When I look in the mirror, I see a man who has enough life behind him to have learned some things, and yet enough life ahead of him to still feel young. It’s a great place to be, in my opinion. And it’s also a place in my life of increased reflection. Wondering if by chance my life has made enough of an impact that if I were to leave this life today, would anyone have noticed that I’ve been here?

We as humans search for significance, don’t we?

This morning, my wife had asked me to help her look for our kids baby books. There was some information in one of the books that she needed. As I was looking, I came across a three ring binder with the decorative, hand-written words “Jerry’s Memories” on the front. This notebook contains page after page of pictures, notes, letters and memories from students and parents alike from our time in Nyack, NY. As I hurredly flipped through some of the pages, I began to sense that good HAS been done. People HAVE noticed. Perhaps their world WAS impacted by something I said or did. In this search for significance, even the slightest clue that we’ve made an impact is so gratifying.

Yesterday, I officiated at a memorial service for a woman I had never met. That detail was no big deal to me. In fact, my first funeral ever as a pastor was for a man I had never met. I keep this up, and that’ll be a specialty of mine–funerals for strangers. But whether I know the person who has passed away or not, these services always seem to have the same effect on me. I can’t help but wonder what will be said of me, when I’m the one being lowered into the ground.

For starters (as I plan on revisiting and adding to this blog; note the blog title), I suppose I’d do well to live as my Papa did. Papa was my Mom’s Dad. Well into his eighties, he cut the grass of his “elderly” neighbors. I can still see him now, pushing that lawnmower up the street to “go cut the ‘kids’ grass” as he’d say. Wow. What a life and attitude of service to others. I’d do well to leave what I’d call that kind of “lawnmower legacy”. A perspective on life that is not concerned with me, and more concerned with you.

Well, I suppose there’s much more to be said about legacy, but I need to get some coffee and get my day going.

Two days ago was March, 17: St. Patrick’s Day. I sat in my office working diligently at my desk when a mother walked by with her young daughter, perhaps on the way to preschool or something. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the young girl look into my office and notice that I wasn’t wearing green on the day when everyone knows that anybody who is anybody wears green.

As they passed my office door, I could hear the girl say to her Mommy, “Mommy, why isn’t that man wearing green?!?” The mother responded, “Oh, I guess he’s not playing the game.”

Now, I’m sure Saint Patrick was a nice guy. I’m sure he did a lot of good for the world, or for leprechauns, or for somebody. It’s just that 12 years prior to this St. Patrick’s Day, I suddenly stopped giving two rips about Saint Patrick. And believe me, St. Patrick’s Day was always a pretty exciting day for me. I’ve even marched and played my trumpet in the St. Patrick’s Day Parade in New York City. But 12 years ago, March 17 stopped being about green clovers, pots of gold, or little men in knickers. Why? Because my oldest daughter was born on March 17, 1997. And suddenly the traditions of a hollow holiday faded into nothing, and the day became about celebrating the birth of our daughter.

And I want the same to be true in my life of worship. Way too easily, what I tend to lean on are traditions and rituals and lose the focus of the relationship with God, my Creator. I can go about my everyday life with a sense of routine that leads me to feeling less than passionate about the love relationship with Jesus that He came to provide.

And I wish I had a nickel for every person who scolded me for not wearing green on March 17th. It’s simply because that day means something different to me.

Two days ago was March, 17: St. Patrick’s Day. I sat in my office working diligently at my desk when a mother walked by with her young daughter, perhaps on the way to preschool or something. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the young girl look into my office and notice that I wasn’t wearing green on the day when everyone knows that anybody who is anybody wears green.

As they passed my office door, I could hear the girl say to her Mommy, “Mommy, why isn’t that man wearing green?!?” The mother responded, “Oh, I guess he’s not playing the game.”

Now, I’m sure Saint Patrick was a nice guy. I’m sure he did a lot of good for the world, or for leprechauns, or for somebody. It’s just that 12 years prior to this St. Patrick’s Day, I suddenly stopped giving two rips about Saint Patrick. And believe me, St. Patrick’s Day was always a pretty exciting day for me. I’ve even marched and played my trumpet in the St. Patrick’s Day Parade in New York City. But 12 years ago, March 17 stopped being about green clovers, pots of gold, or little men in knickers. Why? Because my oldest daughter was born on March 17, 1997. And suddenly the traditions of a hollow holiday faded into nothing, and the day became about celebrating the birth of our daughter.

And I want the same to be true in my life of worship. Way too easily, what I tend to lean on are traditions and rituals and lose the focus of the relationship with God, my Creator. I can go about my everyday life with a sense of routine that leads me to feeling less than passionate about the love relationship with Jesus that He came to provide.

And I wish I had a nickel for every person who scolded me for not wearing green on March 17th. It’s simply because that day means something different to me.

On my way to work today, I was driving behind a car made by Suzuki. I knew Suzuki made cars, but I hadn’t ever heard of this particular model. The back of the car was all dented in, but ironically it still had the plaque on it that told the model’s name: “Esteem”

Not sure how this video fits into our series? Come to the Mixx on Sunday and find out!

For the past week, we’ve read the first chapter of John everyday, even more than once a day. As we’ve looked together at this chapter, I hope that you’ve been encouraged and challenged by the repetition and deeper understanding of this powerful portion of the Bible.

But my question for you now is, where will you go next? Will you dedicate the next week to John 2 (which has the recorded story of Jesus’ first public miracle)? If you do, I’d like to link you up with a blog I did several months ago. You can find it here. Or will you give some time to Joel?

Once you decide on a verse, a chapter, or a word that God is leading you to, share it with us. Let us know in the comment section, and feel free to share your thoughts on what you’re reading!

These past 2 weeks, I’ve been trying to stay faithful (almost daily) to a blog I’ve set up for a series we’re doing in our student ministry. The series is called “Digging Deep Without Getting Buried.” It’s been all about the Bible, how we view it, why we read it, why we dont’, how we read it, where it came from, how we can trust it as truth, how to understand it, how to apply it, etc.

So, I’ve been trying to stay faithful to that, and consequently haven’t been doing much here. If you’d like to read what’s been written for that series (this Sunday is week 3 of 4), then you can go to imdiggingdeep.blogspot.com