I was thinking this morning in Church about motherhood. I have always been uncomfortable honoring human accomplishments during a worship service directed toward God. The Puritans would have had a field day criticizing our modern practices of honoring fathers, mothers, veterans, country, etc… at the Sabbath worship.

But I see nothing wrong with honoring motherhood as it described in the Bible. I see nothing wrong with affirming those qualities in my wife or my own mother. 1 Samuel 2:30 states for "For those who honor me, I will honor." So with that in mind I would like to honor my own mother, Sandy Waddell for particular God honoring qualities she instilled in me. There are five particular areas mom tremendously honored God and I was the beneficiary.

1. Mom cultivated a passion for reading in me. My mother read constantly. Our home was filled with books of every kind and every description. Mom saw to it that we had books that would teach us also. I had little Bible dictionaries and story books about the great heroes of our faith. I did not realize how much a blessing this was until much later in life. Now that I am older, I am so appreciative of mother's love for reading. It has spilled over into my study of the Bible. I have never been hindered in my desire to study the scripture from a lack of motivation to read.
2. Mom cultivated a passion for missions. My mother was the director of the WMU at our church. Missions were vitally important to her and she passé that on it to her children. To us, missionaries were heroes and adventurers. They boldly placed their faith in our God and went wherever He directed to proclaim the Gospel. My admiration for Lottie Moon and other missionaries came directly from my mother.
3. My mother had me in church every Sunday and Wednesday. I resented this in my teenage years and when I had the option not to go later in life, I chose not to until I was saved. But now, I am thankful that mommy woke me up every Sunday morning, got me dressed, took me to Sunday School, Mission Friends, Royal Ambassadors, and Worship. She taught me the importance of worship because worship was important to her- enough to get three boys there every week.
4. My mother taught me what to look for in a Godly woman. My mother submitted to both the father and my dad. Submission these days seems like a dirty word. It makes women seem like they are to be weak. But my mother was not weak. She may be one of the strongest people I know. While I rarely saw her study the word, I did occasionally get glimpses into her prayer closet- a room she called her office in the rear of our house. I would go in to get a pencil or rubber band from her desk and always her Bible, prayer list and study tools were laid out. I could tell they had been used regularly too. My dad wasn't always the most Godly man in the world. He was a good man though, but he was certainly capable of making mistakes and he had a short temper. My mother humbly submitted to his authority and in doing so she taught me what a privilege it is to have a Godly wife that would trust her mate that much. It has reflected in my own marriage. I never take for granted the willingness Lisa offers me to lead our home. It is a great responsibility and I pray I will never violate it.
5. My mother taught me service. She has cleaned my diapers, my vomit, the messes I've made both in my room and in my relationships. She has championed me when I was down and I know that mommy has always prayed for me. She has sung the hymns of faith to me when I couldn't sleep at night. She always seem to put others ahead of herself. She still does this. I know probably as she is reading this she is helping with some charitable organization, prison ministry or watching over my niece or nephew. She inspires me to serve in even difficult situations.

This Sabbath day, I honor my God. I give him glory because he has created a mother like mine and chose to bless me with her life. Thank you God for Mommy and the influence she has had in my life.

²⁷ She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. ²⁸ Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her:

Prov 31:27-28 (ESV)

The most loving thing you can tell someone is that they are lost.

Let me illustrate what I mean. A few years ago, when I was a student at North Greenville College, I went hiking with a friend in Jones Gap State Park down in South Carolina. This was only supposed to be a half day hike. We were to follow a path that had clearly marked white blazes along a trail that would make a loop around the park and return to the entrance (for those of you who don't know what a blaze is, it is a painted mark on trees). My friend and were enjoying the beautiful day. It was perfect weather- a crisp early fall morning warm enough for shorts, but a nice enough to have cooling breeze. The sky was blue and we were having one of those times when friends are just enjoying each other's company. We actually started to become engaged in a serious conversation and weren't paying much attention where we were walking.

