The Beauty in the Spark

Songs can capture exactly how you feel at that given moment and when they do it's quite poignant. . . and sometimes they catch you completely by surprise.

This happened to me about a month ago. The song was Joy by British singer Tracey Thorn. I had just gone to see about a job and even though I had, for all intents and purposes, gotten the position, I was more discouraged than I had been in awhile. When you get disappointed so many times, you get so tired of that feeling you truly feel like nothing will EVER work out for you!

My spirit was crushed with sadness and I didn't really even know why. What I did know was I needed God to meet me in that place of deep hurt and just hold me. . . and He did so through this song. There were two lines that struck me with all the subtlety of a tornado.

You loved it as a kid/now, you need it more than you ever did/ and it's because of the dark/you see the beauty in the spark. Those words touched my soul and gave my spirit, bruised and beaten up, a much-needed hug.

See I needed that same type of joy and wonderment I had as a child and I was asking God to restore those feelings in my heart. . . a pure heart that has been broken many times over and let cynicism slowly begin to seap in. When you are going through adverse times, in the midst of the intense heat of the Refiner's fire, any good thing is amplified a million times over. For me, the prospects of full-time employment and this song were two sparks in an extremely dark time.

I listened to Thorn's song over and over and over and sobbed, uncontrollably at times, pouring my heart out to God. On my knees, pounding the ground and shouting out begging Him to come through for me! I just told Him what I needed and, although He already knew it, how I felt. When I calmed down and regained my composure, I decided I would try to find her on Twitter. I did and I wrote her. Although she has over 40,000 followers, I wrote her. Strangely enough, to some, I had no doubt she would write me back.

I told her how God has truly touched her voice and how deeply her song Joy had touched me and what it now means to me, making sure she knew few songs had ever had that strong of an effect on me. I let her know I was praying for her and hoped she had a blessed Christmas. I did hear back from her and she informed me she is a complete atheist. While some people would've been discouraged hearing such news . . . it only made me praise God that much more!

Only He could use someone, who doesn't even believe in Him, to reach and encourage one of His followers! That was really profound to me. God is SO BIG and filled with wisdom He may even show this talented singer, one day, how He was with her even when she had no faith-- who knows!

The Lord heard my cries. He caught every single tear I cried that night and over the past few months. I worshiped Him, sometimes reluctantly, but I worshiped nonetheless. I talked to Him and I listened to what He was teaching me. He rewarded my obedience. He rewarded my heart, because He is ALWAYS faithful! Just when I had gotten to the point I couldn't take ANY more . . . He delivered!

Was the tunnel dark? Was it scary? Yes it was, but on the other side I'm experiencing a brilliant Light that makes me forget just how dark it was and that . . . that's a BEAUTIFUL feeling! My big sister, who is like a second Mom to me, said, "I'm just so happy to have my Bubbi back." My response was, "Me too."

When you've survived a crushing blow, one the devil hoped would destroy you, you bounce back stronger, wiser and more resilient than ever. The flames did not consume you~ they forged you! And since the fourth man in the flames protected you and guided you through the Valley of the Shadow of the Death, you emerge not only victorious, but more appreciative of His provision as well! After the dark comes the morning . . . remember that. The storm may be FIERCE, but I assure you God can, and will, in His timing calm it.

What does this glorious light consists of? A new place of employment, my first full-time job in over four years (that wasn't seasonal and that was at least 40 hours) with benefits and an amazing woman . . . one that I never would've believed our paths would've crossed again. Twenty one years after being boyfriend and girlfriend in middle school (7th grade). Here we are again, except this time pruned and prepared. What a faithful God! Beauty beyond measure-- both outwardly and more importantly inwardly. The wildest part is the VERY LAST thing I was looking for was a girlfriend, or any type of relationship, due to my wounded heart and mistrust I suddenly had in women.

But when it's a God thing you just KNOW and I will never turn down His bread (manna). When He's the Orchestrator of it . . . it's just right and there is no doubt! We are trying a new approach than we've ever taken-- we are letting Him build the relationship brick and brick with us putting our tools down. He was a carpenter 2000 years ago and though it sometimes doesn't feel like it . . . He is continually building in our lives!

So I encourage you mighty man, mighty woman of God~ HOLD ON!! Help is on its way . . . things are going to get better for you! Keep in mind the Teacher is always quiet during the tests. When you get tired of holding on, hold on through His strength. He desires to bless you and sometimes that blessing is an unanswered prayer. . . one that feels like a denial. He desires to grow and mature you and that most effectively happens through pain and brokenness.

In the face of the paralyzing fear, and sadness, Satan tries to place in your path, throw JOY-- he hates it when whatever schemes he tries to execute don't succeed in stopping our worship of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords!

The cavalry may not come to your rescue when you want it to, but I can assure you with every breath in my lungs . . . it will come! The One who died for us on Cavalry, Jesus Christ, will once again be your ever-present Help, but I encourage you to before, during and after give Him the glory and know He is working ALL things together for your good! Know your worth as a precious, and beloved, child of God and praise His glorious name in the hallway until He opens up a door for you!

It's in the hallway He teaches us, molds us and matures us the most. Don't miss some of His greatest miracles in the hallway because you are too busy praying for the miracle on the other side of the door.

The Pho3nix

He made beauty from ashes from the flames I rise
That's what grace is, creating truth from a heap of lies

See, I was deserving of death and not a single thing more
Yet, You loved me so much, as You cried and Your blood started to pour

In the flames and burning that's where I was destined, and bound, to go
You pursued me, bathed me, then washed me white as the purest snow

Out of the ashes You called me by name, "Come forth" You are my hand's very best
Father don't you know my dirt, my shame, how can You let me ride Your wave like a crest?

Know what I've done-- been a hypocrite, a sinner, an addict, served two masters, I was fake
Posed as a sheep when I was a wolf, a tender bunny when I was closer to a snake

Still I rise, still I rise . . . the Phoenix undeserving and so beautiful-- makes Barbie blush
You Raise Me Up like I'm Josh Grobin~ you quiet my spirit, in the storm, oh what a hush

You made a way for me Jesus, the army was closing in then you parted the Red Sea
Of Your grace I can't contend, Your love, your mercy, your power has set me free!

Out of the grave, out of the inferno into these clouds I fly like an eagle~ I soar
I chased the wind, but you were patient, until I found I wanted You more

Rise me up above the hills, be my Strength, put a crown on my head
I only want it, so I can cast it at Your feet, in worship, when I'm dead

JMB

Go Fly a Kite Part 3

As soon as they pulled in driveway, Timmy unbuckled himself and jumped out excitedly.

"Dad, Dad," he called out before the front door had even closed.

"Back here, son."

Timmy ran down the hallway to his Dad's office.

"I got a kite Dad. You know how you always tell me to go fly a kite," Timmy naively asked.

"Mamaw took me to Walmart and bought me one."

As if he didn't even hear his son at all, he told Timmy to go get his glove. Timmy cowered.

"But I wanted to fly my new kite."

"Boy, if you want me to spend some time with you you'll go get your glove."

Those words crushed Timmy, but he ran to his room and put his kite on the bed and grabbed his glove out of his toy box. He ran outside and started tossing the baseball up in the air and trying to catch it. He was out there 15 minutes before his Dad came outside. With him only six years old, he spent far more time chasing the ball as it rolled than catching it.

When his Dad came outside he was on the phone, leaving the boy instantly disappointed. He tossed the ball to his Dad and his Dad threw it back. Drop, a bounced ball, throw, drop . . . the cycle repeated itself over and over.

It didn't take long Justin started. It wasn't malicious. It wasn't even purposely mean-spirited. He was just being him. As parents, it's easy to become hung up on performance instead of just being IN the moment and down on their level, which is all kids really want in the first place. . . a sentiment shared by every kid throughout the world no matter what their background.

"You're not keeping your eye on the ball Timmy," Justin, who was an All-State performer in high school, said.

"Talking to my son, we're playing catch," Justin quickly followed up.

"Who are you talking to Daddy," the son said ignoring his Father's pleas to 'do better.'

Justin ignored him before starting off a soapbox sermon with an audience of zero.

"Second place is the first loser. No point playing the game just for fun." Justin said, hoping to live his own dreams through Timmy of making it to the majors. "Your know your Daddy was All-State," he proudly proclaimed.

"Yep, if I wouldn't have thrown out my arm there is no doubt I would've made it to the pros."

"What's All-Steak," Timmy innocently asked. "Is that what Mommy fixes for dinner sometimes?"

The same cycle happened like clockwork. Only something strange happened . . . Timmy did catch the ball. His eyes got big like flying saucers when he realized his achievement. He quickly looked at his Dad, hoping and just knowing he saw the monumental moment. And he would've if he hadn't been so busy, on Facebook, drowning himself in everyone else's lives to even notice his own life just got wet with one of those irreplaceable instants!

