Why Jesus Doesn't Care About Starving Children

Why Jesus Doesn't Care About Starving Children

   Last night I was scrolling through facebook when I saw something I'm all too familiar with. It was a tumblr thread with the question, "What is the strangest thing a religion believes?"

The answer: An invisible man in the sky cares less about starving children and more about what you do in a bed. 

I wasn't shocked by it. When I was an atheist questions and answers like that ran through my mind constantly. This, among many other atrocities of the "Christian faith" became my argument. Or rather, my excuse for not believing in G-d. 

   I want to preface this post by saying that I am not a theologian. I am in seminary to be a pastor. I know a lot of the bible. But I have no authority to be completely correct at all. However, I know Jesus and He has shown me some things over the years of grappling with questions like this. As a former atheist, I still have a lot of these questions. I still contemplate them. I am not a man that it would bode well to say, "Simply have faith." There are times that I choose faith and know that my questions may not be answered. But these things are good because it causes me to seek answers in hidden mysteries of the Lord and to knock on Heaven's door like the persistent widow. 

   The short answer is: I do believe G-d cares about starving children. But with much evidence stacked against this, how can I? 

   I think the first thing I am required to address is that all sin and injustice, in G-d's view, is the same. He is not like us. He does not see something evil and think, "Well this evil is far more evil than that evil". G-d does not rank the sin of the world like we do. I think we can all agree that sexual immorality appears far less terrible than starving children. Divorce appears far less tragic than murder. A drunken night appears far less immoral than a church misusing tithes. But in the eyes of that "Invisible man in the sky" this is all simply a product of the creation He loves being broken.

   I am a firm believer in what the post said about G-d caring about what we do in a bed. Mainly because I have seen His truth in my life when I have failed to listen to what He says about sex. This is an entirely different topic for an entirely different post. However, to sum it all up: G-d never created rules for us to follow. He never took anything away from us. We do have free choice. The only reason He gives us guidelines about sex is because He made sex to be one of the most delightfully delectable experiences of existence and He knows how to make it that way. We are free to have sex any way we want, but it will not lead to life and it will not be the best sex we've ever had. 

   Now, back to the starving children. The Holy Scriptures have a lot to say about both of these issues but Jesus, in the Gospels, talks more about helping and feeding the poor and defenseless than He does about sex. In Matthew 25:35-40 Jesus tells His disciples that whatever we do in the least for someone in need, we have done for Him. In Matthew 18 Jesus tells us that it is not His will that little ones perish. But, they do. So, is G-d to blame? No. Yes, He has the power to feed every starving human in the world. But He doesn't because we have free will. He doesn't because He will get vengeance for those left to starve in due time. He doesn't because He has commanded us to do it. This goes beyond JUST children. This is for all those that have less than. Some of the verses where scripture tells us to do this are as follows:

Isaiah 58:10

James 2:14-18

Proverbs 28:27, 14:31, 31:20, 19:17, 22:9

Luke 3:11

1 John 3:17-18

Deuteronomy 15:7

And those are a select few.

   My favorite verse for this topic relating to children is James 1:27, "Religion that G-d our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to take care of orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself unstained by the world."

   So, it's our fault. It is the body of Christ's fault that children are starving to death, men and women are dying outside, and the poor are cast aside and forgotten while we talk on our iPhones as we pass them on the street. 

