It has been a very tumultuous time around the Haley household for the past several weeks, to say the least. Since Labor day or so, things have just been crazy. Not uncontrollably crazy, but crazy in that there is always something going on. We have work, school for the high schoolers, night school for Christine, drill team for Heather, HSM, adult small groups, various service projects, church, and getting everything ready for Zach's trip to Scotland, just to name a few of the things that have pulled at us.
And now we are in one of the most complicated weeks yet as Zach, Eric, and Evan are in the final few days before their trip. Set in among the "normal" activities, we have to do some last minute clothes shopping, be sure that his finances are in order, go to the good-bye party, and see them off. And yet, in the midst of all of this commotion, I am finding that I have been more reflective than I have been in a long time. This opportunity for Zach is unparalleled, and we are so excited to see what God will do through and with him, but at the same time there is alot more at stake, too. This is his first long-term outing as an adult, and there is a chance this week is the last time he calls our house his home except for between semesters. He has grown up.
I have spent alot of time thinking about Steven, too. It seems that prayers are being answered, and things are moving in a positive direction. We are excited to see what God has in store for him, too. Yet, as he is approaching adulthood right behind Zach, I find that I am constantly questioning myself. Did I do everything I could? Are his foundations sound? And worst of all, the realization that we are beyond all that. There is no going back. No way to redo it if I did something wrong.
Then, the other day I was watching our three-year old playing. He has taken a liking to the movie "How to Train Your Dragon." Excellent movie, by the way. If you get a chance, check it out. Anyway, I was watching him as he talked to his imaginary pet dragon. He brings it along everywhere, and it is very cute watching his imagination flourish as he goes on adventures with it. And as I was sitting there, praising God that He put me in this moment, another thought jumped in to stop that worship. It said "you will never have another moment just like this," and that sobered me up quite a bit.
Three separate instances when praise was interrupted by foreboding. When shouts of gladness were turned to murmurs. When causes for worship were deformed into apprehension.
When I was thinking these things, my first reaction was sadness. I looked out to my future, and saw that at some point all of the kids are going to become adults. That we will have less and less a part in their lives (as it should be), and I will be left with only memories of them.
But then another thought struck me. "Why?" Why am I sad? I have been tasked by God to bring up these children, so why are examples of their growth a cause for sadness? In all other aspects of life, when a project reaches completion it is cause for celebration. The only answer I can come up with is fear. I am afraid for the future, for what is in store for them, what is in store for me.
God didn't create fear. In fact, the first time fear is mentioned is not until after man had been separated from Him by sin. Rather, the serpent first put fear into our hearts when he caused us to turn our focus away from pleasing God and start worrying about ourselves. When we worry about OUR smallness, about what WE are missing, then OUR world becomes THE world, and we are afraid because deep inside we know we can't control it all, we can't do it on our own.
Satan is a funny guy that way. He introduced us to sin with the allure that when we choose based on our own selfishness, we will be better off. That sin only lead to death and separation from God. Then, with death now imminent, he thrives off of our fear of that death, hoping that we slip more and more into self-focused despair, and, more importantly, away from God. He coaxes us off the path, then laughs as we get more and more lost.
So how to cure the fear? Simply stated, I just have to renew my focus. God is doing incredible things here, and what I am seeing is only the tip of the iceberg. It is like a small island that is the peak of an underwater mountain. And while I may not understand it on my own, when I am content to relish in praise of Him for what He has provided now, and let Him take care of what comes next, my fears can be relieved.
Father, help me to be content. Your Word promises that I do not have to worry about what is coming, and I know You hold everything in your hands. Help me to resist the temptation to focus on my worries as if I could take care of them better than You. Help me to recognize fear and apprehension for my future as a lure to take my eyes off of You. And most of all, help me to stay focused on You and to live with your Son as my example. Amen
But I still hope there is TIVO in heaven. Matt was so cute the other day....:-)
Showing posts with label my thoughts on stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my thoughts on stuff. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
HSM Year 2-- The Beginning
So now we are about 2 weeks into our "normal" HSM small groups. We had our start-up party two weeks ago, and our first official meeting last week. In our group this year: L.J., Andrew, Ray, Emerson, Jeff (the returning students), and Daniel, who we have gotten to know over the summer. We are really excited about the opportunities and possibilities for these guys this year.
As many of you know, the high schoolers are going through the New Testament this year. The effort is to read the whole New Testament, because many of them simply have never taken the time to read God's Word. So I have started posting a daily dose of reading on facebook for them every day with a pace set so that they will finish. Can't wait to see what kinds of questions they come up with. And they are reading the Message Bible, so there are bound to be some funny quotes in there.
