Revitalize Your Church

I have learned the secret of being content. . . . I can do all this through Christ. (Phil. 4:12-13)  A frazzled mother continually complained about her stress level. "I just need some peace and quiet!" she groaned. So, for Mother's Day, her daughter Jessica went to the florist shop and returned proudly carrying the perfect gift for her mother. The arrangement included a pink bow inscribed, "Rest in Peace."  Leonard Sweet and Frank Viola, in their groundbreaking book Jesus Manifesto, said, "Knowing Christ as your rest' and allowing Him to live His life through you is one of the most freeing things you can know as a Christian" They continue, "Resting in Christ doesn't mean being passive. It means allowing the Lord to do the heaving lifting."  My favorite Bible verse, Philippians 4:13, sums up what Paul called the "secret of being content": "I can do everything through him who gives me strength." The secret to conte...

“You can't raise a child in a vacuum. All that carpet dust will clog up the kid's lungs.” -- Jacob M. Appel, American playwright, Arborophilia (2005) (photo from Flickr Twicepix)

Kids + Parents = Faith Involvement

Last week, my son, Wes turned 16. What a milestone! Another driver will soon be unleashed on northern Wisconsin’s highways. The last time, as we returned from practice driving, Wes said, “Dad, you’re doing much better. You didn’t scream once!” My son’s 16th has put me in the pondering mood. No job in the entire world is more important that the molding of young lives. Years fly swiftly. They are little for such a short while, then they grow up and fly from the nest. I have a special word of encouragement for the younger moms and dads reading this column: please take the time to treasure your children. The following appeared in a church bulletin many years ago. The author is unknown. If I Had My Child to Raise Again If I had my child to raise all over again, I'd finger paint more, And point the finger less. I would do less correcting, And more connecting. I'd take my eye off the watch, And watch with my eyes. I would care to know less and Know to care more. I'd take more hike...

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you hang my first painting on the refrigerator, and I immediately wanted to paint another one. When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you feed a stray cat, and I learned that it was good to be kind to animals. When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make my favorite cake for me, and I learned that the little things can be the special things in life. When you thought I wasn't looking, I heard you say a prayer, and I knew that there is a God I could always talk to, and I learned to trust in Him. When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make a meal and take it to a friend who was sick, and I learned that we all have to help take care of each other. When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you give of your time and money to help people who had nothing, and I learned that those who have something should give to those who don't. When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you take care of our house and everyone ...

A few days ago, while flying home from a speaking engagement, I pulled out a copy of Don't Let Me Go (by David Pierce) and began to read it. It's a true "coming of age" story about a daddy and his 15 year old daughter, who find a special bond through climbing mountains and running marathons together. I laughed so hard, I almost blew Diet Coke out my nose (The middle aged businessman sitting next to me gave a nervous glance sideways. ) Then, fifteen minutes later, I was wiping tears away (and My seat mate was CERTAIN he was next to a total basket case.) Don't Let Me Go is an awesome read for guys like me -- who have teenagers at home. It inspired me to go out and do something crazy with my kids. I don't think I'll be climbing Mt. Ranier or running a Marathon -- but I've come up with my own list of adventures! Thanks to David Pierce for inspiring my heart -- and helping me be more intentional with these last few years I have with my almost-grown child...

I lost a very little word only the other day. It was a very nasty word I really had not meant to say; But then, it was not really lost as from my lips it flew, my child picked it up and now he says it too. (Guy King)

"Mom, remember that beautiful vase that has been passed down through our family from one generation to another?" Larry wondered. "Yes, darling, it's very precious to me." his mother replied, "Why do you ask?" "Because this generation dropped it!" As I observe what's happening across our land, I can't help but conclude that this generation of parents has "dropped the vase." We have dropped the vase of morality: "What feels right" has replaced "What IS right". We have dropped the vase of responsibility: When things go wrong, the first reaction is to hide from and/or blame others. It must be someone else's fault. We have dropped the vase of industry: Today's emphasis on amusements have deprived the rising generation the noble satisfaction of completing a good day of hard work. We have dropped the vase of creativity: Brains shrivel when they're not stretched. Television is the number one mind shr...

I recall several years ago, when we had our quiver full with little ones, I made the following declaration on Mother's Day: "The hardest job in the world is to be the mother of toddlers!" One middle aged mom came up to me after the service and respectfully disagreed. "Being the mother of toddlers is hard," she said, "but it's a walk in the park compared to parenting adult children."

No matter how calmly you try to referee, parenting will eventually produce bizarre behavior, and I'm not talking about the kids. Their behavior is always normal . -- Bill Cosby (Thanks to my friend, Lisa Johnson, for the post at Surviving Motherhood.)

When I was 16, my dad didn't know very much. He was old fashioned and too strict. He always wanted to know where I was going and what I planned to do. Dad simply didn't understand. He made me work when I wanted to be lazy. He forced me to clean up my messes. Sometimes, he would even put me on restriction. "Unfair!" I would protest, but my cries would fall on deaf ears. Since Dad was a preacher I had to go to church every Sunday, even if I stayed up late on Saturday night. Not only did I hear sermons on Sunday morning, I would also hear them throughout the week: "Be kind to people-- especially the grouchy ones. There's a reason they are acting that way." "Work hard son. You'll never get the job done by quitting when you feel like it." "I trust you to do the right thing." "Don't be silly." "Do you love God, son? Do you really love Him with all your heart? That's the only way to live, you know!" I shrugged...