Every now and then, we thought we had seen a blaze. This turns out it was just a white lichen on the side of the tree (I hate white blazes). After about an hour's walking, we hadn't seen another blaze. The only thing we knew for sure was that we were on a path. So, we decided the best thing we could do was to continue down the path since it seemed like a beaten trail (there is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it leads to death). Our concerns were growing steadily by the minute. This was in the days before cell phones. We had no food. We had remembered to bring canteens, but our supply of water was starting to diminish as the day wore on and grow hotter. Where would we end up? Back at the entrance of the park? Maybe a road where we could flag down a car?  I began to wonder if we were going to have to camp out in the woods.

We, eventually, did hit a road. But what road and which way should we go? We picked a direction and began walking again. We saw no cars or houses after an hour of being on the road. Dusk was approaching. The air was getting colder. After 9 hours total of walking, we saw a street lamp in the distance. We knew where there was a street light there was civilization and we began to quicken our pace. After a short distance we came to the entrance of Caesar's Head State park. It was closed. But we found a pay phone near the souvenir shop. We called a friend at the college and waited an additional hour and a half for my friend to come get us. By this time it had turned completely dark and cold. My friend and both were in good spirits though. We were thankful that we had gotten out of the woods and were about to be rescued. We felt fortunate that we had avoided a dangerous situation.

Did you notice what our problem was? We didn't know we were lost. Even when we knew we had lost our direction, we convinced ourselves we knew what was best to do. I was pretty scared, but was afraid to admit it. How I longed while I was hiking that some one would appear and let us know where we were and how to get out of the woods.

In our day of being politically correct, we have convinced ourselves that it is better not to offend someone than to let them know they are lost. The consequences here, though, are far greater than being lost in the woods. An eternal home in Hell is at stake. If I was on my way to Hell and didn't know it, I think the most loving thing anyone could tell me is, "Your lost and on your way to Hell. Can I share with you the way?"

This was Jesus purpose was to bring salvation to the lost. "For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost." Luke 19:10 (NASB95). He was very specific as to the way also, ""I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father but through Me. John 14:6 (NASB95). Sure, there will be those who will respond negatively to our offer of direction. They will continue to think they are on the correct path. But there will be others who will respond to the gospel. And they would agree that the most loving thing you could have told them was, "Your lost."

This past weekend we had our annual youth winter retreat. We had a great time. One of the activities on the trip was to participate in the high elements of the ropes course. The youth group was divided into teams of 6. We weren't sure if we would be able to get all the students in on the course so I waited until the last group to make sure.

My group mostly consisted of adult leaders and two students. We had Robert Tubbs, Brett Crabtree, Myself, and lead singer Marc Martel from the group Downhere. We also had Cole Smith and Tim Sanders. Tim was a reluctant ad on. After watching the other groups, Time decided he would try the course also.

We went through five elements in about 1 hour and 45 minutes (which was a testimony of how challenging the course was). We were suspended about three stories in the air, though we were safely harnessed to cables, we still felt an element of risk (and none of us wanted to go through the embarrassment of having to be "rescued"). We had to depend on one another to get through the course. There were several times we felt like we were risking our life to help our team mates. It was important for all of us to succeed. The bond we shared became closer and closer as we approached the end.

While Marc and I waited for our team to complete one section of the course, I shared with him about another time I risked my life to do something challenging- This was the time I went skydiving with my friend Jay Montgomery in 1990. I succinctly remember the rush of adrenaline as we dropped from the plane. I also remember the joy we felt afterwards as we talked about our adventure (it seemed like we were on speed talking a million miles per hour followed by the adrenaline rush crash when we took a nap 45 minutes later). That day Jay and I felt a close bond with one another- we had looked death in the eye that day and survived.

I hear there is a similar bond among war veterans. They too risked and escaped death and their bond is closer than any brother.

