Why I’m Choosing Love

If you know me, you know I’m a man in love. Deeply. In. Love.

My wife is, quite simply, the perfect human being for me. I’m convinced that God custom-made this woman to fill in and complement every one of my shortcomings–and there are many. I’m completely and forever in love with her. If you know her, you see clearly that we are a matched set.

Lest you think I’m about to droll on and on, dripping with sap about how much I love my wife, I promise you I am not. I actually want to turn my attention to Jesus, and Him alone. And I invite you to hear the expressions of my thoughts and heart for the man I call my best friend, my Savior, my heart’s affection, and the One I choose to follow/walk with. But before I do, I believe the greatest quality my wife has is that she would absolutely want me to tell you that it’s Jesus who makes our marriage work. He’s it.

But first a quick diversion. My life revolves around ministering with young people. Ever since I was a young person myself, I have known that my life would be aimed at the young generation, and loving them well, showing them Jesus, and being available for them for…well…whatever.

Living rooms, hospital rooms, waiting rooms, courtrooms, backs of squad cars, funerals, jail cells…I’ve been everywhere seeking to love young people well.

In all honesty, I have nothing to offer any young person but Jesus. He is it. I don’t have life hacks, deep wisdom, tricks to help smooth out life’s road, or anything else. I only have and I only offer Jesus.

So you can perhaps imagine my surprise and concern when I recently found that some young people I interact with struggled to articulate much at all about who Jesus is and why they, too, love Him.

Seems like for someone who is in the context of a thriving spiritual community, such a thing should flow naturally. But it seems there’s work to do in this area. Yet, I cannot expect anything from them that I am not able and willing to do myself. So, this blog is about exercising the discipline of articulation. I’m going to articulate to you why I choose to love and more specifically, who I know Jesus to be and why I am now and–God helping me–will for all my days fix my gaze on Jesus.

If anyone from my high school days ever reads these words, I must apologize to you. I did not live as I should have lived in those days. I did not express my faith well; it was there, but it was not on display as it should have been. I hope you’ll forgive me for that. I should have been clearer. This isn’t about my upbringing as a “PK” (pastor’s kid), it isn’t about church attendance, and it isn’t about “religion.” I put no stock in any of those things.

This is about the person of Jesus: who He has been from the beginning, who He revealed Himself to be in the gospel accounts we all have access to, and who He is to me personally right now on a daily basis.

I want to do my best to paint a picture for you. I trust that then you’ll clearly see why I choose to love Him.

You can read other blog posts of mine that go into the granular details of my upbringing and my faith story. There are lots of details you can find in other writings I’ve already posted. So I won’t repeat myself in that regard.

Jesus is the fullness of God, who chose to be constrained to a human frame. God chose to become flesh in order to communicate the greatest love for humanity (that’s all of us) that He possibly could. Jesus came to us because we could never get to Him. The mission of Jesus from the very start has been to come and get us. To rescue us. To redeem us. To adopt us. To draw us back to Him, as He has desired all along.

The person of Jesus is the image of a God who would stop at nothing to have us in a loving relationship with Himself. I love Jesus because He is God, but also because He is a walking, talking, sharing, healing, and reviving God. I live and breathe at this moment because of the presence of God. This is not a poetic or romantic statement, though it is that as well. It is a statement of fact. My conviction is that I am alive because God has desired it. I am breathing and functioning because of His good grace. My whole self is wrapped up in Jesus because Jesus has shown Himself to be the author and sustainer of all I am and all I have.

Going deeper, this God has come to me personally. In the depths of my sin, He came to me in this relentless pursuit that was fueled by His love for me. Though I disregarded His love and chose to live selfishly, still He came for me and came after Me. He found me in my self-inflicted mess and invited me to be whole, to be healed, and to be changed day by day as I walk with Him. I have found no other solid ground to stand on because every other thought and belief system would be based on what I can do, and I confess that I can do nothing good on my own. If you are reading these words and you believe you are fine on your own and do not need Him, then know that while He loves you with an everlasting love, His love also gives each person their own decision to embrace Him or go on without Him. But as for me, I choose Jesus. He looked for me, He found me, He healed me (still is), He transformed me (still is), He adopted me, and He is patient with me.

