Grateful

Kicking off the season vs. App. State with Walker & Tanner

I'm so grateful.  I'm so grateful we got to experience this ride.  I mean it.  I guess I'm sad today.  I certainly am, but I'm mostly grateful.  I don't feel a lot of pain and heartache, because I don't think this was a one-off.  You never know, though.  There are no guarantees we'll ever make it back, but it didn't feel like our only shot.  It felt like the beginning.  And we'll likely play those guys in 11 months back in the same building with the SEC on the line.

I'm grateful to be a Dawg.  I mean this sincerely.  I'm biased, but, man, we've got a great fan base.  And, this is just the honest truth, we appreciated this year more than most.  I'm not sure FSU fans in the '90s, USC fans in the early 2000's or Bama Fans in the 2010's really appreciate the winning.  But we're just grateful.  What a ride and what a run.  There are a lot of teams - a lot - who have no idea what a run like this feels like. The run was immensely fun, and it gave me was a lifetime of memories. 

With Morgan at Notre Dame

This season gave me an excuse to take a trip to Chicago with my 13 year old.  We saw the city, I got to hear one of my heroes preach (Bill Hybels) and we beat Notre Dame, kick-starting a season for the ages.

All of us in Jacksonville!

We took the whole family to Jacksonville for us to all see us (finally) beat Florida.  We played on the beach and ate seafood in late October. 

With Brooks watching Nick and Sony's last game in Sanford Stadium

We traveled all across the Southeast.  I took each of my four sons to at least one road game.  We had long drives in the car together, meals by ourselves and new adventures as father and son.  We hugged after Touchdowns and Interceptions.  They dressed up as their favorite players and ate cotton candy. 

Tanner and I took the only long drive home from the Plains, knowing we'd get our shot at redemption against someone in Atlanta.  We did, against those same guys.

With Walk-man at Tech

After Thanksgiving, it was magical enough.  11-1 and we beat most of our rivals...badly.  We had eaten a lot of good food and shared a lot of good laughs.  It was just beginning.

Me & my friend, Chase, at the SEC Championship Game in his hat that has never lost to Auburn

We vanquished our only loss of the season and earned a trip to the playoff.  12-1 and SEC champs.  I had been to every game but Tennessee.  Would there be one or two more? 

My boys at Christmas with their Clemson cousins, Parker & Mason

Christmas at my parent's house was like never before.  My brother's family is all Clemson Tigers.  We were both in the playoffs.  Would we meet in the natty?  There was a lot of ribbing and trash talking. But we were all happy to be along for the ride. 

Emily & I with our good friends, Jana & Buck, after the Rose Bowl

L.A.  Tinsel Town.  Hollywood.  Beverly Hills.  Venice Beach.  Malibu.  Santa Monica.  And a little Vegas.  Emily and I did it all.  It was the first time she and I had been away together for that long in a decade.  We'll never forget it.  When Sony scored we hugged and yelled and cried.  I'm certain it was one of the top 10 happiest moments of my life.

Morgan & I with some of our crew, Heather, Ben & Mark...with the trophy we were oh so close to getting.

My son, Morgan, saved all his Christmas money from family to help buy his ticket to the National Championship Game.  We spent all day together.  We hugged and cheered screamed our guts out.  We lost on the last play of the college football season to the best program (maybe ever) in the last 15 years.  How can I be sad?

Saturdays (and a couple of Mondays) afforded me time with family that nothing else comes close to.  We have little control over the outcome, despite our best efforts at loud screaming and wearing lucky hats.  I wore a tie yesterday because it was an important occasion, but mostly because it was my Daddy's Bulldog tie.  It's probably older than me.  Because my daddy was there with me.

Some people will wallow in misery over this.  They will say this was the most Atlanta thing ever or the most Georgia thing ever.  Some will say they'll never get over it.  I don't get that.  What's to wallow in?  It's so, so, so very difficult to get here.  Enjoy it.  And if you care for a little football perspective -- we've got a fantastic young coach and more talent coming in than we've ever had.  This won't be the last time.  Trust me, depressing is driving home from the Liberty Bowl after losing to UCF to finish 6-7.  This wasn't depressing.

Others will wonder what's the big deal.  The big deal is that we did this together.  I saw friends from college in Chicago and Los Angeles.  I took a trip with my wife.  I spent Saturdays with my boys.  I was part of something bigger than myself.  It connected me with something deep in my soul.

Sistee, my brother, Courtney, Jim, me, Mama & Daddy

Georgia Football, has been a family thing for me for a long time.  Jim & Sistee Williams got us hooked.  I cheered for Tim Worley & Rodney Hampton the way my boys have for Todd Gurley, Nick Chubb & Sony Michel.  We are linked by generations of silver britches.

Don't be sad, Bulldog Nation.  Be grateful. 

And Dawgs...Keep Chopping.  That tree is coming down one day soon.

Sports

Kris Jenkins wins it for Villanova at the buzzer.

Sunday marked one month since the Super Bowl, and Monday I finally emerged from under my sports rock.  Since late in the night on February 5, I gave myself a one month ban on sports talk radio and barely watched ESPN except to catch a UGA or UNC basketball game.  I needed to create some separation for myself.  I didn't want to hear about, read about or talk about the improbable comeback.  I'm happy to hear the conversation is now much more about pitchers and catchers.  It's March.  Hope springs eternal for my Braves.

I've had a rough year in sports.  It all started in Houston, but not in the Super Bowl.  It started in at the Final Four at NRG Stadium. My wife is a UNC fan, and we're pretty big Tar Heel Basketball fans.  The stars were aligning last march for the Heels' third National Championship under Roy Williams.  Preseason #1.  Regular season ACC Champs.  ACC Tournament Champs.  And they'd made it to the National Championship, and even hit an improbable 3-pointer to tie it up.  Then Kris Jenkins happened, and Villanova won the greatest NCAA tournament championship ever.

Surely it would get better in the Fall.  My Dawgs had a new coach, started the season with a resounding win in the Chick-fil-a Kickoff vs. UNC (can you say house divided?), featuring our star player's (Nick Chubb) improbable comeback from injury, and thrilling last minute win at Mizzou at the hand of our rising star, freshman QB Jacob Eason.  Against undefeated Tennessee at home, we'd played our best game of the season, trailed late and made a miracle play with 10 seconds left to seemingly secure the biggest home win in several years.  It would be a huge moment for our rookie coach and rookie QB, who had made the (almost) winning pass.  Then the unthinkable happened.

Jauan Jennings makes the game winning catch.