Timmy threw down his glove and kicked the grass mad his Dad didn't even see what he did. He Ran over to the swing and threw himself on it belly-first as the pendulum sent him flying into the air, arms extended, like he was Superman. After another 10 minutes passed, of which Justin didn't even notice, he called Timmy back over to him. Come play catch again was the request.

Timmy walked back over and picked up his glove in happy-go-lucky fashion.

Throw, drop, chase. Throw, drop, chase. . . until lightning struck twice. Timmy closed his eyes and viola he caught another throw.

"Did you see that. Huh did you Daddy? Did you see," his eagerness bubbling over.

With the phone glued to his ear, Justin didn't miss a beat.

"Yeah I did. Good job, but next time keep your eyes open." As soon as the words hit the atmosphere, Timmy felt that all too familiar feeling . . . he was crushed!

His little spirit had soared to the heavens only to have them nosedive, crash and burst into a fiery inferno. Justin tried to think fast . . . after all, he was used to using his smoothness, his charm to get exactly what he wanted no matter the situation.

"Put it here son," he said as he reached his hand down to his son, initiating a high-five. But the damage had been. Sure Timmy halfway, and with the enthusiasm of watching paint dry, extended his hand up to his Dad, but he was just ready to get in the house.

As tears dripped down his cheeks, he tried to open the door, but his blurry eyes just wouldn't allow him. Justin, feeling terrible, raced up the five steps and pulled the handle down for his son.

He felt defeated, his spirit was crushed-- it was an all too familiar feeling. Maybe he would always be a screw-up . . . a failure. His Dad's words sounded like piercing screams in the middle of a slumber. They ate at him, consumed him and wilted any chance of life before it could bloom.

"Baby, what's wrong," Timmy's Mom Kailey asked.

"Dad," he shot back more hurt than angry.

Timmy started to walk off then turned back around, facing the kitchen, almost as quickly as he had started down the hall.

"Mom, wanna help me fly my new kite with me before it gets night-time?"

"I would love to," she started to walking to his room. Timmy smile was so big it could've covered up the sun.

"Oh shoot, I forgot. Baby, I can't play with you right now. I have spaghetti cooking for your Dad. Maybe next time. I promise."

It's always next time.

Go Fly a Kite Part 2

Timmy was so excited. His Mamaw was picking him up from school and they were heading straight for Walmart. He was finally going to get a kite. When you're a child, there are few things as fascinating as a kite. How does it get so high? What keeps it up there? Look at the colors and now a days they even have kites that have kids main characters from their favorite shows.

To say he was excited for the bell to ring would be the understatement of the century or at least would tie for it.

"Somebody is excited," Mrs. Olson, Timmy's teacher said.

"Mamaw is picking me up and I'm going to get a new kite," Timmy blurted out without her really even asking.

"That is exciting! She must love you very much."

Timmy just smiled from ear-to-ear, but that smile paled in comparison to the smile that was on his face as he climbed into Mamaw's Honda.

"Are we going? Are we going?"

"Well, hey to you too," Mamaw said.

"Yes, we're going. Are you excited?"

"Like this much," Timmy said, as he stretched his arms super-far apart.

"Whoa. Are you sure you're THAT excited," she said.

"Mamaw, you have no clue," Timmy said with his eyes glued to Max and Ruby as he sung along.

When they walked into the store the boy, spurred on by unbridled excitement, ran ahead of his Grandmother to the toy section where he was met with a surprisingly big selection of kites. There was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle ones, Transformers, G.I. Joe, SpongeBob Square Pants, Lebron James, Duck Dynasty, Charlotte Bobcats and Carolina Panthers and even girl kites . . . Barbie, Doc McStuffins, Dora and the like, but there was one that, when his eyes first laid on it, Tommy just had to have.

"Look Mamaw, it's an eagle," he said as he jumped up and down.

"Can we get it, can we get it," Timmy, who was usually pretty even-keeled, said.

"Iiiiiiiii donnnn't knoooooow," his Mamaw playfully delayed as she drug out her words.

"Of course we can."

"Woo hoo," Timmy shouted, as he gave a fist pump and proceeded to do a happy dance . . . so much for even-keeled.

After his Mamaw added a few items to the buggy, they made their way to the front to check out and just when Timmy thought he was finally going to get his kite he heard his Mamaw.

"Why don't you go in front of us since you only have a couple of things," she said to the unsuspecting, yet equally grateful, black woman, who had her daughter about Timmy's age.

"Uh, Mamaw," Timmy tried to protest. This was certainly one time he didn't appreciate his Mamaw's big heart.

Mamaw cut her eyes at him in a similar fashion as his Mom and he knew to be quiet.

"Sorry Mamaw, I just can't wait to get home!"

As they checked out Timmy watched his Grandmother hand an extra 10-dollar bill to the cashier as she asked the young girl to give it to the person behind me . . . "Just want to make their day. Tell them Jesus loves them," she said as she gave her 'Pay it Forward' directions.

They made their way to the parking lot and soon as the cold air smacked them in the face Timmy's enthusiasm bubbled over.

"Let's skip Mamaw," he suggested.

She just smiled. Although she had several bags to carry, while her left hand held Timmy's, she knew it was one of 'those moments' . . . you know the type many miss out on because it's not convenient, but the type that makes you feel truly alive.

So off they skipped. With it being after school, the parking lot was pretty full, so they had to park 10 rows away. That was just fine with Timmy.

"You're the best Mamaw," he said, reaching his arms up to hug her as she buckled him into his booster seat.

"I love you so much. You're a special boy," she said as she kissed his forehead.

"The best Mamaw eveeeeeeer!"

She put the key in the ignition, turned on his DVD player, cranked the car and checked the mirror before she pulled off.

"So where are we going," she asked.

"Do you want to show Papaw your new kite or do you want to go home?"

"I think your Daddy is home if I'm not mistaken."

"Oooo-oooooo, home home," Timmy blurted out.

"Home it is."

And off they went.

Sippy-Cup Sits

Sippy-cup sits on the table but the toddler is nowhere to be found

She’s gone, like my smile, but with her exit she left me with a frown

Diapers on the carpet might as well throw them in the trash

I remember her giggle as we put powder on her rash

Feel these four walls closing in like they’re the jaws of life

Reality feels like a machete cutting me like a knife

She’s not completely the bad guy many relationships come to an end

It’s up to them both what happens, when they heal, if they’ll ever be one again

Went ahead and deleted Instagram and Facebook

The only thing that hurts worse than living it is if I look

Family jerked out from under me like it was musical chairs

 Which hurts worse? Her or the kids. . . now we’re splitting hairs

They say it’s a package deal, but if it ends, there is no visitation

Would I do it again? Absolutely, I would with no hesitation

My pillow brings me no rest and I’ve drowned in oceans of tears

Who would’ve ever thought passing a park would be the sum of all my fears?

Their laughs are like daggers, piercing my heart, I can’t even look at the swings

They say time heals all wounds, but these are timeless— the pain still stings

 I miss wrestling with my little buddy . . . I didn’t have that growing up

Watching his face light up, or feeling his hug, more than filled my heart’s cup

Pictures by the bed, sippy-cup on the table and pictures on the fridge

I travel over these troubled waters with each memory serving as a bridge

Where does the bridge lead—to together or never only the Lord knows

But I will trust, I will walk victoriously, and let His Love keep me warm when the cold wind blows

JMB

 

 

 

Actually, Yeah . . .

Do you want me to come over there?

"No," was the short, and sharp, reply.

"Are you sure," I asked.

"Yeah," was her stern response. She wasn't budging!

A couple of minutes passed and a scary image, not too scary after all it was The Croods, came on the screen. Her eyes got big as saucers and her mouth dropped open. She was terrified.

"Actually, yeah," my four-year-old niece Karson Faith said, excitingly requesting my presence, moving from the recliner to the couch beside her. She not only wanted me beside her . . . she wanted me beside her FAST!

And that moment, it hit me . . . that's how it is with us and God.

God stands at the ready, willing and far more than able to satisfy our every need and He, like me, asks, "Do you want me to help you?"

And stubbornly, foolishly, we tell Him no. But we have those, "Actually, yeah," moments too, don't we?

We get that diagnosis, we lose a loved one, we suffer that disappointment, we lose that job, we can't find a job, we get a divorce, we start experiencing financial problems, we start living fast and find ourselves in need of help, we choose other things over God, we are sick, the pain seems to intensify instead of going away . . . "Actually, yeah!"

