Reading Time: 2 minutes

Since last night, I’ve roasted marshmallows, played hide and seek and had a pillow fight.  I’ve been in prison, tamed lions and saved killer whales who were friendly and had fallen overboard. There have been bears who walk, pillows who talk, and lots of laughter.  I’ve been a tickle monster, a gold medal champion and a poopyhead.

In fact, the only way I was able to get away to post this to the blog was by swallowing a magic pill that made me invisible to the prison guards.  But I won’t have long, because the potion isn’t very strong and I can hear the footsteps of the munchkins coming.

So, from a location deep in the imagination of a child’s mind, let me challenge you – no, I triple dog dare you:

Grow up, but never grow old.

Sometimes as we age we get cranky and crusty.  We get set in our ways and stuck in our routines, and so we read words in the Bible about how Jesus calls us to childlike faith and we shrug our shoulders, furrow our brows and mumble something under our breath about childish behavior.

I refuse.  I want to mature without becoming a miser.  I want to grow in stature without becoming a statue.  I want to grow up still full of wonder instead of growing old just full of thunder.

There are things that we probably shouldn’t do as an adult that we did as kids.  Running into a room full of people and pulling your shirt up over your head is cute as a kid, but it could get you some unwanted attention as an adult.  But to grow up and still live the kind of fearless life that would never worry about what others might think before taking a risk?  That’s what I want.

When my almost 3 year-old nephew woke up at 6:04 am today, I heard him talking even though there wasn’t anyone in his room to talk to (because all the others crazy ones were camping out in the living room).  When I went to investigate, I found he wasn’t alone.  There were 2 lions, a bear, a fish and a killer whale all on the bed with him.  You could tell him they weren’t real, but I don’t think he would have believed you.  There is something about this that must move God, because He also, from time to time, looks at things and sees them differently than other people.  He once looked at a valley of bones and saw and army.  He looked at enemies and saw broken people who needed forgiveness.  He looked at you – and me – and saw value when others saw none.

This unrelenting desire to see the world as a playground or as a giant laboratory in which to perform countless experiments is a childlike quality that you and I must refuse to ever grow out of if we’re to see the fullness of what God wants to do in us.

We will all grow up, but we do not all have to grow old.

Give me, I pray, the heart of a child so that I might know the love of my Father.  A Father who relishes the risky and applauds the audacious and who catches us when we try and fail and inspires us to try, imagine, and risk again.

Now, I beg you, I must take my leave.  The potion has worn off and the guards are coming.  It won’t be long before they find me and take me back to pris

 

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Once, I drove 7 hours to see Wendy for 10 minutes.  I didn’t mean for that to happen, but it did, mostly because of how much I love her and a little because of how much I misread the map.  It all started when I said yes to speaking at a big youth retreat that was actually small.

When you’re on the road and your livelihood comes from speaking, it’s important that you actually speak, and when you get a call to come to a retreat center in the bottom right corner of Tennessee and to a rowdy roomful of teenagers, you say yes.  Which is exactly what I did.  (Small side note: it was at this same retreat that I got to meet the band Tenth Avenue North before they hit it big. Great band, better people.)

What I didn’t know at the time was that Wendy’s side of the family was also planning a pretty big event: a surprise 80th birthday party for Wendy’s Grandma.  We got the invitation a little bit after I had already said yes to the retreat, and since I’d given them my word (and my family likes to eat and pay bills and stuff like that), we both knew that I was going to miss the big surprise that was going to happen on the same Saturday as the retreat.

It was one of those times when you wish you could have super powers that would allow you to be in 2 places at once or have supersonic speed.  Having neither, I got in the car and made the long drive to Cross Creek Camp in Copperhill, Tennessee, as my wife made the trip to Campobello, South Carolina (in the South, we’re nothing if not great namers of towns).

When I arrived, I checked the retreat schedule.  I was to speak Friday night, Saturday morning, Saturday night and Sunday morning.  Suddenly, I had a plan.  The surprise 80th birthday party was happening around lunch on Saturday, and I was free from 9 until 5, why not add one more surprise to the party by showing up? Since I was in the most southeastern part of Tennessee and the party was in the most northwestern part of South Carolina, how far apart could they possibly be, right?