As for service, we are partnering with the Treasure Box, an organization that provides prepackaged meals to our community. For $30, you can get enough food to feed a family of four for a week, or a single person for a month! We will be helping on distribution day. But our big project with them involves their annual Holiday meal box. For $35, a family will get a whole turkey, veggies, sweet potatoes, pasta, and a pie. We are trying to get 50 of these Holiday boxes donated, so that they can be distributed to families in our neighborhood who would otherwise not be having a meal for the holidays. Our official kickoff was yesterday, and our fundraising goes through November 7. If you would like more info, you can go to treasurebox.org and look under "holiday box." Or you can find one of us at church.
We have also already developed a web page. It is still in its infancy, but we are calling it Zombies With Jesus. I am going to explain our name in the "About" section soon, but it will be a cool funnel for all of the activities we are going to try and do this year.
And as for activities, we are still coming up with some solid ideas, but our first is Sunday night, when we will be going as a group to Mosaic in LA to hear Erwin McManus speak. Should be a fun night for all of us!
That's about it for now. As always, many thanks to my fearless co-leader Evan for putting up with random texts about ideas and such, and welcome to our temporary intern (gofer) Zach, who will be joining us until they leave for Scotland in October.
See ya later, and as our tag line states "Get undead and Come Alive!!"
As many of you know, the high schoolers are going through the New Testament this year. The effort is to read the whole New Testament, because many of them simply have never taken the time to read God's Word. So I have started posting a daily dose of reading on facebook for them every day with a pace set so that they will finish. Can't wait to see what kinds of questions they come up with. And they are reading the Message Bible, so there are bound to be some funny quotes in there.
As for service, we are partnering with the Treasure Box, an organization that provides prepackaged meals to our community. For $30, you can get enough food to feed a family of four for a week, or a single person for a month! We will be helping on distribution day. But our big project with them involves their annual Holiday meal box. For $35, a family will get a whole turkey, veggies, sweet potatoes, pasta, and a pie. We are trying to get 50 of these Holiday boxes donated, so that they can be distributed to families in our neighborhood who would otherwise not be having a meal for the holidays. Our official kickoff was yesterday, and our fundraising goes through November 7. If you would like more info, you can go to treasurebox.org and look under "holiday box." Or you can find one of us at church.
We have also already developed a web page. It is still in its infancy, but we are calling it Zombies With Jesus. I am going to explain our name in the "About" section soon, but it will be a cool funnel for all of the activities we are going to try and do this year.
And as for activities, we are still coming up with some solid ideas, but our first is Sunday night, when we will be going as a group to Mosaic in LA to hear Erwin McManus speak. Should be a fun night for all of us!
That's about it for now. As always, many thanks to my fearless co-leader Evan for putting up with random texts about ideas and such, and welcome to our temporary intern (gofer) Zach, who will be joining us until they leave for Scotland in October.
See ya later, and as our tag line states "Get undead and Come Alive!!"
Friday, September 10, 2010
This Little Light of Mine....
Darkness. Despair. Hopelessness.
Until recently, these were words that had a vague meaning for me. But to be quite honest, I had not truly experienced them. Oh, I thought I had. In my selfish world, when I was the center of my life, there were times when I thought that was where I was. But since I have come back to Christ, and I have devoted my life to trying to live by His example, my perspective has changed. When I thought I was in those places, experiencing those feelings, it was all based on my perspective, not God's. Now, I understand that what I can see is not the whole picture. I realized how little I had actually suffered in my past, and how ridiculous it was to associate my life with such pessimism. I had no concept of the depth that those words can go.
These past few months, my eyes have been opened in wonderful (and scary) ways. My first encounter with the true meaning of these words was in Arizona. When we joined with 3:18 ministries for a week, doing God's work on the San Carlos Apache Indian Reservation, I saw what darkness, despair, and hopelessness is. Parks designed for fun that are ravaged by layers of graffiti. Broken bottles that seem to cry out with the agony of the generations of teens who broke them, the glass shards so abundant and so thick on the ground-- no, IN the ground-- that it feels like darkness has taken root in the place. Kids who know death so well that even the accidental death of a friend is met with a shrug and "oh well, that's how it goes." Just--sadness. It had a profound effect on me. Broke my heart for them. And left me overwhelmed. This is a place where we can do our best to shine God's light (which we did), but it seems like we were just candles in a hurricane.
Then, my lovely wife got into a geography class at LBCC. But what she thought was going to be basic geography is actually cultural geography. The second assignment focused on Eastern Europe and Russia. And while she was reading about them-- highest murder rates in the world for "modern" nations, suicide rates that are the highest anywhere, alcoholism numbers that are astronomical-- that same feeling of being overwhelmed hit me again. And don't even get me started on Africa, where they don't even keep records.
