It's was all about the fantasy...

I'm currently sitting in my parents living room with my brother and Billy Carroll. All 3 of us have our laptops open, pouring over the latest projections, picks, pans, and injury reports.

It's fantasy football time baby.

Last year I got off to a screaming start, drafted the best receiver in the league and then dropped him 2 days before week on after reading a bogus injury report (Randy Moss' hammy was not, indeed, strained). I still managed to finish second in the league.

This year the tensions are just as high. So many questions? Is Peyton's knee REALLY healed? Will Adrian Peterson hold up to being the Viking's number one running back all season? Should I take a tight end in the 3rd round, or wait until the 5th? These are the really important things that one must consider.

So in 13 minutes, the game is on. Are you ready for some football?

Mom's Favorite

I can't stop laughing. I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it.

And the hits just kept on coming...

Poor Natalie hasn't been out of bed all day. Last night at 1:00 (that A.M. for you morning people like me) she woke up not feeling well at all. She need Pepcid, stat. Like a fireman springing at the rescue bell, I lept to the call of duty.

It was actually less leaping and more dragging. I wish I was better and more supportive at stuff like that, but I was groggy and probably pretty cranky. At the bottom of my heart I was glad for the opportunity to do something for her. I felt for her, but the strange commiseration of walking through a difficult time together can draw forth frustration as well as solidarity. I wanted this whole season to be over, and I certainly didn't want chapter 18 of our recent saga to begin in her at 1:00 in the morning!

Still, this morning she wasn't well. As if being pregnant isn't hard enough (not that I'd understand, of course) she now is pregnant AND sick in her stomach. If I wasn't laughing I'd be crying, and if I wasn't crying I'd be laughing.

It's times like this though that bring a person's world view into crystal clarity. It highlights how quickly I am reduced to doubt. It reveals whether I try to stifle those doubts or search for an answer that is acceptable. It uncovers whether or not I am able to walk the tight-wire of accepting suffering and pain on earth AND the goodness and sovereignty of God. Most of all, maybe it indicates how quickly I am able to get outside of myself, beyond the here and now, and realize that there is a greater cosmic picture than I regularly walk in.

I think about my friends who are, or are becoming, foster parents and how they are going to rescue a child who right now may not have access to medicine, but sadder still doesn't have access to a parent who is able or willing to procure the medicine. The greater cosmic reality is that I'm a pretty lucky guy. It doesn't diminish the stress of the past few weeks. I don't think God works that way. I think my fears and doubts and struggles are real. I just think that when they are viewed and processed well, they have the unique ability to either drive me further into myself and closer to self-destruction, or they can draw me out of myself and open my eyes to both my blessings and the sufferings around me.

I think I'm finally able, for the most part, to be thankful for the amazing run of circumstances in the past few weeks. Not all the situations are fully resolved. I'd still like to sell my van to sock a few extra bucks away for when baby Reagan comes. I'd still like to have my family well. But the greater reality is, again, that God is here. He's working and fixing, and He knows my name well enough to bring me through even this in a way that really brings glory to Him.

That's a great thought.

Bullets & Projectiles

I used to read many more blogs than I do now, and back then, I always loved people who were expert users of the bullet point. It seemed like a style that would work well for me since I'm sort of all over the map in my brain. The problem is that I write A LOT, so 10 page bullet points don't accomplish the same thing. None the less, here's my attempt at the bulletted blog post...

• In reading Natalie's documentation of the past 10 days, I remember being drawn to the thought that God is here with me. When Jack is sick, God is here with us. We're not alone. It's much less scary when you're not alone.


• Friday night will be just me and Jack. No firm details yet, but I feel certain that it will involve beef and fire. Probably Television. And a sippy cup. For Jack.


• We're going to have a baby in 5 weeks. It will want to live with us for approximately 18 years. It will also want to eat food and wear clothes. I will be primarily responsible for providing such accoutrements.


• My ear infection is all better. Antibiotics are good stuff.

Alright. That's all I've got. By way of confession, I'm disappointed with the way my first bullet point blog worked out. Perhaps better luck next time.

Otitis externa...

Or, more commonly, outer ear infection.

See, I have this thing. I think Q-tipping is just about the best thing in the universe. Just after a steaming hot shower, get out and swab the ear canal... glorious.

