The Death of a Hamster and the Birth of a Savior

Alvin was Parker’s Christmas present 2 years ago. A hamster was the one thing he wanted more than anything else. And Alvin came with the whole setup, too –a two-tiered cage, a spinning wheel, chew toys, a plastic roaming ball (with stand). Alvin was hooked up. And he couldn’t have asked for a better kid. But it was more than a pet/owner thing. Alvin was Parker’s roommate. Parker would create mazes, play with Alvin as much as he could, and show him off to all his friends. Parker absolutely loved Alvin.

A few weeks ago, though, Alvin started to look, well, not so good. Our hope was that he would at least make it through Christmas. Thankfully, Parker hadn’t really noticed too much. Sure, he knew that Alvin had to get cleaned off a little more than usual (we jokingly referred to them as “Alvin’s butt showers”).

But last night, Carissa came to me and said, “Alvin’s not going to make it through the night.” This morning, Alvin was dead.

As a father, the most difficult thing I can deal with is seeing my kids get hurt. And I knew this one was going to hurt Parker. As I prepared to tell my son that his pet had died (thankfully he hadn’t discovered it yet), I knew the reaction that was coming. I knew he would break down. I knew he would cry. And I knew he would have tough questions that I’m not fully equipped to answer.

But if you know Parker, you know that you never know what’s coming next. He’ll ask questions that only God can answer. He’ll point out perspectives you never expected. He’ll think, create, joke and love in ways you never thought possible. Parker loves deeply, fully and passionately. And I was about to deliver news that would break his little heart. That wasn’t the toughest part. The toughest part was that I couldn’t take the pain away. It was something he was going to have to face.

As I prepared, I was begging God for an answer. “What can I possibly do to help him in this?!” The answer came back loud and clear. “Simply be there for him. Walk with him through it. Parker will surprise you in how he handles this.”

This morning, as Parker broke down in my arms and cried into my chest, all I could do is tell him that I love him and that I’m here for him. It was the reaction I had expected. Then, before we buried Alvin in the yard, Parker (in true Parker form) said the one thing that brought perspective to the whole situation.

With tears in his eyes, he looked up at me and said, “Dad, I wish Adam and Eve had never eaten that stupid apple! But I’m glad Jesus was born to fix it all.”

Sure, Alvin was just a hamster. And we can debate the whole “do pets go to heaven” thing. But the kid gets God’s plan in a way that I think most of us can learn from.

I know I can.

Happy 60th Birthday, Dad!

Dad, I have about a million memories of you, and will undoubtedly gain a million more over the years. But on your 60^th birthday, here are just 60 things that that stand out to me—things you had, things you taught me, things we did.

Though none of these is earth-shattering, they work together to form my lifetime. I thought you would want to know some of what sticks out in my mind when I think of you.

You are an amazing father, and now grandfather. You have pushed me over my 35 years to become a man of integrity and responsibility. And while it wasn’t always easy to learn, the truth is that you have shaped me into who I am. I only hope that my sons will look back on their lives with me and have as many things to smile on as I do with you.

With that said, here are some humorous, meaningful, trivial, curious, and in a few cases, revelatory memories I have about you (in no particular order)…