I talk with Jesus. In this talking, our relationship grows stronger. That’s how relationships work. If you want to grow closer to someone, you talk to them, and you listen to them. I have become convinced that it is this ongoing conversation that gives me a healthy perspective on all other aspects of my life. Likewise, when our conversation wanes, all other aspects of my life begin to become misprioritized and mishandled. Simply put, my conversation with Jesus sets all other things in their proper place.

I choose to love Jesus not because I was given some insider information by virtue of being brought up in a Christian (let alone as a pastor’s) home. It’s not because I went to enough bible studies and learned enough information. It’s not because of some unfair advantage life handed me. No. None of that. I choose to love Jesus because He first loved me. He proved that love by painfully accepting the death that my own sin demanded. He took on my death in my place. What greater love exists than that?

I know Jesus as a friend because He continually shows me more of who He is. I enjoy a familiarity with Jesus because we have walked together for so long, but along with that comfort, there is equal part wonder and curiosity that is built into our friendship. I know that I’ll never know the depths of who Jesus is, and I revel in that mystery. I love Jesus because there is no end to what I can know of Him.

Jesus is the very embodiment of the love of God. I am drawn to belief in Him, to friendship with Him, and to journeying life’s road following Him. I honestly believe that apart from Jesus I could do and would be nothing. Again, if you are living a fine life apart from Him and believe that you are able to continue that, by all means go ahead. As for me, I’m a broken and helpless sinner in desperate need of a Savior. He is the Savior of my world. I know that for me, I am prone to decisions that are selfish and destructive. I need someone greater and higher to be Lord of my life. He is my Lord and He has given me wisdom, peace, and direction. He has saved me from devastating decisions time and again. Left to myself, I’d drive this life into a ditch or off a cliff. With Jesus in control, I have nothing to fear. With Jesus my Lord guiding me, I am free from all anxiety. That’s why I trust Him. That’s why I love Him.

What I want for you is that you would know Him, too. In fact, I’d love nothing more than for you to know Him even more than I do. Whether you or anyone else (and I know millions do) choose to love Him, I simply cannot turn away from Him. I’m far too convinced of His presence, His goodness, His faithfulness, and His grace. This is who Jesus is to me and this is why I choose to love Him.

In the Desert

You already know that I learned of Jesus’ love for me and His offer of forgiveness for my sins when I was just eight years old. And you likely know that I would say that despite my age-eight acceptance of His forgiveness, I’d say that I didn’t begin to walk with Him until I was sixteen. Someone may wonder, “What’s the difference?” and I suppose I’d put it this way:

When I say I learned of (and received) Jesus’ forgiveness, I mean that it was a transactional decision. And when I say I began to walk with Jesus, I mean that it was a relational decision.

I wonder if you’ve made that relational decision yet. I pray you have. Not because I’m a pastor or a church-goer or because you think I’m “religious.” I actually don’t put one ounce of value in any of those things. What I want for you is to know the transformational love of the God who created you, knows you, and wants you. Now, let me say more to the point what I mean. I want you to have solid ground to stand on. Apart from Jesus, solid ground doesn’t exist. In Him, you will have peace when the world feels unstable (when does it not?), joy even in times of turmoil or tragedy, hope in the face of the uncertain future, and an abundance of love given directly from God Himself for you, but not just for you–so that it might overflow* through your life to those around you. Inexpressible joy, unwavering peace, boundless hope, and unending love. THAT’S what I want for you, and only Jesus has it because only Jesus IS all those things.

So, do the math. I’m currently fifty-one years old *gulp*, and I started walking with Jesus at age sixteen. Let’s see, that means I’ve walked with him….give me a minute….for thirty-five years.

In those thirty-five years, I can tell you that a large portion of that time has been spent in what some might call a desert land. In my younger understanding of spirituality and my grasp of what it means to walk with Jesus, I would have told you that desert = bad. I mean, deserts are dry, lifeless, exhausting, and there just isn’t much attractive about being in a desert. We’ve all seen some movie where some poor guy is dragging himself on his belly through the desert, breathing this gasping desire… “Water….please…water…”

It’s even found its way into our language as Jesus’ followers. When we share with others about how we are doing spiritually, we use words like “desert”, “stale”, “dry”, and it all means that our spiritual lives are kind of waning; that we aren’t really where we want to be. It’s a season we’re trying to simply survive.

