Tonight we celebrated the new year by hosting my sister and her crew for dinner. We always have a great time and Sunny fixed a great meal. In between dinner and swapping Christmas gifts, we had a special treat. My sister, Tara, transformed into “Dr. S. Method” and treated the kids to a science lesson. (Tara comes from a long line of teachers, following in the footsteps of our mother and grandmother who were both gifted educators.)
Today’s lesson? A dissection of a cow eyeball.
Yep. A cow eyeball.
I have the pictures to prove it.
Despite the looks of panic / disgust, the kids thought this was pretty epic.
A word of explanation is in order. Tara performs these kinds of experiments with her students all the time. The last time the kids were at her house, she offered to let them see the dissection but we ran out of time. Tonight, Tara more than made it up to the Bybee kids.
So here’s to our newest holiday tradition. I’ll bet your sister has never dissected a cow eyeball. Love you, Tara!
I’m currently reading Sherry Turkle’s fantastic new book, Reclaiming Conversation: The Power of Talk in a Digital Age. Turkle contends that one of the casualties of our digital infatuation is a lack of critical self-reflection. We simply don’t take time to think anymore. We’re too busy scrolling and posting and “liking.”
I’ve found Turkle’s words to be true in my own life. The appeal of these all these little handheld devices is that we never have to be bored. Any quiet moment — a moment heretofore given over to thought and contemplation — is now simply another opportunity for digital stimulation. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, news and weather apps, games, email, ebooks, texting…with so many platforms to manage and check, who has time to sit quietly? And I’m afraid we’re raising a generation so averse to “boredom” that meditation sounds increasingly archaic, like an 8-track player of a bygone era.
All of this to say, this post is an attempt to reclaim some space for reflection.
Looking back over 2015, the year began with a mix of joy and grief. In what has become an annual tradition, I spent a week in early January with the men and women of Mission Upreach — a church-planting organization in western Honduras. Some of our best friends are committed to the mission of sharing the Good News of Jesus in this place and I always look forward to spending time with them and their fellow laborers. I also had an opportunity to make some new friends in Wyoming last January when I had the opportunity to speak at a youth rally there. I rushed home that weekend to see Joshua preach his first sermon at Mayfair on Sunday night, which was definitely a special night.
But the early part of the year was also bittersweet as we said goodbye to my sweet grandmother. She lived a long life of faithfulness and I was honored to share some words at her funeral. Her impact will long be felt in our family and we miss her greatly, but we rejoice that she finally received her reward in the Lord.
I was also fortunate to be a part of our church’s mission efforts to Cuba this past spring. For many years, Mayfair has been involved in the work of the local church in Cuba and I’m grateful that we can continue to encourage these good brothers and sisters. I spent a week there in March as part of a teaching team, encouraging and instructing preachers from across the island. Prior to our departure, I had the chance to catch a baseball game at Estadio Latinoamericano in Havana, which was epic.
One of my goals for the year was to be more physically active. I ran in my first 5K in May (the Cotton Row in Huntsville) and graduated straight to the Huntsville Half Marathon in November. Overall, I ran in 4 races this year and while I can’t say that I LOVE running just yet, it’s definitely been an important part of my year. These stats probably don’t mean much to anyone other than myself, but I tallied 200 miles running this year and 100 miles biking (courtesy of my RunTastic app). I’m looking to double those totals for 2016, which may seem a bit outlandish, but I believe in challenging myself. In fact, the discipline I’ve learned through running is a theme I hope to carry forward in the year to come.
Remembering the Alamo
This summer, the Bybee family traveled to Texas (where I made a presentation at the Christian Scholars Conference, hosted by my alma mater, Abilene Christian University). While we were there, we did a whirlwind tour of Dallas and Houston (including ball games at both parks) and San Antonio – which included a trip to the Alamo, which was awesome for this Tennessean! I’m so thankful for opportunities like this to travel as a family and introduce our children to the different parts of this great country of ours.