But the Falcons were rolling through the season.  Midway through the year I thought we looked like a Super Bowl contender.  Indeed, we were.  Matt Ryan was the best player in the league, except maybe for his teammate, Julio Jones.  The offense was unstoppable and the defense was maturing.  The playoffs became the ride of the lifetime, and at halftime of the Super Bowl, I couldn't hardly believe my eyes.  We were going to win the Super Bowl.  The loss to 'Nova stung.  The Hail Mary that derailed our season still hurt.  This would give me some momentary sports joy.  Would I get the red, black or gray Super Bowl Champion shirt?  Maybe one of each, or one short sleeve and one long sleeve.  And a hat.  And a pennant for the basement.  And you know what happened.

James White scores the game winning TD in Overtime

In the stadium where the season of my sports discontent started, it ended.  I'd seen my favorites lose the greatest NCAA championship game ever, one of the greatest SEC games ever (Two 40+ yd TD passes in 10 seconds), and the greatest Super Bowl ever (the only one to ever go to overtime.)  I needed a break.

But I can't just give up on sports.  Hope springs eternal, and there are too many lessons.  During my hiatus from sports talk, my boys' basketball seasons marched on.  My youngest was in an instructional league for Kindergarten and 1st graders.  They didn't keep score.  At that age, the kids there were super aggressive kind of took over.  Nothing wrong with that.  The kids were trying to make plays and really got after it on defense.  It was hard for some kids to even get a shot off all season.  In the last couple of games, the referee cleared a path for a few kids who hadn't been able to score all year to get some clear shots.  They were ecstatic when they'd finally made one.  They beamed the whole way back down the court.  That is what sports have really been about in my life.

Sports build confidence and character like few things I know of.  They teach us to keep fighting and working hard.  They teach discipline and effort.  They teach us to respect leaders.  They teach unselfishness.  They teach teamwork.  Few things have shaped my work life and adult life the way sports did.

They also teach dealing with disappointment.  In the movie Fever Pitch, Jimmy Fallon's character, Ben, describes his affection for his beloved Red Sox and their success this way:  "I like being part of something that's bigger than me...It's good for your soul to invest in something you can't control."  And guess what?  Much of our lives we can't control, and we have to learn to get back up and move on when we're disappointed.  Even being a real fan can be positive.  Can we learn to stick with a team or organization through highs and lows or will we be a front-runner fan?  That teaches us something about commitment and relationships.  People will disappoint us.  Will we stick with them?  And isn't success sweeter when we stuck with them for the long haul?

I love art -- music, movies, artwork.  But someone decides what they look like and how they end up.  The artists controls what they create with the skills they spent a lifetime honing.  But sports are unpredictable.  We have no idea what will happen when the game begins, and how hard you worked doesn't always mean you get the results you want, and sometimes you get lucky, and sometimes the ball bounces the wrong way, and sometimes one decision changes the course of the game, and sometimes your preparation meets the perfect opportunity, and sometimes you have to play again after being incredibly disappointed, and sometimes you celebrate a win only to realize there's another game.  Ain't that life?

And the greatest thing about it?  There's always next year, and in your life, there's always tomorrow.  After all, the Heels are looking like they could make another run, the Dawgs are about to start spring practice, and the Braves look like a young, hungry team.  Don't talk to me about NFL free agency.  I'm not ready for the NFL yet.  

I'm still not over it.

At least I'm not a Warriors or Indians fan.  

Election Night in my House

It's over.  After a long night and constant checking in...it's done with.  Back to normal life.  Election night really was one to remember in my house.  It's finally finished, but it was exhausting.

That's because we had a possum in garage on election night.

That's right.  A possum came to eat may cats' food (and this is the 3rd time we've seen the fellow).  This is especially important because two of our three cats are kittens and spend most of their time right now in the garage.  And we had a possum.  Welcome to country living.

In the midst of the most contentious election in my lifetime and maybe in our country's history, I had a real homegrown problem to deal with.  And as the important decision our country was making gained clarity amidst the suspense with every vote tallied, I had an important issue to take care of myself.  And I was reminded of something very important.

Neither President-Elect Donald Trump nor Secretary of State Hillary Clinton can or will help me get the possums out of my garage.

I had to work to trap it, protect our kittens, pray and hope that our big cat could fend for herself for the night outside the garage and try to get this taken care of.  And the results of the election offered no help.  By morning, the situation was resolved, the kittens are back in their space and life is back to normal.  It probably won't be the last possum, and it definitely won't be the last family semi-emergency.  And it was such a crucial reminder for me.

I have friends on all sides politically.  Some of them are celebrating today and some are lamenting.  I'm pretty fiercely independent, and I'm also mindful as a Christian leader that I deeply desire for my life and our church to reflect that God's heart, love and salvation is for all people -- liberal, conservative, Republican, Democrat and Independent.  I have opinions, but I've never been a big 'side-picker' in politics because I know all candidates are a lot like me -- made in the image of God and yet deeply flawed.  However, I am keenly aware of the wool that perhaps we've all allowed to be pulled over our eyes this election.  And that's simply this:  that this election will provide us with answers and solutions to once and for all fix all our problems.

It won't.  You'll have to get rid of your own possums.  I like to say, "I've got dadding to do."  Being a dad is a verb for me most of the time.  I've got living to do.  I've got husbanding to do.  I've got pastoring to do.  I've got neighbor-loving to do.  I've got exercising to do.  I've got fixer-upper projects to do.  I've got financial planning to do.  I've got community involvement to do.  I've got reaching out to do.  I've got caring for the hurting to do.  I've got driving-my-boys-to-rec-league-basketball to do.

The rise of social media and endless political commentary has brought to life for me a dangerous attitude:  that a political figure offers all we need.  Neither Trump nor Clinton nor Johnson nor anyone offers such.  No president ever has.  No president ever will.

Jesus offers all we need.  Forgiveness, grace, salvation.  And then I still have to go live my life walking in grace.  And I'll still have to get rid of all the possums in my garage.  It's my responsibility, not any politicians, to be the best Christian, person, husband, father and citizen I can be.  And, honestly, election results will have little impact on that.  I get to choose how I live, and I get to be responsible for me.  And goodness, I've got enough to clean up in my own life.

What I will do is pray for President Obama and President-Elect Trump as they work through another shift in handing over of the Oval Office in a few months.  I'll continue to pray for elected officials and elections.  I'll continue to be informed and vote.  But, what I want to be most busy about is getting the possums out of my own garage.  I got one, but I think there's a lot more stuff inside my heart to clean out.

Everyday Courage

"The courage of life is often a less dramatic spectacle than the courage of a final moment; but it is no less a magnificent mixture of triumph and tragedy.  A man does what he must -- in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures -- and that is the basis of all human morality...In whatever arena of life one may meet the challenge of courage, whatever may be the sacrifices he faces if he follows his conscience -- the loss of his friends, his fortune, his contentment, even the esteem of his fellow men -- each man must decide for himself the course he will follow...For each man must look into his own soul."