On the second to last element, I almost fell while changing ropes. As I lost my balance a surge of adrenaline rushed through me. Tim (remember he was the reluctant one) reached out to grab me in the nick of time. I was grateful. We reached the last element. The instructor asked us what was the hardest part. Brett responded, "Controlling your bladder."

The last element was taking the zip line down- a nice 40' plunge to the ground. It was beginning to get dark. It was also freezing cold. There was about a 6-8 minute gap between each rider as we waited for the zip line to be reset. I was the last one down. I expected to be by myself with the instructors as my team probably un-harnessed  and went inside to get warm.

I was pleasantly surprised when I reached the ground to find the entire team waiting for me. They each wore smiles, gave me a high five and we all hugged each other (don't worry they were burly manly hugs). We had shared a life threatening experience together. We walked away from the course sharing a new bond with one another.

I wonder why we don't have this same bond within the church. Maybe it's because we forget we all share a common experience that we almost died in our sins. We all deserved hell, but Christ saved us. We should recognize we all stood at the precipice and apart from Christ, we would have lost it all. "We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love the brethren" 1 John 3:14 (NASB95). Maybe we need to be reminded of that life from death moment regularly. Every Sunday morning we should give each other high fives and hugs and say to one another- "Thank God we made it."

To my friends, Brett, Cole, Robert, Marc, and Tim- Thanks for being there. I'm glad we made it. I love you guys.

OK, it's only fair for me to admit that last night I took my two oldest daughters to their first "Christian" gymnastics class.

We entered slightly late to a room full of about 30 girls between 8-11. All of them were in various leotards- none of which had a fish, or a cross, or any other religious symbol.

They began by doing stretches and then split the girls up into two groups based on their abilities. Both of my girls were slightly anxious being their first time doing "Christian" gymnastics. The first activity- cartwheels. Uh -oh.

Ella went first. I'm not sure I can describe what Ella did, but I would venture to say it wasn't a cartwheel. It was more of a "cart-plop." Amelia went next. She did pretty good except for the landing. I waited for the critique on holiness points- none came.

Ella tried again. It went about the same. She said aloud, "I can't do it!" The other girls stopped, pointed and said, "oops she said it." Ella clearly had violated some law.

I was expecting to hear the "I can do all things through Christ ..." cliche. But it didn't come. Instead, Ella's instructor said, "we never say can't in this class." From there she proceded to work with her on her cartwheel form.

There was no Christian music. There was no Bible verse for the week. There was no lesson (which would usually comes for some unqualified athlete that butchers the text- but since they play sports they are obviously qualified to teach God's word).

In fact, I could see no outward reference that the gymnastic class was Christian in any form. Except ... I saw colleged aged instructors loving on their students with hugs and encouragment. I saw girls striving for excellence in every stunt they performed. I saw careful instruction, that took into account the children's safety and level of understanding. I also saw patience as each child performed and the instructors knew that someday- with enough practice- the student would get it.

My girls loved it and adored their instructors. They talked about how hard it was, but that they couldn't wait to go back and try it again. They talked in the car all the way home about the new friends they met- how friendly they were and encouraging. Then we sang Hannah Montana the rest of the journey.

Hmmm ... maybe my judgment on "Christian" gymnastics was a little too early. Read above the girls reaction once more. Maybe the church has a lot to learn from "Christian" gymnastics.

BTW, I have t-shirts left over from our last youth retreat. Anyone that wants one, please see me. I assure you, they are completely "Christian."

My wife and I were at her office Christmas party. This is an event that I annually dread. My wife and is an engineer. I am a minister. I pride myself on getting along with people, but a room full of engineers is a difficult proposition. They like to talk about either their work or themselves and what they accomplished through their work. Neither are subjects that I am interested. It becomes burdensome to carry on small talk and my expertise is usually exhausted in the first two minutes. "Hi my name is Blair … It's nice to meet you … I'm Lisa's husband …I'm a youth minister …" And that's about where the mind numbing awkward pause sets in. Both of us are wondering how we can politely excuse ourselves to the cheese table, which would be much more entertaining.