 
1.       Your 80s mustache (For that matter, your 80s hair and glasses, too—thankfully that was only in the 80s!)
2.       Your Volkswagen Bug
3.       Tubin’ on the Guadalupe
4.       Your hardtop Jeep (that top made a perfect fort when you took it off)
5.       My 1^st dove hunt (someone winged a duck and you had to decapitate it!)
6.       Going around in the rowboat on the pond outside Grandpa’s house in Middletown
7.       Your motorcycle (I always secretly wanted a ride on that thing…)
8.       You showing me a $100 bill (I never knew anyone actually had those!)
9.       You waking us up to see Haley’s comet when we lived in San Angelo (3:30am seems worth it now.)
10.   You hanging up the basketball goal on Danley Ct.
11.   Our first propane grill and the first time you let me light it (I still emulate you on the grill)
12.   You putting up that HUGE canvas tent in the backyard in Kerrville for my birthday
13.   Boy Scout camping/meetings/fundraisers
14.   Having you as my youth soccer coach
15.   Watching you play racquetball (What was that first one about the 80s look?!)
16.   You teaching me the rope swing over the river at the Sorrells’
17.   The Turkey Trot – every year now
18.   The phone call when I told you that you were having a grandson – best, hardest phone call of my life!
19.   You teaching me to drive (Best life lesson I’ve ever had, “Don’t let the car behind you drive you.”)
20.   The paddle
21.   “Borrowing” your Ford truck to drive to school while you were in Japan—I was 15. (Sorry you’re just now learning about this one!)
22.   When you and Steve set fire to the field in Flower Mound on the 4^th of July
23.   Golfing in the Father/Son tournament with you when I was 9 or 10 (We won!)
24.   Deep sea fishing with you in Florida during Christmas
25.   Visiting you at Mooney (Coolest office ever is where you can look out and see planes!)
26.   Driving into Flower Mound for the 1^st time – you laughed when I said LHS looked like a prison
27.   Spinning out on the highway on the way home from San Antonio one winter (in the Jeep)
28.   My 1^st deer hunt (Yes, you were right, that deer was WAY too small. Glad you didn’t pull the trigger.)
29.   Spending Spring Break of my senior year with you in Galveston
30.   The time you got our Kerrville neighbors to play Santa while we were out for a night (I think I was 8 – that reignited my belief in Santa for a few more years!)
31.   You building the porch cover at the house in Kerrville
32.   Having to tell you that I had just gotten a speeding ticket (I was so afraid, but your reaction was PERFECT – grace and a second chance is what I learned there)
33.   You going to court with me to deal with said ticket
34.   Going to a Miami University homecoming game
35.   Walking through a Middletown cemetery with you, hearing about the history of our family
36.   Visiting Grandpa for that last time with you
37.   The San Angelo arts festival
38.   Laughing with you about certain relatives (I’ll just leave that one a bit generic here.)
39.   The 1^st time you let me mow the grass alone
40.   Watching you play on a company softball team
41.   Your Texas flag running shorts (not sure why I remember those)
42.   Going through some of Grandpa’s WWII stuff with you in the attic in Middletown
43.   Golfing with you in the Auggie Memorial
44.   You taking Carissa and me out after we got married for a PHENOMENAL dinner!
45.   Going to Comfort to help build Tim’s house
46.   The 1^st time you actually let me watch MTV (I hate to admit, but it wasn’t the first time I’d actually watched MTV!)
47.   Going to the Mason’s Lodge with you
48.   Riverhill Country Club – swimming, golfing, eating
49.   4^th of July at Lois Hayes Park in Kerrville
50.   Seeing you at my soccer games in high school
51.   Seeing you catch a bat that had gotten into the house on Daley Ct.
52.   Watching you meet  Jackson for the 1^st time (and Parker, and Matthew)
53.   Seeing pics from your Alaska and Canada trips (although it just makes me jealous!)
54.   Driving in the Jeep at Almosta Ranch…my 1^st 4-wheeling experience (I should have buckled my seatbelt)
55.   Drive-in movies in the station wagon in Kerrville
56.   Christmas in San Angelo when you gave us the electric train set
57.   Your hat collection (And stopping to pick up “road kills” to build your collection.)
58.   Your deer rifle
59.   Your generosity
60.   The single most important memory I have: the conversation with you a few years back at Buffalo Wild Wings about your faith in Jesus (because now I know we will develop more memories for eternity!)

I love you Dad! Happy Birthday!

It's Time to Give

If you’ve ever been to church, you know that time of the weekend experience. “It’s time to receive our tithes and our offerings.”
This is a time in the service when everyone falls into one of three groups (funny how many times the church crowd can be divided into three groups…)

1.       Let’s see what this is all about.

2.       Oh, great. I knew it. The church just wants my money.

3.       YES! This is when I get to team up with God!

For the first and second groups, the only things that can change their perspective are God and time. God will move. The question is, will they stay around long enough to see it? If so, they’ll eventually move to the third group. Or they won’t. But this time in the service isn’t about those first two groups. That is, I should say, it isn't for those groups...not for them to feel bad or guilty or manipulated into giving. This is a time for the third group.

For those of us who have been rescued by the grace of God, this is the time of a worship experience that we can step up and tangibly partner with God. But I think so often we do it with misdirected reasons. See, I think we hear so often that when we give we’ll be blessed (which is true, by the way), that we focus on the wrong side of that equation. We focused on the “we’ll BE blessed.” But that’s not why we should give. The truth is that we give because we ARE blessed.

