Around 1970 sometime my family lived in Dallas, Texas. Don’t recall why we went to Dallas. My youngest half brother Moon was born on February 8, 1971. Moonman was a great guy. He was nicknamed after Alan Shepard the Astronaut. Both of my of my half brothers Scott and Moon were just as much involved in the church as I was as a youth. They went to all of the same camps, youth group stuff, and church related kid stuff as I did. What I remember about Moon the most was his involvement with the whole “punk-skin head” scene of the late 70’s early 80’s. When Moon finally moved out sometime when he was 13 years old I never saw much of him again. Occasionally he would visit but I didn’t hear much from him until sometime in 1997 when Deb got the news one day while I was working at church that Moon was found dead on his apartment floor in Hollywood from a crystal meth overdose. My brother Moon’s 35th birthday was last month. All I know about my brother’s faith was that he too accepted Christ at Forest Home as a youth and if my memory serves me right God’s grace is just as sufficient for both of my brothers as his grace was for me. As for my brother Scott I pray God sends him a donkey to get his attention as he did for Balaam in Numbers 22:22-35.

AS a young naive pastor I’m still learning. Learning how to care for both those I’ve been called to serve as pastor for youth and families and also to the wider church. How do I effectively serve those who don’t skateboard and work at IN & Out Burger? How do I pastor those who listen to music louder then most people like? How do I preach (when its my turn) to literally two congregations? Still learning…

(Lord Robert Baden-Powell, Founder of Scouting)
If you haven’t read much of my wannabe blog lately I have shared a small tidbit of my story. Part of that story and the proudest years lately of my life have been my marriage to Deb and the blessings of being a father. If you have read my blog you will know that God has walked with us and that we have beaten the odds. I am more in love with Deb then I have ever been. God’s grace has been very much apart of our marriage and if it weren’t for key people in our lives we would not be where where we are at in our marriage today. Come this November we will have been married 15 years. Thank you Lord! I am also proud to be a dad. One of my sons tonight achieved something his dad never achieved. Tonight at a scouting celebration dinner we watched several young men bridge over to becoming boy scouts. Tonight was his last night of being a Webelos Cub Scout. He completed the highest award as a cub scout. His arrow of light. Tonight he became a boy scout. Now why is this such a big deal? Okay. Its a big deal to me more than him. He’s growing up. I’m jazzed. I get to rejoice. I’m his dad. I can be proud. I am proud. I thank God that I can share with my son my joy and love that he worked hard and that he should be happy. Okay. I’m done with the mushy dad stuff. I’m just proud. I can’t wait to see what the Lord has planned for my boy!

I can’t help but think of the numerous circles within the church where you are often confronted with those who love the E word and those who hate the E word. Why does the word “evangelical” scare so many people?

I just picked up Dr. Tod Bolsinger’s book, “Showtime.” I’m half way through the book. Go buy it if you have ever wondered how to care for those in the church who have been turned off by those who talk lots and who do little when it comes to living out their lives as Christ lived his. Trust me in that you will be grateful for the work Tod has done in bringing the scriptures to life.

1984. Sophomore year of high school. Mom decides to break the news to me that shes leaving our family. She reveals to me that Bob wasn’t my biological father. My biological father’s name was Miguel and lived somewhere in Los Angeles. My mom was Dutch. (Which I guess makes me Sputch?) You see Miguel was a Hispanic American. My step-father Bob was a farm boy from Cedar Rapids Iowa. Both of my younger brothers (from Bob’s side) and I were a bit different when it came to who had the better tans. You see sometime before my moms revelation that “dad” wasn’t my dad, (which I figured out by the way cool tan I had apparently gotten at the beach as a baby according to mom) the discussion between my brothers, their friends, and myself was whether or not I had been adopted. Was I surprised by mom’s news? Sure I was. Shocked. No. Relieved. Maybe. Fast forward. 1997. Bob dies due to complications with Alcohol. 1998. Youngest brother dies of a crystal meth overdose. 1999. Mom dies in a car accident in Palmdale. Apparently when mom left in 1984 she moved to Sunland, CA. For years I drove by her house and never knew she lived only minutes from my wife and I. What I remember most about those three or four years was not so much the loss and pain experienced in losing someone. Although it truly hurt. What I remember the most about those years of loss was being grateful that those within my ideal church through God’s doing protected me. Saved me. Loved me. Nurtured me. They didn’t give up on me. They gave me their lives. They lived out, 1 Thessalonians 2:8.”We loved you so much that we gave you not only God’s Good News but our own lives, too.” When it comes to ministry and the ideal church I can’t help but think that my life is much more important to folks rather than my young naive attempts at being their pastor.

One of my favorite of hymns best summarizes what my ideal church modeled for me as a youth…And my prayer today that the people of God will one day sing…

Take my life and let it be
Consecrated, Lord, to Thee;
Take my hands and let them move
At the impulse of Thy love,
At the impulse of Thy love.

Take my feet and let them be
Swift and beautiful for Thee;
Take my voice and let me sing
Always, only, for my King,
always, only for my King.

Take my lips and let them be
Filled with messages for Thee;
Take my silver and my gold,
Not a mite would I withhold,
Not a mite would I withhold.

Take my love, my God, I pour
At Thy feet its treasures store;
Take myself and I will be
Ever, only, all for Thee,
Ever, only, all for Thee.

Amen.

There are a few blogs I cruise over almost daily. One of the blog posts from “It takes a Church” asks the question a few blogs ago what the ideal church is? I guess my ideal church relates to some of my story that I have posted here and there. In a church of almost 3000 “on the rolls” there were about a handful of folks who I would say modeled the ideal church for me while growing up as a youth. It was a church that was accepting of those who didn’t look like the church. It was the church that was present with me in all of my stuff when “my not so ideal” family unit was falling apart in front of my eyes. They were my surrogate parents. It was a church of no strings attached. There was nothing expected back. Nothing I had to do. Nothing I had to wear. A church that loved you with the gospel when the love the world gave continued to hurt and bruise the soul. A church not ashamed of the gospel. These folks were not ashamed of giving to me Jesus as a kid. The good news that a relationship with Christ truly provided rest for a soul that needed much rest. They were my church and they through God’s mighty hand the reason I am a husband, father, and pastor. Called to proclaim Christ to a world in need of hope.