It’s a good thing we can’t remember the sensation of pain. 

Just a few days removed from the event and I’m already starting to downplay what I felt on Tuesday morning.

It began like any normal day. My oldest son woke up early. In an effort to squeeze in a little more sleep I opted to rock with him for a little while. Only I didn’t last long before the pain began.

Initially, I thought it to be gas. I know. Pleasant, right? But it soon became evident it was something more. 

The pain, originating in the lower left side of my abdomen, increased and became more intense. In an effort to ease the pain, I went back to bed to lay down. That didn’t help. I couldn’t get comfortable and my back began to hurt as well. 

Over the next hour I tossed and turned in my bed trying every position imaginable. My poor wife must have thought I was dying. I’m sure I thought I was too.

About the time someone arrived to watch the kids, the pain finally began to dissipate. Even still, we still made the trip to the ER.

The ER waiting room was oddly empty, which was a pleasant surprise. I checked in and recounted the mornings events to the staff. 

After a urine analysis, and a blood test, I was diagnosed with kidney stones.

They say kidney stones are one of the most painful conditions you can experience. At the time, I’m sure I would have agreed. But, here, a few days removed, I’m beginning to doubt that. I survived. I’m feeling good. How bad could it have really been? 

Our bodies are amazing. How can we experience the worst pain one day, and totally forget it the next? I can’t begin to understand. I’d like to think there was some planning that went into it. I’d like to think it was intentional. What do you think?

All I know is, I’m glad we don’t remember pain. 

Oh, and I’m glad that kidney stone episode is over. Let’s hope it doesn’t return.

I ❤️ My Church

I’ve seen a couple different churches running “I ❤️ My Church” campaigns recently.

At first I didn’t think much of it, but this morning the genius of it hit me.

Not only does it give members a way to outwardly express their love of the church and share it with others, but it also reminds them that they love their church.

I think a similar campaign could be really successful at any church. 

It could help promote pride in the church and their accomplishments.

It could lead to increased participation and buy-in.

And, it could lead to more members inviting their friends.

It really is a genius campaign.

It calls your church members to be ambassadors, while echoing the great commission. 


Do you love your church?

How is God using my gifts to touch others?

It’s a good question. 

One I probably need to dwell on for a while.

How is God using my gifts to touch others?


I’d like to think that my service in my local church touches others. 

While I haven’t had someone come up to me to confess their sins and  ask to be baptized because of something I’ve said or done, I would like to think that I have indirectly had an effect.

I run my church’s communication and marketing. I’m responsible for the messages we put out over the web and through social media. 

Hopefully those messages help people find us, and find purpose. 

Hopefully those messages keep people coming back.

Hopefully those messages are building community.

Hopefully those messages are touching people. 

That’s a lot of hoping, I know. But, I really do hope my work is touching others. 

How do you think God using your gifts to touch others?

The Impossible Dream

I recently read an article on the importance of dreaming for the impossible.

It’s so easy to get caught up in what we can and can’t accomplish. It’s easy to think it’s all up to us. And, when we are in that frame of mind, it’s no wonder that our dreams look impossible.

I am currently faced with a few impossible dreams.

They seem so far out of reach.

I’ve been told they aren’t feasible.

Earlier this week, I was ready to give up on them. Then I read a simple, short article reminding me that I need to give my dreams up to God.

I need to trust in Him.

I need to ask for assistance.

I need to rely on someone other than myself.

Now, I’m giving it a second thought.

I think I’m going to try.

I think I’m going to dream.

I think I’m going to give it up to God, and dream for the impossible. As Don Quixote sings in The Impossible Dream from Man of La Mancha, “This is my quest, to follow that star, no matter how hopeless, no matter how far.”

No matter how hopeless it may seem, I’m going to try to dream for the impossible.

I’m going to try to look to God.

And trust in Him.

I Wish I Could Unsee What I Saw

I wish I could unsee what I saw this morning on Facebook.

I saw a photo that disturbed me to my core.

I wasn’t sure what I was seeing at first, so I had to look a second time to confirm.

My initial observation was correct. It was exactly what I thought.

Perhaps, I’m a little sensitive. Maybe it says something about me and my faith. Maybe I need to work on changing my perspective.

I understand why the photo was posted. And, I support the decision to post it.

I understand that it can be viewed in a celebratory light.

I understand that it can have a positive message.

But, it just makes me want to crawl into a corner and bawl my eyes out.

It makes me want to retreat.

It makes me… I don’t even have words.

The photo represents one of my worst nightmares.

And, I don’t know how to deal with it.

As a Christian, I’m a little embarrassed.

I should have a handle on it. But, I don’t.

I’m a mess.


Listening can be tough.

It’s easy to forget that.

That’s why we have two-year-olds. They are God’s not-so-gentle reminder.

We all have our own agendas, and listening to someone else gets in the way. The message, or the messenger, doesn’t matter. We want to do our own thing.

How do we get past this?

With my two-year-old, I’ve been trying to remove him from distraction by physically taking him to another location to sit and talk face to face. 

I’ve had mixed results, but I think a similar practice could help us adults.
I think this is why people have “spiritual” experiences on mountaintops. They remove themselves from the day to day and are able to find themselves, or something bigger, in the quiet. 

It’s just hard to find the time. 

I know I can’t take a trip to the mountains every week.  With two kids, a wife and dog it’s hard to find any alone time. But, I think that’s what we need. It’s what we probably lack most as a culture. 

We need time alone. 

We need time to listen. 

We need time to recharge.

Where will you find the time?

A Quid Pro Quo

We have a great church family. 

They have been preparing meals for us since Daniel’s arrival. 

It’s been a huge help to not have to think about dinner. But, something occurred to me yesterday. Maybe there’s something more to this meal prep. 

Maybe it’s not really about helping us out. 

Maybe it’s just about seeing the baby.

You see, preparing food gives you a first class ticket into our home where you can see and possibly hold the baby. 

I don’t know why I didn’t realize this before. It’s an obvious ploy.*

I mean, would you really prepare a meal for someone just out of the goodness of your heart? Come on. Who’s that nice?

I’m glad I finally figured it out. Now we can call it what it really is: a quid pro quo. We give you access to the baby, you give us food. It’s that simple.

Now, I wonder if there’s a way to keep this free food thing going…

Do we need to have another baby?

*This is just a joke. I know people want to help out of the goodness of their hearts. A big thank you to everyone who has provided meals. We love you.

Father, Husband, Son


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