Turns out, about 3 and a half hours.  Forget superpowers, I’d settle for better map reading ability!  Not being able to Google directions, I actually had to look at a map that you fold, and while a couple of inches looks like it wouldn’t take long, don’t be fooled.  An inch of mountain roads takes forever.

Around 2 hours into the “Great Surprise of 2006,” I did some time calculations and realized that I  would arrive at the party long enough to say hey to Wendy, her family and her Grandma before grabbing some punch and heading back in order to be there for my next speaking engagement.  And that’s how I ended up driving 7 hours on winding mountain roads to spend 10 minutes with a wife who couldn’t stop smiling.

I’d say my plan worked out perfectly.

We talk a lot about the depths of love, but it’s hard to really see stuff that goes deep because, well, it’s deep and hidden.  But the lengths of love are how the depths of love are displayed, and there’s no better day to remember that than on Good Friday.

It’s an odd name for a sad day.  It was on this day that Jesus went to the cross to die a death He never deserved so that He could offer us a life we never deserved.  It was the culmination of a long journey that began when He left a pretty good seat in heaven to make the long winding journey to a stable in Bethlehem that eventually led Him to Calvary.  It was a lot of traveling for a very short payoff, especially since the people He drove to see – unlike my smiling, surprised bride – celebrated Him by killing Him.  And yet, if you had asked Jesus, my guess is that He would have said the plan worked out perfectly, too.

Love goes far when love runs deep, and you and I were worth the distance to Jesus.  In fact, He wouldn’t have had it any other way, and while I drove 7 hours in a car because I can’t read maps, Jesus made His journey already having counted the cost.

There’s only one explanation for a love like that.

You and I were worth it.

 

Reading Time: 5 minutes

I wear a lot of hats and answer to a lot of titles, but few are worn more proudly and answered to more quickly than dad.  Being a dad is heart-wrenching and heart-warming.  It provides craziness and clarity.  Loving my kids and trying to faithfully raise them reveals my weaknesses and also the strength that comes from God in those weaknesses.  It is the toughest job and the highest calling, and while there are many brilliant dads out there with degrees in counseling and psychology, I’m not one of them.  I’m just a regular guy trying to raise 2 sons and a daughter while still getting his dirty clothes off the floor.

This week, my daughter has been sick.  At times, while she’s been on the couch or in the bed sleeping, I’ve watched her and thought about how quickly she’s growing up.  I’ve thought about our Valentine’s Day date, our tea parties and our bedtime dances.  I’ve also thought about things that I want her to know deep down in her soul.   This isn’t meant to be an exhaustive list, but here are 4 things that I pray my daughter never forgets:

1. The beauty that captivates me can’t be captured.

We live in a culture that is camera crazy.  We shoot videos, take selfies and even take group selfies called “ussies.”  We’re so camera crazy that we’ve invented the term “ussie” which is beyond stupid and should never be uttered out loud.  We duck face, fish lip, and try almost anything to get noticed by a lens somehow in hopes of making it big somewhere.  We hold up models on the cover of magazines as models of who we should be.  We dress like them, talk like them, walk like them, and at times, throw up our food after we’ve eaten like them.  We’re obsessed with outward appearance, and you don’t need to be.

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. (1 Peter 3:3-4)

In fact, when I stop and watch you, the beauty that I see in you that captivates me is a beauty far deeper than any lens will ever see.  It comes from a heart filled with joy, with grace, with life.  It bubbles up and overtakes a bad hair day.  It spills out in a real life LOL – the kind when your mouth spreads so wide it almost hurts and you think you might look silly but you don’t care.  The real beauty – the kind that the Bible speaks about in 1 Peter 3:4 – never fades and can’t be overcome by acne.

You’re beautiful when you dress up and when you dress down, because YOU are beautiful.  And your dad is captivated by it.

[Tweet “True beauty comes from a heart filled with joy, with grace and with life.”]