   The picture above is one that I took this morning on my walk to work. I pass this homeless camp everyday. There are many around the city and even in my route home, but this one is right next to my work. Right after thanksgiving I was posted at this new site. When I walked home that night it was the first night it got down to 35. And there was freezing rain. As I walked home I noticed every man and woman trying to stay warm on the streets. I saw a young homeless couple digging through the trash before finding and eating pizza at the bottom. I started weeping uncontrollably. I got angry at G-d. I told Him that He was supposed to be a provider. He's supposed to love these people that I'm seeing. I yelled at Him to do something before the dead of winter hits and someone dies. For the first time in my life I asked Him to make me rich so I could do something. Then my anger turned to begging and I pleaded, "Lord let me help. I want to do something. Show me what to do." I was tight on cash so I couldn't do much in that department. Then He spoke to me and He said, "There's going to be a man outside of your apartment building. I want you to feed him." I got to my building and kept watch for the areas on 21st where the homeless try to get rest. Not a soul was there. I started to think that it was just my flesh angry at the injustice and wanting to help. Then as I was about to go into the side door I saw a man rummaging through our building's garbage. I asked him if he was hungry and he said yes. I went inside and used the leftover turkey and made him a sandwich and I gathered all the snacks I could find all while weeping and thanking the Lord for answering me and letting me help. The man, Glenn, was thankful. We talked and we prayed together and He praised Jesus for providing a hot meal. 

   

   I cried the rest of the night.

   This week it has been in the 20's in Portland with winds as fast as 40mph. Monday morning a homeless man, 51 years old, was found on a street corner with layers of wet clothing on. He was frozen. He had died the night before of hypothermia. 

   I am no better than anyone. But I am starting to feel a pull to answer G-d's commands to help the poor. I don't have a lot of money. Some weeks hardly any at all. But I want to do what I can and share what I have. Children are starving because we aren't willing to do anything about it. I say we, even though I know some of you reading this are burdened about this and do a lot to help the homeless. But I am talking about the collective Christian church. Do you understand if we combined every Christian's money and every Christian organization's money, we could do a hell of a lot more than we are? What if we ALL obeyed the command to take care of orphans and widows and the homeless? I can tell you one thing, no one would blame G-d anymore because we would be known as Christ's disciples by the love we have for one another. (John 13:35) 

Becoming A Missionary

Becoming A Missionary

     When I was two weeks away from turning 16 I planned to commit suicide. I didn't believe in G-d and I honestly hated the thought of Him. You couldn't talk to me then because I knew all about religion. My dad had been a Sunday School teacher. Yet, he would come home and abuse my siblings and I and our mom. He sexually abused me, too. And then when I was ten years old he finally left. During those years I had severe depression. I searched for meaning everywhere I could and came up empty. Nothing seemed worth living for. I began self harming at the age of 11. The same year I watched porn for the first time. I do not remember a time when suicide wasn't a plausible option for me. I thought about it all the time. As I got older, I whored myself out to anyone that paid any attention to me. At the end of it all, I found that no girlfriend, boyfriend, or anything else could make me happy. I was dating a guy at the time I planned to commit suicide. He strung me along for months and kept telling me I was worthless and that he didn't want to be with me. When he broke my heart the last time, I decided to finally go through with ending my life. But something miraculous happened. I was set to go on a weekend ministry retreat called Vida Nueva. I was only going because I was interested in this girl that wanted me to go. I got home from school that day and sat down to write a letter to my family explaining why I was taking my life. As I signed my name, I heard a car door slam outside. I looked out of my window and the people had shown up three hours too early to take me to the retreat. I stashed my letter and decided it could wait until I got back.

     I had no idea then that that was the G-d of the universe intervening to keep me alive. That weekend G-d chased me down and proved to me not only that He existed, but that He loved me more than I could ever know. What blew me away was to hear people preaching that used to be drug addicts. There was even one man that said he was gay before he was a Christian. I had no idea that was possible. I had no idea G-d would still want me after all that I had done. I had no idea that He still loved me and He still wanted my heart. That weekend, I surrendered my life to a G-d that I had hated. Jesus stopped me from killing myself and gave me a reason to keep living. 

