So, what to do when (1) a communicator finds himself with communications that need communicating, and (2) a grammar curmudgeon finds barnacles growing in out-of-the-way places of his brain that used to house perfectly good vocabulary?  Fire up the blog and get to writing.  Join me for ranting, rambling, mining of stimulating quotes, and (I hope) thought-provoking essays.  And, while you're here, let's link arms in this linguistic Thermopylae, where songs are sung in hushed and reverent tones, to fallen heroes with names like Buckley, Safire, and Lehrer.

In the immortal words of Samuel T. Cogley, attorney at law, "... And more than that, gentlemen - in the name of a humanity fading in the shadow of the machine - I demand it. I demand it!"

God is Always Good.

One year ago our daughter was dying. We didn't know it. For weeks she grew more and more lethargic, while other symptoms which we recognize only in hindsight began to present themselves. We took her to the doctor for testing, and he called us a few hours later: her blood sugar was well over 600 (normal is around 100). We needed to get her to the emergency room at Children's Medical in Salt Lake City immediately.

Twenty-four hours later she had been hooked up to IVs, pumped full of medications, and finally she was stabilized and on the road to recovery. And she was a Type I diabetic. Our little 2-year-old would be getting 5-6 injections of insulin, or more, every day for the rest of her life.

And here is where theology kicks in. As I reflect on that time, I recognize that God was not standing by, helplessly wringing His hands as He watched her pancreas shut down. God's Providence was clear through the entire process. God's Providence was clear in the way my wife's heart was unsettled, and perceived danger in ambiguous symptoms. It was clear in the speedy, decisive test results and diagnosis. His watch-care was glorious, dazzling, in the way our daughter's body responded to treatment. His grace has been so clear in watching our 2 (now 3)-year-old enduring the constant needles.

AND . . . this is so very important . . . His Providence, His glorious will, was active and real and decisive when that little malfunction in Alison's body triggered the reaction that put her in the hospital. God gave her a perceptive mother. God gave her a caring, experienced doctor. AND God gave her diabetes (Isaiah 46:9-10, Psalm 33:8-11). That is not an accusation. It is worship.

God is sovereign. Period. Whether Alison's medical condition stems from God's permission or His intervention, this is part of the Potter's grand design for her life and ours. And He is no less loving, no less merciful, and no less good, after the diagnosis than He was before. He is God. He is glorious. And the difficult and distressing times are no less His tools because we finite human beings struggle to understand them.

"But now, O Lord, You are our Father.

We are the clay, and you our Potter;

And all of us are the work of your hand."

Isaiah 64:8

Thank you, Lord, for Alison. And thank you, Lord, for Alison's diabetes.

The Other Side of God

For my daily Bible currently I am reading in Genesis, Psalms, Proverbs, and Matthew. This morning, that produced an interesting effect. In Genesis I read about the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. Then, in Psalms, I read:

5 You have rebuked the nations; you have made the wicked perish;
you have blotted out their name forever and ever.
6 The enemy came to an end in everlasting ruins;
their cities you rooted out;
the very memory of them has perished.
7 But the Lord sits enthroned forever;
he has established his throne for justice,
8 and he judges the world with righteousness;
he judges the peoples with uprightness. (Psalm 9:5-8, ESV)

We must never tell of God's love in isolation from His righteousness. We must never slip into a half-gospel that knows nothing of sin, judgment, and the need for the bowed knee of repentance.

Voices of Praise

This week we kicked off our first Sunday night service at the church (I will pause while indignant fundarnmentalists harumph that we didn't have one, and emergentistas harumph that we do). Our special guests were the Voices of Praise travelling choir from Frontier School of the Bible. The young people ministered in a powerful way, and our church was greatly blessed. As a pastor I am unspeakably thankful for the impact these young people had.

But it wasn't supposed to be that way.

Sunday night services aren't supposed to work. Nobody will show up. And those that do will get burned out fast and start to look at church as a drudgery. At least, that's what we hear. What I found as I began talking to the church about starting a Sunday night service was that the biggest obstacle to having it was the fact that we just knew that it wouldn't work.

But it did. People actually showed up. And they were edified. And God was magnified.