This fall brought more changes and a whirlwind of activity: Sunny started teaching a new / old grade — she returned to teaching third grade after several years of teaching first grade. The kids got off to a great start to the school year, too — Jackson is enjoying second grade, the twins are doing well in fifth grade. This fall was busy with a lot of athletic events: Joshua continued to play baseball, Jackson played his second season of soccer, and Abby Kate was a cheerleader for her school’s football team. Needless to say, we spent a lot of time on the ball field this fall, but it was great family time.
A year is so much more than these kinds of memories, though. My heart is heavy because I know this year has been difficult in many ways for many people. It seems like the prayer list continues to grow for the people I know and love. But I can also say that 2015 has been a good year. So as we close the books on one year and anticipate what is ahead in 2016, may we go forward prayerfully and humbly.
As a follow up to my favorite albums post, here are my 25 favorite songs of 2015:
Speed Trap Town by Jason Isbell. A masterful story about pain, regret, and finally taking control of your life, sung by the current king of Americana.
Fire Away by Chris Stapleton. My favorite song on my favorite album this year.
Children of Children by Jason Isbell. A song inspired by Isbell’s mother.
Then Came the Morning by The Lone Bellow.
Man I’m Supposed to Be by American Aquarium.
Hello by Adele. The rare popular song that’s actually good.
How’m I Gonna Find You Now by James McMurtury.
Long White Line by Sturgill Simpson.
Bored in the USA by Father John Misty.
Should Have Known Better by Sufjan Stevens. One of Sufjan’s beautiful odes to his late mother.
Daddy Doesn’t Pray Anymore by Chris Stapleton.
The Joke Explained by Wilco.
V’s of Birds by Dwight Yoakam.
Shoegaze by Alabama Shakes.
(I Do) Like We Do by Harry Connick, Jr. Harry Connick really demonstrates his versatility on this latest album. He can do it all: jazz, pop, adult contemporary, even a bit of country-western, as on this stellar tune.
Cumbia de Donde by Calexico.
Fond Farewell by Seth Avett & Jessica Lea Mayfield.
Third Eye by Florence + The Machine. The most anthemic song on this band’s best album to date. I really like this song.
Copper Canteen by James McMurtury.
Lampshade On by The Dustbowl Revival. This might be the most fun record I’ve heard all year.
You Satellite by Wilco.
Traveller by Chris Stapleton.
One Thing by Gabe Dixon. I love Gabe Dixon. I wish he was a little more prolific. One of these days, he’s going to put out a five-star album. For now, I’ll have to be satisfied with little nuggets like this one.
How Could You Babe by Tobias Jesso Jr.
Only Love by Mumford & Sons. I was hugely disappointed in this album. After a meteoric rise to the top of the Americana / folk-rock heap, Mumford inexplicably “went electric” for this release. The songs are mostly derivative and forgettable. Only Love is the one exception.
“Peace on Earth” has been called U2’s most agnostic song. Recorded as part of the 2000 release, All That You Can’t Leave Behind, the song’s lyrics were inspired by the Real IRA Omagh bombing in Northern Ireland in August 1998. 29 people lost their lives in the bombing, with another 220 injured. The song juxtaposes slow-building, shimmering, calm instrumentation with lyrics of lament, bitter indignation, and grief. Amid such violent extremism, the narrator rejects glib aphorisms in favor of a more biting critique.
Heaven on earth
We need it now
I’m sick of all of this
Hanging around
Sick of sorrow
Sick of pain
Sick of hearing again and again
That there’s gonna be
Peace on earth
Where I grew up
There weren’t many trees
Where there was we’d tear them down
And use them on our enemies
They say that what you mock
Will surely overtake you
And you become a monster
So the monster will not break you
And it’s already gone too far
Who said if you go in hard
You won’t get hurt?
Jesus can you take the time
To throw a drowning man a line?
Peace on earth
Tell the ones who hear no sound
Whose sons are living in the ground
Peace on earth
No whos or whys
No-one cries like a mother cries
For peace on earth
She never got to say goodbye
To see the color in his eyes
Now he’s in the dirt
Peace on earth
They’re reading names out over the radio
All the folks the rest of us won’t get to know
Sean and Julia, Gareth, Ann and Brenda
Their lives are bigger than any big idea
Jesus, can you take the time
To throw a drowning man a line?