     Shortly after that weekend, I felt a call to ministry. I knew that G-d had rescued me and as I read the pages of the Bible for the first time, I knew that He wanted me to tell people what He had done for me. My life wasn't perfect. In a lot of ways, things got harder. I still made plenty of mistakes and for a while there I backslid in a really bad way. Matthew 12:43-45 says, “When the unclean spirit has gone out of a person, it passes through waterless places seeking rest, but finds none. Then it says, ‘I will return to my house from which I came.’ And when it comes, it finds the house empty, swept, and put in order. Then it goes and brings with it seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and dwell there, and the last state of that person is worse than the first. So also will it be with this evil generation.” That happened for me. And again, the suicidal spirit came back and I wanted to die. It was stronger than it ever was before. But yet again, Jesus stepped in and rescued me. I still make mistakes. But G-d has done so much work in me. He has had grace for me in an unbelievable way. I have my amazing wife that loves me like Jesus loves me, and I have a beautiful baby boy that I get to be a father to. And now I am a college student at Liberty University Online working towards my Bachelor's in the science of religion with a minor in counseling. I have a 4.0 and I made the dean's list. I want to keep going with this to make a better life for my family and be able to more effectively help broken people find healing.

     In the last year, G-d has done incredible things with us. We have experienced so much healing and honestly, revival. It's like we've been awakened from a very long sleep. That really came about through the internship we did at the International House Of Prayer: Atlanta. I spent many hours in the presence of the Lord in prayer and I took classes like Attributes of G-d, The Greatest Commandment, and The Life of David. It was through all of this time of healing and restoration that we sought the Lord about ministry. It is here that He showed us our hearts and what He has put in them for Himself to use in this world. We know without a shadow of a doubt that we are called to shepherd emotionally and spiritually wounded people into the healing of Christ unto a place of true freedom. 

     We want to help people that are where I was and have been before in my life. Emory University has stated that on average, 94 people commit suicide every day. The highest risk age being 18-25 years old. We want to spread the Gospel in such a way so that people know that they are loved and they don't have to die like this. Gwinnett County alone has over 500 homeless men and women and children. The number is increasing. We want to help these people. We want to share Jesus with them and let them know that they are loved. We want to work with shelters and help feed these people and do whatever we can. We are called to not just bring people to Christ, but to serve the poor and dirty. (James 1:27) We also want to disciple youth and give them accountability so they don't have to feel the way I did as a teenager and they don't have to make the same mistakes as me. In order to do all of this, we are going on staff at the International House Of Prayer. 

     Doing what we are doing is going to take all of our time. We will be considered Intercessory Missionaries. We believe as important as it is to go out and serve and evangelize, that it is all fueled and sparked by prayer. The biggest part of our job is intercession. Every missionary at the House of Prayer raises their own partner team. We are in the process of raising ours. We have had many people partner with us that love us and believe in what we feel called to do. Partnership involves consistent financial giving as well as prayer. It's all about sharing our heart. The chapter that G-d has been highlighting to us and speaking over us in this is Isaiah 61. We have had many of our partners suggest that we talk to friends of theirs that have a heart for the broken in this way. There are goers and senders. We believe that we are goers to the city of Atlanta and to the nations. Maybe you are a sender. If you're reading this, please share it. If you're reading this and you want to help us do what we feel so strongly called to do; to disciple youth, go to the homeless and serve, go to prisons and talk to them about Jesus, walk the streets of Atlanta and bring light to dying souls, then please contact me or Megan and we would love to talk to you more about partnership. Even if it's just prayer partnership. It's all very important. Please help us fight the good fight. Share this post with your friends and tell them to contact us if they want to know more. Thank you for reading and thank you for helping us. G-d has already raised a partner team for us, now we just have to find them. 

We are one. We are the body. We are the bride. Let's unite and fight together.

Living Of Love In Tolerance

Living Of Love In Tolerance

    I think that loving like Jesus is becoming increasingly difficult in the world we are now living in. In a culture where homosexuality is celebrated, transgender bathrooms are making way, and being yourself is encouraged. I think at first, it excites the hearts of millennials that serve Jesus because quite honestly, we believe in loving people no matter what they prefer in the bedroom or what other sin they live in.  