In 2 Corinthians 8-9, the apostle Paul is commending the church of Corinth for their generosity, and he’s encouraging them to essentially step up their game. And he gives them a promise:

“Because of the service by which you have proved yourselves, men will praise God for the obedience that accompanies your confession of the gospel of Christ, and for your generosity in sharing with them and with everyone else. And in their prayers for you their hearts will go out to you, because of the surpassing grace God has given you. Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!” 2 Corinthians 9:13-15

The reality is, when we give, great things will happen. But the bigger reality is, great things have already happened. THAT’S why we should give.

John 3:16 says, “For God so loved the world that he GAVE…” Then in Romans we read that it wasn’t because of anything we had done. In fact, just the opposite is true. It says that “while we were still sinners Christ died for us.”

We’ve already been given the greatest gift that could ever be given. Ever! For us to think that now we give so that we’ll be blessed is wrong. We give, because we HAVE ALREADY BEEN GIVEN TO! It’s so great a gift, Paul tells us, that it is indescribable.

Now, I know it’s not easy. Full disclosure: I’ve failed many, many times at this. I’ve looked at my situation and thought, “There’s no way I can give right now! Look at the economy. What about the bills. Blah, blah, blah.” That’s why I am taking up God’s challenge to step up my own game in this area.

But this isn't just a test about money. God wants to see where our hearts are.

In 2 Chronicles we read the account of God telling Solomon to ask for anything in the world that he wanted. Solomon was taking over as king of the country and God said, essentially, “Ask for anything and it’s yours.”

That’s our dream, isn’t it? For God to ask us what we want? Well, most Christians are familiar with the idea that Solomon asked for wisdom. But in reality, he asked for two things: wisdom AND knowledge. Solomon knew that without one, the other isn’t really as useful. He knew that wisdom is the ability to accurately discern AND apply knowledge.

God has given us all the knowledge of Christ. If you’re reading this, you’ve been exposed to that knowledge. The question now is: Do we have the wisdom to do with that knowledge what we know we should? Do we have the wisdom to take the greatest gift there is and then turn around and give it—tangibly through resources and intangibly through relationships, time, talents, etc.—to those around us in the world who desperately need it?

Because when we do, men will praise God. Not because we are so generous. But because they recognize the reality that we are all loved by a generous God.

The perfect discription of me.

My Bucket List

Most people have heard of a bucket list. It's that list of things someone wants to do, see, accomplish or experience before they die. The cliche list would include things like: sky dive, climb a mountain, travel to ________ (you fill in the blank), scuba dive, experience a _________ game at _________ (you fill in the sport and the venue), get a tattoo (ok, maybe that was just me)...things most people don't experience or do on a regular basis.

The idea of a bucket list is that, as the grave approaches, we have to work in all the things that make life, well, life...and not just survival.

Maybe it's because I'm in my mid-30s. Maybe it's because I saw that movie a while back. Whatever the reason, I've thought about what would be on my bucket list. But as my bride says about herself, the last thing I want to be is cliche.

So here's my bucket list: grow closer to God.

That might sound like some super-spiritual, copout answer, but think about it. Every one of those things above has something in common - it's about making life extraordinary. That's what God is all about!

In John 10:10 Jesus said himself, "I have come that they may have life and have it to the full."

If that doesn't encapsulate the idea of fulfilling a "bucket list," I don't know what does!

Sure, I'd love to experience a lot of thrills in life. And I have. Most of what's above I've done, but there are many more I still want to do. But I don't just want those moments to be what makes my life exciting. I want every day, every moment to be exciting.

I think that's what God is all about. And as I grow closer to him - through my victories, my struggles, my boredom, my failures, my anger, my joy, my love - I want to watch as he turns the mundane and ordinary into monumental and extraordinary!

I Don't Know Myself

12 strangers sit in an old coffeeshop,
Not one says a word to another.
Each has a story that ticks with the clock,
Yet one doesn't know this from the others.

I can guess at who it is that is sitting around me;
I could create their stories and plotlines myself.
But I'd just be guessing at the lives all around me.
Who sits here? I don't know myself.

I sit down with paper and pen at the ready,
Struggling to capture the words and emotions.
And as every writer knows, this is the point most unsteady.
"Just write," the voice says. "Put the pen into motion!"

"But if it's not perfect" I argue and battle,
"It will forever remain unread and up on the shelf."
So what's the perfect combination of sounds and syllables?
What should I write? I don't know myself.

I finally step out, free, and head 'round the bend
And stare awestruck at what cannot be.
It's easy to look back and see where I've been,
But tomorrow, though I strain, I'll never fully see.

