Both my grandparents and aunt & uncle own next door trailers on a small fishing lake, near Terre Haute, Ind. My mom & stepdad bought my grandparents trailer last fall, so we all decided to go down there over Memorial Day weekend. Though we've been eating fish out of that lake for almost 20 years, this was the first time in probably over 5 years that almost all our family has been down there at the same time: parents, siblings, aunt & uncle, cousins - just not our grandparents or one other cousin this time.

Caught almost a dozen fish over the weekend, most keepers, and I'll go ahead and brag - a bass that was the biggest caught over the weekend. Baylee and I went on her first boat ride and she helped me fish some. She fearlessly held both a worm and a fish. We all stayed up around the fire till past midnight talking & laughing, and also partook in the family tradition of playing Phase 10.

Tuesday before we left I was on the dock with Baylee for a last time. While basking in how much fun the weekend had been and also reminicing of other times standing on the same dock, a real weight came on me: the weight of time. I didn't realize how heavy something could be that you can't hold in your hand.

The weight of the past. All of my memories of the trailer are positive and special, and they bring me immense joy thinking about them. But what was heavy to me is what is obvious: I can't relive many of them. Sure I can still fish down there again...but never again with my grandpa. I dropped my glasses in the lake this past weekend...but it wasn't the same hilarious family experience as when my grandpa did it years ago. It's the same when you're remembering life after you see high school, college, or old church friends on Facebook. How many times in our lives have we been in a moment with friends or family and thought, "I hope this moment never ends." Yeah, they all did. You just can't TIVO the past, rewind & relive...and knowing that to be true doesn't mean it doesn't suck any less.

The weight of the future. Driving home up 41, sharing with Jeannette about being on the dock with Baylee, we started talking about the future as well. We'll be 50 when Baylee is 18, 60 when she's 28. I want more time with her than that! Only God knows if we'll even have that much time with her. It's a pretty heavy thought to wonder if someday you'll get to hold your 2 year old's 2 year old.

All this heaviness wasn't/shouldn't be about saddness, for me it was about necessary clarity.

I've been waking up earlier these last couple days to get to my work and get it done, so I can be home a little earlier. A two year old who doesn't want to go to bed hasn't been that big of a deal. Still frustrating, but a frustration that I know I need to cherish.

Like pressure on coal to make a diamond, the weight of the past & future give the necesary focus needed for the present.

From a drive I had late at night last week, the below Chris Rice song has been stuck in my head. Didn't know I'd be grasping it's message over Memorial Day weekend, as it pretty much encompasses what hit me on the dock standing there with Baylee:

Life Means So Much:
Everyday is a journal page
Every man holds a quill and ink
And there’s plenty of room for writing in
All we do and believe and think
So will you compose a curse
Or will today bring the blessings
Fill the page with rhyming verse
Or some random sketchings

Teach us to count the days
Teach us to make the days count
Lead us in better ways
Somehow our souls forgot
Life means so much
Life means so much
Life means so much

Everyday is a bank account
And time is our currency
So no one’s rich, nobody’s poor
We get twenty-four hours each
So how are you gonna spend
Will you invest or squander
Try to get ahead
Or help someone who’s under

Has anybody lived who knew the value of a life?
And don’t you think giving his own
Would prove the worth of yours and mine?

Teach us to count the days
Teach us to make the days count
Lead us in better ways
Somehow our souls forgot
Life means so much
Life means so much
Life means so much

A question I get periodically was asked again last night, "How do you read so many books?" The simplest explanation is that I love to read, it's one of my favorite things to do. Beyond that though, here's some practical things that might help someone read more:

- Pick books you'll enjoy. What might seem like a "duh" is actually a big reason why, I think, people don't enjoy reading: the books they've read aren't enjoyable to them. Maybe your high school teacher wouldn't let up on Shakespeare and you just abhorred it, so you have this nervous twitch that kicks in whenever you see any book because you're afraid of "to be or not to be." Reading isn't supposed to feel like a homework assignment, it's something that's meant to be enjoyed. Leave the wounds from your high school English teacher in the past and find a book YOU want to read because YOU'RE choosing to read it.