     As someone who's sins are many, it seems great that these topics are not as taboo anymore. Along with many other topics that I can't think of specifically. It seems great that culture is screaming "LOVE" at the top of their lungs. But are they really? Don't get me wrong. It's exciting that I can be covered in tattoos, facial piercings, and have silver hair and I'm not necessarily the weird one anymore. It's exciting that there is this movement against discrimination of any kind. And to a millennial believer, it seems biblical. James 2:8,9 says, "If you really keep the royal law found in scripture 'love your neighbor as yourself', you are doing right. But if you show partiality, you sin and are convicted by the law as law breakers."

    We are taught to love by Christ and like Christ. But are we really loving people if we do it the way our culture is trying to do? With tolerance? I once heard that the most loving thing you can do is tell someone about Hell. No, I do not think we need to go around and tell people that they're going to burn in Hell because of their sin. But what if we love people by telling them that G-d has something so much greater for them? What if we pour an abundance of Agape love on someone by telling them that the only reason G-d says anything about the way they live their life is because He knows what is going to hurt them in the end? What if we understood that Hell isn't a punishment that G-d wishes to bestow on people but Hell is a reality that Jesus died on the cross and rose again to spare us from. What if we didn't turn our backs on people because of the sin they struggle with? And that goes for the church even more! I have seen so many believers that are going through some really tough times and have fallen deeply in to sin and they wake up with no brothers or sisters in Christ to be found. I have experienced that myself. 

"My brothers and sisters, if one of you should wander from the truth and someone should bring that person back, remember this: Whoever turns a sinner from the error of their way will save them from death and cover over a multitude of sins." -James 5:19,20

    Can we say that one a little louder please? Love isn't about acceptance and tolerance. Love is about displaying Christ. He walked this Earth and preached Truth while still hanging around the "sinners" and dining with the prostitutes. 

     So, what do I take away? I have to ask Jesus what it means to love people the way He told me to. I have to constantly commune with Him to find out how I am supposed to handle the way our culture is going. Yes, let's live of love. But I must be careful to not become hateful and legalistic towards people and their sin. At the same time, I must be careful to not get swept away in what this culture is calling love, acceptance, and tolerance. I also have to understand that G-d is not waiting for the dirty to get clean and come to Him but He is waiting for the dirty to come to Him so He can clean them. He loves people exactly where they are and begs them to choose Him and love Him. So I must love people where they are and beg them to choose Jesus to find living water and abundant life. 

Lament

     It's been a month. I held Papa's hand and watched him take his last breath one month ago.

He's dead.

It feels like it's been so much longer than a month. The ache has made time slow down and sometimes even stop. But time doesn't slow down or stop, though, does it? No, time keeps moving forward. Life keeps going and I must go on. 


No one told me that intense grief feels so physical. My body is actually in pain. If the panic attack is bad enough, I writhe. My only comfort is in the Lord. I know that He is weeping with me. I know He is watching me in love, trying to bring my soul comfort. But nothing stops the pain. This isn't a sinful sorrow; something caused by some horrible sin I've fallen into. This is an agony that demands to be felt. 

It's also in this time you are faced with the reality of what you believe. It's nice to say that there is a place for us after death that the G-d of the universe has prepared and it's beautiful and there's no pain or suffering or tears. It's nice to believe the bible. But right now, I'm faced with eternity as a reality. Either everything I have believed is true or it's not and I will never see papa again. I honestly believe in the Gospel of Jesus Christ now more than ever. I also believe in G-d's mercy now more than ever. There's a line in a My Epic song that papa loved that says, "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His faithful ones." I believe that.

But believing that doesn't stop the pain. It gives me hope to continue when all I want to do is throw in the towel. These are the reasons why I got out of bed this morning. 