Yeah God, I could really use Your help right now. I'm sorry I didn't come to You sooner! When we cry out, God doesn't come on the scene, He is already there, but when we cry out we invite Him into our situation. We, essentially, give Him permission (not that He needs it) to work behind the curtain to make things better . . . whatever He deems better is.

 He would be more than justified to say, "No, you haven't wanted me to help for HOW LONG now? So I'm going to have to say no . . . sorry." How laughable is that notion? No, instead He rejoices. He knows how hard-headed, and stubborn, we are-- after all, He made us! But our delay in asking, thankfully, does not bring about His denial!

There is wisdom and maturity that happen when we depend on God . . . no matter how long it takes us to ask, but there is GREATER wisdom in asking Him to direct your paths through ordering your steps. The only way you can do that is through submitting your will to His, meaning the ONLY steps you make are ones He told you to take. It's wonderful to realize we can not do life alone, but it's even better to keep the lines of communication open AT ALL times-- in good times and bad times! It's about walking in gratitude, being obedient and sharing His love all the while through prayer seeking His will for your life.

He loves us infinitely, and unconditionally, that's why He works on our behalf even when we treat Him like a 911 God instead of the Lord of our lives.

So I ask you . . .what are some things happening in your life that you haven't invited God into? I challenge you to simply say, "Actually, yeah," and watch what God does with it. At the very least, He will hear you, comfort you, protect you and guide you.

When I sat down on the couch, my niece put her head up against my chest and I wrapped my arm around her. The Lord does the same with us. Isn't that exciting?!? We get to put our heads on the Creator of the Universe's chest. Our Savior is also our Father and in His relentless patience He awaits us to have enough faith and humility to say those two small words.

Maybe pride has kept you from doing it . . . maybe you feel like nothing ever works out for you, but God is faithful! When we say them-- we change the atmosphere and we release the Master of making the IMPOSSIBLE possible into our circumstance. Peace is not the absence of affliction, but when you're in the presence of God . . . you have something immeasurable-- HOPE!

Just like my niece felt in that moment, you will feel loved, comforted, protected and content. There is NO better place you can be.

15 Years Later

Damn bro, it's hard to believe it's been THAT long!

Fifteen years and I promise you not one day passes where I don't think of you. Sometimes it's because your initials are tattooed on my arm, but most of the time it's just thinking of all the memories we made and how much I miss you Brookins, but sometimes it's because I pass Walker Branch Road late at night, on my way to the gym, and can't help but wonder, as I pass, why my road continues and your's didn't. . or because I see your Mom at the gym and see the hurt in her eyes and hug her and tell her 'I love you' and picture me being you just so you can tell her one last time. She was your hero! We were always Momma boys.

You were Jonathan Branch when your Mom (Sally) introduced us and you instantly became the brother I never had . . . from Kindergarten through middle school we were inseparable and we made so many memories. My house was the first one you ever spent the night at. As I write this, with tears flowing down my cheeks like you just passed, I go through them like a file-cabinet in no particular order.

Pretending my ceiling fan was the basketball hoop and we would slam dunk a Nerf basketball over the blades because we had just watched our hero Michael Jordan drop another 40 on another helpless opponent. . . Us playing endless-games of 1-on-1 basketball at your house, or mine, and our Moms coming out to tell us our peanut butter jelly sandwiches were ready. You would win most of the time, but those were some of the best memories. Maybe I should say I beat you since you aren't around to defend yourself lol-- just messing with ya! Think about all those 1-on-1 football games we played in my grandparents' front yard or your Mawaw's. How many video games did we play over the years? How many hours? Atari . . . Nintendo . . . Sega Genesis . . . Super Nintendo . . . Nintendo 64 . . . Sega Dreamcast . . . man, we played them all! I remember our motto to our Moms too-- "All right, just one more game." And they would always say, does it not have a pause button? And we would just either ignore them or just laugh and keep playing, and playing and playing . . .

All the Carolina football and basketball games . . . all the Braves' games . . all the Dolphins' games . .
all the Chicago Bulls' games . . . playing in the tree house or on the swing . . . snowball fights in my grandparents' front yard . . . talking about how pretty Tyona (Brackett) was/is. . . Heather (Wylie) and Haley (Ledford) too . . . all the Kung Fu and Jean Claude Van Damme movies . . . all the girls' hearts we broke . . . you on the top bunk with your's and me on the bottom with my girl and we were just in middle school . . . all basketball games from South Fork through high school . . . bro, we used to compete like we HATED each other, but it was always love . . . Ping-Pong games . . . trips to Carowinds . . . sitting in church . . . going to youth group . . . MYF . . . Lincolnton Wolves' football and basketball games and us looking up at the players like they were pros . . .  writing in each other's yearbooks from elementary through middle school and high school . . .

Staying up all night playing video games, eating chips and drinking sweet tea and Sun Drop . . . you trying to sneak into my sister's room . . . us aggravating her . . . you were always acting like you had a crush on my Momma or my sister and giving me a hard time about it.. us being sweet to your little sister Lauren, you adored that little girl, or me telling you be nicer to her . . . us walking home and watching cartoons after school from S. Ray Lowder . . . still think you were supposed to marry Sarah King, don't worry she got a good husband who takes cares of her and two beautiful children . . . us playing in the neighborhood with Matthew and Stephen (Adams), Brent (Colvard), Jody (Harkey), David (Forrester) and whoever else we could find . . . Going to Camp Cheerio . . . playing tennis, pretending we were Andre Agassi, Pete Sampras and Boris Becker . . . us shooting the bow and arrow . . . going to Lake Hickory and Norman . . riding the JetSki and fishing . . Junior Catillion-- who hated it more!?!

You getting your license before me and us bumping Scarface and Bone Thugs-n-Harmony, in your white Camaro (little did we know your last trip would be in a black one-- believe it or not, my little step-sister died in a black one too . . she was 16) , on the way to high school and we thought it was coolest thing in the world the bass was shaking the rearview mirror . . . me cheering you on in baseball at the West Lincoln Dixie League through you becoming an All-State pitcher and winning state titles . . . hanging out in your dorm room-- me, you, Black, Trey and Blackwell, playing video games, bumping Goodie Mob and Outkast . . . us passing notes to girls in elementary and comparing when we got home . . .

Us swimming at the Cloningers, playing Marco Polo . . . going to Brandee Potts' house 704-735-6337 . . . crazy that I still remember her number haha . . . us playing the circle, dot game just so we could punch each other . . . This is crazy! I haven't thought of some of these things in over 20 years! Giving each other nicknames . . . our first adjustable basketball goals and us dunking on them so much Sally and Florence would fuss and it didn't take long for those rims to get bent . . .

Me dropping by Hollybrook just to chat-- I swear I would feel your presence like you were right beside me, calling me punk, as*hole or some other name you used to show me how close I was to you . . . I would have some deep chats with you my boy, like the good ol' days 735-6792/704-735-0545 to 735-1101, with no one else around except the cold wind and my thoughts and tears . . .

Watching GI Joe . . . Ghostbusters . . . The Never-ending Story . . . Goonies . . . you in your black blazer and me in my Saturn racing down the mountain from Western, literally racing-- man, that was stupid but it was fun . . . speed always is until :o( . . .  All the laughs . . . all the smiles . . .  all the stories about girls . . . the Black-n-Mild cigars . . .  Me annoying you, by staying on top of you to not take the Lord's name in vain, until you quit saying God-dam*it, so you tweaked it to God bless it-- I still say that now bro . . .

Enough of the Memories . . .

I always looked up to you Jonathan. You were always the coolest, sure we were both popular, but you were always the coolest dude in our class. You were like a big brother to me. That's why when Matthew (Adams) knocked on my door Albright 207 door to tell us you were gone, it crushed me! It was raining that day, which was fitting because I had a broken heart bro. See, you know you were into partying in high school and I was a goodie-goodie, so we went down two separate paths . . . and we never got that closeness back like it was growing up, but like you said in our last high school yearbook-- an entry, and a blessing I'll always cherish, where you did something you never did . . . let your guard down.

"Brooksy, well man we are about to graduate! It's been lots of fun over our 4 yrs of high school. I know that we have kinda lost touch over the last couple yrs, but hey the friendship is all that matters. Well I'll more than likely see you at Western. J.B.

I always looked forward to after college when our friendship came full-circle and we would be tight again. Once Matthew knocked on our door at 6:30 that morning, I knew we would never get that chance. That hurts like hell to this very day! But with that knock something else changed. The semester after you passed, I re-committed to myself. I felt like I was carrying dreams for two instead of just me. In my heart I dedicated my grades to you-- I ended up with a 3.95 in my major and made the Dean's List multiple times. . . that was off the heels of making 3 Ds one semester my freshman year.

