Quotable

Today I started reading the biography of William and Catherine Booth, founders of the Salvation Army. Here's a quotable that appears at the beginning of the forward. I had to post this because it's so timely for where I am in my life.

"A vision without a task makes a visionary;
A task without a vision makes for drudgery;
A task wedded to a vision makes a missionary."
-LEONARD RAVENHILL

That's in the Bible?

Tasha's sister and her family live just north of Washington, D.C. We're here for a few days celebrating Christmas with them. Tasha's parents flew in from Colorado Springs to be here as well. Tasha's brother, a student at Reformed Theological Seminary in Orlando, and his wife are on their way. It's been awesome so far. Simply craziness - 3 toddlers and a kindergartner running around like maniacs - cartoons and movies going 24/7 - cheerios all over the kitchen floor - plastic swords swinging - well, you get the picture. But we love it.

These kids love stories. They love kids' books and movies. Cars has been a big hit this week. Big kids, like moms and dads, love stories too. Stories connect with the emotions of human beings. That's why when a preacher is rambling on about some abstract weirdness he loses his audience. But as soon as he begins to tell a story, his audience tunes back in. They reconnect.

Stories do that. Stories reach us on a level that abstract ideas cannot penetrate. And I think that's because the whole redemptive plan of God is one big story. Creation - the Fall - Christ's sacrifice to redeem us - His return someday. And somehow we fit in that story. Our lives are a part of God's story.

Jesus understood that stories connect with people. So, he taught in parables. But I realized something today as I was reading through Ezekiel that hadn't dawned on me before. God taught in parables before Jesus ever did. And He used his prophets as a mouthpiece for his parables.

I read one of God's parables this morning that was really convicting. It's one of those graphic stories that make you say, "Wow, that's in the Bible?" There's a lot of those. Especially in the Old Testament.

Alex, my six year old nephew, is reading stories from the Old Testament each night with his Mom out of the new Children's Adventure Bible he got for Christmas. One thing you should know about Alex is that he loves anything to do with Army men, battles, swords, or killing. Well, the other night they began to read through the book of Judges. To Alex's utter amazement and joy, he realized that Judges is full of the violent yet heroic stories that move his heart so much. The kind of stories that the average children's Sunday School teacher would gloss over.

So, I read one of them this morning, that did more than make me blush or squirm. It convicted me. It took root in my heart. And I want to write it out in detail so you can feel what I felt. But be forewarned of it's graphic nature. This is how God felt when his bride, Israel, left him for another man. Or other men, I should say. I tried to read it by imagining myself as the guilty party, because I know how my heart is. I know how my heart is bent toward sin and how it strays from God, my firstlove.

Ezekiel 16 (The Message)

1-3 God's Message came to me: "Son of man, confront Jerusalem with her outrageous violations. Say this: 'The Message of God, the Master, to Jerusalem: You were born and bred among Canaanites. Your father was an Amorite and your mother a Hittite.

4-5 "'On the day you were born your umbilical cord was not cut, you weren't bathed and cleaned up, you weren't rubbed with salt, you weren't wrapped in a baby blanket. No one cared a fig for you. No one did one thing to care for you tenderly in these ways. You were thrown out into a vacant lot and left there, dirty and unwashed—a newborn nobody wanted.

6-7 "'And then I came by. I saw you all miserable and bloody. Yes, I said to you, lying there helpless and filthy, "Live! Grow up like a plant in the field!" And you did. You grew up. You grew tall and matured as a woman, full-breasted, with flowing hair. But you were naked and vulnerable, fragile and exposed.

8-14 "'I came by again and saw you, saw that you were ready for love and a lover. I took care of you, dressed you and protected you. I promised you my love and entered the covenant of marriage with you. I, God, the Master, gave my word. You became mine. I gave you a good bath, washing off all that old blood, and anointed you with aromatic oils. I dressed you in a colorful gown and put leather sandals on your feet. I gave you linen blouses and a fashionable wardrobe of expensive clothing. I adorned you with jewelry: I placed bracelets on your wrists, fitted you out with a necklace, emerald rings, sapphire earrings, and a diamond tiara. You were provided with everything precious and beautiful: with exquisite clothes and elegant food, garnished with honey and oil. You were absolutely stunning. You were a queen! You became world-famous, a legendary beauty brought to perfection by my adornments. Decree of God, the Master.

15-16 "'But your beauty went to your head and you became a common whore, grabbing anyone coming down the street and taking him into your bed. You took your fine dresses and made "tents" of them, using them as brothels in which you practiced your trade. This kind of thing should never happen, never.

What a Sick Soul!