Turns out that it's bad for you (how could something SO right, turn out to be SO wrong?). All that ear wax serves a purpose... it keeps the water from gathering and infecting. So, two months ago I could feel it coming on for about a week. Each day, quietly, steadily, little by little the hot fire poker of aural death made its way to what must be an extremely important place, to be so sensitive.

Antibiotic drops and a benzocane drop should do the trick.

The problem... I only did the antibiotic for 2 days instead of 5.

Fastforward to last Friday, the familar warm heating pressure shows up. Quietly at first, only letting me know it was around. In response I picked up the neglected antibiotic and started my regimen again. I was too late. This morning it was as if steaming Kamikaze pilots of doom flew one by one into my tender little ear canals and exploded microbombs of ear death in the side of my face.

The doctor was little help. "You have an ear infection. Usually babies get those."

"What are you saying doc? Are you calling me a baby? I'll take you down right here and now if I have to."

But alas, it seems that there's no insta-cure for the ear infection. So what did I learn?

1. That which feels the best is not always the best. The implications and applications are endlessly endless.


2. Medicine knows what it's talking about. When it says 5 days, use it for 5 days.


3. Ear infections suck. That's all I have to say about that.

So I'm going to tough it out and pray that the antibiotics work fast. I'm hoping and praying that I'll handle this with grace and dignity. Most of all, I'm hoping this never happens again.

Dear God...

How are you doing? This has been a pretty tough week. I don't think I've really handled all my stuff very well. I'm sorry about that. You know my freak out tendency is pretty high, and it seems like I've lived there for about a month-and-a-half now.

I keep coming back to the sovereignty thing, and generally it's a help. Too many times I don't get there quick enough, though. Like today when Jack got sick and had to go to the doctor. Eventually I remembered that you love him too, and you're the only one who can really take care of him. Then there's the money piece. All that stuff really had to hit at once? Couldn't it have been spread out a little bit? Or not happened at all? Especially that one. We did everything right, we turned the machine in and still had to pay for it. Isn't that injustice?

But you're God. And right now I need to see you that way. I need to believe that you're bigger than doctors diagnoses or financial projections. You're even bigger than that bottom line on my bank statement. You'e Immanuel, God with us. You're very near, very close, and you care about me. You want me to hear your voice. You want me to know that you're involved. I get locked up in thinking that always means you want me to know exactly what you're doing. Right now I guess you just want me to know you're doing something, and be OK with that.

I need you to promise me that it'll all be alright. That doesn't mean it has to be just like I want it or like I envision it, but I need to know from you that it'll be alright. Whatever that means, it will be alright, won't it?

I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. Help me get here sooner. You're doing a good job. I'm grateful. Forgive me when I'm not. Oh, and can you please open up Jackson's airways? He's such a trooper. Let him know you're with him too.

I love you. I don't do it very well sometimes, but I love you. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for letting me be a spoiled kid sometimes.

For you Jesus,

Amen

It's Up to YOU!

In less than 2 months, we'll have another baby.

That baby will need a name.

Nat & I have come up with a couple of names that we like, and we've decided to give YOU, the voting public, the right to choose. You'll notice the poll to the right. Vote for the name that you like by September 15th and the winning name will stick.

You can be a part of history. Get out and rock the vote. Send everyone you know. Get the word out.

God said to me...

There was a day when I was much more ready, willing, and able to say, "God Spoke." Part of my new found hesitancy comes because I would read in the Bible about people who "spoke" for God when God didn't really speak at all. That's not God's favorite thing in the world.

Not to mention, there have been times when I've really felt like I heard God speak something, only to have it not happen. I hate that because it further reveals that the difference between God and I is really quite large. He graciously comes to be near to us, but on my best day it's an art rather than a science.

I have the opportunity to take a trip to the other side of the world, and I really want to hear God's voice. First, I don't want to miss something outstanding simply because I'm nervous or afraid. On the other hand, I don't want to travel half way around the world and leave a new wife and baby at home simply because I want to travel around the world.

So how do I discern between the voice of the Lord and the sounds of my own inner workings. A wise and trusted friend asked the question, "How has God spoken to you in the past?" That's a wonderful question, which leads into many of the same doubts that I mentioned earlier.

This is where I wish i had done a better job at cultivating the habit of humility. That's what I feel is most needed right now. My gut feels like I'm pressing, striving, borderline freaking out with the need and the desire to come to a decision. Humility says, "God's in control and He'll get me to where I need to go." Un-humility (pride, in biblical parlance) says that I have to figure it out. So here's my game plan.