But there’s a scriptural reality that I fear we have not only overlooked but negated in our modern view of desert seasons. I submit to you that not only did Jesus love the desert, and longed for the desert, but practically speaking, the deepest, richest ministry happens in the desert.

What must happen is that we view those “desert” seasons of our lives as seasons of strengthening, intimacy, and preparation. Yet we commonly see them as weakening, distancing, and purposeless.

Look with me at the gospels. Let’s go with Mark, whose gospel account was actually written first. I personally love Mark because he’s just interested in the action of Jesus’ life. His writing focuses far less on the words of Jesus and more on the ways of Jesus. At the start of his account, Mark tells about how John was in the “wilderness” preaching the message of the Kingdom, and that Jesus came out to John to be baptized.

Did you get that? Blink, and you’ll miss it: Jesus went out to the desert to be baptized. God the Father’s public declaration of Jesus’ identity and His public ministry began in the desert. In fact, it’s the only place in scripture where the Trinity is manifest in a publicly perceptible way: The Father’s voice audibly heard from heaven, the Son standing in the river, and the Spirit descending like a dove. What if, instead of lamenting the desert times in our lives, we chose to view them as where new things start?

Not convinced? Look at what happened IMMEDIATELY after Jesus was baptized by John in the Jordan River…. This time let’s look at Matthew’s gospel account…. “Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness…” (Matt. 4:1)

What?!? God the Spirit led God the Son into the desert in preparation for the ministry that would ultimately glorify God the Father? Yep. That’s EXACTLY what happened.

So when you find yourself tempted to think that your spiritual desert place is a place of lifelessness, purposelessness, or directionlessness, understand that the desert is where God BEGINS the work. It’s where God PREPARES us for the new chapter. It’s where God PROVES His nearness and faithfulness.

As part of my grad school journey, I read a book by Henri Nouwen called “The Way of the Heart” and it speaks deeply to this whole idea of how we view the desert. I recommend it to you highly. You can order your own copy here.

It is at this point that my heart wants to hit the gas pedal and pour out more content, sharing more of my thoughts about this topic. But my mind says, “Stop here. That’s enough. You want people to read this, right?”

So here I’ll stop and turn to you. What are your thoughts on this? What are your desert-place experiences? Does anything here resonate with you, or prove helpful?

*A couple of years ago, I co-authored a devotional book called “Overflow”. If you’d like a copy of that 52-week devotional book, please reach out and let me know. I’d be happy to send you one of the few copies I have left.

How To Be

It’s human nature, I’d suppose, to become more introspective as you get older. An infant/toddler is completely unaware of most everything except what’s in their hand or mouth. A teenager is consumed by the influencing input of the world around them and finding their place in all of it. A young(er) adult is looking for meaning and purpose not so much because of some innate understanding but because the message has been that there’s a purpose to be found. And the old(er) adult has more in the rearview than through the windshield, so they spend more time taking stock of what it all has meant and the ways it has shaped them.

This is over-generalized, I’m sure, but the truth is in there, nonetheless.

Within the past several weeks, I’ve witnessed the passing of someone very young, at the very start of their adult life, and someone at the very end of their long, rich, and storied life. Solomon tells us in Ecclesiastes that we should spend more time at funerals than at parties, because everyone dies, so the living should take it to heart. (Ecc. 7:2)

In other words, it’s more important to know that time is limited than it is to know what time it is. Thinking about how much time is left is futile and wasteful. Being mindful that time is a mere construct in which we gather stories and experiences and impact those we intersect with–that’s the better route.

So how? How do we?

While the passage of time affords most people the ability to zoom out, look back, and take stock there has got to be a shortcut to offer to those who statistically have more ahead than behind. And that’s what I’m after in writing these words.