So, when did the Lord's Day become the Lord's hour-and-a-half? "I'm sorry, Lord. But the NFL has bought out your franchise. You can have Sunday morning, but be sure you have everything over and cleaned up by noon or we'll have to raise your rent."

Feeling the Zap

Fellow Pastors: Buy this book!

"What I feel at any given time is not the measure either of the truth itself, nor of its work. A good chef can prepare succulent dishes even when his own nose may be stuffed up and he has no ability to smell the savory odors nor taste the dishes himself. Beethoven still composed and arranged brilliantly after losing his hearing. David was instructed not to number the people lest he see them to be few in number compared to his enemies, and hesitate to wage war as God might require. So it is with us. If we measure our preaching's fire power on the numbering and qualifying of our own chills, goose bumps, glory buzzes -- or whatever else it is we think signals to us that God is at work -- we will be timid, ill-prepared and faithless when such feelings are nowhere to be found."

- Reid Ferguson, The Little Book Of ... Things You Should Know About Ministry, p. 43

The Hope of Helpful Resources

This Sunday I'm starting a new Sunday school series, teaching verse-by-verse through the Thessalonian epistles. I'm always on the prowl for new resources to strengthen my understanding (and, thus, exposition) of the Scriptures, so I try to purchase one or two commentaries by authors with whom I am unfamiliar whenever I start a series like this, to see what I'm missing. I had heard of Dr. Mal Couch of Tydale Theological Seminary before, and have his book on dispensational hermeneutics; but The Hope of Christ's Return is the first of his commentaries that I have tried.

The introductory material alone is worth the price of the commentary. Dr. Couch balances in-depth background information with highlights of the doctrinal issues (particularly dispensationalism and eschatology) and why they are important. All of this is done in a clear, straightforward, didactic writing style. I am looking forward to using this commentary in my studies, and will definitely be including Dr. Couch on my list of must-haves for future series. If you haven't already, I heartily recommend that you give his stuff a try.

Charlotte Bronte on The Call

I came across a beautiful description of the call to the ministry, in a most unexpected place. In Charlotte Bronte's classic Jane Eyre there is a moment when a parish priest, St. John Rivers, is expressing his passion for missionary work to Jane:

"A year ago, I was myself intensely miserable, because I thought I had made a mistake in entering the ministry: its uniform duties wearied me to death. I burnt for the more active life of the world-for the more exciting toils of a literary career-for the destiny of an artist, author, orator; anything rather than that or a priest: yes, the heart of a politician, of a soldier, of a votary of glory, a lover of renown, a luster after power, beat under my curate’s surplice. I considered: my life was so wretched, it must be changed, or I must die. After a season of darkness and struggling, light broke and relief fell: my cramped existence all at once spread out to a plain without bounds-my powers heard a call from heaven to rise, gather their full strength, spread their wings, and mount beyond ken. God had an errand for me; to bear which afar, to deliver it well, skill and strength, courage and eloquence, the best qualifications of soldier, statesman, and orator, were all needed: for these all centre in the good missionary.
A missionary I resolved to be. From that moment my state of mind changed; the fetters dissolved and dropped from every faculty, leaving nothing of bondage but its galling soreness-which time only can heal."

Been there.

Welcome to the Deep End

On Sunday Grace Bible Church voted to call me as their pastor. On Tuesday morning I was in the hospital, comforting a woman as she watched the doctors remove the respirator from her husband of 53 years, who was lying in a coma. My first sermon as pastor will be a funeral service. Welcome to the deep end.

But it's only in the deep end that you get to see Romans 8:28 really work. Only our great God could turn a day like that into a good thing. But He does. All the time. It was an opportunity to really minister to the flock He has placed in my charge. It was an opportunity to offer whatever comfort can be had in a time like that. It was an opportunity to show and tell the love of Christ. It was an opportunity to see God's peace surpass all human understanding yet again. And it was an opportunity to have the honor to see a hero -- a hero of our country and a hero of our faith -- enter his reward.

Praise the Lord for the wonderful, mysterious ways in which He works His will. Keep your forty-billion-served, numbers-centered, activity-focused, Bible-Belt McChristianity. This is ministry.