All morning I've been thinking of the insanity of grief. When papa was dying, when I was watching him struggle more and more to breathe, when he stopped eating and drinking; I felt peace. I knew that what was coming was so much better for him. I knew that deliverance was near. The moment he died, the insanity set in. In his last few days and even hours, papa saw Paradise. He saw loved ones that had gone on before. He talked with angels. The day before he died I saw him look at someone that wasn't there and say, "I can't go yet, they won't let me go." In the moment I said, "No, papa. Go. It's okay. Go with them." And now, if I could, I would go back and look at the Heavenly Being he was seeing and say, "Take me, too! Please!" I know papa needed for me to be okay. He needed me to tell him it was okay for him to go. He needed that from all of us. But I didn't mean it. I so very much did not mean it. I want my papa back. 

I think the thing that brings me the most agony is thinking of how he looked in his casket. Thinking about the arms that held me, the beautiful blue eyes that pierced my soul, the feet I rubbed, all the details and wrinkles on his face, the body that I bathed for the past six months; is now in the ground. I'm not mourning for him. I'm mourning for me. I'm not angry because he went too soon, although it feels that way. He lived almost 83 wonderful years! He had a beautiful life. It was so full. I'm mourning because I am a teeny human that does not have eternal sight. 

There are constant reminders everywhere. I still live in his house. When I have been gone all day I come home and still expect him to be there in his chair asking me to sit down and watch the news with him. Oh G-d, the news. He recorded every newscast he could find and he would watch all of them every night. I haven't seen the news in a month. Walking past his room is difficult even though the door is shut. I can't go in there. Trash day is now hard to remember because I don't have him there to tell me a hundred times on Sunday night to make sure I "get the garbage up" only to wake up Monday morning to "did you get the garbage out?". He had no appetite so the last few months he really only drank Ensure to keep him healthy. Just a week or so before he died I got ten huge cases of it. He hardly made a dent. Every time I walk past the ensure my heart breaks. The fireplace where he had a fire going even in the summer. We used to argue with him because it was so hot in the house and he wouldn't turn it off. Now that he's gone we've kept the fire going. His last load of laundry is sitting in the laundry room. "Hee Haw" and gospel shows are still being recorded on the tv. It's so painful to see all of his things exactly where he left them, but I can't move it yet. It's only been a month. It's still papa's house. 

There's one part of me that feels like, "this has been the longest month of my life and it's agonizing." but another part says, "okay. I made it through a month. I can keep going."

This has been the loneliest month of my life.

I am angry.
I am hurt.
I am in pain.
I am mourning.
I am grieving.

This is my lament.

It's been one month since my hero died.

It's A Wonderful Life

   It's 10am on Christmas Day. I haven't slept in my bed in days. I'm running on 30 minute naps that I get whenever I can. This doesn't feel like Christmas. We didn't wake up to breakfast and presents and stockings. We woke up to pain and suffering. Papa is pictured above holding my son with me by his side. He doesn't look particularly well in that picture but it was four months ago and he was a lot better then than he is now. He has been on hospice since June and we are told he most likely won't make it to Saturday.

   I don't know why exactly I'm writing this blog. I think writing has always been my way of coping with what I am thinking and feeling and I really need any kind of relief I can get. Papa has been getting worse and worse since Monday. At this point, he has been bed bound since Tuesday. He can't move on his own. His body holds a constant fever. It's a struggle to breathe. He tries to mumble in response to what we say to him but ninety-eight percent of the time we cannot understand it. He hasn't eaten or drank anything in four or five days. Yesterday was the 63rd anniversary of when he married my grandmother, and now today is Christmas. 

   I never thought we would be saying goodbye to the man we love the most on Christmas. I don't think any of us did. A week ago he was mobile. Really, he needed our help to walk at all, but he could do it. He could mostly get to the bathroom on his own, what little he ate he could eat on his own, he was very coherent to be able to have conversations with us, and even hold our kids. Sunday night I laid in bed with him and we watched Misty Edwards preach on being yoked to Jesus. That's been our favorite thing to do the past couple of months. And then Monday morning he woke up and said that he felt "different". What does that even mean? Hospice told us that patients usually just know when it's the end. He spent Monday feeling terrible. We kept him on morphine and most of the time he was out of it, but he still managed to tell everyone in the family that came to see him goodbye. He took us all individually and said the last things he wanted us to know and what he wanted more than anything for our lives. That was the last day he could converse. I think he knew. 