- Think correctly about reading. Reading is not a mere leisure activity. For some reading is actually part of their work's training/development. Obviously you shouldn't read for the whole day, and equally important, you should have your boss' approval. But to take a short block of time each day or a couple times a week should actually be expected and shouldn't bring a false sense of guilt that you are wasting time. It's called sharpening your skills. If you're in ministry, read books about ministry; if you're a teacher, read books about teaching; and so on.

- Make time for it. If you want to read more then you have to establish some type of rhythm in your week for when you are going to read. If I'm not having lunch with anyone then I read while I'm eating, I also read later at night when the rest of the family goes to bed. For you it might be cutting out a TV show, early in the morning, or an hour at a coffeeshop in the evening. But if it takes time to read then you have to make the time.

- Carry a book with you all the time. How often do you wait in line? How often do you wait period? I hate wasting time, and awhile back I figured out that it was my choice whether waiting time became wasted time. I started carrying a paperback around with me wherever I went. A few pages can be read while waiting in line at the grocery story and probably a whole chapter sitting in the doctor's office. If you ride the train a lot in Chicago then you're being handed blocks of time to read - so why not have a book with you? Don't waste time staring at walls or the back of peoples' heads when you could get through some pages.

- Listen to Audio books. How often you wait in line is one thing, but think about how much time you spend in the car, especially if you commute. To not get stressed out in gridlock I began listening to unabridged audiobooks. Unabridged means that someone is reading a novel word for word as it is in the hardcopy of the book. If I'm alone in the car I have an audiobook on, and I probably listen to two a month on average. A lot of libraries have unabridged books on CD that you can check out. I get mine through a subscription to audbile.com.

- Read a variety of things. Read fiction and read non-fiction, read older authors and read newer authors, read authors whose ideas you agree with and also those whose you don't. Book options shouldn't be treated like the same old menu item you resort to - books are like a buffet: the options change all the time and you can take whatever you want. I'm going to blog about this another time, but I don't think it's beneficial to only read one particular type of book. Balance is the key. At any given time I have a non-fiction book (normally what I read during the day) and a fiction book (read at night) that I'm reading (plus my audio book).

- Connect and discuss with others. When you run into someone who is or has read the same book you've read it can bring about an amazing conversation. Shared observations, insights, and meaninful reflections make it more than just a a good book you've read - it becomes a deeper connection with another person. Plus, if you are stuck as to what to read the best place to start is to ask someone what good books they've read. Just seeing them on the shelf I probably would have never read any books by Orson Scott Card. But, a friend of mine who knows I like fantasy highly recommended him to me and explained why he liked his books so much. Since that conversation a few years ago I've probably read over 15 books by Card and he's now one of my favorite authors.

Other than the above, the only other really big thing I could say is that you need to make reading your own thing. Don't compare your reading preferences and speed to others. I read on average 50 books a year and from a wide variety of topics and authors. I know of some people who read more than me and some who read less. Regardless, none of that should matter to you. If you only read 1 book a month that is AWESOME! Connect with others because of books, but don't think you have to become others. Just read, and enjoy it.

So go buy a good book and find some time to enjoy it. If you need ideas, the books I'm reading, have recently read, and my favorites are on the left side of the blog a little ways down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On Thursday April 23rd at 7:00 pm, New Life Community Church's Oak Forest location will be hosting a free simulcast event called Town Hall for Hope. This event will connect families across the nation for a truly radical perspective regarding our current economic times: HOPE.

Tired of hearing the fear, doom and gloom that’s filling the airwaves? Join Dave Ramsey personal money-management expert, popular national radio personality and best-selling author of The Total Money Makeover, for a live nationwide town hall meeting and discover what’s happening with today’s economy, how we got here, and where we’re going. Plus, Dave will answer your questions throughout live simulcast!

