First book I ever read by myself:

Green Eggs and Ham

Lately I have been reading this book to my kids and they love it. It still makes me think about breakfast. It is funny how a book can illicit such fond memories. I used to read that book over and over way back in elementary school.

The same thing happens with some songs and movies. I will put something like The Little Mermaid in for my girls, and remember back to when my sister would take over the television for days just to watch The Little Mermaid or Beauty and the Beast. I still love Princess Bride. ha ha.

One could easily apply this to Biblical principles, verses, and the sort. I remember living out in the woods with my parents. I would put on my walk-man and dance and sing to Amy Grant worship music. When I think back to that time of simple worship where I didn't care if people were looking, I can sense the Holy Spirit's prescience.

Sometimes when I am with my children, I can sense the Lord's prescience. I wish I was more aware of this prescience during my times of anger and aggression. Though those times are few and far between, it would still would be nice to recognize the Lord's prescience.

Why do we complicate things with self interest, greed, anxiety, and the want for things? Sometimes the simple Green Eggs and Ham is all you need.

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The Approach

The attitude that we possess when we are entering a new situation has a great deal to offer towards the outcome being strongly positive or considerably miserable. Facing storms in our days takes a great deal of preparation and courage: not one person truly likes unrequested emergencies, challenging circumstances and heartbreaks. Being prepared for some of them lessens the pain and amount of tears shed. But they happen and sometimes they seem to pop up like pimples on a smooth face. 

Our position in the family as father has a direct impact on decisions made and the depth of the family’s self-esteem.

The skill set of a Sailboat Captain is remarkable and deep:

• He must know every inch of his vessel

• He must understand the power of the motors 

• He must know the size and stresses of each sail and the masts they ride upon

• He must have a good relationship with his crew

• He must realize, HE CANNOT DO IT ALL 

The role of the father in the house must be open and have a base Kenostic catalyst in order for future and continued successes. The father’s role in the house must imitate the way Christ Jesus moves in his life – open and accepting. Kenosis defined in the father/dad – his heart and mind must be open to receive criticism, heartache, frustration and moments of solitude while in a crowd of people or engaged in conversation with the members of his family.  A father must empty out of himself so his family can grow and feed into each other’s days.

KEY FOR SUCCESS

Dad, you are not the only smart person in the house!!

The new or rediscovered father must do the following to have peace and success in his house:

• He must look ahead with bright & positive attitude

• He must trust and believe in all the members of his house

• He must understand that the burden of the family is not a one person adventure

• He must be willing to COMMUNICATE WITH HIS WIFE

• He must be willing to talk and listen to his family’s needs and see their inherited abilities

• He must know the character / personality of his soul mate and TRUST HER to take the wheel from time to time

• He must realize, He Cannot Do It All On His Own

All of the above and more can lead to a great many successful voyages.

Family life should be likened to the life of the crew of a sailboat. They are varied in size, capabilities and can handle certain situations and storms with / without a full complement (crew). Certain situations can be so overwhelming that it may take the entire family’s prayers, discussions and tears to reach a final and good decision to keep the boat afloat. That is, if the crew has been given all of the information about the storm facing the family.

LEARNING CURVE

Growing up, there was a simple rule for the children of the house concerning adult conversation, “kids are to stay out of adult conversation.” Well, after commenting in three different conversations, I removed myself from the room as soon as Mother’s friends would show up with that, I Need Help Look. Their business to me was their business.

Now that I have a family of my own, I keep to the same rule, but have found myself leaving the room when my wife’s friends come to the house.  Their business is their business. Well, that is if she wants me to be in the conversation and my wisdom is of value and warranted. This took time to learn and receive on both parts. Questions would arise to the nature of me leaving the room and how far I trust my wife. My answer is always the same; they are my wife’s friends and their conversation should not involve me unless my wife is in the room. 

Trust and Respect follows great and open communication. Texting me while we are in the same house, shows glimpses of a limited and dying relationship. If we are unable to open our mouths and speak to all members of our family about any approaching storm, the family’s sailboat will begin to take on water and ultimately sink.

SURE FOOTING

Though the deck of any ocean-going vessel is slippery, the short, shoulder wide steps allow each member of the crew to get around the boat safely and complete needed tasks to keep the voyage enjoyable.

–said like a DAD in development

When each person moves in the house with pride and care, each is careful not to create confusion or step on any toes in order to keep the peace and the family focused on making it through the storm with an ability to completely enjoy those days of sunshine and smooth waters.