Peace on earth
To tell the ones who hear no sound
Whose sons are living in the ground
Peace on earth
Jesus, in the song you wrote
The words are sticking in my throat
Peace on earth
Hear it every Christmas time
But hope and history won’t rhyme
So what’s it worth?
This peace on earth
Peace on earth
Peace on earth
Peace on earth
The song opens with a plea for “heaven on earth” to intersect the present. As the names of the bombing victims are being read over the radio, Bono finds it hard to see peace coming to fruition. Trite words do very little to dry the tears on a mother’s face. Indeed, the words stick in our throats, for hope and history do not rhyme.
It may seem strange, but this is one of my favorite Christmas songs. Not because it’s a cheery number…as I’ve already stated, it’s not. But this song finds its way into my heart this time of year precisely because it is a lament, a real one at that. And if you read the Gospel accounts, there was much to lament around the time of the birth of Jesus. There are other songs that extol the moment of his arrival as a “Silent Night” — but “Peace on Earth” takes me back to the cry of Matthew 2. “Peace on Earth” gives voice to the mothers of Bethlehem, lamenting as Herod rips their sons from their breasts and bathes the streets with their blood.
A voice was heard in Ramah,
weeping and loud lamentation,
Rachel weeping for her children;
She refused to be comforted,
because they are no more. (Matt. 2:18, quoting Jer. 31:15)
History provides countless backdrops for a similar refrain. Bethlehem, Auschwitz, Hiroshima, Oklahoma City, Omagh, New York City, Paris, San Bernadino…the setting changes but the cry remains the same: “Jesus can you take the time to throw a drowning man a line?”
“Peace on Earth” holds little hope that an answer is coming our way.
What’s interesting is that Bono changed the lyrics to the song in the band’s live performances in the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks.
Heaven on earth
We need it now
I’m sick of all of this
Hanging around
Sick of sorrow
Sick of pain
Sick of hearing again and again
That there’s never gonna be
Peace on earth
The song was paired with “Walk On” on the U2 setlist and the medley closed with a chorus of hallelujah (as in the video). Instead of affirming the void of peace, Bono chose to protest this theme in favor of a more inspiring message. Despite it’s bitter (even agnostic) conception, the song has now become an anthem of hope for legions of U2 fans, desperately longing for the day when hope and history rhyme.
In a time of great violence…
Among a people weary and despondent…
When all of our hopes seemed unfounded…
When all of our prayers seemed to fall upon deaf ears…
At the moment when our abandonment seemed most absolute…
A promise was made.
At the intersection of heaven and earth,
A child was born.
One who would be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God…
Prince of Peace.
His birth was heralded as Good News of great joy for all people.
And He will bring us peace.
Of the increase of his government and of peace, there will be no end.
Time for my annual list of best books I’ve read this year.
Each year I set out with a goal to read 52 books — one per week. Admittedly, that’s an ambitious goal and I usually fall short (with the exception of 2011). By the time I wrap up my current read, I’ll be at 38 for the year. Not too shabby.
In the course of that reading, some texts stand out more than others. This year, I had difficulty narrowing my list down. Here are the most meaningful books I read in 2015.