Ramsey knows first-hand what financial peace means in his own life, living a true rags-to-riches-to-rags-to-riches story. By age twenty-six he had established a four-million-dollar real estate portfolio, only to lose it by age thirty. He has since rebuilt his financial life and now devotes himself full-time to helping ordinary people understand the forces behind their financial distress and how to set things right-financially, emotionally and spiritually.

The event starts broadcasting at 7pm, so show up a little early.  Send questions to newlife.oakforest@gmail.com

New Life Oak Forest is at 5333 151st St, Oak Forest, IL 60452

One of my favorite books of the Bible is Leviticus. The following two paragraphs are from Leviticus 16 which is is about the Day of Atonement:

7 Then he must take the two male goats and present them to the Lord at the entrance of the Tabernacle. 8 He is to cast sacred lots to determine which goat will be reserved as an offering to the Lord and which will carry the sins of the people to the wilderness of Azazel. 9 Aaron will then present as a sin offering the goat chosen by lot for the Lord. 10 The other goat, the scapegoat chosen by lot to be sent away, will be kept alive, standing before the Lord. When it is sent away to Azazel in the wilderness, the people will be purified and made right with the Lord.

20 “When Aaron has finished purifying the Most Holy Place and the Tabernacle and the altar, he must present the live goat. 21 He will lay both of his hands on the goat’s head and confess over it all the wickedness, rebellion, and sins of the people of Israel. In this way, he will transfer the people’s sins to the head of the goat. Then a man specially chosen for the task will drive the goat into the wilderness. 22 As the goat goes into the wilderness, it will carry all the people’s sins upon itself into a desolate land.

The Day of Atonement was the day when the sins of God's people would be forgiven for the next year. A goat was chosen by chance to be the carrier of all of those sins - taking them away from the people into the land of nothing, the desert.

Today is Good Friday.
Today is a remembrance of the final necessary Day of Atonement.
Today is the day when Jesus became my scapegoat.

It wasn't by the roll of the dice, He wasn't chosen by a lottery in heaven. It wasn't a choice between Jesus and one of the angels. The Father chose to provide His Son. And Jesus willingly became the goat.

My goat.

That's the deep thing for me. It would be one thing if I had already committed all of my sins. You know, I was in the courtroom, the evidence was proven that I had done something, a verdict was given, and Jesus says - "I'll take the fall." But when He died on the cross - I hadn't even done anything yet!

"You know Jesus, there's millions upon millions of people who haven't even been born yet - and you'll be dying for all their mess ups too. You'll be their scapegoat too."

And He did it. He WILLINGLY did it.

Back in the Old Testament times when the Day of Atonement was happening, it was probably a quiet, somber moment as that goat walked into the desert. A mixed moment of regret as they were seeing themselves represented in that goat, but also joy as it walked away into the desert - carrying their evils away with it. It's walking away with their junk made it possible for them to stand before God in peace.

Today is should be just like that as well.

I think of what Jesus did. And all of my mess - the details which define my mess, the things people can point to and things I'm glad people don't know, the things which in essence show me to be an evil, selfish person - all of that He put on himself. He willingly, lovingly put all of that on Himself!

And He carried it all away from me into the desert.

Like a scapegoat.

I sit here in peace before God today because Jesus became a scapegoat for me. I really can't begin to put that reality into words. I just know that it makes be feel stupid when I think of the fact I still mess up. I mean...what do you do with that?

He knew I'd still act like an idiot and He still died for me!

As the people of God looked at that goat walking into the desert, I'm sure pondering the meaning and reality of what it was doing - take time to look into history and see our scapegoat...walking into the desert for us.

Let that sink in.

Scapegoat Friday.

Thank you Jesus.

When I was in youth group we had two awesome youth volunteers, Phil & Molly Stewart. Their daughter Melissa was around my sisters age and was starting in youth group when I was in college at Moody doing an internship with our youth pastor Mike. Melissa and I have recently reconnected via Facebook. Today she shared an amazing story about her life's journey that I want to share with whomever will read it. It is amazing and would be well worth your time! Here is Melissa's story, which she entitles, 'The Pursuit of Happiness":

We live in country whose constitution acknowledges a pursuit of happiness. The constitution guarantees our rights of life and liberty, but only a pursuit of happiness; not a guarantee of happiness, but a right to pursue it. My story will recount how I spent the past 24 years pursuing happiness.