-Sen. John F. Kennedy, 1956

Profiles in Courage

More than ever, I am finding we are a culture obsessed with approval.  In some arenas, it is more blatant than others.  In this election season, we are bombarded by it because approval is the life-blood of the politician.  They even call them 'approval ratings.'  Can you just imagine how awful it would be for your existence to be wrapped up in an approval rating?  But we all want to be liked.  We want likes and smiley faces on our posts on social media.  We want pats on the back.  My profession, pastoral ministry, is overcome with the desire for approval.  We serve large volunteer organizations, and I don't know a pastor that doesn't want to be liked.

But this is true of nearly everyone.  Yet, approval isn't all we want.  We want security, peace, and to be admired.  We want easy street.  Courage requires a detour from easy street.  That's why it's often so absent.

I am convinced that we need a new generation of courageous people.  We need courageous leaders, courageous parents, courageous coaches, courageous pastor, courageous teachers, courageous bosses, and courageous.  But to act with courage, one has to face the discomfort that follows it.  If nothing is ever difficult, ever costly, ever risky...courage is not needed.

The problem with our lack of courage is that our value is derived from the things we stand to lose should be act courageously.  We like being liked.  We like fame.  We like our security.  We like being popular.  We like that our friends respect us or think like us.  But nothing great will ever happen in this world if people put their need for being liked about what is the right thing to do.  We call that integrity.  We call that character.

For people of faith, there is a deeper calling for courage and a deeper understanding of our self-worth.  The inner urging for courageous action must be coupled with the understanding that, though our courage might lose us favor with others, our favor with God was determined on the cross of Christ.  Our valor is rooted in the undeterred belief that God's love can never be separated for us.  You see, for people of faith it's actually easier to be courageous.  But that doesn't mean it's prevalent.  All of us, even those of us who call ourselves Christians, are subject to the temptation of security, being liked and not rocking the boat.  But this world that needs changing won't be changed by those that are liked most.  It'll be changed by those that exhibited courage for the most noble causes.

Whatever you face today.  Be courageous.  The world needs the most courageous version of you.

Olympic Level Competition

Admit it.  You watch the Olympics and start thinking about training for 2020.  Or you sign up for a local 5K.  Or you at least join a bowling league.  There is something beautiful about the Olympics.  It's the competition.

Our world seems to be afraid of competition.  We don't want to declare winners and losers.  To me, competition has been one of the greatest lessons athletics taught me.  If you play sports long enough.  you're going to lose.  If you stick to it, you'll probably win some thrilling competitions.  Heartbreak and heroics.  Crushing losses and exhilarating wins.  The agony of defeat and the thrill of victory.  Competition teaches us a healthy disdain for losing.  It pushes us to do and be our best.  It drives us toward improvement.  It narrows our focus.

The reason I think competition is so healthy is that the greatest and most important competition is with ourselves.  It is easy to become complacent and lazy with ourselves.  But this isn't the path God would have for us.  God desires us to mature and be our best with each step we take on the journey.  We are in competition to take the next step in our faith, in our courage, and in our trust with Him.  

After a while, any athlete learns that the games were just games.  They don't count in real life.  Marriage, raising children, relationships, impacting our community, and our relationship with God are what really count.  The competition is to be the best version of us in the games that really count -- in life.  

One of my favorite verses is Colossians 3:23, "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord."  That's the heart of competition with ourselves.  Don't short change the ones you love by being the most 'okay' person you can be.  Compete.  Be the best version of you.  There will be losses.  Dust yourself off and get to work the next day.

They will not televise your victories or competitions.  But competing with yourself to being the best you that you've ever been is far more important than any medal.  So give that mistake you made the Michael Phelps stank-eye and get to work the next day.

Next Season

There is a tendency to miss the season you're in because you're looking to the next.  The next season always looks better, but there's so much in this season we shouldn't miss.

Whenever I go to an empty-nester's house (whether it be our parents or friends), I'm always amazed at how immaculate their houses are.  My house looks like an F5 tornado made it's way through the den and hallways.  There is always a basketball and bike in the yard.  There are paper airplanes everywhere.  There are cups and water bottles from school lunches all over the counter.  There are legos and nerf gun bullets in the strangest places.  It's because I have four boys 12 and under living in this house.  This is just the way it is.  It's easy to look at those clean houses and think, "Man, that'd be nice."  But those houses don't have little boys (or girls) living in them any more.  And I'll miss these days once they come.

The seasons pass so fast, and we shouldn't be so hurried to get through them to the next one.  The next one will be fine and good, but it will have its own shortcomings, and you'll miss the things about this season you never thought you would.

• Middle schoolers can't wait to get to high school, but find out that high school isn't as care free as it seems.
• High schoolers can't wait to get to college or get a 'real job' but find out college professors and bosses aren't as forgiving as their high school Social Studies teacher was.
• Young adults can't wait to have a baby, but they learn that babies are a lot of work.
• Young parents can't wait for their babies to be able to walk and play, but it doesn't take long to realize they make a lot more messes.
• Parents with kids can't wait for their kids to get a little more responsibility as teenagers, but, you know, then you have teenagers.
• Parents can't wait for their kids to get on their own, but the house seems eerily quiet.
• We can't wait to retire but find that we lose a little purpose sometimes in retirement.

Ecclesiastes 3:1 says, "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens."  If we are always bemoaning the season we are in, we'll miss the beauty of it.  If we are always looking at what's next, we might miss what's now.  

My oldest nephew is graduating high school in a few weeks.  It was just yesterday I was holding him in the hospital.  Just yesterday it seems.  It goes by fast.  Every season.  So enjoy every season.  The next one will be great, but milk today for all its worth.  You never get it back.

15 years

March 10, 2001
First Baptist Church - Hamlet, NC

Today, March 10, is our 15th wedding anniversary.  It's hard for me to believe it has gone by so fast.  Just yesterday we were newlyweds without a care in the world.  We came and went as we pleased, took walks and naps.  Now we have children.  Lots of them.  Four rowdy boys.  Going and coming is much more difficult, but the house is a lot livelier.  I'm also keenly aware that 15 years from now on our 30th anniversary there will be no boys in the house, and it'll be quiet again -- just me and Em.  So, for this season, we spend a lot more time being mom and dad than being husband and wife.  But we don't really see it that way.  It's kind of all rolled into one.

In 15 years, we've learned a lot about life, marriage, and family.  We've learned a lot about ourselves, our faith and our Lord.  And we're still learning.  Can I tell you something, though, about our marriage that has been such a high value for us and so important in our 15 years?  I've never spoken a cross word to Emily.  She's never spoken one to me.  We've never raised our voices at each other, and I'm not kidding you, we've never had an argument.

