I’m at Lipscomb today to be a part of a preaching conference. It’s been great so far to hear from some godly men I admire who have devoted their lives to the practice of proclamation. I have such an appreciation for those who would take the time to share their insights with younger preachers like myself. Over the course of the weekend, I’ve been thinking a lot about my own preaching and praying that God can equip me for the overwhelming task of sharing the Good News. I’ll probably have more to post on that next week.

Lipscomb has been a very special place to me since I loaded up my little Honda Accord and made the short drive from Lebanon to Nashville as a freshman in August of 1995. Little did I know then how much this place would mean to me over the years. Late nights spent in the dorms with my friends; parsing Greek verbs in the library every night of my sophomore year; cheering my lungs out with Matt at the Bison games in McQuiddy; unforgettable late-night devotionals with some special teens from the Northeast and Mayfair churches at IMPACT; sitting at the feet of some great professors at the undergraduate and graduate levels. All of these memories came flooding back to me today. I realized today, perhaps for the first time, just how important this place has been in my life. And I gave thanks.

Seeing all the college “love birds” around campus also takes me back to the times that Sunny and I shared at Lipscomb. We started dating in high school (our first date was my last day of high school), but it wasn’t until the spring semester of my sophomore year that we were both at Lipscomb together. Seeing these couples here reminds me of that incredible feeling I first felt when I realized that Sunny loved me. I remember being so totally amazed that another person would choose to love me. It was different than the kind of love you feel from your family; I was blessed to have an incredible family and I always knew that my Mom, Dad, and sister loved me unconditionally. But they’re family; they’re supposed to love you. It’s one of those immutable commands from God. Plus, Child Protective Services kind of mandates it. But with Sunny, I found a person outside my family who chose to love me of her own volition. She saw something in me worth loving, even in a time in my life when I couldn’t. What’s more, she chose to not only love me in those carefree moments when we were in college, but she actually was willing to commit to loving me for the rest of her life. Till death do us part. It still amazes me, really.

There’s a special spot on campus that will always be a part of our relationship. There’s a swing at Lipscomb where Sunny and I would sit and talk while we were dating. It was a swing that Sunny found when she was a camper at IMPACT, Lipscomb’s summer camp experience for teens. As a young teen, Sunny dreamed of being on campus someday as a college student and sharing that experience with her one true love. Anyway, we would sit on that swing and dream of what our life would be like together. We dreamed about what it would be like to be married, to have children, to have the honor of serving in ministry with each other. Naturally, it was the swing that I took her to on the night that I proposed to her. (For the whole story, click here.) That swing even served as the inspiration for a poem I wrote for Sunny once, entitled “A Special Place”, a poem we included in our wedding program. Every time we’re on campus together, we stop by that spot and reminisce. We’ve even taken the kids to that spot and tried to express to them how important it is to us. That swing is sort of an icon, an enduring sign of our relationship and the love that drew the two of us together. I walked by that spot today and wished with all of my heart that Sunny was with me so we could share another precious memory there. I paused for a moment and thanked God for giving me My Girl and for bringing me to this special place.

Today, I’m quietly praising God for the special places He gives us: places to worship, places to grow, and places to love Him and find love in return.