“Between the World and Me” by Ta-Nehisi Coates
Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates. By far, this was the most important book I read this year. Coates, national correspondent for The Atlantic, has written a timely, challenging, and prophetic work on what it means to be black in America in 2015. Written as a series of letters to his teenage son, Between the World and Me is a hard word that avoids easy, pat answers on the issue of race. As a self-professed atheist (“But some time ago I rejected magic in all its forms,” p12), Coates finds no solace in the hopeful eschatology of African-American Christianity. This gives Between the World and Me a grim, existential feel which is disquieting, at least to a reader like me who is deeply enmeshed in the Christian tradition. Coates holds very little hope for racial reconciliation in our day; he’s simply seen too much. And perhaps we share this pessimism more than we would like to admit, in light of Ferguson and Baltimore and Charleston, much less our checkered history as a nation. What moved me most was Coates’ articulation of what it means to live with a black body in this country. He tells his son that he is “the bearer of a body more fragile than any other in this country,” (p137). What does this mean? To explain, Coates recounts a time when his son was five years old. Father and son had been to see a movie on the Upper West Side, a wealthy part of New York City. At the end of the movie, Coates and his son were descending a crowded escalator and the child slowed down as he struggled to get on the escalator amid the mass of adults. As this happened, an impatient white woman put her hands on the boy, shoved him and yelled, “Come on!” Coates’ temper flared (as mine would) and he verbally confronted the woman. As the (white) crowd witnessed this, a (white) man rushed to the defense of the (white) woman and yelled at Coates, “I could have you arrested!” As Coates reflected on this memory, he tells his son he regrets his error. What error? The error of a black man confronting a white woman in public on the Upper West Side. “My greatest regret was that in seeking to defend you I was, in fact, endangering you. ‘I could have you arrested,’ he said…I had forgotten the rules, an error as dangerous on the Upper West Side of Manhattan as on the Westside of Baltimore. One must be without error out here. Walk in a single file. Work quietly. Pick an extra number 2 pencil. make no mistakes…Not all of us can always be Jackie Robinson — not even Jackie Robinson was always like Jackie Robinson. But the price of error is higher for you than it is for your countrymen…I am ashamed of how I acted that day, ashamed of endangering your body. But I am not ashamed because I’m a bad father, a bad individual or ill mannered. I am ashamed that I made an error, knowing our errors always cost us more. (p95)” As a white, middle class male living in this country, I needed to read this work. I needed to hear Coates tell me the uncomfortable truth about “the rules” he lives with. I needed to hear a young father (Coates and I are the same age) talk to his son about “the struggle” (p69, 71, 107). I think if more people like me read this work, we might have greater empathy and understanding for our black neighbors. Rather than rolling our eyes, we might more fully understand what “Black Lives Matters” really means. And maybe that meaning will begin to matter to us. That, at the least, seems like a good place to start.
The Sabbath: Its Meaning for Modern Man by Abraham Joshua Heschel. You don’t need me to tell you that we live in frenetic times. I read Heschel’s classic text a few weeks ago and I was moved by his description of Sabbath as a sanctuary in time. In Judaism, the temple was an attempt to sacralize space, to designate a specific place for meeting with God. The idea of Sabbath is an attempt to sacralize time, to intentionally allocate our most precious commodity — our time — in order to experience a foretaste of paradise. Heschel’s work moved me to seek such “sanctuary in time” in my own devotional life.
The Allure of Gentleness: Defending the Faith in the Manner of Jesus by Dallas Willard. Apologetics and gentleness don’t often go hand in hand. Leave it to Willard to join the two in an essential way. Telling the truth in love is a task that must be grounded in the gentle way of Jesus. In an increasingly loud culture where the national discourse is often framed as a shouting match, a humble and gentle apologetic may just be the contrasting way forward for followers of Jesus.
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis. I read this book aloud to our children while we were on family vacation this summer. Not only was there something “old school” about turning off the TV and sitting together to hear a book each evening, Lewis’ masterful work of fiction evocatively and imaginatively captures the poignancy of the Christ story. Hearing my kids say “One more chapter, please!!!” each night was one of the highlights of the year for me.
Kingdom Conspiracy: Returning to the Radical Mission of the Local Church by Scot McKnight. McKnight offers an important voice in the current theological discussion about the nature of the Kingdom, restoring the primacy of the church to our understanding. “We need to learn to tell the story that makes sense of Jesus. Not a story that we ask Jesus to fit into,” (p23).
The Martian by Andy Weir. I also read this book at the beach this summer. I still haven’t seen the movie and I’m not sure I want to — the book was that good. A pretty gripping fiction work.
Counterfeit Gods by Timothy Keller. Keller has long been known for his combination of intellect and pastoral sensitivity. These qualities are powerfully manifest in Counterfeit Gods, an eye-opening assault on the comfortable “gods” we live with all too often.
