Benediction

The Moms in My Life

My Mom was 23 years old when she gave me life. She already had one son, two years older than I. Soon I was followed by another brother, and then, finally, a sister. Mom had four kids before she turned 30, which is probably not that uncommon even now. What seems uncommon was Mom's wisdom. How did she get so smart while still in her twenties.

Mom always knew the right thing to do. Did you scrape your knee? This will help. Did you make an error at shortstop? This will help. Did you disobey Dad's or Mom's instructions? This will hurt...but eventually it will help.

I used to marvel that when Mom drove us kids somewhere (yes, mothers were running taxi services even then), she always knew where to go. Turn left here. Right at this corner. Right into the parking lot. Wow, we're here! Didn't she ever forget where she was going?

As time went by, those directional gifts probably got challenged often. Teenagers don't take directions so easily. And skinned knees would have been a welcome relief to someone dealing with the pains of four adolescents. But Mom kept life moving forward in a good direction.

Today Mom's kids are parents to their own young adult children. We've already passed most of the knee-scraping years. My brothers and sister turned out well. I think Mom is proud. And I'm proud of you, Mom. Way to go.

***

Now I watch the mother of my own children. She has this uncommon wisdom. She always knew the right thing to do as our kids were growing. I learned so much about good parenting from her. Frankly, she was better at it than I. I kept watching her for clues and cues. Turn left here. Right at this corner. I'm still watching. Still learning.

We're not done parenting yet. I thought that road would end when the kids reached the twenties. It didn't. It is different kind of parenting now. It takes a lot more wisdom. The scrapes are bigger. The judgment calls are harder. And through it all, I watch my wife, the mother of my children, moving life forward in a good direction. I'm proud of my kids. Really proud. And I'm proud of you, Donna. Way to go.

***

This weekend at Lakeside, Donna will present the message with me. I hope you'll be there. This will help.

End of the Year Musings

I turned 50 this year. That means a treadmill test, which I passed, and other tests, which I passed but won't describe here.

My wife turned 50 this year too, and she's proud of that. We spent some great time together this year: hiking Half Dome (twice: once wet, once dry), beaching in Hawaii (and flying an ultralight), and driving the coast of California. Donna has been the love of my life for 30 years, and it's still getting better.

One daughter moved from Folsom to Sacramento, then to LA. The other daughter moved to Riverside, then back to Folsom. Our son visited when he could, and just arrived back from his final tour on the USS Ohio. My nest expands and contracts with ever-greater ease and rapidity.

Lakeside Church, my vocation and avocation, continues to grow and change. We suffered some staff losses this year--those are painful even when they are good transitions, which they were. We celebrated some staff additions this year--those are risky even when they are good transitions, which they were. Our staff is enjoying a time of peace and growth together. This buoys me.

We experienced our biggest Christmas outreach ever. Over 5000 people joined us for Christmas Eve and Eve Eve. I believe the stage is set for the church to grow stronger and healthier this next year.

My ministry outside Lakeside grew as well. I never know exactly what the Lord wants to do through me, and through Lakeside, as I have opportunity to represent the church in a broader context. I was asked to coach church leaders in Canada with Bill Hybels this year. That was a ministry highlight for me--and I hope for those church leaders. I have been mentoring a church in southern California, and I got to speak at a couple of men's retreats, one for Lakeside and one for Bridges Church in Fremont.

And finally, I was invited to serve as the Transitional Director for Next Gen Churches. For the next season of my life, I will seek to lead the churches of our association forward on mission.

For all of you who read this blog, I am grateful. You encourage my life. For all of you who are growing as passionate and productive followers of Jesus, I am grateful. For all the Lord has graciously done for me, especially in this last year, I am grateful.

See you next year. Grace.

Thanks

Thanks Mom. Where would I be without you?

Thanks Donna. You are the best. I love you and am grateful for your love and respect. These thirty years have been sweet like Peppermint ice cream.