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This year I was introduced to one my wife's co-worker's spouse, which brought much more entertainment than I have ever had at one of these events. The spouse's stated profession was she taught "Christian gymnastics." I couldn't conceal my snicker. Once we parted, Lisa explained to me that she was considering sending our daughters to her classes. This brought more snickers from me.

Lisa asked, "what is wrong with you?"

"Don't you think the idea is funny?"

"What?

"The concept of 'Christian' gymnastics?"

"I think it's important that every girl learn how to do a proper cartwheel."

That may be the case. I'm not a girl, nor have I any desire to do a cartwheel, so I wouldn't know. But it was at this point that I drew my wife's attention to the fact that it was "Christian" gymnastics. I explained to her that I thought it amusing that my daughters might be engaged in "secular" gymnastics. I agreed Amelia must do a proper Cartwheel. I certainly wouldn't want her to give off mixed signals in how she did her tumbling or balance beams. I definitely want the maneuvers to be "Christian." It would be important for all our daughters to keep in "Christian" health as they did their "Christian" floor exercises wearing their "Christian" leotards. 

Lisa started to catch the spirit of the thing. She even came up with a name for the class. She called it the "Holy Rollers." The evening was filled with jokes between us.  I drank my secular Ice Tea and ate my possible "Christian" baked chicken (we had no ability to know its state before its demise). Later, we drove home and stopped by and grabbed a cup of "Christian" coffee at Starbuck's (I know it was "Christian" because we were having a spiritual conversation with another friend as they were making it).

What have we come to? What is it with our desire to label everything "Christian" in order to somehow make it more acceptable to the body of Christ? We have "Christian" t-shirts, "Christian" music, "Christian" bookstores, "Christian" coffee houses. I even have friends that teach "Christian" Tae Kwon Do. I understand the need to stand distinct from the rest of the world, but I'm pretty sure that the appropriate way to do that is not to label our products or services as "Christian." The true way to do it is simply to act as people who have been redeemed by a gracious savior. Following the cues from Jesus' sermon on the mount, it is our motivation and how we deal with people that will mark something as distinctly "Christian."

By labeling everything we do and produce as "Christian," we are in danger of creating a sub-culture that could very well impede the body of Christ. I can't make myself anymore "Christian" than the day Jesus paid for my sins on the cross. It was Jesus atoning work on the cross that made me "Christian," not anything I did or merited. To create products and services that can somehow give the impression that if do this or we buy that will somehow make us more Christian is denial that Christ's death on the cross was sufficient in making us Christian.

This harkens back to the church in ..:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />Galatia who were instructed by Jewish teachers they first must observe the law before they could become Christians. Paul warned them the law couldn't save them in the first place and not to put their trust in the doing of the law. In fact, he said to put their trust in anything other than Christ and him crucified was no gospel at all. This day of "Christian" marketing also brings remembrances of the 15^th and 16^th centuries when leaders within the Catholic church sold indulgences and "holy" relics promising these products would bring less punishment and more righteousness if they were purchased.  Thankfully, Luther and the other reformers righted the ship and reminded us that it is only through faith alone we can be saved.

"What ever you do, do all for the glory of God." This was Paul's advice to the church at Corinth. This is what will make your product or services distinctly, "Christian." I don't think we can ever have "Christian" gymnastics. But we can have Christian gymnastic teachers who teach students to perform with excellence their God given abilities for His glory. I don't think we can have "Christian" music, but we can have Christian performers that use their art to draw attention to God. We will probably never have a "Christian" coffee house (how can a coffee house be saved?). But we can a) serve an excellent cup of coffee and b) create an environment that glorifies God (and I might add the first point is often neglected at these "Christian" coffee houses).

Jesus said, "In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven." This is what makes something Christian, not a label.