1. Pray - That means me. I've been praying about it for awhile, but not in the focused way that I need to. It's been a passing thought, rather than a time of sitting and asking the Lord to give me His wisdom.


2. Be prayed for - I've asked a couple of people (and now I ask you) to pray for me. I don't know what they're praying, or how they're praying, but I trust that they love me and they are praying. That is such an encouragement to me, and makes me think that no matter what happens, it's all good.


3. Worship - At some point between now and tomorrow evening when I want to make my final decision, I'm going to take a walk and just enjoy what God has done all around me. I'm going to spend some time confessing the areas where I've turned away from God, and then I'm going to celebrate the grace He's poured out to me. I'm going to listen to some Chris Tomlin & Dave Crowder and enjoy the sounds of souls singing to the heavens.

I'm going ot make a decision, and in faith I'm going to believe that I've made the right one. I believe that God is good, so if I (in faith) make the "wrong" decision, God in His sovereignty will make that known.

So pray for me. Pray that the greatest miracle of all - participation in the leading of God - will happen to me. But whatever happens, as I pray am prayed for and worship... it'll all be good.

Monday God

It's the first Monday of the month, and I sat down this morning and jumped right in.

I did the same thing last month...

and the month before...

and before...

It's not that I don't think about the future, I think about it a lot. I just don't make plans around it. The Future arouses hope and fear alternately, and I will react to it for a day, but I haven't been very disciplined about harnessing the power of hope and dismantling the power of fear as it pertains to the future.

So when I sat down today, I found frustration at the unknown slinking it's way into my brain. How can I plan for tomorrow when I don't know what's coming today? How can I look forward and be prepared? Frustration gives way to discouragement, which gives way to fear, which gives way to hopelessness...

But I'm not a victim!

Then I remembered that I have a foundational belief that God is timeless. It's a tricky theological conundrum that's hard to wrap your brain around, but easy to see the implications.

God knows tomorrow. He's already there.

When I was younger (yesterday) I used to beg Him to tell me the future. "What are my kids going to look like? When will you give me the big check to pay off my student loans?" I was mildly perturbed when He wouldn't answer me. It seemed selfish that He would hog all that wonderful information and not share it with me. I promised not to do anything to change the future and thereby thwart his sovereignty, I just wanted to be able to plan. In my heart of hearts, I assured Him, I was ultimately altruistic and I wouldn't do anything like bet on the world series or pick the long shot at the Kentucky Derby, I just wanted to know what was coming so I could plan for it and not be surprised by the little hiccups along the way. I don't think it's too much to ask.

He didn't tell me who is going to win the Superbowl. Dangit.

As my faith grew up, I realized that there's not much fun in telling the future. As I watch my son grow, I have experienced the great thrill of watching him discover. When Jack sees something new, his eyes pop with wonder and his mouth stretches with glee. It's the greatest thing ever.

I forget that God is Father. He enjoys seeing me discover today. He also enjoys comforting me when I cry, when I scream out at the injustice in the world (mostly as it pertains to me), and when I crumble in a heap on the floor. He's there. He knew I would be there too.

He was there waiting for me the whole time.

So I want to make 1st Monday different. I want to sit quietly enough to acknowledge the fact that God can already see August 31st, and all the days before it. I'm probably still going to ask Him to tell me the future, but I'll be able to smile when He doesn't. I want to hear His ideas about what's coming. He may not tell me specifics, but I think he'll help me find a good path. He'll tell me whether I need to push forward or lay back, whether I need to have the hard conversation or just sit quietly. I think He can help me plan. I think He wants to help me plan. That's how Jesus could say to His disciples, "There's another place we have to go," when He seemed to be cresting the wave of popularity.

So rather than sitting & projecting my hopes onto the uncertain future, I'm going to spend some time this morning listening to what Father thinks is important. Believe it or don't, it takes a lot of faith to believe that God really cares about the nit picky details of my job. With all the stuff going on in the middle east, and the Olympics in China, and the fragile economy, it feels somewhat selfish to think that God would be invested in who I have lunch with this week or whether or not I go visit a small group next week.

But my God is pretty big. He's bigger than I give Him credit for. And I hear that He's very fond of me. ;-)