Play Ball by John Feinstein. This was my summer baseball read. 23 years later, I’m guessing that very few people are still taken in by Feinstein’s documentation of the 1992 baseball season. But I couldn’t get enough. The late 80s and early 90s were an interesting time in baseball’s history: expansion talk swirled; collusion among the owners put them at odds with the players; the MLB players union continued to galvanize its power; and the steroid era was just beginning. But this is the Major League Baseball I fell in love with as a child and Feinstein took me back there with this enthralling read.
Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtury. I contend that Lonesome Dove is one of the best westerns ever filmed. But I’d never read the original source material. McMurtury’s text is superb. I only wish I’d read it before seeing the miniseries.
The President’s Club: Inside the World’s Most Exclusive Fraternity by Nancy Gibbs and Michael Duffy. I’m fascinated by the presidency and this book looks at the relationship between the sitting and former presidents of the past 60 years. Gibbs and Duffy take you inside the most exclusive fraternity in the world.
Honorable mentions:Scary Close by Donald Miller; The Princess, the Scoundrel, and the Farmboy by Alexandra Bracken; Red Rising by Pierce Brown; The Five Dysfunctions of a Team by Patrick Lencioni; Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White.
I love music. This is a list of some of the best music from the past twelve months. Or, I guess I should say it’s my favorite music from the past year. Between Spotify, Amazon Prime, and other streaming platforms, it’s never been easier to find great new music. If you have some iTunes or Amazon gift cards coming your way this Christmas, consider some of these great albums.
Chris Stapleton’s “Traveller” — my favorite album of 2015
Chris Stapleton, Traveller. For the record, I was digging Stapleton long before his duet with J.T. went viral. For years, Stapleton was known more for his songwriting prowess (he’s penned six #1 songs) or his ensemble work with The SteelDrivers or The Jompson Brothers. But his debut solo album, helmed by super producer Dave Cobb (Jason Isbell, Sturgill Simpson) has jettisoned Stapleton to the forefront of the neo-traditionalist country scene. Much has been written about the lamentable state of modern country music (which is neither “country” nor “music”) but artists like Stapleton hearken back to the outlaw sound of late 70s Waylon and Hank Jr. Tonally, this is definitely your Daddy’s country music but Stapleton’s voice sets him apart from all other throwback artists. Just check out the honky-tonk swagger of “Nobody to Blame”, the scorching vocals on “Sometimes I Cry”, or the cool restraint of the title track and you’ll see what I mean. This album is a tour de force from a vocalist in complete control of his craft. The only question is: What took so long? Stapleton’s surprising sweep of the CMA awards stands as a harbinger of hope for commercial country music in general. Here’s hoping Chris Stapleton is here to stay. Download this: the tear-jerker “Daddy Doesn’t Pray Anymore”, the anthemic “Fire Away”, the lilting ballad “More of You” (with backing vocals from Mrs. Stapleton), and the five-star closing track “Sometimes I Cry.”
Wilco, Star Wars. If you’re a decades old rock band wanting to treat your fans to a free album, take a page from Wilco, not U2. Last year’s Songs of Innocence debacle soured even some longtime U2 fans; iTunes users woke up to find an unexpected (and unwelcome) album on their Apple devices. It felt weird, desperate, and kinda wrong. (And, in my opinion, it overshadowed what, in retrospect, was a pretty good collection of songs.) So imagine my surprise this summer when I heard that Wilco had 1) recorded a new album and 2) released it for free download. What’s more, Jeff Tweedy & Co. have crafted their best set of songs in years. I heard one reviewer say this album sounds like a greatest hits collection of brand new songs. That’s an apt, albeit strange, description. The sonic landscape here vacillates between the band’s most radio-ready sounds and the unbound experimentalism of Wilco a decade ago. As rock continues to undergo an identity crisis, it’s good to know Wilco has found a comfortable lane. This isn’t complacency; it’s simply doing what comes naturally. In Wilco’s case, that culminates in the best alt-rock album by far this year. Download this: “Taste the Ceiling”, “Random Name Generator”, You Satellite”, and “The Joke Explained.”