First, I suggest to you that the metrics the world uses to measure worth are diabolically unhealthy. The heart of it is getting. Get the look. Get the girl. Get the guy. Get the job. Get the money. Get the gains. Get the grade. Get the client. Get the followers. Get the story. Get the experience. Get the house. Get the car. Get the spouse. Get the kids. Get the lake home. Get the stock options. Get the comfort. Get the bigger piece of the pie. Get first.

It’s no wonder we’re exhausted, stressed, cutthroat, suspicious of others, and overworked to name a few.

So, how DO we be? Someone once said it’s no accident that we’re called human beings, not human doings. We are hardwired for relational existence, and when that aspect is absent, dysfunctional, or in any way out of whack, so are we.

What if it were possible to early on introduce the discipline of relational pulse-checking as a way of calibrating one’s compass? This most certainly could happen accidentally, but could we teach the skill of gauging relational health and making adjustments to those findings in a way that is akin to aligning the steering on one’s car?

Could the young brain steering that young life engage in such a disciplinary exercise? Let’s suppose it could.

What might happen is this…

  1. A person could be relieved of finding that life has mostly passed them by before they notice and try to compensate for opportunities that were lost while they were distracted by lesser pursuits.
  2. A person could embrace an entirely different metric than pop culture embraces. They could be released from the “Get” metric. I’d bet that nothing but good can come from such a release.
  3. A person could experience a far deeper wealth of purpose-infused relational living. That person could walk life’s path not seeing others as obstacles but as opportunities for growth and service.

Structure and strategy in order to accomplish personal goals are noble and good and right. But I’d suggest that structure and strategy in order to attain a life that is better focused on relational depth, experiences that enrich others’ lives, and that is centered on giving over getting is the far better path.

This is an unfinished blog post. It’s barely the beginning of a germinated thought. So please add to it. Share with me–regardless of your age–your thoughts on how we gauge things like worth, direction, relationships, and how to know if our lives are where we desire them to be or not.

Connections Matter

“To lead is to serve.”

That’s the mantra of a group of young people I’m privileged to walk with. This particular group is called “Crew” and it’s our student leadership team. The goal of this team is not to manufacture pastors or full-time ministry leaders but rather to create a sense of ownership and urgency in terms of mission. What’s the mission? Simple. To “make disciples.”

Jesus is the one-stop shop for all things leadership, servanthood, visioning, planning, time management, personal growth, team-building, and organizational structuring, to name a few. You need not look any further than the person of Jesus Christ and His 33 years on earth if you want to learn anything in any of the areas above.

I’m a chronic evaluator. I’ve never been able to leave things alone that could potentially be improved. Sometimes, creating from nothing is involved in that, but most times, it’s taking what already is and asking, “How could this be even better?” And sometimes “better” comes in the form of taking an approach, a paradigm, or an established methodology, tying it to the nearest tree, and putting a bullet in its head. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Because I’m constantly evaluating and seldom (if ever) fully satisfied, my mind is continually spinning and working on what-ifs, what-nows, and why-nots? I don’t suppose I’m unique in this; I bet you have a fair measure of evaluative DNA in your bones as well.

One of the assessments I’m trying to make right now is to evaluate how emotionally supportive and personally accessible I am. I didn’t wake up with those two areas of growth in my mental crosshairs, but as I’ve thought about it, they have emerged as two possible areas I could do some work in.

I’ve often said that self-awareness is a superpower. It’s one of those things you notice more when it’s absent than when it’s present. For example, my wife and I drove out to the middle of nowhere to a small country furniture store that sold Amish-quality (if you know, you know) furniture, and it was also a deli of sorts that reportedly piled the lunch meats high on their freshly made bread. We didn’t go for the furniture.

While waiting for our sandwiches to be assembled by bonnet-wearing, long-dress-adorned women, another customer approached us to tell a joke. I’m not kidding. No warning. No “I’m about to tell you a joke” disclaimer. No preparation. She just hit us with this quip that she considered amusing.

Have you ever had to make a decision that, in the face of sheer awkwardness, you’re going to just go with it and try and endure with a smile on your face? That was us. Her joke was understandable, but it just wasn’t funny. It was on par with a really bad “dad joke.” We responded with the appropriate amount of sympathy laugh, trailed off with the well-known “after-laugh” sigh that kind of trails off, letting the jokemaker know that their joke was…ummm….over.