"But I have life under control," I pretend and I say,
"Like a book I can pull off of a shelf."
But as I step forward and into each new day,
Where'm I going? I don't know myself.

Pen and Paper.

Pen and paper are two of our world's most primitive communication devices. Yet, the power that propels one onto the other, found in the deep recesses of our consciences, drives the pursuit to communicate the old and discover the new.

Pen and paper are where old meets new, where purpose meets possibility, where dream meets reality. It is through these two that ideas form legs and begin to move on their own, ever increasing speed until all of a sudden they have surpassed their own creator.

Now...go write.

The Smooth Sounds of ... Static?

Lately, on my way into work, I’ve been listening to this great local jazz station. There’s something powerful about jazz. It calms the nerves. It focuses the mind. It stirs creativity. It soothes the soul.

There’s only one problem. This station has one of the lowest frequencies on the radio, so the signal gets interrupted occasionally. 

This morning was particularly bad. Intertwined with the music of Ellington, Armstrong and Coltrane were the rantings of some politically-charged woman, the shrieking of a badly tuned guitar and the frustrating crackle of static. But I did my best to fight through it all, thinking I was just driving through a few dead zones and hoping the signal would clear. Eventually, it did. 

But as I navigated the interruptions, something occurred to me that sent chills down my back. My relationship with God is too often like that radio station. 

There are times when my connection with God is as sweet as the sounds of Dizzie Gillespie’s trumpet or Billie Holiday’s voice. It calms the nerves. It focuses the mind. It stirs creativity. It soothes the soul. 

But other times, I allow distractions to interrupt what was once so pleasing, so melodious, so musical. Rather than having a strong, consistent signal with God, I turn to him with less and less frequency and instead experience the shriek of an invading world. 

Whatever I say to myself to justify tuning out (I’m driving through a dead zone; the signal will clear up soon), I allow other things to interrupt my relationship with God. And instead of experiencing the joy of a relationship with him, I deal with the frustration of too many things vying for my time, my energy, my focus.

God wants a clear signal in my relationship with him. Because he knows that’s the only way (not just the best way) that I will get the most out of life. So like I have to often do in my car, I’m resetting my dial again. And I’m going to rely on him to keep the static from interrupting the tunes again.

Was I ADHD?

Google “ADHD” and you get about 52,700,000 hits. Wikipedia defines it as: “a neurobehavioral developmental disorder. It is primarily characterized by ‘the co-existence of attentional problems and hyperactivity, with each behavior occurring infrequently alone’ and symptoms starting before seven years of age.”


Now, I’m new to the whole ADHD scene. Sure, my pastor (Ed Young) has a form of it that he calls EDD. But now it’s hit a lot closer to home. Matthew, our youngest son, was diagnosed with it over a year ago (we’ve had him for just under 2 weeks). Yesterday, we visited the psychiatrist who had diagnosed him and subsequently put him on a regimen of medications; a regimen that had to be adjusted and tested several times before the right combination (or concoction) of meds was found.

Before you go further, let me get something out. I’m not going on a rant about the psychiatric community. I’m not denying the existence of ADHD. And I’m not even talking about the dangers of over-medicating children.I am, though, posing a question.

Could it be that our society has too easily diagnosed a child

to have ADHD because we are afraid of the

WORK it takes to parent that child?

In CPS, nearly 90 percent of the children are diagnosed with ADHD and on some kind of medication. As Carissa and I sat in that waiting room yesterday, I looked around at children who were dazed, distant and distracted rather than being engaged in conversation, looking at books (yes, actual books) or simply using their imagination to dream and play. And I would bet that every one of those kids was on medication, and most of them for ADHD.

The drugs (because that’s what they are) that Matthew has to take for his ADHD no doubt effect his personality. But how? No one knows. Even the flier we got at the doctor’s office says, “The way ADHD medications work is not exactly known.” I’m sorry. WHAT? And you want me to continue putting my child through that? No thank you.

So Carissa and I are going to begin the process of taking Matthew off those medications. We don’t think he has ADHD. Active? Yes. Distracted at times? Yes. But hey…HE’S SIX! We base our belief not on naiveté, but instead on some very pointed and alarming factors that have become clear through the process of adopting him.

We believe strongly that God can continue to work in and through our lives to get Matthew clear of those medications. We aren’t some weird “faith over medicine” kind of people. Trust me. Medical miracles have saved my family more than one time. But I DO believe fully that with some direction, guidance, creative outlets and yes, even discipline (a word too many parents are afraid of), a lot of children who were once thought to be ADHD will in fact be found to be curious, energetic boys and girls…just like we all were when we were growing up!