And now she is doing an assignment on the ethnic strata right here in Long Beach. Another shot to the system. There is that same profile again, only in a much more condensed area, right in our own backyard.
Such a sense of loss. Darkness so deep that the people in it are numb to pain. I can only imagine the tears that must flow when God looks down at these areas of the world.
And yet, here we are, the family of God, clinging together like the army at the Alamo. We come to church, and we take comfort in ourselves, in being together. We build our defenses against the onslaught of the world. We picture ourselves as a lighthouse, standing against the crashing waves, a beacon for those who are looking for rescue.
If seeing these things and learning about them has taught me anything these past few months, it is that our view of the church may be a bit wrong. I can't remember where I read it (if anyone reading this can help, thanks), but I read recently that the church should be more like a M.A.S.H. unit. We should be here to encourage each other, but our main goal is to strengthen and then send each other out into the fight again. At the time, I liked the concept. Now I realize that the author may have hit the nail on the head.
I'll take it a bit farther. We see ourselves in the church as a lighthouse, but maybe we need to think smaller. Instead of preventing a crash, maybe we should act as the rescue party. You see, the world has already crashed. There are places here that have been wrecked for so long that they have not seen God's light in years, decades, maybe ever. The people there are surrounded in darkness, and they are so absorbed in that way of life that they don't see any other choice. Just imagine how bright a candle, or a flashlight, would be for them. Maybe we, every individual in Christ, are God's flashlights. And imagine God's joy when he sees the bright centers of the world, His church, spreading out, even as tiny flickers, into the darkness, finding survivors to bring home! Even better, imagine what He can do once His light has reached their eyes!
It makes sense to me, and seems to be in line with His calling for us. I just never realized how big of a task we have in front of us, and the depths of darkness that we can penetrate when we follow God's will. And now that I have been awakened to what is out there, how can I go back to sleep? I can't. I can only devote myself to following Christ's example, and to being the best light I can be.
This little light of mine,
I'm gonna let it shine
This little light of mine,
I'm gonna let it shine
This little light of mine,
I'm gonna let it shine
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!
Until recently, these were words that had a vague meaning for me. But to be quite honest, I had not truly experienced them. Oh, I thought I had. In my selfish world, when I was the center of my life, there were times when I thought that was where I was. But since I have come back to Christ, and I have devoted my life to trying to live by His example, my perspective has changed. When I thought I was in those places, experiencing those feelings, it was all based on my perspective, not God's. Now, I understand that what I can see is not the whole picture. I realized how little I had actually suffered in my past, and how ridiculous it was to associate my life with such pessimism. I had no concept of the depth that those words can go.
These past few months, my eyes have been opened in wonderful (and scary) ways. My first encounter with the true meaning of these words was in Arizona. When we joined with 3:18 ministries for a week, doing God's work on the San Carlos Apache Indian Reservation, I saw what darkness, despair, and hopelessness is. Parks designed for fun that are ravaged by layers of graffiti. Broken bottles that seem to cry out with the agony of the generations of teens who broke them, the glass shards so abundant and so thick on the ground-- no, IN the ground-- that it feels like darkness has taken root in the place. Kids who know death so well that even the accidental death of a friend is met with a shrug and "oh well, that's how it goes." Just--sadness. It had a profound effect on me. Broke my heart for them. And left me overwhelmed. This is a place where we can do our best to shine God's light (which we did), but it seems like we were just candles in a hurricane.
Then, my lovely wife got into a geography class at LBCC. But what she thought was going to be basic geography is actually cultural geography. The second assignment focused on Eastern Europe and Russia. And while she was reading about them-- highest murder rates in the world for "modern" nations, suicide rates that are the highest anywhere, alcoholism numbers that are astronomical-- that same feeling of being overwhelmed hit me again. And don't even get me started on Africa, where they don't even keep records.
And now she is doing an assignment on the ethnic strata right here in Long Beach. Another shot to the system. There is that same profile again, only in a much more condensed area, right in our own backyard.
Such a sense of loss. Darkness so deep that the people in it are numb to pain. I can only imagine the tears that must flow when God looks down at these areas of the world.
And yet, here we are, the family of God, clinging together like the army at the Alamo. We come to church, and we take comfort in ourselves, in being together. We build our defenses against the onslaught of the world. We picture ourselves as a lighthouse, standing against the crashing waves, a beacon for those who are looking for rescue.