17-19 "'And then you took all that fine jewelry I gave you, my gold and my silver, and made pornographic images of them for your brothels. You decorated your beds with fashionable silks and cottons, and perfumed them with my aromatic oils and incense. And then you set out the wonderful foods I provided—the fresh breads and fruits, with fine herbs and spices, which were my gifts to you—and you served them as delicacies in your whorehouses. That's what happened, says God, the Master.

25-27 "'And then you went international with your whoring. You fornicated with the Egyptians, seeking them out in their sex orgies. The more promiscuous you became, the angrier I got. Finally, I intervened, reduced your borders and turned you over to the rapacity of your enemies. Even the Philistine women—can you believe it?—were shocked at your sluttish life.

28-29 "'You went on to fornicate with the Assyrians. Your appetite was insatiable. But still you weren't satisfied. You took on the Babylonians, a country of businessmen, and still you weren't satisfied.

30-31 "'What a sick soul! Doing all this stuff—the champion whore! You built your bold brothels at every major intersection, opened up your whorehouses in every neighborhood, but you were different from regular whores in that you wouldn't accept a fee.

Two Words: Solidarity and fidelity. Two words that have reattached themselves to my heart and have undergone a rebirth of meaning to me as I applied this passage to my own life.

Yep, that's in the Bible!

Official Site

Well, it's finally here: joshandtashavia.com
We're stoked about it. This new direction and ministry that the Lord is leading our family is going to be amazing!! Thanks to all of you who have been praying for us as we make this leap. And a big thanks to Smooth Web Development for the excellent work on the site. Let's keep moving forward!

Pure Volume

Hey, we're officially Pure Volume members. You can check out all of our songs and download many of them for free. Merry Christmas to all, and to all good listening.

The Godliest Man I Know

There's a man I know who walks with Jesus closer than anyone else I know.
Here's a quick laundry list of why I know that:

This man was a pastor for 13 years who consistently preached the Bible as God's infallible Word and lived out what he preached at home. For him, there was no disconnect from the pulpit to the home.

After pastoring, this man began a worldwide ministry which continues to this day reaching thousands of souls for Christ around the world each year.

This man spends hours a day in constant communication with the Lord, journaling his thoughts and prayers to His loving Father.

This man devours God's Word with the passion of someone dying of starvation. It is his lifesource. He eats and breathes the Word of God.

This man carefully weighs his every thought, word and action as one ever-aware of a watching Heavenly Father who is involved in the intimate details of such mundane activities of life such as eating, breathing, talking and listening.

This man loves his family more than his own life. He would die for his family. Truly.
He loves his wife. He adores and honors her as Christ loves His own bride.
He loves his children. He supports them in life-changing decisions like careers and marriages.
And he walks with them through not-so huge problems like pimples and hair color.
And if his family is mistreated or attacked, this man has the backbone of a stegasaurus to stand up for them with no regard for his own reputation.

This man walks consistently in the humility of Christ. He embodies Philippians 2:5-11. Never have I heard him boast of personal accomplishments or successses. Never have I heard him respond in anger, jealousy, or pride toward any person or situation. Never have I heard him react to negative situations in a negative way.

This man takes seriously the commission of Christ to reach the world. If cars never existed and there were no living soul within a 100-mile radius, he would share his faith with a tree. If there were no trees around, he would share with the grass, or hills. If he still had no success, he would put on his running shoes and begin the 100-mile journey. He is passionate about taking as many people to heaven with him as he can.

This man is my best friend.

This man is my hero.

This man is my dad.

Under the Tree

I've never written a Christmas song until now. And I've especially even more never written a Christmas song for my wife until now (long days necessitate bad grammar). So, here's a first. And another first. It's called Under the Tree. Enjoy! Let me know what you think. Merry Christmas!

Pleasantries Aside

It’s probably happened to you. You sit down for a meal at a nice restaurant and order your food. As you tell your server what you would like, you point to the picture of the delicious looking delicacy while you simultaneously tell him or her the name of the special treat. However, what you don't realize is, the title of your meal does not correspond to the picture that you see. You’ve misaligned the two. It’s happened to me numerous times. And when the food finally comes, you think, “This is no where near what I ordered. It looks nothing like the picture.”

I think the Christian life is like this many times. We have this picture in our minds of what we think it should look like. We get this image in our heads of the road that we want to be on. And when our order is brought out, it looks nothing like what we imagined. So, we’re faced with two options when we’re served this meal. 1. Eat it – brace ourselves like a man, and go down the road that the Lord has sovereignly laid before us; 2. Try to return it – but we can’t. And in trying to do so, we miss out on all that the Lord has for us on this road.

I’ve written a song about this called Pleasantries Aside. I just posted it on our myspace. The chorus is taken from Jeremiah 41:6. Background: Who? The remnant of Israel that was left after the Babylonians came in and ushered most of them up to Babylon. What? They tell Jeremiah to intercede for them to the Lord and get His direction. In so doing, here’s what they say:

“Whether it is pleasant or unpleasant, we will obey the voice of the Lord our God to whom we are sending you so that it may go well with us.”