I've never lost that feeling. One day, I'll be a husband, one day I'll be a Dad and when those days come . . . you'll become a husband and Dad too!! You already have many times as over as Brian, Shane, Billy etc. have become husbands and Dads. Anything I accomplish writing, or in any walk of life, it's also your accomplishment. I want to make you proud-- proud of what I do and proud of the man I am, so you can look down, smile and say, "That's my little brother!"

You are the biggest reason why I take a gazillion pictures of the people I love because when I went back through all my pictures I had less than 10 of you and I swore that would never happen again! Ask Sara or any of my family-- it annoys the hell out of them! LOL. You are the reason, along with Karson and A.J., I appreciate the hell out of life, soaking up every single drop and cherishing every day I get. . . sometimes I feel unworthy I've had 14 more years than you, 18 more than Karson and 12 more than A.J. When I squander them, I feel y'all speaking to me and telling me it's OK don't beat yourself up, but you ONLY GET ONE so be sure to LIVE IT because we know it's over before you know it! You're the biggest reason I tell my Momma, my Dad, my sister, Buddy, my Mamaw, my nieces and all my friends I love them because I never, in 14 years of friendship, told you once . . . not even a single time. Boys don't do that-- we were too cool although we knew.

Sorry for not coming to your funeral . . . I couldn't-- couldn't take the pain . . . denial doesn't begin to describe where I was. I also didn't want to break down and draw attention to myself-- that was your day! But shoot, I know you forgive me. The only silver lining of you passing at 20 is while we all go bald, get fat and lose our hearing, you will forever be that blonde-haired, curly-headed, bad boy with a smile that melted girls' hearts, a goatee and the first dude out of our class to get a tattoo (barb-wire at that). You will remain the boy who had a heart a gold and a gentle nature that caused little kids to flock to you like they did Jesus. You were James Dean meets Justin Timberlake bro and I was blessed to be your little brother and friend. . . to be the friend who you always picked on, but you never let anybody else!

The greatest tribute I can ever give you is NEVER letting you die-- as long as we keep your memory alive, while you may not be here, YOU will always be here with us! The greatest honor I can show you is letting you leaving us so soon make me be a better person-- a better believer, son, brother, friend, uncle and one day Dad, and Lord willing, Papaw.

I give you my word~ I will do both!! I already try my best to. You left behind a void that can never be filled . . . then again, it's not supposed to. If it is, we'll fill it by simply enjoying life-- something you can never be accused of failing to do.

Mikey D (Mike Devine), yeah remember Mike? Like another Dad to you . . . how many nights did you and Trey keep him up talking 'for just a minute.' haha He's the pastor at Covenant now (shocker right?) and the Lord is living through him and using him in a mighty way, leading many to Christ just like he did you. He told me about you getting things right with Jesus, shortly before you crossed over, so I know I'll see you again one day and I believe you welcomed Karson at the gates.

One Final Goodbye

I asked God for a miracle. It was the night after you died and I prayed, asking God to let me see you again. That night I dreamed we were all playing basketball in gym, like we did so often, and you were there. I looked at you funny and whispered to Matthew (Adams), Damien (Luce), Jason (Cooper), Matthew (Kennedy), Jeremy (Wilson) and Steve (Schley) among others, "How is he here?" I'll never forget two things: that God made the impossible possible through answering my prayer and 2. what you said to me.

"I came back to make everything right. Tell Mom, George and Lauren I love them. Tell Brian, Shane, and Trey I love them. I love you bro . . . even if I never see you again."

I told them. Actually, you just told them yourself.

Outkast's Aquemini will always have a place in our hearts since that's what you were listening to that cold November night. I know your rearview was shaking as you bumped 'Ha ha hush that fuss/everybody move to the back of the bus!' Your last moments here on Earth I believe were happy ones. A tragedy none of us ever thought we would be faced with WILL NEVER erase the memories, all the years we experienced with you!!

Some cards life deals us are shitty-- like that fateful night-- there is no other way to say it, but where you are God gave you your Royal Flush. I mean you get to be with Jesus all the time . . . it gets no better than that! So don't rest in peace Jonathan David Brookins, love every single second in His presence and with your loved ones. All I ask is when it's my time is for you to be part of my greeting committee . . . meet your boy at the gates!

Til' then I'll be missing you and carrying you with me each step I make and each breath I take.

Go Fly a Kite Part 1

Every day little Timmy wanted one thing.

And every day, he always got the same response.

But that didn't stop him from asking with the same enthusiasm, desire and faith it would be different this time!

More attention . . . that's all he wanted-- nothing more, nothing less just some attention from his parents. A six-year-old kindergartener Timmy always couldn't wait to get home. Sure, he would work on his letters, take a nap like the other kids and practice his counting, but he would anticipate the bell to ring and he would run from his classroom to out in front of the school to wait for his Mom.

As soon as he would see his Mom's car, his face would light up with a big grin. Every day the conversation would flow just like clockwork. Almost the same questions and nearly the same responses, but it wasn't what was said that was as important as what it meant . . . just knowing his Mom cared.

His parents loved him deeply, but like so many they found themselves too busy—too busy . . . even for their primary responsibility and ultimate privilege of raising a child.

Timmy didn't get much attention. His Dad was more like a father-- a man obsessed with work and too self-centered to sacrifice any of his free time to be involved. In the time he wasn't working from home, cooped up in his office, he could be found, nine times out of 10, at the local country club on the links.

There were times he would half-ass it with Timmy. Sure there were genuine moments with his son and he did love him . . . he just didn't know how to show it. He grew up with a dad who didn't show much affection, he could count on both hands how many times he heard his dad tell him he loved him and he had a penchant for condescending his son and making him feel so low he could drown in a mud-puddle. If that wasn't bad enough, his father would then taunt him when he would see the tears well up in his eyes. So yeah, you could blame Timmy's Dad, but we all are products of our environment and moldings of our life experiences and sadly not everyone has the strength to transcend the hellish nightmares that were their childhoods.

Timmy’s Mom loved her son so much, but between keeping the house up, being a stay-at-home mom and tending to her infant daughter, she rarely had much time to invest in her little green-eyed brown-haired boy. She was making bottles, changing diapers, feeding Kailee and she was in her arms so much it appeared she had developed a third appendage.

Who knows how many times Timmy had walked into his Dad’s office and asked his Dad to play with him and most of the time his response was, “I would love to, but boy, can’t you see I’m busy? Why don’t you go fly a kite or something?!?”

“My kite is broken Dad,” Timmy would say.

“Maybe we can go to Wal-Mart and get a new one or something?”

“Yeah, maybe so kid. Maybe so. Now go on.”

Every time those words crushed Timmy’s spirit . . . he would be shaken to his very core . . . his little heart broken. He would leave the office and go to his room to play with his toys, but as he walked down the hall, big crocodile tears would flow freely down his office. Sometimes his Mom would see he was upset, sometimes she wouldn’t, but God saw and caught each one.

Other times he would play with Timmy, but it wasn’t really getting down on his son’s level. He was too rigid for that. The little kid inside had died long ago. Instead, his Dad would more or less just watch his son play and talk to him a little bit while he used his vivid imagination. It was more spectating than participating and was mostly done out of obligation to make himself feel better about missing out on so much of his son’s childhood.

He didn’t know how. He didn’t know how to be a Dad and had too pride to try.

Things were different when he would approach his Mom. She would always try to spend time with him, but the truth was she was just too busy. With her husband doing little around the house to pitch in, she was always cleaning, picking up or tending to Kailee, which left little time to play with her son for any substantial amount of time.

Even so, Timmy always appreciated his Mom’s attempts even if it lasted no longer than 10 minutes before she was off to do the next thing on her list. She would make it a point to hug him and tell him how much she loved him before giving him a kiss.  Her kisses always seemed to make everything better.

Timmy always sought his Dad’s approval—something that seemed to elude him with the same frequency as morning Kid Disney, Sprout or Nick Jr. cartoons. Just like clockwork, the love and admiration for his Dad was rarely returned.

He was definitely closer to his Mom, and she was his hero, but he still wanted more of her attention. Then one day, it dawned on him! The kite. The kite was the answer. If he could just get a new kite then maybe his problem would be solved. Surely since his Dad always suggested he should go fly it that, if he got a new one, his Dad would go out in the front yard and help him fly it!

“That’s it. That’s it,” Timmy thought.

If he could just get a kite.

He ran into the kitchen and asked his Mom if he could talk to his Grandmother. She dialed her number and handed her cell phone to Timmy.

“Mamaw, will you take me to get a new kite tomorrow,” he excitedly asked.

“You will. Yes! Thank you so much Mamaw. You’re awesome dude,” Timmy said.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow things would be different. He could hardly wait!