Undaunted and clearly unaware of our discomfort, she doubled down with another joke. A swing and a miss. Strike two.

Then, to my horror, she pulls out her third attempt. I wish I could tell you what it was, but it was so bad that my mind instantly protected itself by erasing the memory of that joke.

One thing I can say for this sweet lady was that she was gleefully unaware of the situation as we saw it. She was just doing what she did: cracking jokes and taking names. Yep. Self-awareness is a superpower. And you know it best when it’s absent.

So, all that to say, I want to be self-aware. Sorry, that deli story was the “long way around the barn” as my dad would say. Still, I want to be in tune with areas of growth that present themselves.

I wonder how well or poorly I’ve actually done in these two areas. The areas of support and accessibility, in particular, are, for whatever reason, the two areas that are in front of me right now. I won’t share the details, but I can look back on different situations where I have been either accidentally unsupportive or inadvertently inaccessible.

I titled this blog post as I did because I really do believe that. At the end of the day, it really is connections that matter most. First, I want to be connected to Jesus. And by connected, I mean abiding deeply in who He is, how He loves, and where He’s going. (John 15:4-11) The youthful desire I once had to just “get stuff done” has been slowly replaced by a desire to “keep Jesus close.” I’ve learned over the years that getting stuff done without keeping Jesus close is worth exactly nothing. (Psalm 127:1) I know that’s a harsh statement. But it’s not less true because it’s difficult to hear.

One of the things I love about this young generation is their apparent desire to connect more than accomplish. God bless previous generations and their dogged determination to grind at all costs, and I don’t mean to say that Gen Z or Alpha or even Millenials aren’t hard workers. They most assuredly are. But what is of equal or greater value seems to be connecting well while they also do the stuff on their to-do lists. It’s the beautiful understanding that the program is the vehicle, but the person holds the value.

So, how do I make better connections? How do I increase my accessibility? I have taken steps in that direction and have seen some traction. But what must be in place is the intentional steps of seeing what is lacking or needing strengthening, swallowing your pride, and seeking out ways to improve upon it.

Here’s one thing I’m doing. It’s so simple that I’m sure millions of others have already figured this out and applied this to their daily lives. Since I want my life to be marked by JOY, and since I’m a sucker for acrostics, I’m seeking to live each day with these three things at the forefront of my interactions and connections:

J – Jesus. Jesus is my best friend, my King, my healer, my grace-giver, my companion, and my Lord to name just a few. Because of the love relationship I have with Him, I am guided in all ways to love and to serve as He loves and serves. He enables me by the power of His own Spirit to do that; it is none of me and all of Him.

O – Others. If you know me personally or if we’ve ever even had just one interaction, I hope and pray that I gave you attention, showed you respect, and dignified you as a beloved creation of God. I hope that when we talked, you felt heard, understood, seen, and even embraced. If I fell short of that, I apologize. Let’s try again. I drink coffee every day and eat lunch every day. I’d love to do either of those with you.

Y – You. This one’s interesting because John clearly taught us that “I must decrease, and He [Jesus] must increase.” (John 3:30). So it stands to reason that the less of me there is, the more of Jesus there is. But then again, Jesus Himself taught us to “Love your neighbor AS YOU LOVE YOURSELF.” (Mark 12:31) Do these two principles (me decreasing and me loving myself) conflict with each other? I don’t think so. We must have a God-view of ourselves just as we do of others. One prayer I regularly pray is “God help me to see and love people as you see and love them.” But I’ll confess to you that I do not pray that prayer to include myself when, in actuality, I should. “God, help me to see myself as you see me” is a prayer that I need to put into practice.

What connections are most important in your life? How could they possibly be stronger?

What other areas of your life are you evaluating and strengthening?

Leave some thoughts in the comments.

Discipleship as I see it.

My views on discipleship have certainly evolved over the years. I find it fascinating that Jesus told us to “make disciples” just before he ascended into heaven, but didn’t specify how to do that. We can most certainly extrapolate principles from His life, teachings, and examples but the fact remains that when He told His disciples to “make disciples”, He didn’t hand them a “How-To” guide giving them step-by-step instructions as to how to accomplish that task.