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WARNING: This could be gross.

As a parent of a one year old, I have come across a rather weird situation. There are often times when I’m alone with my son at home (no big deal), and I got to pee. No matter how well I try to time the day, the need always seems to happen when he’s awake. So I’m stuck with three options: 1) hold it (ya right), 2) lock him out of the bathroom and listen to him scream, or 3) let him into the bathroom with me.

I opt for number 3. I’m not sure what psychological damage I’m doing to my son, but maybe the example will help him potty train. It has to be better than letting my son think his daddy’s locked himself away, right?

Here’s where the gross part comes up. Advert your eyes if you feel it necessary.

My son has that inquisitive nature. You know, the one that means he has to touch everything so he can figure out what it is. Right now, he’s fascinated with the toilet. This has naturally led to a rather awkward balance of one hand taking care of business and the other holding my son away from the toilet.

I was reflecting on this the other day (partly because I’m sure it’s left me with some psychological damage), and it occurred to me that this is often how God ends up treating me. See, my curiosity often gets the better of me, and I go wondering into something I shouldn’t be. God, who is ever so gracious, doesn’t just lock me out. Sadly, I don’t always have the impulse control to keep out of things I shouldn’t be in. I end up forcing God to do a balance of letting me in and holding me back.

It’s amazing how often I look at my son and think to myself that he’s years away from being mature enough to know what isn’t good for him. This begs me to look at my own life and question whether or not I am mature enough. I find more often than not I simply failed to keep myself on the right path and out of trouble.

Yet the amazing thing is this: I, like my son with me, never lose God’s love. No matter what I get myself into, God is always there to guide me out.

So when I’m taking care of business, I reflect on what I’ve gotten myself into that day. When I need help out, I look for the hand of God to hold me back.

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This is not a condemnation of tattoos (I will probably, maybe get one someday) or of my son.

My son came home with a new Las Vegas tattoo on his inner left forearm Sunday evening. I laughed and wanted to cry. I think about tattoos as identity. After all, they become a part of you for life. I find my identity in Jesus and cannot imagine permanently etching anything into my body that does not convey that reality.

Eli also has a D III tattoo. It denotes family. It draws a line of connection between his grandfather, Orville Douglas; his father, Daniel Douglas; and himself, Elijah Douglas. I get that. I am drawn to get a tattoo that supports my son’s and mirrors his commitment to legacy. However, I have not because even that falls short of my standard for identity. But wait, there is more.

I am called to speak out against consumerism. Our materialistic society encourages us to work hard so that we can purchase our identity on the free market. The brands we own, the experiences we buy, and the individual productivity they represent define who we are. Work hard, play hard, live well! Anything else is a sin. The Holy City of consumerism is, of course, Las Vegas (Macau learned it all from us.  Sorry New York and Los Angeles. Try harder). I freaked—quietly, on the inside. I thought, “Is this all my fault?”

I encourage Eli to question my life style and challenge God. “Do not repeat my mistakes. Be better than me as I hope to be better than my father. Tell God you don’t believe and walk away. If God is real like I believe, you’ll find out. Just, please o' please o', avoid sitting safely in the middle. Do not be one of millions of Americans who say they believe in Jesus, plan on going to heaven, and avoid the inconvenience of living a Christian life.” I am confident he will grow into maturity with full possession of his own identity and his own faith. I’m not raising a mini-me. I am, or at least I was, excited to see how Eli’s identify will form . . . A Las Vegas brand for life . . . Oh no!

After I finished flailing about internally and lamenting silently, I asked Eli why he choose to mark himself with a symbol representing a place much of the world refers to as Sin City. It turns out that he thinks of tattoos as narrative. Having spent the majority of his life here, Eli wanted a sign to help him tell that story. Stories and symbols I understand. My aesthetics may not match Eli’s, but I am not in an all-out panic yet.

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I have had self-image issues my whole life, some of them physical and some of them mental. This week I will address the physical side, and the next time I post it will be on the mental side.

I was the kid whose parents didn’t really monitor what I watched on television; therefore, I also became one of those kids who loves action movies. In all action movies the hero is physically fit and almost always has some well-defined muscle group (like abs, biceps, or chest). I was also was that kid who wanted to learn Karate (I figured it was a stepping stone to greatness). 

