They were always aspirational: how amazing would it be to be part of leading revival?
Isaiah’s prophetic word to Israel contains four Servant Songs. You are probably familiar with the fourth of these, which you may well have read during Holy Week as we considered Christ’s sacrifice for us. As Christians we hold onto the incongruent truths that Christ was exalted and despised. But we sometimes miss the seemingly paradox that the Servant Songs refer to Jesus and us. What is true of Christ is true of us.
Tears frequently flow in my office. Usually the tears don’t come before entering my office, though. I met Diane in the lobby and all it took was a gentle introduction to start the flow of her tears. Her son, about my age, had died from a meth overdose a few weeks ago.
She raised her boys in the church and he had made a confession of faith as a ten-year-old, but was never baptized. He began experimenting with drugs by the time he was in high school. He was arrested not long after graduation and began bouncing in and out of jail. As any ex-convict soon learns, a felony record dramatically shrinks one’s employment opportunities. Diane’s son was no different.
Trauma asks, “Lord, have you forgotten about me?” Darby Strickland shares, “Trauma sufferers tend to ask things like, “How did God let this happen to me?” “Does He hear me?” “See me?” “Or even care about me?” It is important to note that these faith questions are highly personal.”
Let’s stop the kid jokes: Moriah Lovett begins, “Recently, as my husband and I chatted with a newlywed couple, the wife remarked, “We need to hang out with your family soon as a form of birth control for us!” She was referring to our four kids, and despite the discomfort I felt at her words, I laughed. Looking back, I wish I’d said, “I hope hanging out with us would do quite the opposite—kids are such a blessing!” I missed the opportunity.”
Monk or missionary? These are the only options now. Ian Harbor explains how our relationship toward social media boils down to one of these two radical options. He explains, “If you are not in control of your social media, social media will be in control of you. And your life will be worse off for it. Why would you subject yourself to a worse life, poor mental health, weak relationships, and a number of other damaging factors just to watch a few mildly funny videos? Count the cost.”
The hardest part of overcoming addiction: Brad Hambrick’s post is as simple as it is important. So, before you click: what do you think the hardest part is?
Have you ever begun reading a passage in the Bible and started anticipating where it was going, and then it took a left-hand turn? I recently had one of those moments. In Romans 5, Paul takes four turns, each more surprising than the last. At the core of Paul’s argument is a counter-intuitive perspective on hope.
Having just worked through Abraham’s faith, Paul begins, “Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God” (Rom. 5:1-2). I’m tracking with Paul here.
Six categories of the cross: JI Packer begins, “Jesus Christ is, in fact, an expression of the temper of the whole New Testament. For explaining the cross, the New Testament uses many images, many categories, many modes of thought blended together. These various categories and modes of thought serve to enrich our understanding of the cross and its meaning.”
A game of hide-and-seek: how shame keeps us from the Father’s love: Bethany Broderick shares a moment with her daughter, “The angry speech I was ready to give her melts away, and I drop to the ground next to her. I pull her close, and she cries against me. She is broken over her sin, yet she doesn’t know what to do other than try to hide.”
This past week has been one of the hardest in my calling as a pastor. Within 24 hours we had three deaths in our congregation: one by cancer, one took his own life, and the other two by a murder-suicide.
There is no sufficient response to these tragedies on this side of heaven. There are no answers, no sense to be made of such senseless loss. There is only grief and the promise that God is sovereign and he grieves with us.
Every nightmare starts as a dream: Erik Raymond warns us, “No one sets out to bring misery upon themselves. Quite the opposite. They are looking for fulfillment. They want happiness. They are chasing the dream. But remember, every nightmare starts as a dream.”
Pain needs interpreting: Simon Arscott, “My job is to help people interpret their pain. Pain itself – though very unpleasant – doesn’t tell us much. It hurts. It’s uncomfortable. It’s upsetting. We don’t want it. Often, we just want it to go away! But good spiritual care requires interpretation of our pain.”
Sign up to get The Bee Hive delivered to your inbox and receive a free 50 Books That Changed My Life (and Might Change Yours, Too) download!