Thanks Breck, Bryce and Bethany. Being your Dad has been the highest privilege of my life. I am blessed by each of you in unique ways. I love the gifts you bring to the party of life. I am more proud of you than you will ever grasp, or at least until you have kids, which will mean, of course, that then I will have grandkids, and that will be awesome, and I will be proud again... But I'm getting ahead of yourselves. (Sorry.) I miss you all like crazy. Come home... (Just kidding. Well, no I'm not.)

Lakeside Church, thank you. Thank you for following Jesus. Your passion and fruitfulness is growing everyday. I watch you love Jesus and serve others. I watch you struggle with faith and its application in this life, and I see you come out stronger. Thank you for following me too. That is a gift that a church gives its pastor. I cherish the gift. I look forward to the years ahead as we pursue the mission in our region of the world.

Thank you Jesus. You paid it all. Amazing. Grace.

Imprint, Take Two

This might be an appropriate topic for a Saturday morning.

As part of our Imprint series, we are looking this weekend into Psalm 127. This statement catches my breath: God gives to his beloved sleep.

We spend a lot of money going to sleep. Or maybe I should say, staying awake. I watch the Live Feed on my Facebook page and realize a lot of my friends are not sleeping well. Certainly some of them have medical issues that make a good night's sleep difficult. I am sympathetic to that. But then, what do I do with this promise from God: He gives to his beloved sleep?

Apart from physiological issues, I believe many sleep problems are really spiritual issues. The first part of Psalm 127 is about trusting God, about seeking his help as we build a life, a home, a career, a church. Unless the Lord builds the house, we labor in vain who build it. Solomon is saying: Wait on God. Trust him. Rest.

The Lord was so passionate about giving his people a rest that he built rest into his weekly calendar. He did not do this for his benefit. (Does God get tired?) He built the Sabbath so his people could catch a break. When we work non-stop, seven days a week, we are telling God: I don't trust you. I have enough work at the church that i could work 24/7. But God would not be building with me if I did that. He gives me sleep. I am happy to take advantage of that promise!

This weekend I will give five practical steps to take when raising our children. (Spoiler Alert...) One of the steps is Teach Your Child to Sleep. You might think: Well, sleep is a natural function. And that's true. But since God gives sleep to his beloved, falling asleep is a spiritual activity. Learning how to enjoy God's rest is a gift.

More at Lakeside Church this weekend. Don't sleep through it...

Imprint, Take One

This weekend at Lakeside Church we'll be addressing Psalm 127. It's part of our parenting series called "Imprint." I won't have time to talk about every issue that comes up in this psalm, so I thought I'd give some advance perspective.

Solomon is the author of this psalm. So the wisest man in the world is giving parenting advice, or really, life advice. Here's how he begins:

    Unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain who build it.

    Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain.

    In vain you rise up early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat,

        For he gives to his beloved sleep.

I'm a builder. I didn't even know I was a builder until I helped launch Lakeside Church. Looking back now on 20 years of ministry here, I realize I am a builder. I have initiated five building campaigns at Lakeside. I have helped build nearly 70,000 square feet of space. I have remodeled my house...three times. It seems obvious now: I am a builder.

But the role of builder is deeper in me than stacking bricks and mortar. I've helped build a church, that is, a group of people who are passionately following Jesus. I love that role. I love to help people "get it" with Jesus. I love to see their eyes light up as they begin to understand who Jesus is and what he means to them. I love to build faith into people.

I've also built a family. Donna and I have raised three kids. They are the pride of my life. I've had a strong hand in shaping them in their journey of life. What a privilege. What a challenge.

I'm definitely a builder.

But to me, and other builders like me, God gives a gentle warning: Unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain who build it. That is true whether the "house" is a child, a family, a business, a school, a church or a community. Whatever we think we are building in this life, it will be empty unless the Lord builds it with us.