If seeing these things and learning about them has taught me anything these past few months, it is that our view of the church may be a bit wrong. I can't remember where I read it (if anyone reading this can help, thanks), but I read recently that the church should be more like a M.A.S.H. unit. We should be here to encourage each other, but our main goal is to strengthen and then send each other out into the fight again. At the time, I liked the concept. Now I realize that the author may have hit the nail on the head.
I'll take it a bit farther. We see ourselves in the church as a lighthouse, but maybe we need to think smaller. Instead of preventing a crash, maybe we should act as the rescue party. You see, the world has already crashed. There are places here that have been wrecked for so long that they have not seen God's light in years, decades, maybe ever. The people there are surrounded in darkness, and they are so absorbed in that way of life that they don't see any other choice. Just imagine how bright a candle, or a flashlight, would be for them. Maybe we, every individual in Christ, are God's flashlights. And imagine God's joy when he sees the bright centers of the world, His church, spreading out, even as tiny flickers, into the darkness, finding survivors to bring home! Even better, imagine what He can do once His light has reached their eyes!
It makes sense to me, and seems to be in line with His calling for us. I just never realized how big of a task we have in front of us, and the depths of darkness that we can penetrate when we follow God's will. And now that I have been awakened to what is out there, how can I go back to sleep? I can't. I can only devote myself to following Christ's example, and to being the best light I can be.
This little light of mine,
I'm gonna let it shine
This little light of mine,
I'm gonna let it shine
This little light of mine,
I'm gonna let it shine
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!
Thursday, August 19, 2010
What role am I playing?
So I know what you all are thinking-- where has this guy been who was so gung-ho about his blog?
Well, to tell the truth, there are a few legitimate reasons I haven't posted, and few not-so-legitimate reasons for no post. I was in Arizona on a mission trip last week (which will be the subject of several upcoming posts), and I have had work and VBS at the church this week. And I have a three-year-old who loves to make sure I don't do anything on the computer once I get home. Those are the legitimate reasons.
As for the others, it all basically comes down to lazy. I have been meaning to get started in my commentary of a couple of books, but I can't seem to get myself started. So there it is.
But I am back for the moment, so let's get on with today's topic, shall we?
For the majority of my adult life, I approached being a father as a mostly activity-based ideal. I played with the kids, took them camping, went to sports or band outings, etc. Supporting as a body in the seats. Oh, I gave hugs and stuff. I listened to the kids, too. But for the most part, I thought that my being there was enough for the kids to know that I loved them.
When the kids were young, I think that was a safe approach. When they make a play, or fall and hurt themselves, they look to us for our reaction. Even when they screw up, they look at us to see what we are going to do about it. It is about shaping their perception of what our love is through various versions of approval, discipline, and being a safety net.
But sometime in their teens, all of that changes. Hopefully, if we have done our job right, the kids drift away from needing all of our physical inputs. If our actions and reactions have been on course, then the kids can predict what those actions or reactions will be, and they make their choices without needing the reinforcement. Don't get me wrong, all kids make bad choices on occasion that defy any sense of logic. But for the most part, their perception that was learned as a child will shape their choices as a teen.
This is where the true fun begins, and I mean fun both literally and sarcastically. As a parent, there is no greater joy than watching your kids grow into adults. At the same time, there is nothing more painful than watching them go through tough times-- bad choices, heartbreaks, rebellion-- the stuff of teenage life. My heart breaks for them at those times, not because I am disappointed or angry (even though those emotions come for a bit also), but because I realize they are struggling with life issues that they have not encountered before. My love for my kids just keeps getting bigger all the time.
So when those things happen, now what? They don't need the physical reinforcement as much anymore. Once kids get old enough, "come give me a hug" or "go to your room" doesn't mean much. It stands to reason that the next step of parenting would be to guide the kids through these times with your wisdom. Wisdom you have from living it already, wisdom from knowing where certain choices can lead, wisdom from getting to other side of adolescence and being okay.
But imparting wisdom is tricky. You can't be preachy, or it comes off as always lecturing. Waiting and watching for teachable moments is difficult when you have hoards of teens at your house to hang out. So you have to wait until they come to you (at least for the most part).
And that is where I am so stuck right now. You see, only a couple of years ago, I came to know Jesus as my Lord and Savior. And I committed to living with Him as my role model. And what I used to think was a whole bunch of "you can't" I have realized is so much about "you can." And the more I take in about Christ, His Life, His Love, and following that example, the more I want to share it with the kids.