Sure sounds sincere. But just a few verses later, we find our remnant arguing with Jeremiah about what the Lord told them to do. So, they decide they don’t like the road that the Lord is leading them down. And they try to return it. But they can’t. So, they just go on living in sin, doubt, rejection, and fear.

The verse of the song says:

“You caught me by surprise. When I opened up my eyes, You were standing there. But my mind went straight to ‘fair’. Cause it’s not the road I chose, but I guess I’m not the one who knows.”

If we could just stop for one minute and not focus on our situation, but focus on the God of our situation, we’ll see that He’s been there all along. And it’s not about fairness as we measure it, it’s about God’s sovereign hand moving and working in our lives to bring us down the road that He has marked out. Or to bring us a meal that we didn’t know we ordered. Either one.

Silver Buffaloes

We think Zeke might be getting his first tooth. Areyna said her first prayer the other day ("Jeejuh, ruv roo"). Translation: "Jesus, I love you." Zeke is starting to jump a little bit in his Johnny Jumper, rather than just sit there. Rainy is learning a few Spanish words and officially knows more Spanish than me and Tasha put together. It's not hard for me to rejoice over my kids when they accomplish these kinds of things. It's pretty easy actually. It comes naturally, I think, to take great joy in our kids when they accomplish great things.

But it gets harder when these things happen: When Zeke screams and cries the entire six-hour trip from Charlotte to Roanoke the night before Thanksgiving. When Rainy has an all-out meltdown because her parents refuse to allow her bear to accompany them into a department store because if they were to lose him they'd be screwed. When Zeke projectile vomits on his dad who's freshly dressed and ready to walk out the door. When Rainy fights tooth and nail refusing to eat her dinner, thinking that the kitchen floor would enjoy it more.

I can continue to love my kids even when they resemble the spawn of Satan. I love them no matter what. But to rejoice over them after they've acted like they belong in a circus freak show is another matter. I mean, are you kidding me? I don't take joy in their lunacy. But God does.

I'm reading through the book of Jeremiah right now and I was convicted this morning as I read of the delight that God takes in His children - even after they'd acted like complete idiots. Worse than that - after they'd flipped Him the bird and worshiped foreign gods, sacrificing their children in the fire to the god Molech. That's depravity! But God said in Jeremiah 32:41, "I will rejoice over them to do what is good to them, and I will plant them faithfully in this land with all My mind and heart."

Unbelievable! You should read the whole passage to feel the weight of these words juxtoposed with the hellacious actions of God's people, Israel. It's not like God's children had just graduated with honors from college. They didn't just win the Nobel Peace Prize. They didn't receive the Silver Buffalo award for noteworthy and extraordinary service. They had done nothing worthy of praise. They had done nothing worthy of rejoicing. Yet, God said that He was rejoicing over them to do what is good to them. To me, that's incomprehensible. To me, they deserve God's wrath (which they did get, by the way. Read the passage). But, His wrath is a means to an end - to bring us back to the place where He can rejoice over us.

But we are programmed to think differently.

We reward excellence. We reward perfection. We rejoice over accomplishments. But not God.

He rejoices over imperfect children. He takes joy in flawed people. He smiles over joyless souls. He wraps His love around hateful beings. He plants faithfully in the land faithless and rootless creatures made in His image. And He does it with all of His mind and heart.

Hmm... maybe I have some work to do in rejoicing over my own children.

Despise Apathy

This image is on our desktop right now. Everytime I sit down to the computer and jerk the mouse to wake it up, this image bursts into my sight creating this overwhelming sense of joy and happiness. Sadness has to flee when I see my boy smiling ear to ear at me. I love my kids. I love my wife. They keep me going.

Sure I find my purpose and my reason in Christ. But my wife and my kids give clarity and direction to that purpose.

Is it scary, knowing that they look up to me as their leader, as their spiritual guide? Absolutely! Does it make me want to cower in fear, afraid that I may mess up or make a mistake that my kids might emulate? Of course. But do I stop pushing forward because I might fail? No. So, what if I step out in courage to be a leader and a provider for my family and it ends in failure? Here's what I learned from Gary Thomas, a godly dad and writer, in Sacred Parenting:

"Courage doesn't always get rewarded with success . . . For the sake of the kingdom, we have to despise apathy more than we fear failure. I don't know of a single activist who hasn't embarassed himself or herself by at least one instance of a serious lack of judgment or restraint. But their occasional failure looks glorious compared to the deafening silence of the masses who, out of fear, never leave their spiritual beds."