I started attending church when I was three years old. I was very lucky and blessed to be raised in a Christian home with Christian parents who raised me with Christian ideals from infancy. I was saved when I was 8 years old, and baptized when I was 12. As a young child, I was active in the Awana program. I memorized bible verses, witnessed to other children on playgrounds, sang worships songs while riding arond town running errands with my mom. As I grew older, I became active in the church youth group. I attended Christian bible camps in the summer, I participated in events such as the 30 hour famine, and enjoyed fellowshipping with other Christians on youth group retreats. During this time as a child, I pursued happiness while pursing God, and I was greatly rewarded.

If I were to pinpoint a certain time in my life when that pursuit of happiness took a drastic turn for the worse, it would be the very first weekend of my freshman year of high school. I got drunk for the first time. This opened a whole new area of opportunities for me to pursue happiness. I spent most of my high school days trying to figure out how to become more popular. I was consumed by vanity and self-fulfillment. My pursuit of happiness during these four years led to me being arrested at 16 for minor consumption, experimentation with eating disorders in a desperate attempt to stay thin and pretty, and a broken and battered heart from boys that used me because I allowed myself to be promiscuous. Needless to say I failed miserably at pursuing happiness at this time.

But I moved on. I enrolled in college. The first year I was enrolled at Indiana University we were voted "the number one party school in the country." It's true, I had a t-shirt stating that fact, and I wore it proudly. It was at IU, that I continued to practice the art of binge drinking, pushing myself to dangerous and near-deadly limits. I started smoking weed and cigarrettes. I thought promiscuity equaled popularity, and I desperately wanted to be popular and well-liked. In my search of popularity, I joined a sorority. I surrounded myself with girls who told me that I was nothing but the designers that I wore. Soon, I began resenting my parents for not being rich enough to provide me with the desinger jeans and handbags I needed to really "fit in" with my surroundings. Since I couldn't fit in with my "sisters" I escaped it. I discovered the joy of roadtripping: packing our bags, and packing a car, full of eager girls, in search of the next great adventure, usually a concert. As if this literal esacpe from reality weren't enough, while on these roadtrips, I would drink heavily, smoke heavily, and try to prove that I was someone. I thought that the more famous people I met, I would somehow become famous by default. Sadly, this is not the case. During my years of pursuing happiness at IU, I was rescued from being blacked out drunk in the middle of the street by some guy I barely knew. Just a few weeks later, I woke up in an emergency room in Cleveland, Ohio after nearly dying from alcohol poisoning. I failed so miserably trying to pursue happiness during these years that I thought my life was no longer worth living. I was found on the bathroom floor of my sorority trying to end it all. I didn't succeed in ending my life, but I succeeding in ending my time 'studying' at Indiana University.

I transfered schools to Indiana University Northwest so that I could move back in with my family, and get my life back on track. The one thing that was missing from the equation was God. I left his side some years ago, and strayed so far away, I wasn't sure how to get back. I thought that when I moved home, I'd start attending church again regularly, and somehow all would be right again. This isn't exactly how it happened. While I was going to school full time, and working full time in a retail job, I also got a side job working in a bar on the weekends. This bar was the reason I continued to binge drink, and smoke, and flirt with guys while flirting with disaster. I was usually too hungover to attend church with my parents on Sundays. Sometime during my senior year of college, my mom was diagnosed with cancer. adenoid cystic carcinoma. a-d-e-n-o-i-d-c-y-s-t-i-c-c-a-r-c-i-n-o-m-a. I can spell it because I used to type it into google every single day of my life, and read all of these web pages about this very rare form of cancer. This is what I translated: "your mom is most likely going to die. Your mom is probably going to die. Your mom is definetely going to die." You see my mom, wasn't just the woman who gave birth to me. She was my best friend, sometimes my only friend, she was my lifeline, my rock, my support group, she is the reason I'm even around to have a story to tell today. My mom couldn't die. No way. I could not survive without her. So I started bargaining with God. I made every promise to him under the sun. I prayed so hard, all day, every day, and made him promises I knew I'd never fulfill. He knew that too. Because as soon as I got done praying, I'd go right back to the bar, and start taking shots to get nice and drunk, so I no longer remembered my mom was even sick. Somehow, through all of this, by the grace of God, I graduated college. Shortly thereafter, my mom's cancer went into remission. She's been cancer free for two years now. Praise the Lord.