To me this is a call to humility. I might think I'm a great builder, but unless the Lord builds the house with me, my effort goes in vain.

Perhaps you could push the pause button in your building career for a minute. Stop and do a survey of what you are building: Is God building it with you? Are you leaning on his expertise? Are you building according to his blueprints? Don't risk building in vain.

Vacation & Rest

One of my favorite of the Ten Commandments is Number Four: Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. It is such a good news commandment--God wants us to rest. It is so important to him that he calls it a holy obligation. Isn't that funny? God has to label a rest day as holy to get us to do it. But some of us have trouble resting, even when God commands it.

Probably this is because we believe the world--and our place in it--depends on us working. God gave us a news flash in Commandment #4: Even he rested!

So for the past two weeks I have been resting. The focus of the commandment is to cease. Cease doing those things you normally do that make you feel so important. Trust that God has your best interests in mind and he will provide for you. Stop the frenetic grind of your work-life. Cease.

For me ceasing largely means to let my mind stop the churn. Leading a church like Lakeside is a mentally and spiritually stressful role. The responsibility feels great. So for vacation I ceased thinking about Lakeside from a leadership perspective. (I did worship with the Lakeside family at the 4:30 gathering when I was in town the first weekend of vacation.) I rested...a lot.

One evening, with about four days of vacation left, Donna and I were at dinner and the subject of the church came up. I made one comment, then Donna said, "Let's don't talk about that." That was not simply her preference at the moment; it was expressing her desire for me to rest. She gets it.

And that is another part of this vacation story. Though we spent a couple days with our son in port in San Diego, and though we spent some time with some good friends in Yosemite, for most of the time, it was just Donna and me. We actually are celebrating our 30th anniversary today. It has been delightful. The blessing of being faithful to one spouse over the long haul is great. Not only do we love each other, but we enjoy each other. We know it's OK to be quiet sometimes. It's OK to say, "Let's not talk about that right now." It's a gift to be able to enjoy this long-term loving relationship.

Bottom line: I wanted you to know I've been resting. And I'm looking forward to getting back in the game. I'll be at Lakeside this weekend, and I can't wait.

Grace.

Navy Dad

On Sunday after church last weekend, Donna and I boarded a plane bound for San Diego. Our son, Bryce, serves in the US Navy. His submarine was docked in San Diego for a few days, so we went to see him...and the sub. On Sunday afternoon, he gave us a tour of the USS Ohio.

I can't give you any details of the tour. Well, maybe a few. The submarine has no windows. OK, some of you already knew that. Others of you thought it was more like the sub on Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, with a full windshield and side windows. (If you understand this reference, your memory is still doing well for someone of your age.)

I got to play with the periscope! Very similar to the one on The Hunt for Red October. Actually, I didn't play with it, I used it appropriately. But it was still very cool.

Most people ask about claustrophobia on the submarine. (That lack of windows thing again.) My impression wasn't of being claustrophobic in a panicky sense. But I was aware that I could not look very far in any direction. My eyes never got to focus on something distant. Bryce told me last fall that he missed seeing the leaves change color. If you live in Sacramento you may feel that way every fall. But for Bryce, he couldn't see the leaves change because he was on the boat the whole season of Autumn. Being on a submarine limits your vision.

In fact, I guess that was my general impression of the submarine. All the random thoughts above relate to vision. Life on a submarine limits your vision. Now on a sub, that's OK, because they have computers and maps and charts and stuff. They can "see" where they are going, even though the guy driving the boat has no windshield.

In our spiritual journey, we long to see. We want to know where we are going. We want to look out. We don't always get that privilege. Sometimes God just makes it so we are in the dark. Sometimes his word acts as a lamp to our feet, but the light it casts feels pretty dim. I guess you could say the Spirit is our navigator and that we are dependent on him.

There are a lot of metaphors that can be drawn from life on a submarine. You can imagine more yourself. As for me, I really just wanted to let you know I am proud of my son.