That's what I plan to do. Despise apathy more than I fear failure. Get out of my spiritual bed every morning. Do something.

We can't sit around. As parents, as employees, as godly men and women in a depraved culture, we must not be afraid to move forward even if it means the occasional failure. And I'm thankful that in that propulsion, my family helps to bring clarity.

Shadows on Stones

Dawn strikes a new beginning
The sun preaches grace through its rays
As shadows cross, time keeps winning
But the timeless beat of my soul is praise

When the sun sinks below horizons red
The blackness of night blows its breath
And the inclination of my heart is to hide in dread
But it's then that the Son of Man appears again
in that valley of the shadow of death

And He proclaims victory and freedom to the prisoner and captive
He breathes life into dead men's bones and wet clay
This body He turns into a temple where His glory can live
And His commission resonates in these stones. "Lord, haste the day!" -josh

1-90

I love Thanksgiving. And I love when we pack our house here in Roanoke, Virginia so full of people that you can't think straight. This year we had about 26 adults and 10 kids. Suddenly, I'm not the kid anymore. But I did still get to do some kids things. Like run through the woods at dusk crunching leaves like a bad guy and scaring the kids. Fun stuff.

This whole weekend is pretty special actually. We celebrated 2 birthdays. The first birthday- Ella Hambrick. She turned 1. Ella's parents are good friends of mine from childhood- Jeremiah and Jennifer Hambrick. Jeremiah lived with my family during college while his parents were missionaries in Venezuela. He's an awesome friend.

The second birthday- Mayo Adams. He turned 90. Mayo is my great uncle on my dad's side. He's the model American hero. He flew a B-17 in WWII, was shot up many times, and was wounded in his 8th mission over Bremen. He loves Jesus with all of his heart. He and his wife, May, were never able to have kids, so me and my siblings are kind of like their adopted grandkids. I love them both dearly. I hope I'm still as mentally sharp, physically in shape, and spiritually shining when I'm his age.

The icing on the cake for this weekend definitely happens on Sunday night. I'm getting ordained into the gospel ministry. I'm stoked. It will take place at me and Tasha's home church in Henderson, NC, New Sandy Creek Baptist Church. And the best part about it is the fact that my dad, who is my life hero and mentor, will be performing the service. And a bunch of my good friends in ministry who have had a great impact on my life will be there as well to witness and attest to God's call on my life.

I'm not a crier. I will confess that I cracked a few tears during "United Flight 93," and "The Notebook." And I definitely cried at my wedding (tears of joy, to be sure). But overall I don't cry. However, I think I will on Sunday night. As I think about how good God has been to me. To have the kind of legacy that I have modeled from my father as he has faithfully lived out his faith in the pulpit and in the home, is humbling. To have the legacy of my mother who faithfully raised her children to love Jesus and taught us silly songs to remember God's truth, is overwhelming. So, yea, if I think about all those things, I'll cry. Because I'm grateful to the Lord for this heritage.

This is a weekend where we celebrate the Life-giver. Whether you're 1, 90, or somewhere in between like me, God has a beautiful canvass painting of your life in which He's waiting to add the first brush strokes or the final strokes. Either way, He's a perfect artist whose work is beautiful.

"Lord, (my) days are determined;
you have decreed the number of (my) months
and have set limits (I) cannot exceed."
Job 14:5

An 'Out of My Head' Week

Wow! So it's been a while since I've been able to post. Many of you know that I got pretty sick this past week. Turns out I had encephalitis (?), a virus that affects the brain and causes problems with normal motor skills. Some of you saw first hand last Sunday morning when I tried to lead worship but was having trouble making sense of anything. It was quite comical looking back on it. I don't remember much of it, but for example, Tasha said I tried to plug my instrument cables straight into the stage. Nice. I was also saying crazy things and talking out of my head.

Tasha said that when the paramedics came to our house Sunday afternoon they asked me whether I had any blurred vision and my response was as follows. First, I stared blankly at the guy as if he were mad and speaking incoherent rubbish. Second, I decided to respond and test his wits by saying, "Well, nothing else I can think of, except the makeup thing." Hmm.... not sure what that was all about. I think I know alot more about makeup than I realized. And when Tasha and I were walking down to the ER room, she told me that I began to tell her how we'd see Beth Moore at the judgment. I'm sure the Lord was speaking prophetically through me. Someone needed it. I'm sure of it. So, needless to say it was an interesting week, and the worst is over.

But I do want to say thanks to all of you who prayed for us during this time. We could defintely sense your prayers and the power of God working through them. Thanks to all of you for loving us. Hopefully, I'll be able to post pretty soon some of the things that God has shown me through this time, both serious and funny. Because if you saw me in action this week, you'd know that God definitely has a sense of humor.