2. Don’t chase a fairy tale; create one.

All around you the culture is screaming for you to do whatever it takes to find love. From reality shows to articles in magazines about how to find your prince charming, you’re being bombarded with a very dangerous message: fairy tales are true. But they aren’t, at least not the way we think of them.

For starters, they don’t just happen. This isn’t a 2 hour chick flick.  This is real life, and in real life there isn’t a soul mate out there whose existence will magically make love easy.  Loving someone and being loved by someone requires a lot more than an orchestrated soundtrack and a computer-generated sunset to walk into.  It takes 2 imperfect people learning to love each other toward perfection, and that takes the real 4 letter word that a lot of people aren’t willing to do: W-O-R-K.

Fairy tales don’t come true because you meet your soul mate. They come true because you fall in love with your mate’s soul.

[Tweet “Fairy tales aren’t about meeting your soul mate, but about falling in love with your mate’s soul.”]

So don’t fall for the lie that fairy tales just happen. They don’t. But you can have one if you’re willing to go all-in over a lifetime to love one person deeply, honestly, and, well, soul-ly. Do that, and more than likely, someday you’ll find yourself looking into the eyes of someone who sees you – the real you – as he whispers the words from Song of Solomon:

You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you. (Song of Solomon 4:7)

Cue the violins and fire up the CG sunset.

3. If you ever become a statistic, you’ll never be a number.

We live in a fallen world where bad things happen to good people all the time. I wish it wasn’t true and that there was some way that we could love Jesus enough to make ourselves immune to it, but there isn’t. In fact, the last time I checked, 1 in 3 women will be sexually abused during their lifetime (source).  If that statistic isn’t scary enough, consider this one: every 2 minutes, another American is sexually assaulted (source).  There are other stats out there that paint a horrific picture for your generation, stats that break my heart.  70% of teenage girls see drug use as a good way to deal with problems (source). 50% of teenage girls admit to unhealthy practices for maintaining what they think is an acceptable weight (source).

As your dad, numbers like that shake me to my core. Some of those girls made bad choices that led to them being a stat.  Some of them had horrible things happen to them.  I know that I am doing everything I can do, along with your mom, to surround you with the unconditional love that you need, and yet I also realize that so did a lot of the parents of the girls represented in those statistics.

Let me promise you this, and never doubt it as you grow: you are more than a number to me, and there is nothing that you could ever do – or have done to you – that will change that.

Make no mistake.  When I read these statistics, I want to go to the Liam Neeson school of butt-kicking to make sure that I can protect you from every sinful act that could ever happen to you.  But at the end of the day, I realize that even Mr. Neeson wasn’t able to keep his girl from being “taken,” and while that could leave me feeling helpless, it instead motivates me even more to make sure that you never forget this last thing:

4. My job as your dad is to give you to your Father.

As much as we joke about how you won’t date until you’re 40 and marry until sometime well beyond that, we both know the truth: someday you’ll be leaving.  There will be a day when I will wake up and walk past your room on my way to make the coffee, except on this day, I won’t make it to the kitchen.  Instead, I’ll lean against the door frame of your room and remember.

I’ll remember the snacks we ate under the tents you made with your blankets.  I’ll remember the mornings when I’d wake you and sneak you a sip of my coffee.  I’ll remember the nights that you would jump up in my arms and we would dance around the room while I sang to you:

I’m dancing with a princess all over the floor.
How could I have thought that I needed more than this?
To dance with a princess.
To dance with a princess.
Who’d have believed a man like me
Would dance with royalty?

I’m sure that I’ll cry on that day (heck, I’m crying now as I write this), but they won’t be tears of regret, because I’ve been preparing for that day your whole life.  I’ve known since the day you were born and put in my arms that this was a temporary gig and that my real job as your dad was to give you back to the only Father who can really love you and protect you and nurture you more than me.

And I can’t begin to tell you how thankful I am that your Father allowed me to be your dad.

I love you.

[Tweet “My real job as a dad is to give my kids back to the only Father who can love them more than me.”]