But alas, there is a huge lack of talking. Because the kids think they know my reactions, they don't come to me. The communication, the ability to impart wisdom, just gets seemingly wasted. I have so much that I could share that would make things easier for them, or provide them with the mental safety net, but I have to keep it all bottled up. At times I wonder what good I am doing if I have all of this in my head but don't get to share it? All I can do is just live the example of Christ to the best of my ability, and hope that someday they will talk again.
As I re-read this, I am tempted to end it right here with a simple "Love, God." He must feel the same way about all of us. And that, I realize, is my rub. If I am going through all of this, I should know that there is Someone who has also gone through it before. And I should be talking to Him about it, getting His advice. You see, His heart is breaking as He watches my struggles. He is desperately longing to share His wisdom with me. But I have to open up to Him. I have to talk to Him.
Thanks Dad. I hope I can be just a fragment of the Father that you are. Please let me follow your example in grace, mercy, and love for my children. And please help me to be patient to lead. Amen.
Well, to tell the truth, there are a few legitimate reasons I haven't posted, and few not-so-legitimate reasons for no post. I was in Arizona on a mission trip last week (which will be the subject of several upcoming posts), and I have had work and VBS at the church this week. And I have a three-year-old who loves to make sure I don't do anything on the computer once I get home. Those are the legitimate reasons.
As for the others, it all basically comes down to lazy. I have been meaning to get started in my commentary of a couple of books, but I can't seem to get myself started. So there it is.
But I am back for the moment, so let's get on with today's topic, shall we?
For the majority of my adult life, I approached being a father as a mostly activity-based ideal. I played with the kids, took them camping, went to sports or band outings, etc. Supporting as a body in the seats. Oh, I gave hugs and stuff. I listened to the kids, too. But for the most part, I thought that my being there was enough for the kids to know that I loved them.
When the kids were young, I think that was a safe approach. When they make a play, or fall and hurt themselves, they look to us for our reaction. Even when they screw up, they look at us to see what we are going to do about it. It is about shaping their perception of what our love is through various versions of approval, discipline, and being a safety net.
But sometime in their teens, all of that changes. Hopefully, if we have done our job right, the kids drift away from needing all of our physical inputs. If our actions and reactions have been on course, then the kids can predict what those actions or reactions will be, and they make their choices without needing the reinforcement. Don't get me wrong, all kids make bad choices on occasion that defy any sense of logic. But for the most part, their perception that was learned as a child will shape their choices as a teen.
This is where the true fun begins, and I mean fun both literally and sarcastically. As a parent, there is no greater joy than watching your kids grow into adults. At the same time, there is nothing more painful than watching them go through tough times-- bad choices, heartbreaks, rebellion-- the stuff of teenage life. My heart breaks for them at those times, not because I am disappointed or angry (even though those emotions come for a bit also), but because I realize they are struggling with life issues that they have not encountered before. My love for my kids just keeps getting bigger all the time.
So when those things happen, now what? They don't need the physical reinforcement as much anymore. Once kids get old enough, "come give me a hug" or "go to your room" doesn't mean much. It stands to reason that the next step of parenting would be to guide the kids through these times with your wisdom. Wisdom you have from living it already, wisdom from knowing where certain choices can lead, wisdom from getting to other side of adolescence and being okay.
But imparting wisdom is tricky. You can't be preachy, or it comes off as always lecturing. Waiting and watching for teachable moments is difficult when you have hoards of teens at your house to hang out. So you have to wait until they come to you (at least for the most part).
And that is where I am so stuck right now. You see, only a couple of years ago, I came to know Jesus as my Lord and Savior. And I committed to living with Him as my role model. And what I used to think was a whole bunch of "you can't" I have realized is so much about "you can." And the more I take in about Christ, His Life, His Love, and following that example, the more I want to share it with the kids.
But alas, there is a huge lack of talking. Because the kids think they know my reactions, they don't come to me. The communication, the ability to impart wisdom, just gets seemingly wasted. I have so much that I could share that would make things easier for them, or provide them with the mental safety net, but I have to keep it all bottled up. At times I wonder what good I am doing if I have all of this in my head but don't get to share it? All I can do is just live the example of Christ to the best of my ability, and hope that someday they will talk again.
As I re-read this, I am tempted to end it right here with a simple "Love, God." He must feel the same way about all of us. And that, I realize, is my rub. If I am going through all of this, I should know that there is Someone who has also gone through it before. And I should be talking to Him about it, getting His advice. You see, His heart is breaking as He watches my struggles. He is desperately longing to share His wisdom with me. But I have to open up to Him. I have to talk to Him.
Thanks Dad. I hope I can be just a fragment of the Father that you are. Please let me follow your example in grace, mercy, and love for my children. And please help me to be patient to lead. Amen.