The problem was that I liked to sit on my butt and watch these movies on an above regular basis, which lead me to some seriously bad eating habits. I would end up spending most of my youth sitting in front of the television at my grandparents. This worked for them because that meant I was a good, quiet, calm kid.

In being a “good” kid my grandparents would let me eat whatever I wanted. Plus they were very tired and sick most of the time, so they would simply let me choose the fast food restaurant I wanted for dinner. Most of the time it was either McDonalds or Burger King that we would eat from. Also, they kept the fridge fully stocked with Pepsi, orange juice, and water (and frozen hot pockets). Guess which one I went for most of the time.

I don’t blame my grandparents or my parents for my bad habits or my weight. I love them deeply, but how do I love myself when I have taken on the image of the villain in those action movies? How do I accept myself when I have incorporated laziness into my core life function? How do I continue on when I look in the mirror and see exactly what I have done to myself?

How frustrating it is when I develop sores just from my skin rubbing against itself. How frustrating it is when my back aches just from sitting. How frustrating it is when I have to continue to purchase pants that are always going up in size and, are always breaking at the seams just from simple activities.

Jesus said that I need to love God with everything, and that I need to love my neighbor as myself. This to me is a very important concept that we all need to pay attention to. I believe the Lord is in some ways saying that we need to love ourselves in a good and upright manner. I say this because I don’t think I should love others the way I have loved myself in the past. I have indeed loved myself selfishly, lazily, and wickedly. I am pretty sure that isn’t love.

So I am still overweight and still have these bad tendencies to seek out ice-cream, pizza, beer, and the sort (just so I can have them). Yet, today I seek to devote my life, my body, my mind, my soul, my actions, my family, my friends, and those I meet to the Lord who washes us clean from sin. I choose to devote myself to the God of new beginnings, the God of redemption, and repentance. Jesus loves me, and died to save me, and defeated death so that I too may live in his image. Because He Loves me.

Last year at this time I could not run a mile, but today I can run over five. Last year I didn’t see much hope in the mirror, but today I can see transformation. I still go to the gym or run down the street feeling vulnerable and naked but I know the Lord is with me and wants me to not only succeed, but he wants me to live this life to the fullest. He doesn’t want me wasting it away in a slow death like fashion.

He wants me to experience his creation and recognize Him in his work. His creation being everything. The thing is, that our bodies are a part of that creation and he wants us to recognize and experience him through ourselves as well. Indeed we must love him with everything and love our neighbors as ourselves.

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A call comes in from the school. She introduces herself as a school official; the teacher of my daughter who is in the 2nd grade.  The caller seems to be nice. The then asks to speak to one of my daughter’s parents. My answer, “I am her dad, can I help you?”

Her next question not only made my skin crawl and quickly heated my last seated nerve (made my a - -  hot if you have ever gotten that mad before). The angering aspect of this call is that I have met this woman the year earlier, when she was the teacher of one of my elder children. And then she keeps speaking into my fire.

“Sir, do you live with them?”

At this point I can say nothing that would be considered as being honorable, professional or nearing a sweet response. I take a deep breath and put the phone on the arm of the sofa. Looking at my wife while the steam flowed from the top of my head, I motioned for her to pick up the telephone.

Has our communities de-evolved so much that they align to the scripted “absent father” as seen in Toy Story?

My personal story with my children has been to make myself constantly visible with school administrators, while they move to link every man in to the box of being absentee or inactive in the lives of their children.  Past conversations with teachers during Parent/Teacher Conferences have been filled with a great deal of tension and uninspired gazes. Some have had the opening question, “is your wife ill, than why you are here?”  A smile and an answer to quickly move into the reasons of the yearly meeting becomes the catalyst for keeping my cool. I know my daughters and feed into them so they can be prepared for life. Why is it the school district and the powers-that-be in television, think it okay to try and limit the role of the dad?

The idea that “Father Knows Best” has been erased and replaced with visions of an absent-minded, bubble-headed fool (who by the way was just lucky enough to marry one of the smartest and most aggressively beautiful woman on the planet) trying to handle a task given to him by the woman who rules and runs all facets of rearing the kids to become great and prosperous adults.

This cannot be the norm.

In recent articles, studies have garnered the grace administered when both parents are deeply involved in the rearing of their children (Two Parents Can Create Intelligent Children) and show the benefits are apparent when these children reach their tween and teenage years. This falls in lines with the dreams that grow during the varying trimesters of pregnancy and the visions of what we want in our children and then flashbacks that we think were failures during our own tutelage from our parent(s).