The Family You Know

"Spend some time with the family you know" said a commerial I saw tonight advertising for The Sopranos, an HBO grammy award-winning drama. Maybe you saw the commercial as you watched football tonight. In an outright blatant slam against the traditional family, this commercial claims that you, the viewer, know the Soprano family better than your own and encourages you to continue in that endeavor. Sadly, that may be the case for the average viewer. I'm thankful to say that it's not for me.

You know, I'm still trying to figure out this whole blog thing. Because I think that most bloggers (and I can't say that I'm not guilty of this from time to time) feel that they finally have a platform for spewing incoherent verbage and waxing philosophical in a forum that just may get read. But as I sat in the living room tonight watching football with my wife and kids and eating week old popcorn with Areyna (she takes awhile to finish a bag), and thanking God for a beautiful day of worship, I couldn't help but think to myself that this is what really matters in my life. Enjoying my family as a priceless gift from God. And that's when I realized that that's what I want to write about. Those are the stories that matter to me.

And who cares if no one reads. I'll enjoy writing about and basking in the victories of my kids as they say new words and learn about life and God. As Zeke learns to blow bubbles with his saliva and Rainy learns to square dance with her bear. And I'll enjoy dating my wife and spending time together, even if that means a free date between Sunday services at Starbucks (thanks for the Frappachino's Tom). And I'll always spend time with the family that I know. And that's not the Soprano family. And I'll let this tragic situation with Ted Haggard be a sobering reminder to me about what really matters in my life, and that's purity. I'll let it bring me to my knees daily knowing that I'm no less susceptible to moral failure than he was; save for the grace of God.

Charlie Brown's Teacher

Today I'm teaching a bunch of wild 6th graders Language Arts and Social Studies. And I'm realizing really quickly that homeschooling is the way to go. I've been blabbing my mouth for 5 hours and I don't think they've heard a word I've said. I must sound like Charlie Brown's teacher to them. I've written things on the board that they have no intention of reading (Boy do I have great white board penmanship. Too bad no one cares). I think I could literally write the statement, "You may all immediately run out of this classroom and break something in the hall and get an automatic A just for doing so" and no one would do it. Because they're not reading it.

And I realize how God must feel when He steps into the classroom of my life and tries to teach me things. He must wonder why He repeats Himself over and over again when He knows that I have no intention of really learning. Because I'm too distracted with Leon's big orange eraser across the room. And He must wonder why He wrote things down in His book when He knows that I have no real intention of reading it. Because I'm too distracted with the love letter from 2nd period that's been passed around the whole 6th grade class.

I wonder if God ever wonders why He wrote such a beautiful love letter to his children when they would rather read a cheap imitation. I wonder if He ever stands at the white board staring at His perfected formula He has just written entitled, "How to Have Real Abundant Life" wondering why absolutely no eyes have picked up on this. Wondering why no single student has taken him up on his offer for an automatic A.

May I muse no longer. Instead, may I simply learn to read God's whiteboard and act on it. "Lord, make me a good student because you're a pretty awesome Teacher."

My Reading List

Here's a short reading list of books that have all been a huge benefit to me recently in my walk with Christ. In parentheses is my basic summary. Check them out.

-Chasing Daylight by Erwin McManus (Making every moment count)
-Shepherding a Child's Heart by Tedd Tripp (Parenting begins with the heart)
-I Am Not But I Know I Am by Louie Giglio (Our identity in Christ)
-Celebrating the Wrath of God by Jim McGuiggan (Pain and Suffering vs. A God of Love)
-In a Pit with a Lion on a Snowy Day by Mark Batterson (Sometimes your opportunities are situations you normally run from)
-The Circle Trilogy by Ted Dekker (Kick-butt awesome novels in the vein of C. S. Lewis)
-Visioneering by Andy Stanley (Getting a God-ordained vision for your life)

Happy Reading!

Dress Your Horse

"A horse is prepared for the day of battle, but victory comes from the Lord" (Proverbs 21:30).

This verse has been mulling around in my mind for almost a week now. I'll tell you why.

At our church, our staff strives for perfection. And WE MAKE NO APOLOGIES FOR IT. We want the weekend worship experience to be so phenomenal that people leave thinking that they just met with God at a U2 concert. And we prepare, and we rehearse, and we prepare and we rehearse some more. Because we think God deserves our best.

But I think, in Christian circles in general, there's always one bad nugget that comes with the value meal of our humanity- and that's the tendency to make this "striving for excellence" the end in itself. Without warning, all our preparation can become the all-consuming passion. Our pursuit of excellence becomes the pursuit of our heart. And the final goal is the performance itself. See, this is backwards. But I think it often goes unrealized. Instead, the all-consuming passion must be the God to whom deserves our excellence, and the pursuit of our heart must be to pursue Him, and the final goal must be -- Him. And I think our church understands this. And I think that's why this verse resonates with me so much.