Where it All Started

Just a few days ago, our youngest son, Matthew, walked into his new home and his new world for the first time.

Lately, several people have mentioned that I should write about all this. I’m sure when someone suggests that, they are hoping to read about the heartwarming moments and the amazing experiences and emotions that accompany each step of this journey we are on. They probably want to hear about things like the first time we met Matthew, the first time he saw Jackson and Parker, his reaction to our two crazy dogs and his new room.

And I’m sure, over time, I will begin to write about a lot of that (somewhere other than my journals). But I can’t write about any of it. Not here. Not yet. Not until I share the very foundation of this entire journey.

It’s easy, I think, to look at this whole situation from the perspective that this is a huge blessing—for us and for Matthew.

Now…if you know me, then you know my heart. And you know I don’t say that to brag. I don’t say that boasting how we have everything to offer this little boy who has nothing. I say that only because I am fully confident in God. I see every day what He has already done for me and my family.

I think to be blessed by God and then to deny those blessings in front of people is to spit in the face of God. So yes, I see that we have a blessed family. We are simply opening up what we have been given to a little boy who needs a home. “We’re blessed to be a blessing.”

That’s so true. But that’s also the “easy preach,” as my pastor would say. And it’s not the impetus of our journey. Not by a long shot.

That may sound strange to some. After all, adoption is about having the heart to extend love and grace and open your home, right? Maybe. But under all of that is a word a lot of people don’t talk about. What some people may not see or know is that every second of our journey has been taken with one thing in mind. And it isn’t to be a blessing. It is simply to be obedient.

Those of you who have prayed with us have been praying for something you may not even realize. You have prayed strength into our family to continue taking steps of obedience. But here’s the great thing about it all. This is the part that brings tears to my eyes and causes me to stare heavenward in absolute amazement.

God, in His infinite goodness and love, cannot help but bless our obedience. And I’m not just talking about the Boyds anymore. And I’m not just talking about adoption anymore either. I’m talking about every single person on earth, in every realm of life. We don’t obey God to be blessed; we are blessed because we obey.

So on our journey of adoption, that’s simply what we are doing. We are continuing to seek God’s will and move forward one step at a time. And because of that, we are seeing the culmination of obedience…which is the blessing of another son to call us “Mommy” and “Daddy.”

There Really Are No Words... Happy Mother's Day!

What do you get the woman who is the strength of every day?
What do you say to the woman who brought your children into the world
and helps them to make it through each day they walk?
What do you say to your wife, when she gives color to the world
simply because she is here?

There really are no words.

No card, no candy, no gift
can thank her enough.
The meaning she holds,
the hope she brings,
the love she gives,
the beauty she possess…

There really are no words.

When she walks into the room,
we all notice…and we all smile.
When she smiles, our hearts melt
and our worries disappear, even if just for a while.
To say “Thank you” isn’t enough, because…

There really are no words.

Peace. Joy. Love.
When God created these, he had her in mind.
Beauty. Grace. Style.
What the world longs to see, we see all the time.
Strength. Hope. Art.
There are a million words we could write, but…

There really are no words. Other than, “Mom.”

We love you, Carissa! Happy Mother’s Day!

Love,
Andy, Jackson and Parker

GOD. IS. LOVE.

So vast is his love that the only possible release
Was the creation of its very object—you and me—humanity.
Pure beyond understanding, full beyond comprehension,
The emotion and feeling we know and have is but a cheap imitation.
Cleansing like the morning rain on a meadow in Spring,
God’s love washes our souls and offers us eternity.

GOD IS LOVE.

But to think that, like the meadow, God’s love is all beauty,
Is to ignore the thorns and weeds and what we’ve done with it.
For our sin is the murder of our love towards God,
And our rejection of him exists because we fell for the fraud.
We chose our own path as the roads of love and rebellion converged,
But still God points to the cross where love and sin re-merged.

GOD IS LOVE.

See, love needs an object if it’s really love at all.
And we were the focus eternal of God’s love—before and after the fall.
So living a sinless life so that we may not remain lifeless in sin,
Christ laid himself out on the cross and welcomed the nails in.

GOD IS LOVE.