James McMurtury, Complicated Game. McMurtury is the weathered and wizened alt-country act that over earnest hipster younglings hope to be one day. The son of Pulitzer-Prize winning novelist Larry McMurtury (Lonesome Dove), the younger McMurtury is a masterful songwriter and this collection of lived-in material does not disappoint. You can almost see the lines on the face of the narrator of “Copper Canteen” or the collective sweat on the brow of the blue-collar crowd in “Long Island Sound.” These textured characters are complicated, defying easy summation, and thoroughly human. I think that’s what’s so appealing about these songs: they simply tell the truth. Download this: the roadhouse rocker “How’m I Gonna Find You Know”, the plaintive “You Got to Me”, and “Copper Canteen.”
Adele, 25. Most pop music grates on my nerves. But doesn’t everybody love Adele? (According to SNL, the answer is yes.) I bought this album for my wife and daughter, but it’s quickly become one of my favorites. In her triumphal return from vocal surgery, Adele’s cover photo for 25 says it all; this is an artist ready for her close-up. With this album shattering all sorts of sales records (and the subsequent tour also breaking the bank — along with trying our patience with TicketMaster!), I’d say Adele is doing quite well in the spotlight. Download this: the iconic “Hello”, the upbeat “Water Under the Bridge”, and “I Miss You.”
Alabama Shakes, Sound & Color. Three years ago, Alabama Shakes burst onto the scene as the new Memphis-blues-soul torch bearers. But with Sound & Color, the band offers a surprising, energetic, and expansive sophomore album that still sounds vintage but fresh and relevant at the same time. I’m guessing Boys & Girls was more like an Alabama Shakes cover album while Sound & Color is a nearer expression of the band’s sense of identity. There’s plenty that’s familiar here: the working class lyricism of “Don’t Wanna Fight No More”; the smooth soulfulness of “Guess Who”; the easygoing optimism of “Shoegaze.” But this album moves seamlessly in new directions never hinted at on Boys & Girls, from the dramatic and measured “Gemini” (a funk-blues track a full two minutes lengthier than anything the band has ever recorded) to the frenetic punk-light effervescence of “The Greatest.” The vibe of the LP is best explicated on the title track: “A new world hangs outside the window / Beautiful and strange.” Indeed. Download this: “Sound & Color”, “Shoegaze”, and “Don’t Wanna Fight.”
Jason Isbell, Something More Than Free. Isbell’s 2013 release Southeastern is my favorite album of the past five years (and possibly ever). So Something More Than Free was never going to live up to its predecessor. But Isbell has crafted another beautiful and evocative album chock full of the kind of real world sagacity that is the hallmark of Isbell’s art. I’m going to have a hard time choosing between “Children of Children” and “Speed Trap Town” for my favorite song of 2015. Download this: “Speed Trap Town”, “Children of Children”, and “If It Takes a Lifetime.”
Florence + The Machine, How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful. Many of the artists on this list are practitioners of a retro-sound, albeit fitted for modern audiences. Florence + The Machine have fit that mold since their 2009 debut, but once again, the sound palette has broadened here beyond the “art house rock” stereotype. Download this: “What Kind of Man”, “Ship to Wreck.”
Dwight Yoakam, Second Hand Heart. I’ve been a fan ever since I bought a copy of Just Lookin’ For A Hit when I was 12 years old. Yoakam has enjoyed a late career renaissance these past few years. Although he’s no longer a commercial artist, his last few albums have been excellent, a trend that continues with Second Hand Heart. Fun fact: Yoakam’s September show at the Ryman goes down as the loudest concert I’ve ever attended. The ol’ guy still has it. Download this: “Believe” and “V’s of Birds”.
Sufjan Stevens, Carrie & Lowell. Dedicated to the memory of his deceased mother, Carrie & Lowell is Sufjan’s most personal work to date. Not my favorite sound (the instrumentation and vocals are quite sparse in places) but lyrically, this is some of Sufjan’s best. Download this: “Should Have Known Better” and “Death With Dignity”, a poignant reflection of loss and forgiveness.
Tobias Jesso, Jr., Goon. Jesso is another throwback artist, calling to mind Randy Newman and Harry Nilsson. If you’re into piano-pop ballads, Jesso is worth checking out. Download this: “How Could You Babe” and “Can’t Stop Thinking About You.”