I was reading through some of the poems of Elizabeth Prentiss last night. I started and couldn't stop. Prentiss is the daughter of the great theologian Edward Payson and the author of the the Hymn More Love To Thee. In the span of a few months in 1852, she lost her 5 year old son and new born daughter. Her poems reflect her struggles as she copes with God's sovereignty. Here was one that got to me deeply entitled, The Bitter Cup.

I take the cup, my Father, from Thy hand;

Its every drop was measured out by Thee;

How to bring healing thou dost understand,

Who only knowest my soul's malady.

Quick, let me drink this draught at Thy behest,

Drink it for speedy healing, speedy rest.

Nay then, Thou will'st not so! But sip by sip

Must I it's bitterness disheartened taste;

Today, tomorrow, pres it to my lip,

Careful that not a single drop I waste;

And while my human sould for cordial begs,

Must drink this draught revolting to its dregs.

What then? Shall I, who go to drink with Thee,

New wine in the dear Kingdom of Thy Son,

Shrink from the cup this life holds out to me,

Asking, with coward heart, a sweeter one?

Have I not owned myself diseased and faint,

And of my poor soul-sickness made complaint?

Give me the cup, my Master! See me clasp

With willing hands, this remedy from Thine!

Forgive the mortal shudder, mortal grasp

That proves me human, proves me not divine.

Slowly each drop I'll taste, and one by one;

For Thee I drink, Lord, let Thy will be done!

Once again a company does something right. www.1800flowers.com has started a message board thanking our troops overseas (of course it's great advertising for them too, but so what). Take a brief 2 minutes to snd a message out toour troops. You do't have to give out your full name, e-mail address or any personal information.

I give them kudos for thinking about our troops. Oh yeah, don't forget mothers day is this weekend.

I hate that you may have missed it. Last night was a truly wonderful and refreshing experience for me.

The evening began with some great fellowship and food brought in by our fellow church members. It was a good crowd overall with around 200 people (youth and adults) overall. We even had a few special friends visiting with us from out of town. One young lady came all the way from South Carolina to see the show.

Then Andy performed as only Andy can in his laid back style. It was unusual to see Andy by himself without his fellow square peggers- especially wihtout his wife, Jill. But Andy whooed everyone in the crowd with his delightful stories and charm as he introduced each song. He did all the usuals- The Andy Osenga Toe Song, Flowers Growing, Green Hills Mall and other favorites. But I also heard a few new tunes (well at least new to me). As usual Andy's songs are about mundane things in life that only a minds warped as his an find the deeper meaning in. He wrote a song about his old hat that he loved and connected it to working hard to make it loved (I'm assuming the title is Old Hat). He also wote a topshelf song about the feminiztion of males in marriage (which he captured nicely with the Dora the Explorer line). And finally, it ws the first time I heard Andy sing Wrecking Ball by himself. This is a song he wrote, yet Jill sings on her CD. It was great to hear how the orginal sounded. I enjoyed it immensely.

Notably absent from the evening was Cristian Crouch. Which made the evening so much better without having step over Christian's puddle of drool crossing the church aisles. It seemed like everyone had a grta time.Kudo's to Barry Baker for supreme sound management.

I'd love to hear your comments on the evening.

Ok a few recent moments with having Lottie (our name for Olivia) in our home.

Occasion #1:

We always say grace before we eat our eveing meal. Olivia has a problem with eating before we pray. Last night Lisa caught her nibling before the prayer and said, "stop eating!"

Her response, "I'm not eating it ... I'm kissing my food."

Occasion #2:

We recently added a candy jar in the kitchen that had hershey kisses (notice past tense). Olivia was told after her dinner she could only have five. When she returned to the table she had six. I told her, "Olivia, you can only have five kisses." She said, "I know. But I need to eat six of them." I asked why and she told me, "because there is six of them." How can you argue with logic like that?

Guys never come between a woman and her chocolate. That was a "Lisa answer" if I ever heard one.