We are in a battle. We're in a battle for the souls of men and women who are on their way to an eternity in Hell. We're in a battle for the minds of our students who think that being a Christian is being like Jessica Simpson. God help us. So, we've got to suit up. We've got to get our horse ready for battle. So, we dress him. And we dress him nice. And we dress him with the stinkin' best armor that we've got. Because he's not just any old horse. He's a horse riding in God's army. He's a freakin' stallion that will strike fear into the enemy and muster courage among his comrades.

We dress him and then we, what? Do our best? Fight more and talk less? Get out there and just swing at something? No. We prepare our horse, and then we get out of the way. We get out of the way and let God have His victory. Because the victory belongs to Him. I think Christians forget that.

This morning I was teaching a 1st grade class, and I decided to try one of those random question polls on them that usually elicit funny responses. I wasn't disappointed. So I asked them, "What comes to your mind when you hear the word 'victory'?" Caroline, who is 6, said, "I don't know why but it makes me think of sometime later." Hmm... While I was still wondering what came earlier, I asked Seth, who is also 6. He said, "You're strong!" I was grateful. Erin, who qualified her age by an extra six months, said, "I think of life when I hear that." Diego, wanting to be done with me quickly and to get back to his math game, said, "Me too." Interesting answers from 6 year olds.

You know what victory is? It's at the end of the day knowing that the Gospel was preached, lives were radically altered for eternity's sake, Jesus was lifted up, the devil was straight kicked in the jaw, and the unbeliever among us left saying, "Wow! Surely God is in their midst!" (1 Corinthians 14:23-25)

So, let's dress our horse and get out of God's path of victory.

In Jesus' Name, Meow

"It's not in my job description." We've all heard this quoted in movies and in real life. I've noticed in my short one and a half years of parenting, this phrase has all too often become a mantra shouted from the rooftops. "I don't do diapers with raisins or corn!" "I don't do 3 am!" "It's not in my job description to do ________." Fill in the blank. But I'm learning. I'm slow, but I'm trying. This morning, such an instance reared it's head.

One of the many things that Christian marriage and family classes and books fail to tell you is that during your personal Bible study and time with God, you will be interrupted on a frequent basis. NO exceptions. As I was drinking my coffee this morning and trying to spend time with the Lord, Areyna decided that she needed some of my time as well. She lets me know this by dropping subtle hints. She climbs on me like she's scaling Mt. Everest, and apparently my face makes for a great foothold.

As I'm making out about every fourth word of Colossians 4, straining to see through Areyna's extremities, I finally catch the hint. So, I put down my books and crawl down to her level in her play corner in the living room. She climbs in my lap and proceeds to hand me her A-Z animal book, declaring "meow" every time I turn the page.

It's then that I begin to explain to her that daddy has more important things to do like exegeting Colossians 4 so that I can learn how to be a better father to her.

No, of course I didn't do that. I looked into her beautiful eyes and thought to myself, "This is it. This is time with God. This simple act of playing and communicating with my daughter on her level is a means to access with God that no hermeneutics class can teach you."

Amazing! I found fellowship with Christ by reading animal books to my daughter. I love being a father and I love being a follower of Christ.

Nice Landscaping vs. Real Human Beings

Last week I came across an article on Foxnews.com about a "baptist" woman who says "God hates fags." My blood began to boil as I read and then watched the video archive. She ranted to Hannity and Combs about how God caused 911 because his judgment was being poured out on America for its consent to homosexuality. I was stunned to watch her sit there and twist Scripture and fashion God into a giant emotionless mass of uncontrollable wrath (I'm holding my tongue so I don't sound like her).

This whole week I've sat on it, wondering what to do with it. Then, last night I read chapter 19, "The God Who Loves Without Limits" in Celebrating the Wrath of God by Jim McGuiggan. He nailed it.

Warning: This may get lengthy because it's so poignant. He said,

"Ironically, those who have made a stone-hearted God in their own image have a theology similar to Nietzsche's philosophy (the death of God and the "superhuman") . . . Those who read their Bible, obsessed with the sins and failures of others, can only gravitate to the darker passages. Stringing them together like beads on a string, they distort the grand drift of Scripture."

He continues,

"Human sinfulness obliterates, for them, the wonder of humans; it obliterates the astonishing nature of a man or woman, a boy or girl. People who have made God in their image ooh and aah over a lovely landscape and turn up their noses at a human who doesn't share their theology. . . They miss the fact that God really does love sinners. God doesn't love people because we're good; he loves people because he made us. But it isn't true that he loves simply because we exist. We exist because he loves us."