In the 22nd chapter of the book of Proverbs, we are instructed to feed into our children so they can make the best decisions during their later years. But then we run into school districts that try and tell us that it should be the mother involved in the rearing of our young girls and boys.  It takes BOTH parents to construct a good child and great adults.

A mother can:

• teach her daughter how to become a respectful and strong woman
• teach her daughter how to be a good support system for the man who will love her
• teach her son to be confident when silly girls will dump him for not looking like other boys
• teach her son how to return love to a woman who loves him
• teach her son how to aid his family in trusting one another

A father can:

• teach his daughter what not to accept and what standards she should set for those who will replace him for her years of life without him
• teach his daughter to believe in herself no matter what stupid boys will say about her
• teach his son to treat the women in his life as a gift 
• teach his son to be prepare for the storms that will come upon his family

My frustration comes when visits to doctor and dentist offices are filled with the similar questions asking if the father has permission to sign medical releases and be in the room with his child. Legal issues or just unwarranted summations and questions offered by professionals who are so stuck in their jobs they want to see how limited the father is in their roles of rearing their children?  I can be a little over the top, but enough is truly enough.

It is considerably possible for the father to make some mistakes in the raising of their children. But out of mistakes, both the child and the father can learn from the active portions of their relationship. They learn what fellowship truly is. It is the active movement in growing into one another through trust and love. Yeah, some dads can become overbearing in the relationship with their sons and daughters and seem to be like “Paul Bunyan” in their attempts to teach their children to knock down the giants of life earlier and a little more often, or like “Heathcliff Huxtable” and have all the answers and deliver them with laughter and unscripted humility and love.  But in both areas, these types of fathers make the journey into adulthood stronger in each step their children are taking.

Recently, I met a good friend for breakfast and he rehearsed his frustrations about a visit to school (not in the same school district as my child) to pick up his sick son’s homework.  In his retelling the story, tears of anger fell from his eyes as his anger was being kindled by the memory of being disrespected for being a caring parent. This opened up the realization of the question which was given me in the telephone call I received from my child’s teacher. If am called on my home phone, which has my name listed on it, asking questions about the child that is carrying my last name and after I have identified myself with the name that corresponds on all the records available, why the debasing questions?

My answer to my friend was to have a discussion with faculty about their approach toward young fathers and make request of the school district to rephrase their stance against active dads. But discussion with one school district may not be enough. It will take the movement of a great deal of parents, who want the best for their children; in and out of the home.  Frustrated parents tend not to support the schools that continually aggravate them.

The man answering my phone……

…… is the active father of seven daughters and one son who he intends on creating so many active paths for their success in later life, they will not think of not following in his footsteps of being an active parent.

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Today, I have the honor of writing the first post of the new year. We all know that the first of January is the signal that we need to take a new look at our resolution list. If you're anything like me, you quit last year's list earlier than you meant to do. You know—like January 2nd.

See, it seems like we always make resolutions that we can't actually keep, things like losing weight, or fixing the gutters, or doing better on our marriage. While those are all great, they seem to get lost… in other things.

Well let me start of the next year talking about one of my favorite people from history. Most of us know the Christmas story and the basic characters. There's Jesus (of course), Mary, Herod, an angel or two, some wise men, and some sheep. Oh, I left out a guy: Joseph. You know, it's amazing how often this father is forgotten.

In his post last week, Dan contemplated what it was like for Jesus to have "emptied himself." What do you think that was like? If he was truly human, he probably screamed when hungry, didn't sleep well at night, demanded from his parents, and probably raised a little hell just to prove his independence. Well, that's what my one year old is doing now. I'm going to be honest, it's not an easy ride. Then again, I wouldn't change it for the world.

See, Joseph gave up everything for his son. In order to protect his new wife and unborn child, he sent his wife to go visit her cousin. I realize customs were different back then, but I couldn't imagine spending the first few month of marriage without my wife. Still, that is a sacrifice Joseph was willing to make. Weeks before the baby was born, Joseph took his family to his ancestral hometown. One the baby was born, they were forced to flee for their lives.

I wonder at times if I am the kind of father that would pack up everything for my son. It's easy to say that I'd be willing to sacrifice for him, but it's a lot harder to actually do it. My son didn't sleep through the night until he was ten months old. That was definitely a rough time. Now he's a year old, walking, and pretty much rearranging our house (with everything somehow ending up on the floor).