 

In Your Presence

Coming into Your chambers, I long to see Your face
I'm washed in Your mercy, covered in Your grace
I want nothing from You, but to worship and adore You
So here I am Jesus, I've come to see Your face

Hide me underneath Your wing, hold me so close
Breathe Your life into me, You're my only boast
In Your presence I'm made whole, in Your presence I find rest
In Your presence my poverty leaves, I am so blessed

So here I am Jesus, kneeling before Your throne
Your Grace made a way for me~ gave me a home
In Your presence I'm made whole, in Your presence I find rest
In Your presence the darkness flees, my God You're the BEST!

Now my life's over~ no more air to breathe
I am with my Lord, my Friend, my King
And with the angels I rejoice, with the angels I sing praise
King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Ancient of Days!

Hide me underneath Your wing, hold me so close
Breathe Your life into me, You're my only boast

John Mark Brooks

I WILL MARCH!

I've cried every single day for a month and a half, but I rejoice for God tells me my time is coming, so I hold on through faith. The fog has engulfed me, the darkness, at times, overtakes me, I’m cold, fatigued and have to listen for the faint sound of victory in the distance. It is muffled or is it even there? No, it’s there—you just have to focus your ears on what you believe is there UNTIL it is there!

My General gives me just enough bread (manna) to make it each day. No, it's NOT easy-- far from it, but like a battle-worn soldier I MARCH. I MARCH on with so much fierceness, determination, belief, faith and conviction . . . my MARCH would make the March on Washington by Martin Luther King Jr. and a million men blush!

I am a wounded soldier . . . some wounds come from friendly fire-- those are the most painful and hurt the worst as the bullets pierce my skin, some stem from wandering from the battlefield, out of fear, only to be ambushed with a worse attack, some of the wounds are from bullets, that ripped through my skin, as I tried to find my way through life with the evil intent of killing me and still other wounds are found on my body from my own bayonet-- I knew dangers lurked, hurt and pain peeking around the corner just waiting on their opportunity to pounce, and that I was bound to be attacked . . . by those who love me and by those who hate me . . . so, I just stabbed myself to beat them to the punch or self-inflicted because my General told me to take over, but I insisted on charging instead!! If not for His belief in me . . . I surely would've died.

Yes, I have wounds. They are UGLY! They are the scars of life that show just how treacherous navigating this battlefield can be. The only, imminent, way to not get hit is to get out of the fight! But to NOT fight is to not LIVE~ To NOT love is to not believe~ to not man the trenches is to be NO man at all! Wounds show God’s faithfulness, but they are not meant to serve as our compass, or our roadmap, to determine where we will go next. The beauty of scars is it means you MADE IT THROUGH . . . stop, exhale, look to the Heavens and rejoice—You MADE IT!!

I invite you to MARCH with me. Am I marching in the army of the cross? YES! Am I marching to make this world a brighter place? Yes! Am I marching for myself with every unrealized dream in reach and hope and belief it will make a difference? Yes! Do I wait for my marching orders before I spring into action? Sometimes, but I’m learning to let EVERY step be ordered by the General.

The blood dripping from the brow onto my lips makes me think of life for it was blood that gave me life in the first place. No matter how fierce the battle is, no matter how brutal the war; it pales in comparison to the fierce opposition and gory war our General Christ faced in his 33 years on this Earth! No matter where you find yourself in the war; It’s NO coincidence you find yourself enlisted. Whose side are you fighting on? You are in a war and, if you’re on my side, make no mistake your enemy wants nothing more than to KILL you before dancing over your grave . . . will you let him? Will you let your adversaries have the last laugh? Will you let them kill your spirits, suffocate your dreams and leave you cowering in the foxhole afraid to move a single inch for fear of getting your head blown off?

Before you MARCH up that hill to stake that ground with the flag of victory, tasting its delicious, irreplaceable, taste and smelling its sweet aroma; you must get out of the foxhole! It’s time to FIGHT~ it’s time to MARCH! There are times, I have to let my brave General carry me . . . there are times, I have to lean on my fellow soldiers. Fatigue has overtaken me, fear has paralyzed me and there are moments faith eludes me, but STILL I MARCH!

I’ll be damned if I let a person, whether they’re on my side or not, a circumstance, or ANY wound from my past hold me back. I stand steadfast . . . I remain resolute and I already have the victory! I just have to walk in it. Better yet MARCH.  I'm thankful for every letter, from home, expressing your support, love and encouragement, telling me how much you believe in me and how much you miss me! When I feel as if I've been forgotten, and I'm trying to keep warm, as I use the campfire for light . . . they remind me victory will be mine!! Just as important, they remind me I am loved.

Am I scared? Does uncertainty hang over my life like dark clouds? Clouds, yes. Are they dark? Possibly. Will the sun peek through? While I don’t know what the future holds, more than any point in my 34 years, I do KNOW the General will gladly take a bullet for me . . . so I MARCH after all, He already took three nails!

Eyes on Jesus

Hebrews 12:1-2

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”

Close your eyes and take in the scene . . . hear the ovation, picture each face and imagine seeing yourself run the race!

But there is one catch. Unlike most sporting events, the crowd never boos, jeers or shows their displeasure. They only want to see you succeed. If that’s not encouraging enough, the King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Creator of the Universe and our Savior is right there in the crowd, above the stadium and is the very Life-force giving you the strength and endurance to run.

The problem is many Christians don’t even feel God loves them, more than they could ever imagine, much less is cheering them on to succeed in this race called life. Although, they know, in their minds, all things work together for their good (Romans 8:28) and that He has plans to prosper them (Jer. 29:11); many lose hope along the way.

The race of life has just been too hard. That’s when we MUST think of our cloud! No, not the cloud for our iPods, iPads and iTunes—our great cloud of witnesses! When we fall into sin, when life’s trials and tribulations overwhelm us; our cloud cheers for us.

“Come on!”

“Get up!”

“You can do it!”

“We believe in you!”

God cares more about the rest of the race vs. what we have done thus far! Don’t let the Devil’s discouragement, and condemnation, hold you back. Re-focus your eyes on Jesus!

And run like your life depends on it. It does.  

‘Til the next time I’ll be holding God’s pen,

John Mark Brooks

 

Ye Though I Walk Through the Valley of the Shadow of Death

Ye though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death; I shall fear no evil for Thou art with me.

Who knows how many times I've read those words found in the 23rd Psalm, or read them, but it wasn't until this week I learned something about the valley that I've never known before.

And the CRAZY, albeit ironic, is it was in my face all along. As humans, we are susceptible to our emotions no matter how strong our faith is. We get overwhelmed with grief, eaten up with sadness
. . . we become frustrated, we doubt things are going to work out in our favor or in the way we want. In short, we fluctuate and are very fickle. When we are walking through the valley, there will be times we are steadfast and firm in the knowledge, and belief, God is working this together for my good, but there will be times when we look around and ALL we see is where we are!

It's scary . . . it's uncertain . . . it's unfamiliar . . . upon first glance; it's FAR from the place we feel God's love and see His faithfulness. Key words being: upon first glance. The thing God showed me a couple of days ago is it's NOT about where you are, but WHO YOU ARE WITH!! My problem is, and the thing I fight, I too often focus on my problem, my situation, my circumstance, my source of disappointment and my loss more than the Solution.

One of the best quotes I've heard about walking in this scary place, where you are stripped down to just your deep dependence on God is from Saddleback Church Pastor Rick Warren.
"When you are walking through the valley of the shadow of death; you turn your back on the shadow and face the Light."

It's simple. Really it's too simple, but it's true. The more we focus on where we are, instead of who we're with, our faith suddenly doesn't feel sufficient enough and our doubt and hurt is all our lives become centered around. But let's pay attention to those four life-changing words, "For Thou art with me."

Those words mean we not only have a Friend on our journey, through the valleys and on the peaks, but we also have a Sanctuary, a place of refuge, somewhere we will be protected and if that's not enough; our Friend will also take our burden. Isn't that amazing?!? And if that doesn't blow your mind, our Friend, our Sanctuary is the Creator of the Universe, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords!

Matthew 11:28-30 says when we are burdened and weary, He will give us rest. God then encourages us to 'learn of me,' which makes me think . . . do we spend more time focusing on our problem, our heartache or do we see explore what He is teaching us in the valley?

The Devil and sin, which is a parasite found in all of us due to the fall of mankind in the garden, both want us to dwell on the problem, but faith is not saying God do you see how big this problem is? . . . faith is looking at God and saying, "That problem is big, but I know you are BIGGER!"

Whatever has you stressing, down in the dumps, sad, frustrated and feeling as if there is no hope; it pales in comparison to Jesus. Your girlfriend, your wife, your boyfriend, your husband, your career, your finances, your kids . . . whatever is the source of discontentment, because you want your situation to be better, it's at best second place in your life and at worst maybe just in your top five of what's really important.