Amazing testimony to hear!  I pray it was an encouragement to you, because it sure was to me!

The Moss fam is sick right now. Baylee, our 2-year old, had an ear infection for a couple days, but that flowed into fever and being lethargic for the last 3-4 days. She's coming off of it, but it's been hard on her. Now, Jeannette & I are following in her footsteps, not with ear infections but with the cold. I guess we've been going overboard on the sharing lessons lately.

Monday & Tuesday Baylee had a really high fever. She was a walking space heater. I came home Monday from church/Moody and she was just laying in the bed, whimpering and sniffling. I knelt by her and asked, "What can daddy do Baylee?" She didn't say anything. Just sniffled.

"Do you want some water?" From laying on her side with her head jammed in the pillow, not even looking at me, only her mouth moved, "No."
"Do you want me to rub your back?" "No."
"Do you want something to eat?" "No."
"Do you want Floppy (her bunny)?" "No."

"Well what do you want daddy to do baby?"

She finally turned, looked at me, sat up, sniffled, and then said, "Hold me daddy."

No good father would need to think for a second on that one.

So I laid in bed with her and held her. "Held her tight" as we say, for probably over an hour. She eventually fell asleep, but I still had her next to me, holding her.

I won't always be able to do that, and I hate that truth with intensity. She's 2 now, but when she's 25 and sick I don't think she'll be asking me to hold her. She'll maybe ask me what medicine to take or what she needs to do. That is a good thing - she'll need to know how to take care of herself at 25. But in my heart as her daddy I know I'll want to just hold her. So for now...I'll hold her any chance I can get.

I think that the fact I'm sick right now coupled with thinking about holding Baylee has made me realize a truth about my relationship with God.

When I first came to know Him I always asked for His involvement, His help. I was a young, toddler follower who constantly said "Hold me." It was all about what He would and could do, and I ran to Him for it.

Now that I've been on this journey for almost 20 years now, I'm more apt to ask Him what He wants me to do. "God, how can I fix it?" "What's your advise God?" "Where do you want me to go?" All good questions and after 20 years of following Him I hope that I've matured and am somewhat able to do a few things on my own.

That being said, God is indeed our Father - and a good father, not the jerk kind that probably over 50% of our society thinks of when they hear that noun. He is THE father, and any natural feelings I have as a father or of how a father should be can in part be traced back as echoes of who He is.

I'm not the only father who wants to hold his kids.

So, with the things I'm going through right now I will indeed ask God for His direction, His guidance, and His help. After all this time - I better.

But first and foremost I will now return to being a child, I will embrace His heart, and I will pray, "Hold me daddy."

And I realize now, that is the prayer He's been wishing I would pray.

Last night Jeannette & I took a CPR class geared toward children & infants. There was no certification, but apparently the information was the same. I was impressed with how simple of a process everything was. The American Heart Association does a great job with the training class, called "Friends and Family," and we had a really good teacher. The thing we talked about on the way home was why more people don't learn something that is both so simple and so important. Busyness is obvious - as it was our excuse for the two years we've put off doing it since we first learned about the class. Or maybe just not realizing the ease and necessity. In my opinion it was worth the time (one 3hr class). Hope I'll never have to use, but I understand how to now if necessary.

Not your typically "church" post here, but something I think is very important for all of us.  If you've never taken a CPR class, check with your local school or hospital to see if they can provide information as to when and where classes are.

I'm really looking forward to Ignite this year. 