Now, that's not to say there haven't been difficult times and seasons.  We've had to work through misunderstandings, disappointment and hurt feelings.  It happens in marriage.  But we have always done it with love and kindness.  She's never hurt me on purpose, and I've never hurt her on purpose.  We've never said something to intentionally cut each other down to size.  And it has made all the difference.  She is my teammate, why would I fight with her?  Besides, we're outnumbered in this house.  We've got to stick together.

We have asked instead of commanded.  We've taken a breath instead of reacting.  We've spoken softly instead of getting agitated.  We've forgiven instead of holding a grudge.  We've overlooked flaws instead of being irritated by them.  We've embraced each other's quirks.

But, the secret is that we genuinely try to put each other first.  I try to fix what she needs fixed around the house.  She runs the errands I asked her to run.  We respect each other and honor each other.  We try to think of what each other would want.  We don't push our agenda.  We seek to serve each other.
All the time I say that staying married isn't that hard.  I guess that's not totally true.  It is hard if you're not willing to put your spouse before yourself.  Pretty soon, any of us would get pretty irritated living with a selfish person.  And that's the root of all marriage issues:  selfishness.  That's why perhaps the most important passage for a marriage is Philippians 2:3-4:  "Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others."  15 years in, and we're still learning how to do this, but I think we're better at it now more than ever, and I think we're getting better at it.  That's our goal, to get better at laying ourselves down for each other.  And that's why marriage is such a powerful metaphor for our relationship with God.  Putting down our own interests for the interest of God is what life in Jesus is, ultimately, all about.

Happy 15 years, my Love.  Can't wait for more!

Losing an Hour

This week is the week every pastor dreads:  Daylight Savings Time.  Oh, don't get me wrong.  I'm delighted about longer days.  It's just that pastors are the major people that have to deal with the stress of Daylight Savings Time.  Will folks oversleep and miss church?  Will volunteers and staff show up on time?  Will everyone be confused?

Why can't we lose and hour in the middle of the workday on Monday?

Life Hack:  Eat a light breakfast and change your clocks when you get up on Saturday morning.  Get your body eating on the new schedule and you'll go to bed at the right time (which is really an hour earlier) and won't feel so tired on Sunday and Monday.

Anyway, I'm more concerned about the hours I lose on my own volition.  I'm more concerned about the hours I'll never get back.  Just yesterday, it seems we were holding our firstborn son.  He'll be 12 this summer, and he has less time at home than the time he's already spent at home.  I can't lose an hour with him or any of my boys.

As they get older, it becomes increasingly apparent that frivolous pursuits that waste time aren't worth it.  I need to savor every moment, because we've only got about seven years left with him, eight with my second born.  The clock is ticking.  It's ticking on the time I have to influence them, mold them, mentor them, shape them, encourage them, discipline them, teach them, do life with them and love them.

They'll go tot college and do life with friends.  They'll get married and do life with their wives and kids.  But we have to teach them how to do life.  For me, it's very important that I teach them what it means to love Jesus.  Time is the most precious commodity of a parent, and the hours of carpooling and sitting through ballgames, practices and recitals can be exhausting.  But don't lose those hours.  Make them count.  You only get so many.  And you never get them back.

Thanksgiving thankfulness

I hope you are gearing for a great Thanksgiving with friends and family.  I hope you'll be able to make it back for worship on Sunday as we'll continue "Pointing to a Promise" by talking about David.  We have a lot to learn about character from him.  You might even hear some Christmas songs!

Thought for the Week
"I will praise God’s name in song and glorify him with thanksgiving."  Psalm 69:30

I've made it a custom the last few years to make a list each Thanksgiving for the things for which I'm most thankful.  I'll surely leave a host of blessings out, but here's the ones that come to mind this day.

I'm thankful for...

• The blood of Jesus that covers over my multitude of sins.
• The grace of God that sustains me each and every day.
• My sweet wife, Emily.
• My four wild boys, Morgan, Tanner, Walker and Brooks.
• To still have my parents with me, because I know so many that don't.
• Parents and in-laws that support us so much
• Our brothers, sister-in-laws, nephews and niece.
• My church family.  What a gift to serve a risk-taking and outreach-focused community of faith.
• For not having Christmas Eve services in high school in a month.
• For new friends at Harmony Grove that we didn't know a 18-months ago.
• For the faithful who have bled and cried with me for any part of the last 10 years in planting a church.
• For safety.  In this day and age, every day is a gift.
• to Disney for bringing back Star Wars and giving me and my boys the chance to see one in the theater together.
• For Southern winters that don't really start until about mid-December and end quickly.
• For the sunshine...for a while there I thought it had disappeared.
• To the mentors that have poured their cups into mine.
• For the light at the end of the tunnel in my school work.
• For pastor friends to laugh, cry and celebrate with.
• For Jeremy Pruitt, Jake Ganus and Sony Michel.  It would have been a long fall without those three.
• For Mello Yello Zero and Coke Zero.  
• For Pop Tarts -- I love those things.
• For my health, notwithstanding the pop tarts.
• For the opportunity to talk College Football each week on WJBB 107.1 in Barrow County.  It's been a blast.
• For coffee.
• For sleeping in.
• For warm socks.  I'm really starting to appreciate good socks in my old age.
• For the chance to do life every day.
• And I'm thankful for you.  It's people that make this world great and people that have so blessed my life.

In Christ,

Carter

Trust builds relationships

We live in a world where there is an incredible lack of trust.  We don't trust anyone to do anything.  We don't trust that others won't sue us, so we have waivers for nearly every activity under the sun.  We don't trust our community, so we have video surveillance.  We don't trust our kids, or even ourselves, so we have have firewalls on our computers.  Yet, trust is THE currency for relationships, and it builds and strengthens relationships like nothing else.  We just rarely see it anymore.

That's why I was shocked on Monday when I went to eat lunch at a local restaurant.  They don't take cards, only cash, and the server/cashier said, "Don't worry if you don't have any cash, you can just pay us next time you come in."  But I had never been before.  And how did she know I was coming back?  What if I was from out of town?  I had cash, so I paid my bill, but it was still staggering.  But you know what?  It made me want to come back.  The burger I was about to order was now going to taste better because she trusted me.  She believed in me.  She thought there was good in me.  Often, we find what we're looking for.

Trust is believing there is something good in others.  Now, people will disappoint us and hurt us, but we don't do each other, society, and our families any good when we don't trust each other.  Instead, when we trust others, we can often bring out the best in them because, deep down, we humans don't really want to let each other down.

