Week 12 - A Seat at the Table

I recently had the pleasure of worshipping with the local Korean Baptist Church. It's a small community church, the kind where you don't need the lights turned down while you sing, and you share a meal afterward because that's where life happens and relationships are built. It was a sweet time. As I was sitting there eating all kinds of great food I was reminded of how fortunate I was to have a seat at the table. A few weeks ago I was giving a presentation to a group of people who sat on a county board. When I walked in the general manager said, "let me get you a chair", then they proceeded to pull one of the chairs away from the conference room table. This was to be my chair. This was to be where I was going to sit. All of which was correct and as it should be. I was not on the board. I did not and should not have a voice in the matters being discussed at that table. Yet, as I was sitting there I felt God telling me, "you have a seat at My table, and no one can roll it away."

So there I was sitting at a table of believers. A glimpse of what is to come. All tribes. All tongues. All nations. I had a seat at the table and it meant the world to me.

Week 11 - Spring

We're officially in Spring and I have mixed feelings about that. I love that the wildflowers are showing themselves and the landscape is greening up. New life seems to be all around us. Feelings of hope and newness. The days are getting longer, and thanks to Daylight Savings Time, the sun sticks around later in the evenings. Even still, I know what this means. The heat is on its way. Soak up every moment you can. This is Texas, the heat of summer is guaranteed.

Week 10 - Sunrises

I have a bit of a ritual at work. Nearly every morning I pour myself a cup of piping hot coffee. I walk out the side door, the side facing the Radar, and I look out toward the east and watch as the sunrise colors the sky and clouds. I'm soaking up these mornings. They are fleeting now, now that we're in March and the days continue to grow longer, and warmer. I take a deep breath; I love the smell of the cold, damp air. What I wouldn't give to have a forest of pine nearby. How fragrant that would make the experience. In a few short months, the weather will turn hot and these crisp mornings with dew on the grass will be just a memory. It's times like these that it's important to be present and enjoy the moment.

Week 9 - Sheppard’s Purse

When I was a young boy, I noticed this plant that would appear year around February. It made up of  what I believed were hundreds of little hearts. I thought God made it for me because my Birthday was in February and what's more, it was on Valentine's Day.  Every year I would look for them, as if God were saying Happy Birthday. Even into adulthood, I'd see these plants with hundreds of hearts and feel a fond affection for my Creator and marvel at His attention to detail.  Then I was told by a "well-meaning" friend that those are not hearts, the plant is called Sheppard's Purse, and it also grew in January as well, so it couldn't have been for my Birthday. I lovingly told my "well-meaning" friend where they could stick their "fun fact". I also told them that they are actually hearts, that Jesus loves me, and I think I'm His favorite.

Week 8 - The Passion of God's People

Occasionally, as I walk through this world, I come across people who give of themselves and their time, and their love and their passion so fully that it's staggering. And then they give some more, and you know that it can only be the love of the King and the gifts of the Spirit that could drive someone to do such things so unconditionally.

I was given these kitchen utensils for my Birthday. They were hand made. They were the first ones. They rest on a cutting board made by the same loving and giving hands. The proceeds for all of these wonderful items and more fuel the passion of those who are called to be on mission. Beautiful are the feet that carry the Good News of Jesus Christ, and beautiful are the hands that help them.

Week 7 - Coffee

My appreciation for coffee didn't start until after my induction into the National Weather Service...and shift work. I knew I was in for a caffeinated life when, on my first day at work, they asked me if I was a cold caffeine or hot caffeine drinker. Not water, not fruit juice, just a very general “what temperature do you take your caffeine?"

I'd always enjoyed the smell of coffee but could never get past the bitter taste. I masked the bitterness with hot chocolate mix, then moved on the cream and sugar, then got away with just cream. I could never make it past that to the mythical "black as night" coffee. You know, the kind spoke of in hushed whispers by the cooler or drunk by lifeless coworkers on midnight shifts. Turns out there's a reason it was bitter. It wasn't made correctly.

Then it happened. My friend David moved in. Not only did my productivity tank on Saturday mornings (he's really good conversation), but I was shown how coffee is supposed to be made. That morning I drank black coffee. I tasted a little bitterness, then it passed, making way for the flood of flavors that quickly followed. It was rich and full, sparking memories of mornings with my grandparents, and rainy afternoons.  I've been drinking it that way ever since.

Week 6 - 34

I turned 34 today. If I’m honest, I never thought I’d make it this far. If I were really honest, I didn’t think I would make it to 14, let alone 34. I certainly don’t feel my age. No, I feel closer to 64. Everything hurts and I’m dying. Yet here I am, pushing on.

During my short time on this earth, so far, I’ve always felt behind the curve. Have you ever felt that way? Like I’m trying to build a skyscraper and I’ve only got the blueprints for the basement and the lobby...and the bathrooms are missing. No matter how many self-help books I read or YouTube tutorials I watch, I'm in this perpetual mode of waiting for the next aha moment when everything falls into place. In fact, my life can be marked by distinct moments when, as if a higher power was involved, someone turned a light on and I suddenly understood. Here are a few of those moments when God flipped the switch and gave me new understanding. (If you're looking for a short blog entry you can stop here. Thanks for popping in. I really do appreciate it.)

The first light came on at Austin Community College when I realized I wasn’t as amazing as I thought I was.

The second came after a short mission trip to Bolivar Penisula to clean up after Hurricane Ike. My friend Starla mentioned that I seemed different, happier. I was. God had turned on the light of my faith, which produced good works.

The third and one of the brightest came in Austin at an event called Impact. A 4-day training by Reinvent Ministries. I metaphorically ripped off the bandage that covered my wounds. I scrubbed them clean, and those wounds began to heal in ways I’d never known before. The pain of that process was rough, but like everything in life, the higher the cost the greater the reward. There were certainly people there who decided not to pay the same price I did, and they left with less reward and probably kept some of there wounds. I found my voice during those 4 days. I learned I had worth, and how my actions in life affect those around me. This was one of the biggest lights.

The fourth light, and the last so far, came while I was in Jasper, Alberta. I was leaning against the railing of a deck that overlooked a valley to the east. The imposing and majestic mountains stretched for miles, while thin clouds cascaded down around them. It was in that moment that I thought to myself, I miss San Angelo. It had become my home. I wasn't missing the extreme heat of the summers, or the water, which has its own flavor, but those people who had become my community. That has been my guiding light thus far, the importance, no the necessity of being in a community. Being known.

I feel this will be a great year! Thanks for sticking with me. This was a long one.