   This past season has been a hard one for me. Full of sorrow and pain and struggling to hold on to my belief in an invisible G-d and a loving saviour. And now, the man that raised me, loved me, protected me, encouraged me, believed in me, held me, pushed me, took me in, and gave me his name to carry and pass on is dying on Christmas. That's hard in general, but it's even worse to feel like your world is concaving but on instagram and facebook everyone else's world is moving on normally. It makes me angry. 

   I honestly feel angry at G-d, too. Of all the times that we thought it was the end with papa, why now? Why is G-d calling him home on Christmas? He knows that it's going to take quite a long time for me to be able to function normally. I can't understand why. And now, days into his deathbed, I cannot comprehend why G-d is letting papa lay in this bed and suffer for so long. Why can't He just take him already? It will end the pain and papa will enter Glory. Why is He letting papa lie there while his muscles jerk uncontrollably and he runs a fever. While he struggles with hearing us but not being able to communicate back. When he can't eat or drink for days. I thought He was merciful. This doesn't look or feel like mercy at all. 

   I'm sitting here listening to the rain and watching the Christmas lights. There's no Christmas cookies baking, or Christmas feast for dinner. We bought a plethora of ready made food days ago in preparation knowing that during the last few hours of papa's life we wouldn't feel like cooking. We aren't playing Christmas music and there are no movies playing in the living room. There is no Christmas cheer. Only sorrow and mourning. All that's left to do is wait. Wait and pray. 

   My papa is the greatest man I have ever known and will ever know. He was a safe place for all he knew and loved. It's time to say goodbye.

   For the first time in years we didn't read the Nativity. But I feel the weight of it. It's hard to know that Christ defeated death when you're staring this in the face, but I know in a few short hours papa will go from being the crippled man on the bed to an energetic man running through the fields to the horizon. Dancing with his wife, asking Jesus all the questions he's ever had, and finally feeling free. Free from what this world is. Free from congestive heart failure. Free from kidney failure. Free. 

   Papa, you'll be home for Christmas.

Sweet Freedom.

If you're reading this and you pray, pray for our family. My mother especially. We aren't going to take this well by any means. Yes, he will be in a better place. I believe that. But telling me that doesn't help. A hug is nice. I simply need my time to mourn. And that mourning will run so deep, I need G-d's grace to make it through it. We all do. That is how you can pray.

One

One

     Today my wife and I celebrated our one year anniversary. On June 15th, 2013 two people became one by the power of Christ. (Genesis 2:24) A covenant was made between us that no one can break. One that directly mirrors the relationship Jesus has with His Bride. And now, it has been one year and I think that calls for sharing what this year has been for us.

     I'll never forget how that day felt. I remember that all I could think of was, "I wonder what Megan is doing right about now?" I didn't call or text her all day because I had it in my mind that we shouldn't talk before the ceremony. She hated that. But that day was all spiritual for me. I felt like everything I was, everything I had been before Christ, was going to die. I felt like an animal being brought to the alter for sacrifice. In the most unimaginably good way possible. I had been saved for a few years but I felt like as soon as I got to that alter, my shackles were finally coming off. Let me be clear, Jesus saved me. Megan didn't. My joy is in Christ. However, when you have devoted a relationship as a sacrifice before our King and He tells you that He can use you better married than apart from one another, I can't even begin to scratch the surface of what that feels like. It was no longer about me, but about me and my wife. And the excitement that came with that was indescribable. Most people have seen our wedding pictures, and let me tell you, the ones of my wife coming from behind me, praying with me, and then removing my blindfold for me to see her for the first time, were all real. They were not staged. And yes, I sobbed like a small child because all I could think was, "My G-d, she is so beautiful. How in the world are you trusting me with her?" There is nothing like seeing your bride for the first time.