So, don't look at the waves, no matter how big they are, as if they are the entire ocean. Trust me I know it's not easy to do. When the pain is real, when the tears won't stop and when you feel like giving up, but God has a beautiful plan for your life. . . Keep things in perspective. I had some great friends Damien, Jason, Kris, Logan and Joey, among my parents, Buddy, sister, brother-in-law, Teena and my Mamaw, who reminded me of this very thing. We have to keep the big picture in mind not just this season of our lives. It's going to get better no matter the resolution.

I pray if they do come back that it's better than ever, if you do get that job or career, I pray it's everything, and more, you hoped it would be, if God does you favor in your finances, I pray you remember out of whose hand it was provided. But more than the outcome is our trust when going through this uncomfortable, unpredictable and scary place. It's knowing where He is leading you is BETTER than you've been.

I fear we are dyslexic as believers. We focus on finding our healing, overcoming our addiction, beating that nagging sin and look for all these ways to approach our problems THEN we go to God. We need to go to God to find our healing, to be restored, to overcome our addiction and for Him to give us direction, letting Him guide our each and every step. . . in good times and in bad.

There is nothing wrong with having faith, against all odds, in fact, I believe He rewards our heart's desires when we do and when we seek Him, but what matters more than anything is intimacy with the Lord. It's about knowing Him more, getting closer to Him and listening to what He speaks to us.

The valley, at our loneliest, most broken and uncertain place, is where we are put through the Refiner's fire (Zech. 13:9) like silver and gold. The process is painful, but it not fruitless. In the valley, in the furnace, God is at work. Look at His assurance found in Isaiah 48:10. "Behold, I have refined you . . . I have tried you in the furnace of affliction."

So be thankful. I know it's not easy. I know it's not fun, but in the end it will be worth it! After all, He told us it was so.

Psalm 66:10-12

"For you, O God, have tested us; you have tried us as silver is tried. You brought us into the net; you laid a crushing burden on our backs; you let men ride over our heads; we went through fire and through water; yet you have brought us out to a place of ABUNDANCE."

Growing old with Grace~ to my Mamaw

You may have lost your memory, but you've still grown old with grace
And you've always known how to bring a smile to my face

I remember summers in Elk Park just like they happened yesterday
Being six, standing on the porch, you showed me the Way

Down at the creek, at the pond, in the yard or on a swing
These memories play a sweet chorus~ oh listen how they sing!

Growing up, you always knew what words you needed to say
And those words were often said, with your head bowed, as you took my hand to pray

You and Papaw would sit, in the living room, with a Bible in your lap
God not only led your marriage, but His Word was the map

Y'all raised three great children-- two boys and one girl
And I'm blessed, 34 years ago, it was she who introduced me to this world

You've always been there beside me, my special buddy, right by my side
I humbly walk in gratitude, but in my Mamaw I take much pride

All the knowledge, wisdom, faith and love, you've shared with me over the years
You've taught me there is nothing too broken for Jesus and to choose faith over my fears

It's a blessing for you to live so long; you got to watch your grandchildren have greats
I will cry when you go to Heaven, but I will smile because I know Papaw and your parents will meet you at the gates! JMB

In Christ Alone

We've heard it said so many times as children and throughout the years, "In Christ alone."

And I've always agreed He is the ONLY lasting joy, but that didn't stop my flesh from pursuing temporary joy and fleeting pleasures. . . until three weeks ago. I finally surrendered not just every area of my life, but surrendered all of ME! In Christ alone, I would find my love, sustenance, my joy, my peace, my protection, my identity and my purpose.

I had come to the end of myself . . . because that was the desire of my heart, but also because something was just 'missing' and I had no other choice. It just made sense. I felt great about that decision, but didn't tell a single solitary soul. Then a couple of days later, my new-found commitment would be put to the ultimate test. My girlfriend, the lady I'm planning a future with, broke up with me. Shocked, hurt, mad, disappointed, angry and sad altogether in one emotion was what I felt.

I was shattered.

To make matters worse, and harder, her two toddlers . . . two children, who I love like my own, who day in and day out I've been a parent to, were in the snap of a finger taken along with the object of my affection . . . my good thing! Three people, who just by them having breath in their lungs, make my life better. I was heart-broken. How could I not be? My 'family' was gone in an instant.

With as much warning as a tornado on a sunny day, my life, as I knew it, ended. The twister threw photos in the drawer, the winds crushed my spirit and the aftermath was ghosts in my home and a broken heart with barely an appetite. If for a season, or for good, I mourned with an intensity I've never felt or experienced.

In Christ alone . . .

Though the journey started before this storm, the lessons of trust, obedience, maturity, growth, security, protection and surrender were just starting.

This has been a divine appointment for me and for her-- that's how much He loves us and desires an intimate relationship with us. See, the thing I am guilty of was I gave her, and the kids, lordship over my life. No, I didn't worship them, but I exalted them, in terms of priority, above Jesus. He is a jealous God! Not in the sense He doesn't want us to spend time with the people we love or be happy, but in the sense of having a deep personal relationship with us.

When this happened, I could've blown off God's advances toward me and gone back to the temporary pleasures, of counterfeit love, but I didn't. I've been letting Him court me. I've been reading His Word daily, worshiping Him often and talking to Him even more than I did, which was often. God, to me, is not some Invisible Figure, in the sky . . . He is my Dad, my Guide, my Friend, my Master, my Teacher and my Refuge and I love to spend time with Him. In fact, I had forgotten just how much I do love it until this life-changing appointment.

To say this has been an eye-opening experience for me would hardly do it justice. This has been a life-giving experience! Does it hurt? More than I could've ever imagined. I've cried so many tears, I've groaned when I couldn't form words, I've been fighting mad . . . not at her as much as the situation. Walking into an empty house is difficult . . . not because I NEED her or the kids, but because I want them-- not for my selfish gain, but to lead them spiritually the way I should've the whole time. I am lonely . . . I am, at times, discontent, my days do not have the color they once did, but each day, I am learning-- it is in Christ alone.

In the wildnerness, there is a jewel . . . in the bitter taste of pain is the sweetest taste, so throughout this journey I am squeezing out every ounce of juice and finding the jewels in His provision for me, in the smiles and hugs of family and friends and in His Word.  I don't pine over her in the wildneress; I pine over Jesus.

One day, the pain was overwhelming me about how much I missed the three of them, as I poured out my heart to God (Psalm 62:8) and He revealed something VERY powerful to me. This is going to hit very close to home . . . but you know the way you miss your loved one who passed away? The way you miss the one you used to date or maybe even were married to? That deep longing for them . . That's just a minute amount of how the Creator of the Universe MISSES you!!

I'm not just talking about people who are unbelievers, and haven't accepted Jesus into their hearts, I am talking about men and women, who fill the pews every Sunday yet, whose hearts are FAR from Him. The one raising his hand on the fifth row may be farther from the Lord than the one who sits at the back of the church and sings not a single word.

God showed me, as I cried in His lap, the story of the prodigal isn't just about going from a sinful life to a redeemed one through Christ; it's also about those who know Him, but only on a surface level. It's about ALL of us . . . the agnostic, the atheists, the halfway believers and about the ones who are surrendered to Him. No matter how much you know Him . . . HE WANTS TO KNOW YOU MORE!!

I am not turning to pornography (my biggest struggle in my old life), I'm not turning to other women to meet my needs or to drugs or alcohol . . . although, I am sure some of those things would dull the pain for a moment. I am filling this emptiness, found in the pit of my stomach, with Bible verses, with prayer, with continuing my search for another career and cultivating the career God has already given to me my writing, with volunteering my time to make other people's lives better and with worship. And guess what? The empty feeling doesn't just magically go away, but it does get less and less. Does it fluctuate from day-to-day? You betcha  . . . more than the stock market!

There is no other way to 'make it' or even attempt to live life than hidden in Him. He IS my identity and no matter what earthly success I have, no matter what good things He does through me and no matter what status I reach; I simply want everyone to know I can do NONE of it without Jesus.

My identity, your identity, our identities can never be found in any of life's blessings-- not our children, not our family, not our friends, nor can it be found in our jobs-- not our careers-- not our money-- not our finances-- not our house-- not our cars-- single people, it can't be found in the 'one' who will complete you-- married couples, or even boyfriends and girlfriends, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you can't find it in each other!!

~Our identity can only be found in CHRIST ALONE . . . watch this . . . EVERYTHING ELSE IS SUBJECT TO CHANGE~ He is the Solid Rock, everything else is sinking sand.