Wow. God forbid that I should ever see Him more in a manicured lawn than I do in a beautiful human being who is made and fashioned in His very likeness and image. Saved or unsaved. Gay or straight. Obese or fit. Does God love sinners? Absolutely. Does He hate sin? Absolutely. Are those two notions contradictory? Absolutely NOT.

A few years ago in my college chapel, the speaker actually interpreted the parable of the prodigal son as praising the son who remained home with his father. With much enthusiasm, he prodded my colleagues by exulting, "Let's hear it for the son who stayed home!"

He missed the point. God rejoices when one sinner repents. He loves sinners. He hates sin. There's no contradiction.

I'm In

26 Now the mighty men of the armies were Asahel the brother of Joab, Elhanan the son of Dodo of Bethlehem, . . . 46 Eliel the Mahavite and Jeribai and Joshaviah, the sons of Elnaam.

1 Chronicles 11:26, 46

Sweet!

Climbing Ant Hills

I love being a dad. When I got home today I found my sweet little family outside in the backyard playing in the sandbox. Well, they weren't all in the sandbox. Tasha was reading and watching Rainy play in the sandbox. But it would have been funny to see Tasha in the sandbox, seeing as it is barely big enough for Areyna. Anyway, once Rainy had had her fill of sand (literally, because she enjoys eating it) we proceeded to play the hill game. To bring you into our circle, the hill game is simply a game where Areyna climbs to the top of the hill in our backyard (although it resembles more of an anthill on steroids) and then proceeds to run down it with arms flailing and mouth open into the arms of her waiting dad at the bottom. From there, the two contestants embrace and the game begins all over again until little Rainy collapses from exhaustion, if her dad hasn't already collapsed first.

Not from exhaustion, but rather from maintaing a squatting position for long periods of time, wherein the knee joints begin screaming for 10 bottles of glucosamine.

Moving on. During one of her hikes to the top, Areyna became unsurprisingly distracted. She heard the neighbor's dog barking. See, because her little 18 month old mind has not learned the art of tuning out unwanted noises, whenever there is a dog barking within a 30-mile radius, she takes notice. She then begins to indulge the unsuspecting dog in conversation.

Such was the scenario today. She found the barking dog far more interesting than her loving dad with arms held ridiculously wide for incredulous amounts of time waiting at the bottom of Mt. Speed Bump. But for little Rainy, another game was beginning at the top.

And in that moment, the Lord spoke to me.

He said, "Josh, why is it that many of the times that I stand with open arms waiting to embrace you and enjoy life together, you run off, discard the romance, and follow the noises and distractions in your messed-up world. Why do you run away, as if the game is somewhere else? Why do you run, as if life is happening somewhere else? Why do you run when all I want to do is hold you and embrace you and encourage you in your climb to the top of the next mountain? And celebrate with you in your sprint down again into my arms."

"Could you not put off those distractions for one minute and run back into my arms? Could you not keep your eyes on me throughout this journey that, at times, contains struggles that seem bigger than they are? It's an ant hill for crying out loud. I made it. I made you. I want to embrace you." And so I patiently called for Rainy. And she ran to me again. And we hugged.
And we did it all over again.

You can learn alot from kids. I love being a dad.

Lucy's Daughter Makes me Laugh

I'm literally at my keyboard rolling on the floor. It's hard to do that and type. I just read a rousing article about a breakthrough find of "the most ancient child ever discovered" being "no more than three years old when she died about 3.3 million years ago."1
Words escape me. According to the article "she belongs to the primitive human species known as Australopithecus afarensis and has been dubbed Lucy's daughter, after the iconic fossil of an adult female from the same group discovered in 1974" and "confirms the accepted view that Lucy and her clan walked upright."2 Amazing! I'm so glad we know who our ancestors really are now. My family tree is complete. Do these people actually remember the real find behind Lucy. Answers in Genesis reminds us, "According to Richard Leakey, who along with Johanson is probably the best-known fossil-anthropologist in the world, Lucy’s skull is so incomplete that most of it is ‘imagination made of plaster of paris’."3 Nice. That's concrete evidence if I've ever seen it.
But here's the real dagger in the chest that just shatters my faith. According to scientists, "the child, most probably a female, and also called the Dikika girl, appeared to have been buried quickly by sediment during a flood, soon after she died."4 Hmm... sounds kinda familiar. I wonder what kind of cataclysmic flood could have buried a human being alive in seconds?
Yea, she makes me laugh. I think I kinda look like her picture.

You Smell

It's a scientific fact that we smell like the things with which we keep company. At least, if it's not it should be. Every lost traveler who has ever stopped in at the Quickie Mart for directions knows this is true. Every Starbucks morning junkie will tell you this is a fact. Well, if they don't, their friends can tell you. What denotes the worthiness of each smell though?