So here we are.

Truth be told… if I really unloaded all my thoughts on discipleship, you and I would be here all day for days and days because I seem to have an unquenchable storehouse of thoughts on this subject. The bottom line is this: Making disciples is literally the one thing Jesus told us to do while He’s taking a quick break on this throne. Do you remember when you were a teenager and your parent(s) went out for an errand and left you with something to do while they were away? Do you remember not doing that thing until you saw the headlights of their car pulling into the driveway because you got distracted or just put it off, thinking you had plenty of time? We often get caught up in the distractions of other things while the “one thing” goes undone.

I’m approaching my 30th year as a pastor. Living a life of full-time ministry (I’ve learned there’s no such thing as part-time ministry, by the way), I have grown in my desire to be sure that the “one thing” we’re called to do is not just getting done, but in the most Christ-like, effective, gracious way possible.

The imagery that I share with the leaders I lead who are leading students in discipleship is this: We are simply placing a loving hand on their back, and guiding them forward into a closer walk of devotion with Jesus and greater degrees of obedience to Jesus. We’re not pushing; we’re guiding and encouraging. The role of someone who is seeking to disciple another must be marked with love, patience, wisdom, and clarity, to name a few. I also use the term “Sherpa” with those I’m leading. No matter who you are, you’ve never been where you are before. You need someone who has. Having a Sherpa who knows the terrain and can guide you is truly the heart of discipleship. Disciple-making can be facilitated or begun by programs, but discipleship is not a program. It is best lived as an eyeball-to-eyeball relationship where we are growing together because we’re walking together with Jesus. I also believe that not only does everyone need a Sherpa, but everyone needs to become a Sherpa to someone else. Or as the well-used expression goes: Making disciples who make disciples.

Since I can’t practically go on and on about this directive of disciple-making to the extent I’d love to in this blog post (because there’s simply so much more to say), I’ll stop short here and simply ask your thoughts on what it means to make disciples, the “one thing” Jesus’ followers are called to do. Please share in the comments!

Bookmarks

I hated reading. I didn’t grow up loving books like some of my friends did. I’d rather crash my Star Wars figures together in some epic battle, or spend hours building with my beloved Lego. In sixth grade, I feigned being a book lover in order to catch the attention of a girl in my class who was toting Tolkien’s “The Hobbit” around. Somehow, I found a copy to tote around, hoping to be noticed. That plan never amounted to anything. Even as I got into high school, I just didn’t enjoy reading. It felt too subdued. Too tame. Too blah.

It wasn’t that I didn’t read. It wasn’t that I didn’t know how. I just found it to be pointless. Then in my senior year, I was in Mr. Mathis’ English class. Like many high schools, ours had an English teacher who was just odd, a man who marched to the beat of his own drum. And yes, he was also in charge of all the theatrical productions that the school produced. Mr. Mathis changed my view of reading and writing. In fact, you are reading these words right now largely thanks to Mr. Paul Mathis. He taught me a love of reading and writing that I haven’t been able to shake. It’s hard to explain, but my fingers flying around this keyboard, landing on letters, and pounding out these words is akin to someone else laying their head back on a therapist’s couch as they let their guard and inhibitions down in a way that is healing, helpful, and hopefully healthy.

If I could draft my own ideal existence, it would be largely centered around the act of writing and reading. In my life, reading fuels writing. In fact, this blog post with its peculiar title “Bookmarks” directly resulted from my reading some words just moments ago. It’s natural for my eyes to go left to right, line after line, reading some random something, and suddenly be struck with the undeniable urge to create some words of my own. So here I am.

The title of this post, I admit, is quite last century. In our digital age, the types of bookmarks I’m referring to are slim pieces of paper that serve to mark our spot. It’s a thing we place where we have to stop so that when we begin reading again we can quickly pick right back up. I have a few favorite bookmarks of my own. I suppose my favorite is one we purchased the last time (many years ago now) that we vacationed on Anna Maria Island on the Gulf of Mexico. There’s a small restaurant called “Rod & Reel Pier” that lives on stilts over the water. It serves fresh caught seafood dishes and other delectable delights. It’s a favorite stop of ours. Some local artist created a watercolor painting of that local eatery and laminated it into a bookmark. Anytime I look at it, I’m taken back to that delicious grouper sandwich.