If you want deep relationships, you have to trust.  This is what is so profound about our relationship with God.  He trusts us with so much.  He trusts us with our freedom, the earth, our families.  He trusts us with His Church and His message.  He trusts us with His heart.  And when we don't trust Him, our relationship with God suffers.  Trust is THE currency of relationships.  When we withhold trust from God, we are saying that we aren't sure if there is good in Him.  We are unsure of Him.  We are thinking He might let us down.  He won't.  Think about all He has trusted you with.  It's because He loves you and believes in you.  That ought to inspire us to trust Him.

I certainly wanted to trust Casey's in downtown Winder with my business again because they trusted me.  BTW, the Bacon Pimento Cheese Burger with Sweet Potato Fries is spot on.

Offline Life

So, a couple of weeks ago, I cracked my screen on my iPhone -- for the second time in about two months.  There is much to this story.  I loathe cases on my phones.  I like it to be as slim and slick as possible to fit in my pocket.  That works well when it stays in your pocket.  Not so much when it doesn't.  Concrete and pavement do not get along with uncased iPhones.  This is fact.  So, this time, I cracked it good on a Friday afternoon.  The earliest I could get an appointment at an Apple Store was the next Tuesday night, so I went four days without a phone.  I learned two important lessons.

1. There is nothing 'out there' more important than 'right here.'  Our constant connectivity to the outside world has made us think that there is something more important going on 'out there.'  Will we miss something in our Facebook and Twitter feeds?  Is there something new going on at the websites I like?  Did I miss a blog post?  Oh no, I don't have a camera so I can share what is happening right here out there?  Not being constantly connected kind of forced me to focus on the here and what I was doing at that moment, whether it be hanging out with my kids and wife or focusing on something that deserved 100% of my attention.  Connection to the world is a gift, but there's nothing going on 'out there' that's more important than your 'right here.'
2. Listen to the people that love you.  My wife, children and mother all told me repeatedly to get a case.  I was stubborn.  It wasn't what I wanted, but it wasn't an unreasonable thing they were suggesting.  They were just trying to protect me.  There are a very few times in life when you may see a bigger picture than others in your life can't yet see, but MOST of the time, if the people that love you are telling you something, listen.  A phone is a silly thing, but this isn't silly for most folks.  When your child ask you to stop smoking, when a parent tells you to get your degree, when a spouse asked you to stop working so late, when a friend says that's enough drinks, when a loved one tells you they're worried about you...listen.  They love you.  Critics are sometimes right and sometimes wrong.  It's about 50/50 because they don't really know you.  People that love you are almost always right.  Listen to them

I got my phone fixed and a shiny new case.  But just so you know, the slam dunk I did in our driveway game of H-O-R-S-E on our 8-foot basketball goal that caused my phone to fall out of my pocket was EPIC!

Why it matters and why it doesn't

A few months ago, during the long dog days of summer in which college football fans like me wait for the season to begin while munching on every morsel of football news emanating from their beloved program, I caught a replay of the movie Fever Pitch on TV.  I'd seen it a couple of times.  I relate to it because my passion for college football mirrors the passion for the Red Sox portrayed in the movie.  In a pivotal scene, Ben is trying to explain why this is so important to him.  He has been attending Red Sox games since he first went with his uncle twenty-three years ago at the age of seven.  The crowd he sits around has become his family.  His friends jockey for the games they get to go to.  She's been to a few games, but she still doesn't get it.  He asks Lindsey a question:  "Do you still care about anything you cared about 23 years ago?"

One question explains the power of sports.  I suppose for others this could be movies or music (both of which I love as well), but for me, that passion has been college football.  I am enthralled by the atmosphere and nostalgia of it.  In high school you play for your school because you are zoned for it.  In the NFL you play for the team that picks you and chooses to employ you.  A college roster is filled with 100 guys who chose the school, and the stands are filled with alumni who also chose the school and local fans who grew up cheering for the hometown team.  They are still kids, but they are remarkably gifted athletically.

Each school has a fight and strange traditions.  In the SEC, most of the uniforms even still look the same as they did in the '60's and '70's.  This is why I love going to the games.  The bands, the colors, the pageantry, the tailgating...the electricity in the air.  And every time I walk into a stadium, I am flooded with memories of yesteryear.  I am reminded of the drive down Hwy. 106 from Carnesville to Athens coming from South Carolina.  I'm reminded of sitting with my parents and hugging strangers after a big win.  I'm reminded of my hand in my Daddy's back pocket walking through the crowd, so I wouldn't get lost.  I'm reminded of pre-game battles of touch football.  I'm reminded of eating BBQ chicken and 'talking football' with men 40 years older than me.  In the pregame, we were equal.  There is no age when you are worried about how healthy your tailback is or if the D can stop that passing offense they've got.  You are simply fans together.  And I hold these memories with my boys now.  I'm the dad, still caring about something I cared about 33 years ago when I saw Herschel Walker play live and in person.  My boys draw pictures of their favorite players like I drew mine.  And we celebrate with football friends that are like family and see the same faces around our seats, each of them amazed as they've watched my boys grow up with every passing September.  That's why it matters, because so few things in life matter beyond a few years.  We change jobs and houses.  We lose touch with friends and find new friends.  But we never change teams, and we share the same memories with our children that our parents shared with us.  It matters because it has always mattered, and besides our faith and our family, few things always matter in our lives.

But it doesn't matter THAT much.  I recently read an article about Greg McGarity's first five years as Athletics Director at the University of Georgia.  They asked him what was the most difficult moment in those five years.  I thought, "It had to be that Liberty Bowl loss to Central Florida, or the devastating loss to Alabama in the 2012 SEC Championship Game.  Or maybe it was when a string of players go arrested."  His answer was surprising, telling and humbling.  It was when Jonathan Taylor, an outfielder for the UGA baseball team, was paralyzed during a collision in which he and a teammate both dove for a ball.  Because that's the kind of stuff that matters.  These are just games.  They are supposed to be fun.  They should be fun.  They should be disappointing when you lose.  But they don't matter THAT much.  An athlete who can't walk ever again after giving his all while competing...THAT matters.

As another college football season draws near, let us remember (especially here in the Deep South), that the reason this matters so much really isn't about wins and losses.  It's the traditions, camaraderie and glory of it all that makes it matter each and every year, whether our team is champions or chumps that season.  And winning is fun, but it won't last.  There will still be bills to pay and life to live the next Monday.  It's a burst of joy, a few months of relief, but it's not life and death.  We'd trade a thousand wins for a kid to walk again.  Football and sports are about people and relationships.  They are about learning to compete and overcome adversity.  For those that are people of faith, this ought to be crystal clear, but when we are looking glasses tinted with our teams favorite color, sometimes it's easy to forget.

Enjoy the season!