This year, as I write my new year's resolutions, I'm not as concerned with getting everything right. If I take Joseph's example as my guide, I realize that at the top of my list is this first resolution:

1) Love my son as Joseph loved his.

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Merry Christmas! I invite you to reflect with me on two of my favorite Christmas verses.

Therefore he had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect, so that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of the people. Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested.” (Hebrew 2:17–18)

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” (Hebrews 4:15–16)

Suffering comes to everyone in a unique way. How much we suffer and are tested depends on the contrast between what we are accustomed to and what we are experiencing.

Take a moment and try to grasp what “normal” is like for Jesus. Consider the scale of creation and recall that all things came into being through him. Spend some time. Soak it in. It’s Christmas after all, what’s your hurry?

Now consider that Jesus Christ emptied himself of all of that (his divinity). How else could he truly suffer, be sincerely tempted, experience dependence on the Spirit, and learn through obedience the joy of faith transformed into reality? “…like his brothers and sisters in every respect… tested as we are.” He bled, got sick, felt powerful anger, horrible want, crushing disappointment, and profound sadness. “Born in a manger” does not even begin to capture what Jesus went through.

Christmas leads inevitably to Easter and the astounding gift of salvation. However, we do not need to wait to open the gift of God’s radical humility. Today, wrapped in the pain of human existence and failure, we can boldly approach the throne expecting only inexhaustible grace from a God who shares our suffering, understands our weakness, and cries our tears. Merry Christmas! read more

I am going to be honest here with you. Being a Dad is the most difficult thing I have ever done, but being a Dad with solid Christian values has reshaped the way I see the world. I look at my daughters as princesses and my sons as princes. I have entirely different expectations for my children’s future than that of those who do not believe in the Lord.

I fully intend to raise my children up fully immersed in the name of Jesus Christ. That not only means raising them up to be good people. It means to raise them up to be followers of Jesus. I don’t want my kids to be cast to the waves of this world. I want them to cling to the rock that is Jesus Christ. I want them to know that Jesus is the reason why they exist and continue to draw breath.

It is my hope that they will indeed cling to Jesus especially in those hard times and times of temptation. For my sons, it is my hope that they would cling to the image of Jesus and not the images this world has to offer. For my daughters, it is also my hope that they wouldn’t cling to the images of this world. I hope that my sons wouldn’t seek out images of women that don’t represent reality; same goes for my daughters. I don’t want my sons to seek in order to lust, and I don’t want my daughters to seek in order to emulate.

I want my sons to work and to watch for Jesus. I want my daughters to seek Jesus. It is my goal to raise my children to love but to also be wise in Jesus, not in this world. Don’t get me wrong I love this world, but I love Jesus much, much more. We need to stop with the porn, irresponsibility, ignorance, selfishness, wickedness, divorce, drunkenness, and gluttony. Like I said, I am going to be honest: we need more of Jesus. So that’s my plan to raise my children to be more like Jesus.

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Friendship has been defined as a relationship which consists of mutual respect and admiration bound up in trust.

Finding this in this society could be just as easy as walking out in your yard and digging up a 5 carat diamond.

Some of our days seem like the best companion we could ever meet is loneliness.

And then there are those days that that one person says the right thing and empowers you to keep on pushing through the storm.

It takes time to learn how to deal with people and their little quirks. So we tend to seek solitude and lean inward in all group discussions and house parties; we become accustomed to being alone in a crowd of people. They seem strange because we see them as too adventurous and joyful. They are similar to those shrubs and little trees which pop up in the corners of backyards and are trimmed out of existence. They offer change which was not desired nor requested.

Friendship has to be the association of people who care for one another so deeply that they are not afraid to speak the truth to you and the mere thought of betraying them hurts you so much you refuse to cross that line.

I can tell you that for the longest time in my life, I was hugged up with distrust for those who were not like me. If they did not come from the same area or had not experienced similar failures in life; I did not want a thing to do with them. But there comes a time in all our days that we have to accept the calling of maturation and wisdom. My choice came three years ago. I am all the better for it.

Not to drudge up a story requiring three violins softly playing in the background, I don’t feel like the odd man out any longer when I am being engaged in this group of men. Trust for a man is a hard thing to develop. It becomes difficult when it has to be sustained at a high level.