There is not a single day, and honestly not many hours, I don't pray for her. Do I pray for God to send her back to me, so I can be the man I forgot to be somewhere along our journey? I sure do. Do I pray for the kids and their protection, that God would reveal His immeasurable Love to them and that one day they will become a mighty man and woman in God and that that same love would wash over their Mommy? Guilty again. But more than any selfish prayer, I pray she would find her restoration! What I pray for more than her restoration is that she finds EVERYTHING she needs in CHRIST ALONE.

Over the past few years, the Devil has stolen much from me . . . and many times it was because I left the door wide open not because he slithered in through some crack, and each time it was personal, but this time it is on a whole 'nother level! That WHICH WE DON'T VIGILANTLY GUARD through the blood is nothing more than an invitation to the enemy.

If I could only choose between her healing and us being together again . . . I would choose her healing every single time. I couldn't claim to love her, or be her friend, if I didn't, but God doesn't make us choose between two good things-- He desires for us to HAVE IT ALL-- the life more abundantly (John 10:10). There is nothing MORE abundant than knowing JESUS!! And there are few rewards as rich as being a good steward of the things He's entrusted to you.

So I steadfastly pray and when I get that chance to lead her again . . . I will do so in one way-- no days and weeks passing, at a time, where we don't read the Bible together or even talk about His faithfulness-- I will do it IN CHRIST ALONE!

That's how I am living not just each day, but moment to moment . . . Him living through me . . .IN CHRIST ALONE. 'Til the next time I'll be holding God's pen.

NO OTHER NAME

My heart will sing NO other name but Jesus.

That is how it is NOW inside me, but that hasn't always been the case! In fact, FAR from it . . . my heart has sung so many names; it's not even funny!! But one thing is certain-- only ONE song of my heart has NEVER left me filling incomplete, insufficient, restless, frustrated and tricked . . . JESUS!!

For six years, one song my heart sang on repeat was lust. LUST, sex, perversions, porn etc. And trust me-- it was on repeat, but the BEAUTIFUL part about it is with any CD . . . you can always hit eject and put another one in. That's what I chose to do.

See-- it's not that some of the things I did didn't satisfy me. Sometimes they did, but they NEVER satisfied me in a lasting fashion. How could they? How can anything? Money, status, respect, drugs, alcohol, sex, the opposite sex, the same sex, our jobs, our spouses, our significant others, not even our family. NOTHING brings lasting happiness, contentment, JOY and a sense of purpose like Jesus.

Many things can bring you temporary happiness. Many things can satisfy in the moment, but why would we, so willingly, embrace counterfeit when real exists? Not only does real exists, but it satisfies FOREVER! Isn't it foolishness we would chase after those things, knowing what the end-game will be? Knowing we will be left feeling empty?

What Name is Your Heart Singing?

It's not just sin that our heart can sing. It's husbands, wives, girlfriends, boyfriends, family members, friends. If we long for anything more than we long for Jesus . . . our heart is singing another name. I liken that to trying to fill up a cup that has a hole in it. No matter how much you try to pour in . . . it will never be enough!

No, I'm not saying we aren't supposed to have loved ones, who mean a great deal to us. I believe they are some of God's greatest gifts, but when we make her the focus of our heart-- we embrace fleeting when Lasting has His loving arms out just waiting for us to run into them!

I'm not casting any stones, because I have been, and still am at times, guilty of making my girlfriend an idol in my heart, but I am working on that. . . err, rather shall I say God is working on that for me.

There is no GREATER freedom than when you finally say-- I am done fighting! I am done serving Satan! I am done serving two masters, but only giving my allegiance to the Devil! My heart will sing NO OTHER name but Jesus!! That's when you begin to tap into the FULL abundant life found in John 10:10, but written in our DNA.

We were made, the reason we exists, is to KNOW God.

How Do You Hit the Eject Button?

It doesn't matter what name your heart sang yesterday or even a minute ago! That's the beauty of God . . . He cares about our future and doesn't hold against us, in terms of how much He loves us, our past allegiances. That's called GRACE.

How do you surrender? By doing what Hebrews 12:1 says, "Fixing our eyes on Jesus and running the race that was marked out for us, throwing off the sin that SO easily entangles." It's not a one-time decision. It's a continual one.

I have to set the record straight on a common misconception-- NONE of us can hit the eject button and put a new CD in using our own strength, but ALL of us can letting Him do it through us. I believe this is the case, so we will give Him the Glory instead of taking the credit for our change and improvement of behavior ourselves.

The life of a believer is found on the Surgeon's gurney. God, our Creator and Savior, is performing surgery on us. He is taking out the bad and replacing it with Him, who is good and the surgery will not end until we have drawn our final breath! That's exciting especially when you look at Phil. 1:6 that says the work He has begun in us WILL BE COMPLETED!! The purpose He has for your life WILL come to pass if we allow Him to have His way.

Ask God to change the song of your heart. The dance won't go as smoothly, but at least you'll no longer be dancing alone.

iTrustYOU

There I stood, not paralyzed in fear, but hesitant to do as I was told. The directive wasn't difficult, but it was scary. Sweat formed on my brow, my knees felt a little weak and the thought of what could happen scared me.

But then I did something that has unlimited power in our lives if we will just do it . . . I LET GO! I fell back, hoping, believing and praying the person, my partner in this summer camp exercise, would catch me. It was an exercise in TRUST.

See the person catching is entrusted with a great responsibility, while the person falling backward is trusting they will be caught. I've seen this exercise done on a 'ropes course,' with a harness, and people still being too terrified to relinquish control and free fall. In my humble opinion, the hardest thing for a human to do is to let go!

What would have happened if they didn't catch you when doing the trust exercise? Probably something that involves a whole lot of blood, a trip to the ER and some stiches. But with God, we are assured He WILL ALWAYS catch us!! And what better hands to catch us than ones that created us, made the universe and then sent His son to die for us, so we could be in right relationship with Him again?

Does this mean it won't hurt sometimes? Absolutely not, but sometimes the way He catches us still is painful because He is allowing some pain, so we can learn to depend on Him more, can grow and become stronger! It's ALL about trust.

What I've Learned about Trust

Trust is simply taking someone's hand . . . not asking where they are taking you, how long you will be there or what you are going to do . . . it's simply knowing that person loves you, has your best interests at heart and will do nothing to harm you. So too is it with Jesus.

God assures us ALL things work together for our good (Romans 8:28) and He has plans to prosper us and to give us a future (Jer. 29:11), so with that being said . . . IF we truly believe that why do we so easily freak out and become a ship so easily tossed about by the waves? (Ephesians 4:14).

I've learned God's ways are not always my ways and His thoughts are not always my thoughts (Isaiah 55:8-9) and that we see through a glass darkly (1st Corinthians 13:12, John 13:7), so we aren't always going to understand, but I honestly believe we aren't SUPPOSED to! It wouldn't be called trust if it was easy! Trust is not easy and is ONLY forged through time, one showing they are trust-worthy, love and relationship.

If anyone is deserving of our TRUST . . . wouldn't it be the One who hung the sun and moon, flung the stars in place (and knows them ALL by name), carved the mountains, filled the creeks, rivers, lakes and oceans, paints the sky and breathed us into existence? And if those reasons somehow aren't enough to trust Him; consider the blood He shed for you to reconcile us to His Father . . . doesn't ALL that demonstrate His great love for us and His trustworthiness?

When It's Hard to Trust

Remember this . . . you are NOT alone. It's difficult to trust when things aren't going your way, when those things you are praying for haven't been answered in the fashion you are believing they will or when your prayer gets answered, but it's not the answer you wanted. That's part of being human.

When you receive the diagnosis, when you receive the tragic news, when you lose your job, when your marriage fails, when that friend betrays you, when you don't feel good enough, when you lose all your money, when your career isn't going the way you'd hoped and dreamed JUST TRUST!!

Psalm 62:8 says, "Trust in Him at ALL times, pour out your heart to Him, for God is our Refuge." Notice it doesn't say when everything is hunky dory, when the birds are chirping, the sun is out and the harp is playing . . . it says ALL times. That's not a suggestion-- that's a directive for one of the simplest, yet hardest, things we can ever do here on Earth.

There will be times when He doesn't catch you and you find yourself completely broken. Friends when that happens, REJOICE-- when we are broken . . . when we are hurting . . . when we feel like nothing is going right; that's when we find the Answer to all our questions~ JESUS! That's when He can begin to mold us into the Masterpiece we already are yet have refused to be. When we feel like we can't take another step . . . we find the beautiful Truth-- we don't have to! He will carry us.

INTIMACY

I seek intimacy with Jesus (Yeshua is His name in Hebrew) daily. In intimacy, I find TRUST. In intimacy, I find FAITH. In intimacy, I find conviction not condemnation. In intimacy, I find expectancy. In intimacy, I witness the birth of a beautiful baby~ OBEDIENCE.