Coffee, Cake & Coversation

We're excited to be launching a 4-week Wednesday night series called "Coffee, Cake & Conversation" at Harmony Grove Church of the Way.  We'll be discussing some of the hottest topics in our culture.  I'll be joined by other pastors and community leaders to talk about the following issues:

Sept. 9 - RACE
Sept. 16 - HOMOSEXUALITY
Sept. 23 - POLITICS
Sept. 30 - DATING

There are a few ways you can be involved:

1.  Join us for refreshments at 6 p.m. and dialogue at 6:30 p.m.  Childcare available up through 5th grade.

2.  Send in a question!  You can do that in a variety of ways:

• Leave it in the comments here.
• tweet us @churchoftheway
• post it to facebook at www.facebook.com/churchoftheway
• email to info@churchoftheway.net
• Leave a card in one of the boxes at one of our campuses

Leadership & Life Lessons from My First (and Probably Only) Season of Coaching T-Ball

The Fightin' Super Tigers -- Champs!

I was going to help coach.  You know, be an assistant.  I had two boys that would be playing together.  One 4 and one 6, at the time.  But, I had two other sons playing flag football, and it was a busy season at church.  Then I got the call:  "We need one more head coach.  Would you be willing to coach?"  I love my community, so I begrudgingly agreed.  I really, really didn't have time for this.  And I'm a football guy.  I quit baseball after the 8th grade and most of my glory on the diamond happened in church softball leagues.  But I know enough to coach Kindergartners.  And I know a lot about kids.  So I did it.  We had a blast, gave ourselves a cool name (Fightin' Super Tigers), made a lot of new friends and good memories and won the league championship, with a 14-0 record.  I was so proud of our boys, and I learned a good deal about life, parenting, leadership and even a little about church.

• You can't change the past, so why rehash it.  Point to a better future.  T-ballers make mistakes all the time.  They throw it when they should hold it, hold it when they should throw it.  They run the wrong direction and tag the wrong runner.  After a mistake and play has stopped, if you yell at a T-baller, they're just going to cry.  The only thing you can do is point to them to the next opportunity.  "Hey, next time throw it here."  "Next time get your glove down."  "Next time, run to this base."  People are the same.  They don't need our judgment, but they do need people who care about the them to point toward a better future.  The church could learn something from this.  We need to stop yelling at the world for the mistakes it's made and point toward a better future with Jesus.  People need hope, not condemnation. 
• There are often a lot of voices telling us what to do.  Be sure and listen to the right ones.  People are screaming like crazy in the stands when a fielder has the ball in T-ball, telling them what to do with it.  About half of those are right.  Kids have to learn to trust their coach, which says a lot about authority but also listening to the right voices in life.  All of us have voices telling us a lot of things.  Not all of them are telling us to throw it in the right direction.  Who are the influences you're listening to?
• Every organization needs team members to play their role well.  My youngest wasn't crazy about playing right field and batting last, but he was very inexperienced and the smallest guy on the team.  There is only one circle (pitcher position) and only one kid can play it.  You have to have others do their part.  I heard one comment after we won the championship game that our outfield won the game because they got the ball in to the infield after every ball hit to them.  This is an accomplishment in T-ball.  But the 'role players' made the difference in the championship.
• Listen to experts and learn from them.  Like I said, I don't know much about baseball, but last year, we played on a T-Ball team that went 15-0 with one of the best coaches my boys have ever had.  He knew baseball and I came home after the 1st practice and said, "We're going to be pretty good."  I modeled our practices and gameday routine after him.
• Winning is fun and creates organizational momentum.  The bottom line is that winning is fun.  We went 14-0.  People say the kids don't care about winning, but after every game they were shouting "We won, we won, we won!"  They came up with this on their own.  We had fun anyway, and I've been a part of teams that had a lot of fun, kids got better and we didn't win a lot of games.  Winning isn't everything, especially at this age.  But, winning creates organizational momentum.  When staffs, businesses, teams, churches, or organizations don't ever feel like they are winning, it's hard to create momentum.  So, is your organization winning?
• People don't mind working hard if they they believe in the vision.  Our last week of the season, after a 2 1/2 month season, we had games on Monday, Thursday and Saturday in the end of year tournament.  I scheduled a practice on Friday night.  Nearly all the team showed up and I think it made the difference in the championship game.  We didn't play great that Thursday, and we needed to work to play better.  The vision was not to win.  The vision was to make sure we play our best.  That's all we can control.  We needed to practice to be our best.  Parents bought into the vision of excellence.
• Sometimes others have to step up.  We had games where kids were sick, injured our out of town and kids had to switch positions.  They did great.  Families, churches, businesses, and teams all have times others have to unexpectedly step up.  Nearly every game a kid who wasn't one of our biggest hitters got a key hit and got on base we needed to avoid an out.  If your organization has a mantra of "That's not my job," that's dangerous territory.  People have to step up and share responsibilities if an organization is going to be successful.
• People skills matter.  I don't know baseball, but I know how to motivate young people to be the best they can be.  I truly believe that in our culture today, you have to have people skills.  I am concerned about a generation that spends most of its time with a face in front of a screen.  Will they have the capacity to communicate with people in 10, 20, 30 years?  I hope so.  I believe people skills are the most important.  Love people, communicate with people, encourage people.  And people respond.
• There will be days you are not at your best.  Can you still compete on those days?  No one feels like a million bucks every day.  We had days when we didn't play our best, but we had to pick ourselves up and play as hard as we could.  Life has seasons we're not at our best.  Sometimes it's as simple as putting one step in front of the other.  You have to keep going.
• Running from third base to home is a dangerous trek.  As the pitcher to my team, I ran over two kids running home as I exited the field while looking down the first base line.  One of them was my older son on the team.  Both kids lived to tell about it.  
• My youngest led the league in hat and glove throwing while in the outfield.  I mean, he was a champion at glove throwing.  Best I've ever seen.  He had a blast this season.  And I'm pretty sure he would have had just as much fun if we'd have been 0-14.  Because he was coached by his dad and got to play ball.

                                               

                                                                Brooks, my youngest, the team clown.

It was a fun spring.  Sports teach us a lot of lessons.  And I've learned one more.  I think I'm going to retire from coaching and go out on top!

Sunday Preview & Thought for the Week (5.7.15)

I hope you've had a great week.  This series "Why are Christians so..." has challenged me.  It's difficult work for Christ followers to dig deep into what others think of us, especially if it's uncomfortable.  It's so easy to just say, "Well, God knows the truth."  Over and over again in the Bible, we see people like Noah and Job who grew not only in their faith, but in their stature and reputation among others around them.  This week, we're going to continue the hard work of looking within and ask what others are asking:  "Why are Christians so self-righteous?"