Friendship has been defined as a fellowship of associates willing to give their last to keep the other alive and well.

Maintaining a strong level of trust requires each party willing to take on all criticism and then change after being hurt. This is called growing up. This is called becoming an adult.

As a boy, we are taught to become “Kings of the Hill” and then later in life, we want to become “Kings of our Castles.” The entire time we alienate those we are supposed to love because we are on a direct mission to conquer those people and things we desire to have as possessions. In the middle of all of this, somehow Christ stuck His Hands in the lives of the four guys you see in this blog and created a fellowship that is still growing and still using the members to teach each other and test the boundaries of love and hate.  Yes, I said love. We have gotten off of the macho horse and seek each other out to make sure each is still holding on and willing to love the people in their homes, not as possessions, but as the gifts God has blessed us with.

This is the catalyst that is cementing our friendships.

I think we are on equal ground.

That is just strange.

Normally when there are a group of friends, one is chosen the leader and the others follow. But in this group we all seek to push one another toward the example of Jesus and then squint to see if those same qualities are being developed in our personal walks.

It is evident that growth has taken place in this group. We bounce our daily decisions off of one another, fully expecting to be slammed if the quest doesn’t make sense or will not be profitable for the family in question.

Friendship has been defined as having unlimited bounds that each party accepts and is willing to move toward to keep the unit strong and viable.

I am no longer alone in a crowd of people.

I am amongst friends.

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Being a Christian is hard. No, I don't mean because we're persecuted. What do Americans know about persecution? Even as Christians we're at the top of the food chain. What I mean is, following our faith is hard.

See, even Christians still struggle to figure out their lives. Whenever you hear someone says, "God just won't answer me," they really do feel like God has abandoned them. Whenever you hear a person saying, "I don't know what I'm supposed to do with my life," they really mean they aren't sure where the best fit in.

I'm one of those people.

I was catching up with a professor from undergrad a couple weeks back, asking questions about getting some more schooling. The questions I was asking were attempting to figure out if that's what I should be doing with my life, and what the next step would be from there. It's funny when I talk to people about that. Generally, people give me that blank stare which means, "How should I know what you should do with your life? I don't even know what I'm doing with mine!"

This professor friend of mine surprised me. He said to me, "I believe that God gives some people specific tasks, and they should be following them. For others, He points them to the Torah and says to follow it."

This was one of the more profound things I've ever heard.

It turns out, I'm not one of those people who God gave a specific task. I'm not Steve Jobs, out to change the computing world. I'm not Barak Obama, leading the most powerful and influential country in the world. I have not been given a task as profound and deep as that.

At first, I was depressed. Why wouldn't God choose me to do something great? It's amazing that our first reactions always seem to be the negative ones, huh? As I pondered what my professor friend said, I realized how freeing it was. To people like Jobs and Obama, specifics tasks are given and greatness tends to follow, but they walk a very fine line. For them, doing right means leading God's children to a better future; screwing up, well, we all know what history does to people like Hitler.

For the rest of us, our only "task," then, is to follow the Torah. What we do with the rest of our lives, well, is up to us. Essentially, I weigh my hopes and dreams agains the skills that I have, and pick a path that will best suit my joys and help the most people. It seems scary because I still don't quite know what that path will be. Yet, it's freeing because I now know that whatever mistakes I make will not affect the Kingdom too badly; God hadn't placed that burden on me.

Sometimes, Being a Christian is hard. It means following God wherever He decides to take you.

Other times, being a Christian isn't so bad. I get to find the best way of expressing who I am in the Kingdom. That's not so hard. In fact, all I have to do is, well, be me.

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When I was growing up in Moscow, Idaho in the early seventies I wanted to play Little League baseball. So, my dad took me to the hardware store and let me pick out a bat from their small circular display. I choose a huge, blue, wooden beauty of a bat. It was way too big for me. I could barely lift it let alone swing it effectively. I have no idea why my normally wonderful and responsible father let me pick that one.

We played in our blue jeans and t-shirts.

I don’t remember a single thing my coach ever said to me.

I never got a hit.

But, I played baseball, and it was incredibly important to me.

This was back when I believed in God the first time. I had learned again and again that if I prayed and believed hard enough God would give me what I asked for. “You can ask for anything in my name, and I will do it, so that the Son can bring glory to the Father. Yes, ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it!” (John 14:13, 14). Challenge accepted!