Bookmarks exist because we can’t read nonstop. Life gets in the way. There are other things to do, to think, to act on, and problems to work out. So the bookmark is a non-digital pause button. We must pause in order to give our attention to other things.

If I’m being completely honest (and I am), I’ve had a sense of placing a bookmark in some desires, plans, and dreams for the past two years. This is Friday morning and I’m sitting in a coffee shop doing what I really want to do: write this blog post. Whether anyone reads it or not is secondary if that. The point is, I’ve long since been under a strong obligation to move from what needs to be done to the next thing that needs to be done. This has been my existence for the past 2 years. Please understand that my life has not been 2 years of doldrums or dragging myself along in a joyless existence. But when I assess the reality as it has been, I’ve been far more likely found taking care of some responsibility and requirement (a need) than I have been able to engage in what I’d like to do (a want). In other words, lots of bookmarking.

But I’m 3 weeks from the end of that 2-year journey. I’m completing my graduate school journey. The only reason I’m not buried in a textbook or writing a paper or working on a project is because earlier this week was Labor Day, so we had a rare week off from assignments being due. But still, in an effort to get ahead, I chose to still do school work this week thereby alleviating as much work from next week. That decision has afforded me a morning relatively free from “needs” and more in line with “wants”.

But all this results in me asking you: What have you bookmarked? And why have you bookmarked it? What is it that’s holding you in the paused posture? It very well may be a legitimate list of reasons (like grad school) and you’ve simply had an enormous amount of responsibilities, precluding you from having much margin in which to chase “wants”. But maybe you’ve bookmarked that step or those plans because you’ve simply allowed life to dictate to you what you’re going to do. I wonder where we got the idea that we are simply victims of circumstance? How did we ever come up with the concept of “that’s just want happened to me and I’ve just got to live the hand I’ve been dealt”? Your bookmark might be more accurately identified as fear, as insecurity, as busyness, as financial stress, or due to lack of connection to others that could propel you toward action. No matter what you call it, see it for what it is.

I know its easy for someone like me to sit here and pound out these words and not be fully connected with your circumstance. I know you very well may have a bagful of “yeah, but” that might negate this attempted encouragement in your life. I get that. But what if after honest assessment, you came to see that there really is a step you can take, albeit a small step? I’m a firm believer that when it comes to unbookmarking, no step is too small. All steps qualify.

So pull that bookmark. Get moving again. And see what happens on the next page.

Introducing: The Pivotal Podcast

This time in the history of humanity and more specifically in the Church is most certainly pivotal in terms of how we are attracting (and repelling) young people. Likewise, young adults enter into an incredibly pivotal time post-high school with all the decisions they face in terms of faith, direction, and community to name a few. It truly is a pivotal season for young adults.

The Pivotal Podcast is a monthly conversation hosted by Andrea Sawtelle & Jerry Varner centered on walking with young adults, exploring unique challenges and joys they face, and opening up a dialogue with young adults for their benefit and the benefit of those who are serving them in ministry and other ways. 

We know the world doesn’t really need another podcast, but this conversation is an important one. It’s one that I know is happening all over, so we’re seeking to create a place for young people to connect, to be heard, to voice their thoughts/convictions/frustrations, etc. And to allow those who want desperately to minister meaningfully with and to them to have a place to hear their heart.

Each month, a new guest to walk with and hear from, but not limited to “Christian” people. We truly desire to have a dialogue about what faith looks like in the lives of young people today.

We hope you’ll join in. If you’d like to be a guest in a future episode, just reach out. Let’s talk.

Listen to Andrea & Jerry share their heart and vision of The Pivotal Podcast at the link below! Soon, you’ll be able to find The Pivotal Podcast where podcasts are found. Simply search “The Pivotal Podcast.” Look for the yellow The Pivotal Podcast graphic!

https://feeds.buzzsprout.com/2391142.rss