Thought for the Week
"Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing."  Luke 13:34

That's a quote from Jesus many don't know.  He looks over Jerusalem and sees them with a mother's eyes.  God is often described as our loving Father, and rightfully so.  He is the Father that waits expectantly for the prodigals to come home.  But Jesus takes a different angle.  He sees those that are hurting and scattered through the lens of a mother's love.  This Sunday is Mother's Day and a time all of us reflect back on the love of our mother, whether or not she is still with us.  Of course, we're also reminded of the many other women who mothered us through the years.  A grandmother, step-mom, aunt or even Sunday School teacher.  There is something about the nurturing spirit of motherly love.  Do you know that this is how Christ sees you?  He wants to nurture you and guide you back on the path.  He wants to gather you up and put band-aids on all your old wounds.  He wants to sit around the table and nourish you.  He wants to bring you home, with him, to love you and dote on you.  Let us not be among those that scatter and run away from this Eternal Parent that wants us back in the fold.  Let us not be fearful of a Big Judge in the sky.  That is not the image Jesus intends here.  No, the message is clear.  As a mother hen sees her precious little chicks, so I see you.  You are vulnerable, but you are mine.  Come home where it is safe.  No matter how far you've wandered...you can always come home to Jesus.

In Christ,

Carter McInnis
Lead Pastor

Tragedy

Yesterday, the state of Georgia was rocked with the news of five young Georgia Southern students who were killed in a multi-car wreck on I-16.  The five young women were nursing students on the way to a clinical in Savannah.  From the pictures I've seen of them on social media, they were full of life and enthusiasm.  Sometimes you can see it in a smile.  I thought of a few of my dearest friends who have daughters at GSU.  It could have been them.  They're about the same age.  It hits close to home.

Simply, there is not real answer for tragedy.  Shame us when we try to find one.  God did NOT need five more angels.  God's got plenty of angels, and we humans don't become angels anyway.  It wasn't 'their time to go.'  No one has a time.  It wasn't God's will.  My God is not in the business of killing young, vibrant college students.  Everything does NOT happen for a reason.  Sometimes there are no reasons.  Sometimes there is simply tragedy that interrupts life.

We live in a broken world where sin, death, and tragedy are a reality.  There was a plan in which it was not like this.  It was called Eden.  But the brokenness of humanity knocked this world off it's axis, and we've seen heartache and tragedy ever since.  It was not God's original design that we would ever see death.

To believe that God wills our deaths and controls events is a tragic and unfortunate kind of thinking.  It doesn't reveal the true heart of God and the greatest promises of Scripture.  Tragedy simply happens.  Our broken world rears its ugly head sometimes.  Life derails just because it does.  There are no reasons, no greater plan, and no answers.

But there are promises.  God's promise is that He is with us, even when we walk through the valley of the shadow of death.  He comforts us.  He does not and will not abandon us, no matter how bleak it seems.  My hope and prayer for those families of those precious girls is that they would know the abiding presence of God in these days and the days to come.

And there is another promise.  We weren't supposed to taste death, but we did.  The fall of humanity in Genesis carved a path that each of us have followed.  Since the beginning, we have had a death problem.  God fixed that.  That's why Easter matters to us.  Those of us who follow Christ are still in the 'Easter Season' in which we are celebrating Christ's resurrection from the grave.  We believe Jesus defeated death.  And the hope of the Christian is that, in Christ, we will, too.  Not only in eternal life, but in the resurrection to come.  We really believe that.  We believe that God is with us in the valley, and that one day we will rise again, stare death in the face and say, "Where, o death, is your victory; where is your sting?"  

In the face of tragedy, let us not say the trite things that end up being hurtful more than helpful.  There is no reason for these things.  God is as heartbroken as us.  He weeps at our broken world.  He weeps at our death.  But He is with us, and he has been devising a plan to win back His people over death since the beginning.  May those who face tragedy rests in His presence, and may we all hope in His promises.

Right here, Daddy!

I am coaching T-ball this year.  My two youngest sons, 4 and 6, are on the team.  My six-year old is a pretty good ball player and can swing the bat pretty good.  My little one, Brooks, is a little fella and one of the youngest on the team.  He swings as hard as he can, which isn't very hard, but he hits it off the tee alright.

I pitch each player three pitches before they get two swings off the tee.  A couple of games ago, I hit Brooks.  He was none too happy.  The next game up, he was obsessed with me pitching it perfect -- right down the middle.  He basically stuck his bat out and said, "Pitch it right here."  It became more of a game of me trying to hit the bat rather than him trying to hit the ball.  I told him that he had to actually swing the bat himself and do some work.  He pointed and said, "Right here."

Isn't that the way we are with God?  Throw it right here, Father, right down broadway.  We don't want to have to swing.  We want God do to things juuuuust right in our lives so that it requires minimal effort on our part.  But we have to swing.  We have to take steps of faith.  We might have to practice.  We might have to swing and miss a few times.  We might even strike out.  God wants to give us opportunities, but we have to swing the bat.

Don't miss out on what God has in store because you're waiting for the perfect pitch.  Swing the bat at the pitch God has given you right now.  It won't be the last pitch.  Faith is swinging when we're not sure if we're going connect.  Faith is swinging after we missed the last time.  Faith is trusting that God will put the right ball in the right spot at the just the right time we need a home run.  You see, God believes in us.  Believes we can hit it.  Believes in who He created us to be.  God doesn't want to do it alone.  God wants to do it with us, in us and through us.  So swing away.  Trust me...God is a much better pitcher than me.

Sunday Preview & Thought for the Week (8.28.14)

I hope you're having a great week and beating the heat.  I can't believe it's almost September!  This Sunday is Tailgate Sunday, so I hope you'll plan to bring a side dish or two and wear the gear of your favorite team, school, or driver.  We'll have awards for Best Outfit, Best Side Dish, & Best Dessert.  

We're also finishing up the Legacy series as we talk about what kind of legacy to leave for our children and grandchildren.  I believe God has an important word to speak to all of us as we conclude this series.

Thought for the Week
"Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves."  Genesis 11:4

For thousands of years, humans have been trying to make a name for themselves.  Whenever it is about our fame, our fortune, a name for ourselves...it is coming from the wrong spot in our hearts.  The story of the Tower of Babel in Genesis was about age old struggles with which we all deal:  arrogance, pride, and fame.  They wanted to make a name for themselves.  The problem with this mindset is that it isolates from others and God, and we were created for relationship, not isolation.  When we seek our own glory and fame, we naturally create competition with others.  Our success becomes more important than the success of others, the team, the company, the society.  We isolate ourselves that our name might be lifted up, and we hurt others along the way.  Moreover, we isolate ourselves from God.  The more we seek to be our own god, the farther we get from God.  As we seek to make a name for ourselves, we begin to feel like God is pretty lucky to have us on the team.  We miss God's amazing grace then.  When we walk in humility, we are able to embrace God's mercy and love, which we don't deserve, which makes us more humble.  We then work to lift up the name of Jesus, the redeemer of our souls.  And we begin lift up others because we begin to have the heart of God.  Isn't it interesting that what God did by confusing the languages at Babel was, essentially, isolating the people.  That is what arrogance does.  In what ways or in what areas are you seeking a name for yourself rather than making great the name of Almighty God?
 