All of life's questions, simple and complex, are answered with INTIMACY.

And intimacy is the true reflection of one's heart toward the Father~ it reveals perhaps the greatest motive, "Am I seeking God's hand, His blessings or Divine Assistance, or am I simply, continually and relentlessly lavishing Him with my praise and adoration through a spirit of gratitude?"

The creation not wanting anything from the Creator except to be with Him and tell Him thank You, through words, listening and how one stewards what He has been given, for what He has done and will do . . . that is deep intimacy.

My heart overflows with gratitude not just for what You have done Lord, but for WHO YOU ARE. That's where the DEEPEST intimacy happens-- where deep calls out to deep-- when you worship the I Am for who HE IS not for his works!

That's why I worship and give You not only my praise, but my gifts, talents and LIFE! Your face surpasses endless blessing~ it's the GREATEST blessing of ALL! Seeking your face is rewarding and comes with GREAT RICHES: the fruit of the Spirit, wisdom, knowledge, all-consuming love to give, discernment and lasting joy and peace. The abundant LIFE John 10:10

My Ship Came In

Girl, you're not just out of my league~ you're out of the universe
You are my sweetest blessing after each and every curse

But each one brought me a step closer to a love I never dreamed
This reality is a fantasy, so much better than it seemed

I've been given a present~ a beautiful gift wrapped in Grace
And I open up the package~ each time I look at your face

Your eyes shine with joy and hope~ in your eyes I've found home
I had to come to the place I was no longer lonely; I was just alone

My glorious King filled my heart completely; overflowing the brim
He shined His radiant Light when my world used to be so grey and dim

I stood at the Harbor patiently waiting for my ship to come to shore
You are my Ephesians 3:20~ what I prayed for and so much more

God is teaching me daily what true love means and what it truly looks like
Learning it is more than exciting than when I first learned how to ride a bike

Each step of Earth's journey; I'll walk beside you through sun or storm
15 years later we are together~ 15 years after writing you from my dorm

Without Christ I'm just a boy, but with Him, I'll be your leader and your man
I promise to always pray for you, love you, be there for you and the kids as we follow God Almighty's plan.

I love you Sara and I am forever grateful for your love!

John Mark

Changing Your Tapestry

Moments . . .  moments what life is comprised of. Each one like a single thread-- some beautiful, some ugly and others don't seem to fit the pattern, but the amazing thing is God weaves the most beautiful tapestry imaginable . . . no matter how many ugly threads we give Him once we let Him!The Weaver can ALWAYS make something beautiful out of them!

I truly believe the reason why a work of art is called a masterpiece is because it is a Master's piece . . the moment in time where the artist took the talent God (Master) gave them and created something awe-inspiring. That's what ALL of our lives can become if we surrender our gifts, talents and lives to the Him.

Some threads (decisions/moments in life) seem ugly, but the Weaver is so powerful and loving He can make those, the way they fit into the pattern, the most gorgeous of all. Threads that change not only the pattern, but the whole tapestry itself. See just like the Phoenix . . . He can, will and longs to make beauty from ashes-- life from our death! He is not just our Redeemer; He is Redemption. He is not only the Restorer of ALL things; He is Restoration!

My tapestry has forever been changed here in Honduras~ I have learned all-consuming Love and felt complete security and protection in the No. 1 murder capital of the world. In this place of grave danger; I have come to know a Sanctuary, a Refuge, a Fortress, not our compound the Rose of Sharon in La Ceiba, but Almighty God. I've finally seen for the first time in my life how loved I really am! Or maybe not seen it, but the first time I've fully embraced this COMPLETE Love that's carried me my whole life!

In that embrace, I've found my purpose, my reason for being and I've grasped my significance in a whole new way. I feel more alive than I've ever felt before!

I can't say which moment it was or the people and the part they played; it's too hard to pinpoint. In actuality, it was each one . . . with all the thoughts, the emotions and revelations that played hand-to-glove to each grain of salt in the hourglass that is my life. Was it our lives, and MY life, being spared when the bus driver's foot got stuck on the gas pedal and floored our group's bus in reverse . . . and even though there were always four or five guys behind the bus to unload materials when we stopped . . . not ONE single person was behind it?  As soon as I stepped off the bus someone asked me if I wanted to play soccer. If that had not happened; I would've been right behind the bus!

Was it the kids, so starved for love, throwing caution to the wind and giving you the only thing they had to offer-- LOVE? Was it the way they were latching onto me like a long, lost friend as I slowly shuffled along because I had one kid in my arms and one clinging to my leg like a spider monkey thirty minutes after we landed? Was it seeing the look of hope, like a lighthouse to a sailor lost at sea in the middle of a storm, in their dim eyes? Was it hearing 40 percent of children in Honduras are sexually molested and usually by their own family members? Was it the anger those two numbers brought? Was it hearing 90 percent of Honduran birth certificates don't have their father's signature on them? Was it seeing kids who were receiving a new pair of Tom's (shoes)-- a luxury we often times overlook-- and seeing their faces light up like the Fourth of July? Was it seeing the children wearing clothes from the '80s because it is the only thing they have and shoes with soles coming apart . . . but their souls are FAR from coming apart?

Or was it watching a brother and sister, both five or six years old, beam from ear-to-ear after we gave them a couple of leftover pizza from Pizza Hut . . . getting the same response as if we gave someone a new car in America!?

Maybe it was faces filled with joy and happiness, like it was Field Day, because for them it was. Their laughter, smiles and silliness serving as the perfect reminder we were truly created as God's good pleasure and just how much He longs to see us happy! Or it could have been seeing members of another country opening their arms wide-open, receiving us with so much hospitality we felt like family. Was it the radiation, found deep in my spirit, which is only birthed by obedience? The sweet aroma of worship, which in any language smells the same? Was it watching six and seven-year-olds, filled with so many riches, lead worship you almost forgot you were in an impoverished village? Ot was it a papa pouring spirit-breathed wisdom into a young man the way a server refills a drink? Perhaps it playing with the kids on a playground. The frozen moment in time shared between a mother, who is his hero, and her son?

Was it playing chase with a kid, who desperately wants to be caught? A meal only prepared for special occasions because to them it was? Tears falling down a changed man's face because no words can suffice how he's feeling? A man's faith being rewarded by a woman, he has never even met, writing a $200,000 check to build his new orphanage? A grandson and his grandfather and the mutual respect, admiration and love shared between them? A young woman obedient and courageous enough to see to through fruition the vision the Dream Giver purposed in her heart and a loving husband who supported her each step of the way? A worship leader whose face reflects the joy, radiating from her spirit, filling the room with the warmth of His love?

Watching the meet take the pulpit with the ferocity, and bravery, of taking a bull by its horns and speaking Living Water from the childlike pool of sincerity that resides inside each our hearts? Witnessing a young man serving as an intercessor the same way Jesus does in Heaven with our Father, speaking his language-- one of knowledge and faith? The obedience of young people to exit the 'good life' for one they believe is better, leaving all their luxuries and families behind for the family God appointed? A big country boy, and his Mamacita, who is Papa to his kids only because he knows Papa (God), who even though he is building a 12,000 square foot compound if they were still in that 3-bedroom house would still give those toddlers enough love, guidance, hope and inspiration to fill a state bigger than Texas? 

Leaders obedient enough to let God direct their paths, faithful enough to follow through . . . even if it meant coming to the valley of the shadow of death!? People so hungry for God, so in love with Jesus, they are reading His word when they're not busy living it? A security guard and driver, who aren't just co-gatekeepers of our safety and protection, but who have also become part of our group and friends?

Yes, yes and yes! It was each one. In the same fashion of asking which promises God keeps, so has this trip contained threads destined to change the tapestries of our lives once and for all. Will we let them? Threads woven in perfect synchronization with the promises of God-- that He loves us wholly and relentlessly, that NOTHING can separate us from that Love, that He will never leave or forsake us, that ALL things work together for our good and that He has plans to prosper us and to give us a future!

And while I absolutely care what my life's tapestry will one day look like, what matters more is knowing the Weaver and knowing I am being woven!!

What are you allowing Him to weave today?

*** When we weave the thread; it will be ugly and not fit into the pattern. When the Lord weaves the thread; it will be beautiful, radiant and magnificent!! The beauty, and miracle, is God can and does make beauty from our ashes. Even when we refuse to let Him weave the thread; the way He fits it into our tapestry is still gorgeous! The Weaver works ALL things together for our good, but if He ONLY desires good for our lives . . . doesn't it make more sense to let HIM take the needle instead of holding onto it as if our lives depend on it because TRUE LIFE depends on the exact opposite-- LETTING GO***