     I will say that in this past year there have been many trials. More than I could have ever honestly imagined. We have faced things together that I never in my worst nightmares would believe we would face. But we did it. They say that the first year of marriage is always the hardest. I don't know if that will show to be true because there are going to be a vast amount of hard times throughout our lives. But what this first year has taught us is that we aren't alone in this. Of course we always have Holy Spirit to help us and carry us through, but now, in marriage, we have each other. We can lean on each other. From finances to family issues we have had times that truly brought us to our knees before G-d. And we've had times that have left us wondering, "Where is G-d in all this? Why isn't He helping?". But with every heart wrenching situation we have been in, we have had each other. Even when we made the mistake of believing the lie that we are still alone and treated each other like the enemy, we still came together in the end and sobbed at our Father's feet together.

     Satan hates marriage. It was the first institution that G-d set up between humans and it's the most important because it mirrors His relationship with us. And we have seen him come against us doing everything he can to attack our marriage. And my advice to fellow married people is this: don't let him. Take all your thoughts captive and bind your mind to the mind of Christ and pray for the discernment to guard your marriage against the enemy. He always tries things like giving you the idea that if you hadn't gotten married your life would be better. Or if you married someone else it would be better. Don't let him feed you those lies. You WILL face trials no matter what you do in life. It's how G-d refines and sanctifies us. You are stronger, through the blood of Christ, than Satan.

     Sometimes I think about the typical things people say about a young marriage like ours and I seriously ponder their words. I try to have a teachable spirit so I don't just shrug off things that people say to me. I think about "sewing your oats" and "how do you know that this is the one?" And to that I say, I lived my life how I wanted to. I tried that. Doing everything that I thought would make me feel good and living for the moment filling the void in me with whatever I could. I made MANY mistakes in doing so. And I found that doing whatever I wanted to didn't make me happy. At least not in a long lasting way. Only Jesus could do that for me. And I chose to walk a road with Him that required me to lay down my life and crucify my flesh daily. So the decision to give up all my "desires" for marriage was a simple one. I knew from the moment I met Megan that she was my wife. And here, two years into being together and one year into marriage, there is not one thing I regret besides all the sin I committed before I met her. We could have not gotten married. We could have "just enjoyed" our senior year in high school, gone to college as singles, and made a decision about marriage much later. But what would have really happened? Because I see so many people I know that followed that typical path and got swallowed up. Maybe I went to college as a single man. Maybe it would have been a good experience. Or maybe I would have been miserable and strayed away from Jesus. Megan and I both feel called to ministry and we felt called to young marriage. We are doing everything we can to have attentive ears and live in G-d's plan for our lives. We are one. And I wouldn't trade that for anything. As hard as it has been at times this past year, G-d has blessed us ABUNDANTLY. He has been such a loving Father.

    If there's one thing I could change about my whole life it would be to have waited for Megan. In every possible way. I cannot stress to people enough how important it is to wait. Not just for sex. But for all of it. Especially your heart. As a single, especially a male single, it's so hard to not fall for anyone and everyone that shows you attention. But it's worth the struggle. Marriage is extremely wonderful. The experience of being one with someone before G-d, keeping your relationship grounded on Christ, and all the other things that come with marriage make life so much sweeter. Even the bad things. Marriage is not a fairytale, there are plenty of broken nights and tough arguments. But life is a learning experience and in marriage, you're not having to learn alone. You have someone standing with you learning with you. So, please, wait. This current struggle is worth the amazing sweetness of marriage. And it's so much sweeter when you do things right. When you wait for your wedding night and you only belong to each other. Keep pressing forward. Wait for G-d to move you because ultimately He is your first love.