That’s my list. I’d love to know what you’re listening to this year.
For reasons I still can’t comprehend, tonight Sunny and I decided to reorganize the closet in my office at home. I suspect every home has that place where stuff just accrues, that handy closet where you can throw things when you’re trying to clean up quickly. Well, my closet in my office has become just such a space in our home. I’m still not really sure how it happened, but we decided at some point that this was the project to be tackled tonight.
At one point, I said to Sunny, “This closet is the closet of regret.” I found old cassette tapes of my grandmother I’d long meant to transcribe; Sunny came across scrapbooks still wrapped in cellophane that she intended to put together for the kids. A lot of really well-intentioned ideas have met their demise in that closet, man.
But we also found a lot of junk. Just stuff we don’t even need anymore, stuff that we’ve moved from one pile to the next until it ended up in this landfill closet.
After my third trip to the trash container outside, I started thinking, “This is crazy.” In North America, it is so easy to be controlled by our stuff, possessed by our possessions. But there’s just something good about getting rid of unnecessary clutter. Between creating the trash pile and the giveaway pile, it felt like I was regaining order over my space.
I’m basically writing this post as a way of reminding myself of the importance of regular decluttering.
My heart is full tonight, thankful for the many good influences I’ve had in my life.
It is no understatement to say that Johnny Markham is one of the most important people in my life. I knew him first as my youth minister. Johnny moved to the College Street (Hills) Church of Christ in 1990 when I was in the 7th grade. Johnny loved Jesus, the St. Louis Cardinals and the Tennessee Volunteers, which instantly made him cool in my book. And over the years, he’s only grown even cooler in my eyes. My respect for Johnny grew exponentially when I served as one of his youth ministry interns for a couple of summers while I was at Lipscomb. I learned that ministry is hard work, but the great ones (like Johnny) make it seem effortless. I patterned my own ministry after his, much like the many of the other young people Johnny has mentored through the years. But as much as I have cherished his role in my life as a wise counselor through my teen years and a professional mentor and colleague, I’m most proud to call Johnny my friend. His life of faith in God and faithfulness to his family and his calling continue to be a source of strength for me even today.
Tonight I had the joy of sharing some time with Johnny in our church’s Praise and Prayer gathering. We’ve been talking about marriages that are rooted and grounded in the love of God and Johnny shared wisdom and observations gleaned from 30 years of married life and ministry to families.
“Marriage is simple when you follow God’s plan. But simple doesn’t mean that it’s easy. Marriage is hard work. It requires energy and intentionality.”
“A healthy marriage requires intimacy without fear.”
“Selfish people cannot succeed in marriage because selfish people refuse to share. They won’t cooperate. They won’t communicate. Marriage is about sharing, becoming one, submitting, becoming servant, becoming submissive, becoming one.”
These are just a few of the wise words Johnny shared with us tonight. I’m so thankful for his influence in my life. Over 16 years ago, Sunny and I were honored to have Johnny officiate our wedding ceremony. We love every opportunity we have to spend time with him. Our only regret is that his wife, Vicki, couldn’t join us tonight. Thanks, Johnny, for sharing your heart with us tonight and for sharing your life with so many.
A friend of mine is writing his second volume on the book of Proverbs. He graciously asked me to send him a statement on parenting and family that he might use as a conversation starter for one of his articles. I tried to be concise and summarize what I consider to be an essential part of the parenting task. Here’s what I sent him:
Gospel-shaped families are intentional families. Many couples simply let their marriages happen. Many parents are willing to raise their children via autopilot. But families that are formed in the way of Jesus intentionally prioritize their most important relationships. Couples should be intentional — selfish, even — about carving out time for their marriage to flourish. Parents should create intentional space for the transmission of faith to take place in “real life” settings — around a campfire, at the dinner table, as we rise up and lie down (Deut. 6). This kind of intentionality is about more than just good leadership; it reflects the heart of our intentional God who created us in His image and reconciles that image back to us through the intentional life, death, and resurrection of His Son, Jesus.
In our home, we seek to be this kind of intentional family. We don’t always get it right, but when we do it’s because we’re being intentional.
already & not yet 