 For the new-to-New Life or the non-New Life'er, Ignite is New Life's annual one-day training conference for our church.  Throughout the day there are various sessions and work-shops helping people to be better prepared for serving in ministry.  We mention every Sunday that New Life has 12 locations throughout the Chicagoland area, but there's an amazing spiritual depth that we get to participate in when people from all 12 locations come together for one purpose: how can we together be better for Jesus and our city?  Last year's Ignite was the first large event I'd attended for the church.  I remember calling Jeannette on the way home to say, "this is the church we need to be a part of."  It's a time for us to celebrate, it's a time for us to become better at what we do, and it's a time for us to expand the vision in our hearts for Chicago. 

If you can be at Ignite then you need to be at Ignite!  Mark down the date!

Amongst the many that I have, one of my favorite childhood memories is going to my grandparents house for Christmas Eve. We knew there would be a lot of food. We knew there would be a lot of presents. We knew we got to hang out with the family. Specifically, we knew we would be able to be with Nana & Papa. We saw them all of the time, multiple times a week sometimes - but Christmas is obviously special.

I've been fortunate to have had many positive role models in my life. My grandfather is one of the best. A northwest Indiana iron-worker who loved his family as hard as he worked to provide for them. There wasn't anyone more fun to hang out with. We have pictures of him hunting and also original paintings he has done. His significance in my life and in who I am can't be explained, and he will always be one of my heroes. So obviously- Christmas is a special time to be with him.

Over the last 7-8 years my Papa - that's what I call him - has been suffering from small strokes. Each one is a scary ordeal in which we wonder if we'll have to say good-bye. He has fought through each one like the iron-worker he is - but the reality is that the strokes have had their toll, causing him to suffer from Alzheimer's. He now has to stay in bed most of the time and needs help with most everything.

To say this has been hard on our family would be an understatement. My Nana & him celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary this past November - so how can it not be hard.

He has always been one of the funniest people I know and any bit of sense of humor that I or anyone in my family has was inherited from him. He always joked with us. For example, the last time he was in the hospital a nurse came in and asked him if he was OK. His answer, "No, I'm Bob." Most every nurse who has cared for him would with an affectionate smile tell the family - "He is a very funny man."

A couple weeks ago my mom called me and told me about something he said or did, I honestly can't remember what it was. What I do remember was that it had to do with him being confused with something that happened. The way that he responded was apparently indeed funny, and my mom and Nana were laughing and joking with him about it. Relating the story to me my mom said, "You have to laugh about things - how could we handle it if we didn't."

And that's when I realized that for all my life Papa has been preparing all of us for how to cope with what he is dealing with. He taught us to laugh.

Not to laugh at him or at what he's going through, but to be able to find some sense of joy in the midst of the trial. He's still Papa - and we can still laugh with him.

This past Christmas we all gathered around his bed downstairs to take a picture with him. It was the culmination of a great Christmas Eve day.

A day in which I was able to hold his hand while we talked some and joked some.

A day when we got him upstairs and he was able to eat with all of us.

A day in which we all laughed - joked - and poked fun at each other.

And to be able to do all of that that this year was one of the best Christmas presents ever.

Being new to the NL team, I've teased the rest of the guys about how often everyone uses the word bro. 

"Hey, bro!"
"How you doing, bro?"
"Good to see you, bro!"
"Good job bro!"
"Praying for you bro!"

I'm not used to the general title and it's funny to hear people use such a common word so often, without really realizing it.  Right, dude?  

Over the short time I've been able to interact with the leaders here, I'm seeing more and more that this isn't just a flippantly used cliché.  It's a bonding word – it's a relational word that concisely gets to the deep relationship these men have.  Someone in a meeting a couple weeks ago said it was a "brotherhood."  This explains why some of the guys like the Lord of the Rings "Fellowship" so much.  Monday morning's pastoral meeting is like a weekly gathering of the Council of Elrond.

This brotherhood isn't just something interesting to observe, it's a privledge to be apart of.  I feel a deep sense of honor knowing I am member of this brotherhood now, part of this Fellowship.  Not as much history as some - but definitly just as much a bro.