     Our first year of marriage has been wonderful. Not perfect, but wonderful. I love my wife more than I did on our wedding day because now I know what it means to truly be in love with someone. Through all the hard times, through all the laughs, all the tears, all the sweet moments--loving someone is not about the romantic happy feeling you get. My wife is so passionate, so strong, so courageous, so gentle, so loving, and so kind. I am forever eternally grateful to my G-d for giving me to her. And when we are fifty and we aren't so pretty anymore, I'll still find everything about her smokin' hot. This life I'm living is the best I could have ever asked for. And I'm so excited to have many, many, many, many more anniversaries.

He Calls Me Child

He Calls Me Child

          Right now it is May. And for some reason that means: busy. I mean really busy. Lately adulthood and responsibility has been especially stressful for my wife and I. We plan on moving to a new town in the next month and we are very excited for what G-d has in store for that but the stress of moving has begun to sink in. We have one month until our lease runs up and as of now, we have no idea where we will be living. We have found many houses that are good options but nothing that just feels right. That along with, jobs, schedules, finances, bills, school, dogs, family, friends, etc. has made everything seem so much more stressful than it needs to be. I tell you all of this so that you understand my thought process a bit.

          The other day, after looking at a couple houses that both had major things wrong with them that keeps them from being suitable for our needs, I was thinking about how stressful everything is. I was actually sitting in my car in the parking lot of my work about to go in for my shift. And all I could think is how badly I want to quit and live life next to my wife not ever worrying about anything. Ultimately, I was wishing to be a child again. I didn't think too much of it because quite frankly, even in the midst of stressful busy times, I love my life as it is. But today I was on my way to work and I wasn't even thinking about my wishes from two days ago and G-d just reminded me, "You are my child." 

         Of course, this is something we know already. But the way He was speaking to me was truly in a way of, "give up your worries, crawl into my lap, and let me be your Daddy." 

          I grew up without a father. My grandfather was my only father figure and as amazing as he is, there will always be a void a little boy, or little girl, will feel when their biological father is not around. And that is why most times when I turn to G-d, I turn to Him as my Savior, my Lover, my Friend. It takes a lot of focus on my part to truly let G-d be my Father. And today, it was as easy as it was for me to crawl into my papa's lap when I was little. That moment with G-d, while driving, was such a sweet moment to me. I love how He loves us. I love that He knows my core and He knows what I need to keep going. 

          We may grow up into adults and away from our parents, taking on responsibility, and even a family of our own in this life; but we will always be five-year-old children in the eyes of Father Yaweh. I can sit in His lap. I can cry in His arms and not be afraid to let my tears fall on His forearm. I can trust Him to hold me and love me with purity that my mind cannot even fathom. 

          There's a worship song I love that many times, when I am broken and hurting, G-d just reminds me to listen to. It's called Brokenness Aside by All Sons and Daughters. And the line that I love is, "Will You call me child when I tell you lies? Cause all I know is how to cry." And Daddy reminded me of that today. And as I felt His strong arms, that once hung bare on a tree, wrap around me; I felt like He was saying, "No matter where you go, no matter what you do, no matter how you see yourself, or what the enemy tells me about you; I love you. You are my child and I will never let you go. I am here, little one."

Prayer: Abba Father, I pray that You would instill this in me tonight. That You would let me grow closer to You as Your child with You as my Daddy. That You would make my ear attentive to Your Voice and that I would find joy in Your instruction. I pray that You would have mercy and grace over my family as You bring us into a new season and that You would give us the strength to die to ourselves and trust in You. Thank You, Jesus for Your Blood. Thank You for making a way for me to be adopted into sonship. And thank You, that You sent Holy Spirit to dwell with us so we wouldn't be left orphans. Thank You for loving me like no one else ever could. Thank You for calling me your child. In Jesus' Holy and beautiful, soul saving Name I pray, Amen.

 For you have not received a spirit of slavery [leading] to fear again, but you have received the Spirit of adoption, by whom we cry out, "Abba! Father!" -Romans 8:15