I prayed hard for us to beat the best team in our Little League, the widely hated Yankees. I prayed powerfully like only a foolish little kid who believes in a very literal translation of the bible can pray. I prayed and believed and prayed and told my friends that we we’re going to beat the Yankees.

…

After I recovered my faith a couple of months later, I prayed for something much simpler. I prayed that God would help me catch bugs and put them in the tent I had erected in our big front yard. I prayed and believed. Hard. Again, this was very important to me. Although, I must admit there was a bit of an edge to my faith, kind of a one eye slightly open, heart not wanting to get hurt again, believing but maybe not really able to believe all the way anymore kind of edge.

I didn’t catch any bugs, at least not any decent bugs. I was crushed.

I did what any rational person would do. I walked away and pouted…for about thirty years.

God let me pout. God let me do a lot of really ridiculous things, but eventually one of us decided I’d had enough. I started learning about praying and trusting all over again, but I never forgot about baseball and bugs.

I spent four years begging God to let me go to seminary (or God spent that time convincing me I could.). Two years later, after I had prayed, believed, and trusted my family, finances, and fitness to God I had ballooned up to 290 pounds (see “Should I be Mad at God for Letting Me Get Fat?). It was baseball and bugs all over again.

Me and God, we had it out, several times. I cussed, yelled, doubted, threatened, and pouted, the whole nine yards. God just chuckled patiently and invited me to a deeper faith that involved my active participation in his providence and my sanctification. Despite the fact that I had absolutely no time available after addressing family, full-time work, ministry, and full-time grad school I had to menu plan, shop, cook, and work out.

So, I choose a goal (this was about four months ago). I wanted to be able to jump up and casually run over to wherever I wanted to go. No big deal. I don’t need to look like Vin Diesel or play running back for the Ducks. I just want to be able to hustle. I want free and easy mobility.

Now that God and I are working together, things are going pretty well. I’ve dropped a ton of weight. But, you know what? My goal has been ripped away from me. My right knee is killing me. It used to come and go, but now it just hurts all the time. I can still walk, ride my bike, work out, and do all the things I need to do to get in shape. But, I can’t run or jump. Getting up is a chore. It takes time and it hurts.

What is going on with our wacky, all powerful, purely loving God? First, I thought it was pick a goal, pray, trust, and get blessed…Nope! Then I thought it was pick a goal, pray, trust, work with God, and get blessed…Yes, I’m far thinner, and that is wonderful, but no. Moving hurts and I’m less able to hustle then I was at 290.

So…finally…here is my point. Gratitude is hard. It requires flexibility.

This is not one of those weepy blog posts about how wonderful God and Christianity are if you’ll just “let go and let God.” It’s a heads up. Following Christ isn’t easy. Prayer and trust are not sufficient. You need to get in the game, and when you do you may not get to pick your own goals. You have to work consistently and despite pain to choose gratitude over bitterness.

Consider praying for awareness of the blessings God has already given you. Embrace the mercy we all float in rather than demanding justice. Accept God’s invitation to develop an understanding of faith as belief in the unseen, as hope and love without proof, and find astounding peace and joy exactly where you are right now. read more

Today, we are proud to bring you a joint venture: Odd Man Out. We are currently working towards our Masters of Divinity at George Fox Evangelical Seminary. Out of the midst of our lives from around the country, God has brought us all together in one place to strengthen, support, and guide each other through and in a passionate relationship with Christ.

We launched this blog to bring some of that support directly to you. We believe some of the greatest ways to find passion and support is hearing the stories and insights gathered from others. The four of us come from different walks of life and different places in the country; not two of us live in the same state! Yet we have managed to take us from one level in our spiritual journeys to an even greater and deeper level. Our hope is that through our blog, we will help guide you.

Let us be honest with you a moment: none of our insights come from powerful intellectual moments; instead, they are a result of something we experienced in our lives that caused us to stumble. Through propping each other up, we have managed to take those trips, stumbles, and even falls, turning them into something which strengthens our relationships with our families, each other, and—most especially—the God we love and cherish. Likely, our stories and blurbs will be something similar to what you've experienced, or perhaps are experiencing already. Our hope is that you may genuinely take away from our lives a small nugget which guides you towards the piece of mind for which you are looking.

May God bless you, guide you, and keep you safe.

Dan, Kevin, Mat, and Matt read more