While his heart was still, without a pulse beating,
The full force of his love for us was right there, waiting.
And on that 3rd fateful day love showed its true might,
For the stone rolled away and Christ emerged into the light.
And as he burst from the grave and looked to the sky above,
He must have smiled knowing the world would surely see now…

GOD IS LOVE.

While we prepare...

It’s a simple sign posted outside the worship center doors at Fellowship Church. It lets people know that while they wait, work is being done to prepare for them. But in reality, this sign is so much more—it is a sign of intentionality, direction and purpose.

Yesterday, as a staff, we were challenged by our pastors Ed and Lisa Young to think hard about what we are doing and who we are reaching. That challenge has reawakened me to the reason I do what I do….and it has forced me to ask myself the hard questions.

As I passed this sign this morning (for the one-gazillionth time in the last 9 years), I saw it for the first time in a new light. It is a microcosm of the challenge that was laid down yesterday.

This sign isn’t just about what is happening minutes or even hours before Fellowship Church’s experience times. This sign is a reminder to each of us that every moment of every day, we are preparing for people to meet with Jesus Christ face-to-face.

No matter what you are doing (and you may not be part of a church staff), you must be preparing for someone to meet Jesus. Every action, every word, every thought must be intentional, direct and purposeful.

While we prepare…
our hearts.
our minds.
our homes.
our families.
our neighbors.
our friends.
our lives…

People are waiting. Are you prepared?

Isaiah 53

Who has believed our message and to whom has the arm of the LORD been revealed? 

He grew up before him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of dry ground.

He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. 

He was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.

Like one from whom people hide their faces he was despised, and we held him in low esteem. 

Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering, yet we considered him punished by God, stricken by him, and afflicted. 

But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him,

and by his wounds we are healed. 

We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all. 

He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth;

he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth. By oppression and judgment he was taken away.

Yet who of his generation protested? For he was cut off from the land of the living; for the transgression of my people he was punished.

He was assigned a grave with the wicked, ad with the rich in his death, though he had done no violence, nor was any deceit in his mouth.
Yet it was the LORD’s will to crush him and cause him to suffer, and though the LORD makes his life an offering for sin, he will see his offspring and prolong his days, and the will of the LORD will prosper in his hand. 

After he has suffered, he will see the light of life and be satisfied; by his knowledge my righteous servant will justify many, and he will bear their iniquities. 

Therefore I will give him a portion among the great, and he will divide the spoils with the strong, because he poured out his life unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors.

For he bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.

Brutal Transparency

Just a few hours ago, I drove off of the campus of my church having experienced two and a half days of the most powerful, profound, spiritually-awakening days of my life. For nearly 72 hours, C3 2011 welcomed leaders from around the world, creative geniuses from nearly every continent and pastors from more churches than I know.

I have the amazing opportunity to serve on staff at the church that hosts this world-shaking conference. I have for nearly 9 years. And during that time, I have had the humbling opportunity to witness firsthand the leadership, direction, and vision of my pastors Ed and Lisa Young, along with so many others, to open up the veins of our church and welcome in these leaders to see what church truly can be and do.

I cannot put into adequate words the influence it all has on my life. There’s no formula of letters and punctuation that would suffice. But in a moment of honest reflection, I have to be brutally transparent before my God and myself.

I don’t know how to process what just happened.

How do you process the power of an anointing, the overwhelming presence of the Holy Spirit? How do you process the prevailing sense of God’s hand on a place and a people? How do you process weeping tears of repentance and joy knowing that the God of the universe is right there, looking at you eye-to-eye, willing to walk into tomorrow with you.

See, I’m an answer guy. I like to seek out the answer, research the answer, put the answer down in a neat little outline with three main points, each with 2 corresponding subpoints. I’m a linear thinker (that is not to say I’m not creative; I’m just different creative). And standing on this point of my little line, I want to know what lies four, five or six stops ahead. I want to address the questions and get the answers.

And then something like C3 happens. And the answers are so insanely overwhelming that I cannot even begin to fathom their depth and height and width. There are no lines around something like that. There’s no way to define it, no way to truly explain it, no way to…process it.

For me, it was a time of spiritual empowerment. But it was not something I will be able to process in the next week, the next year or even the next decade. I believe what God did over the last two and a half days will take a lifetime to embrace, and an eternity to visualize.

But I do know this. I don’t have to process it. I don’t have to have all the answers. I simply have to stand in awe of the God who is here, standing by me. And I have to obediently and willingly follow him as he continues to enlighten me and empower me on every step of my line.