To some the Starbucks smell ranks right up there with the local landfill and the Quickie Mart next to God's bakery. The first few times I went to Uganda, Africa, I came really close to vomiting because the smells were so potent. It was the smell of 50 Ugandans crammed with me in a 12 passenger van, all of whom had probably never used deoderant, not because they didn't want to, but because it would require about a week's worth of pay. But this last time that I traveled there, something changed in my perception of the stench. Because my heart was finally in tune with their drive.

Being in a van with stinky Ugandans whose hearts are totally devoted to Jesus Christ and who have given their lives to His kingdom work in spite of political unrest, economic disaster and religious persecution changes the way you smell things.

I love how Paul put it in 2 Corinthians 2:14-16, "But thanks be to God who always puts us on display in Christ and spreads through us in every place the scent of knowing Him. For to God we are the fragrance of Christ among those who are perishing. To some we are a scent of death leading to death, but to others, a scent of life leading to life."

Why does the world so often hate us as followers of Christ when we carry the very scent of Christ? Because they don't understand that smell. To them it is a stench worthy of nothing more than to be thrown out with filth and rotting vermin. BUT, to the 3000 souls that come to Christ every summer in Uganda, Africa with my dad's ministry, they are "a scent of life, leading to life."
.josh.

Failure to Choose is a Choice

This week we have been on vacation with my family, the Vias. Our annual tradition is to spend a week with the entire Via family at Smith Mountain Lake in Virginia. This year, we rented a house with direct access to the lake as usual, only with four grand babies in the picture (our Areyna and Ezekiel, Jonathan and Kelly's Cana, and Jeremiah and Jenn's Ella) the house had to be ginormous. (Of course ginormous is a real word. I make up real words all the time). Indeed, it was. A room for every married couple. We like it that way.

Over the years I've come to realize that the key to surviving a Via family vacation consists of two things. One, you definitely need a good pair of goggles for treasure hunting under boat docks. Without this essential ingredient, your vacation will have been found wanting. And two, unquestionably you need butt loads of food.

Without failing, every year it seems that the junk food outweighs the real food 3 to 1. And I don't think that's an exaggeration. Nor do I think it is any less consistent with the growing trend of the majority of the American population. We Vias are just doing our part to keep these statistics accurate. Regardless, junk food dominates on our vacations.

As I was reading Scripture one morning this week I came across an interesting verse in 2 Chronicles. Yea, I know what you're thinking - the boring book with all the hard to pronounce names. Well, I guess I'm just a boring guy, but believe it or not as I was reading through it I found some extremely not-so-boring stuff. Chapter 12 talks about a king named Rehoboam who was supposed to be a godly guy, but, well, wasn't. Verse 14 says, Rehoboam did what was evil, because he did not determine in his heart to seek the Lord.

Did you see it? As soon as I read that verse, it was like fireworks going off inside of me. I finally realized what the problem is with most of my generation who call themselves Christians but live like hell. The state we find ourselves in is exactly where Rehoboam found himself. It's the state of non-determination. Too often, many of us have never determined in our hearts to seek the Lord. We don't usually wake up one day and decide to live our lives in contradistinction to God. We often don't make a conscious decision to live like hell, but in our failure to determine in our hearts to choose to seek the Lord, that's exactly what happens.

We are the Rehoboam generation. We are people who think that we can get by with never making a conscious decision to follow Christ with everything that is in us. So, in our failure to choose, we essentially choose evil. There's no middle ground.

Remember the junk food at the Via vacations? Most of the time, I don't have to think about eating junk food when I'm on vacation. You know what? It just happens. It happens because it's there and it's there in abundance. You know what would have to happen for me not to eat junk food on vacation? One of two things. First, I would either have to starve myself (of which the probabilities of this happening are about as certain as the probabilities of Madonna becoming a nun). Or second, I would have to make a conscious choice to eat the right kinds of foods. UREEEEKA! (Thank you Nintendo's Duck Tales). I could determine in my heart to eat right. I could determine in my soul to choose watermelon over ho-hos. I could determine in the deepest darkest bowels of my heart of hearts to choose a peach over a box of cheese nips. But, if I choose not to choose the right food, guess what? Junk food happens. Thats just the way it is.

Now, this is what has happened to our generation of choose nots. We think that by not determining in our hearts to seek the Lord, we can play it safe in the middle ground. But, there is no middle ground. There is no safe zone. By not choosing God, we choose evil. By not determining to follow God, we follow evil. By failing to choose Christ, we choose the enemy.

"The focus of your objective, therefore, is to be purified so that it is concentrated and right, and is to be directed toward Me (God), despite all the various circumstances that may come between you and your objective." - Thomas à Kempis, The Imitation of Christ.