Something to think about.

In Christ,

Carter 

Robin Williams: Three Things the Tragedy Can Teach Us

Some movies that seem to be on TV a lot.  A few of them always stop me for at least 10 minutes of viewing.  Talladega Nights.  A Few Good Men.  Old School.  Country Strong.  Bruce Almighty.  National Treasure.  And Mrs. Doubtfire.  Sometimes I stop for more than 10 minutes while surfing channels on a lazy evening.  Every time I stop for a few minutes on Mrs. Doubtfire, Robin Williams makes me chuckle.  We've seemingly lost that kind of comedy in modern culture.  Like many, Williams' death on Monday brought me sadness.

Robin Williams was raised Episcopalian.  Of course, none of us really know how much his faith played a role in the inner workings of his heart.  We know he brought laughter to millions of others in a brilliant career.  We know he struggled with substance abuse and depression.  We know he reached a point of despair that caused him to take his own life.  His death sheds light on a subject often left in the shadows, especially in the church.  There are really no answers to some of the deep questions a situation like this begins to ask, but there three insights that I think are worth considering.

1. Life over career.  There is no question that Robin Williams was a smashing success in his career.  If he was in a movie, you simply knew it was going to be good.  If he was on Letterman, you were going to stay up and watch.  If he made a cameo on a sitcom, it would be one of the most memorable episodes.  Dead Poet's Society.  Good Will Hunting.  The Awakening.  Mrs. Doubtfire.  RV.  The Birdcage.  Patch Adams.  He could do it all.  But there were obvious holes in his life.  I don't think I'm passing judgment to say that none of us want to be remembered in our personal lives for three marriages, substance abuse and suicide.  It breaks my heart that someone so gifted, whom I loved to watch perform, was battling so many personal demons.  Nevertheless, it is an important reminder for any of us chasing success in a career that succeeding in life, love, and relationships far outweighs the successes of business or work.  It's possible a "successful" career can even be detrimental to the rest of life.  It's not worth it.  We shouldn't have to choose.  We can do both.  But choose nurturing life and relationships over career.  I don't know if Williams chose career over life.  What is clear is that his professional life soared while his personal life struggled.  It's at least a reminder to nurture our hearts and families first.
2. Substance abuse.  It's no joke.  I don't know anyone who abuses drugs or alcohol who's story ended well.  I know a ton of people who turned things around from addiction and began writing a beautiful story.  You can turn it around.  You really can.  But you're probably going to need help.  Nearly all of those stories of turn-around include therapy or a program or rehab.  There's nothing wrong with that.  Those are people who chose to do whatever it took to get help...to change...to start over.  Don't mess with this stuff.  It won't end well.  It may not end in suicide or an untimely death, but it WILL end with a trail of brokenness and heartache.  It WILL NOT end well.  But you can re-write your story.  God is waiting with pen in hand to help rewrite it.  He loves, loves, loves a good second-chance story.
3. Depression and Suicide need to be talked about in church.  These are real issues.  I wish I could say 'just trust in Jesus more and everything will be okay.'  That's not the case.  Jesus is pivotal in this, but I believe Jesus has gifted talented and wise counselors and physicians to help.  Depression is a real problem and sickness.  You're not crazy or just sad.  It's okay to see a doctor.  PLEASE SEE A DOCTOR!  Talk to someone.  See your pastor.  Talk to a friend.  Then see a doctor.  We don't need to sweep depression under a rug in the church.  We need to help people.  I don't understand it all, but I want to help people get to doctors that do and can help them.  If you know someone might be struggling with depression or thoughts of suicide, do whatever it takes to help them.  If you're struggling with depression or thoughts of suicide, talk to someone.  Heck, you can email me here.  Jesus loves you so much he died for you, and He has a big plan for you.  Whatever you're dealing with, He wants to walk with you and there are countless others who love you and want to walk with you, too.

I don't have anything profound to add to Robin Willams' death.  I wish it weren't so.  I wish he'd called someone who loved him when he thought there was no hope.  I wish he'd stayed away from drugs and alcohol.  I wish he'd nourished his soul and relationships more, even if that meant making a few less movies.  But I don't know the details.  You don't either.  What I do know is there are lessons to learn there that I can apply to my own life.  And there are lessons that I want to apply to those I love who might be struggling with the same demons.  I want them to know that there are many who love them and that there is a NAME at which even the darkest demons shudder.

Quiet House

My house is ridiculously quiet this week.  My two oldest boys (8 and 10) are at camp and my two youngest boys (4 and 6) are at their grandparents'.  We are childless for about 4-5 days.  It is weird.  It's hard to describe to people.  According to the 2010 census, only 9% of American families have three or more children under 18 at home.  They don't have a category for 4 or more because there are only 13 of us across the nation :)

Having four children is an absolute blessing to us.  We can't really imagine life any other way.  You hear the McInnis family coming from a mile away, and we leave a restaurant, we leave it well used.  I try to tip well.  That server deserves it.  But it's a crazy life -- and very loud.  With all four of mine being boys, we live with the reality that virtually everything in our home is on the brink of being broken.  It could happen at any minute, really.  If they haven't broken it, it's next on the list.  And they are awesome boys.  They're just, well, boys.

But this week is bizarre.  It's the first stretch we've ever had like this since our youngest was born.  Did I mention it was quiet?  I told my wife that this is what it will be like when Brooks' graduates.  He'll be the last to go, and it'll be quiet every day.  That's only 14 years away.  Fourteen years used to seem like a long time.  It's flying buy now.  I've only got nine years of school left with my oldest.  Nine!  Virtually my entire wardrobe is older than nine years.

I've been reading Numbers recently, one of the first five books of the Bible.  Numbers are important to God.  God tells us to number our days in Psalm 90:12.  I'm starting to count them.  Nine years for Morgan.  Fourteen until they're all gone.  Fourteen.  That's nothing.  I'll only be 52 when they're all gone.  But what I have is these 9 to 14 years ahead to influence them.  When they leave, my influence in their lives will diminish.  They will meet new friends, hear new ideas, and start their own lives.  For now, Emily and I get the chance to pour into their lives, and I want to soak up every second I've got.  Because I can hear the quiet house waiting for me in 14 years.  And it will be too late then.  Parents, how many years do you have left?  It. Will. Fly.  By.  Invest, influence, and teach.  Use every second.