For some reason I've been in a bit of "ten years ago" kick lately on my blog. There's probably good reason for that (beyond that fact that we ten-fingered humans use a decimal number system). 2009 was an incredibly formative year for me: I really began embracing the idea that God was calling me into ministry, I left home for college (following a couple summer adventures), and I met my future wife, plus a whole bunch of my closest friends, for the first time.
But we're not here to talk about any of that stuff today. In the midst of me falling in love and growing into my identity and all that jazz, I had one of the most bizarre and frightening experiences of my life on October 28, 2009. It was late in my first cross country season at Trinity. We were getting ready for the conference meet. Joey (our senior captain) and Bo (our student assistant) and I were a little ways west of campus finishing up a pretty standard run. (I think it was our 7-mile bike loop route, but I'm not totally sure on that.) As we ran on the left side of a quiet residential street, we saw a vehicle approaching us. Suddenly a masked figure dressed in black popped out of the sunroof and pointed something at us. We heard a pop-pop-pop-pop. This guy was shooting paintballs at us! We scampered off the road but couldn't find any real cover and ended up just sort of crouched together. We were hit a few times, including a shot that hit me in my right temple. The car passed us and disappeared. After determing that we were really okay, though pretty seriously shaken, we finished our run. Our coach was rightfully furious when he saw the paint and heard our story. He called in a report to the police. However, we hadn't been paying much attention to the vehicle when we first saw it, and then we were concerned about protecting ourselves, so we weren't able to provide much of a description. Nothing more ever came of the drive-by paintball shooting incident. It might sound ridiculous or even funny when you read about, but let me tell you, it was pretty stinking terrifying to experience. We were totally caught off guard and didn't know what was going on. But hey, at least we got a story out of the ordeal.
Grace and peace,
BMH
Monday, October 28, 2019
Monday, October 21, 2019
#147 Like Family
During Jesus' earthly ministry, He often told parables, stories where He would use familiar things and situations to help His listeners understand unfamiliar things. Many times Jesus began His parables with "The kingdom of God [or heaven] is like…"
At the beginning of the month I conducted a funeral for a member of our church. (I also referred to this back in post #145. Check it out!) We had visitation on Friday night. Afterwards the family had plans to gather for supper at the restaurant here in Kanawha. Tess and Lanie were gone for the weekend, and the family invited me to join them for the meal. So I spent an evening as part of this family. I read Scripture and prayed and sat with them at the funeral home. We chatted and shared food at the restaurant. As the evening went along, I felt like I had stepped into a parable.
The kingdom of God is like a family that takes in a stranger who doesn't have loved ones around. The family sees that he is alone and invites him to join them, treating him as one of their own. In the same way, God invites people who are strangers to Him to join His family. He loves and cares for them as His own children. He teaches them to love and accept others, even strangers, like family members. And so God's family grows and God's love spreads until the kingdom fully comes. Then no one will be left alone. Then everyone will be family.
Grace and peace,
BMH
At the beginning of the month I conducted a funeral for a member of our church. (I also referred to this back in post #145. Check it out!) We had visitation on Friday night. Afterwards the family had plans to gather for supper at the restaurant here in Kanawha. Tess and Lanie were gone for the weekend, and the family invited me to join them for the meal. So I spent an evening as part of this family. I read Scripture and prayed and sat with them at the funeral home. We chatted and shared food at the restaurant. As the evening went along, I felt like I had stepped into a parable.
The kingdom of God is like a family that takes in a stranger who doesn't have loved ones around. The family sees that he is alone and invites him to join them, treating him as one of their own. In the same way, God invites people who are strangers to Him to join His family. He loves and cares for them as His own children. He teaches them to love and accept others, even strangers, like family members. And so God's family grows and God's love spreads until the kingdom fully comes. Then no one will be left alone. Then everyone will be family.
Grace and peace,
BMH
Monday, October 14, 2019
#146 First Date
Ten years ago tonight Tess and I had our first "date." You could quibble about me calling this a date because I hadn't officially asked Tess out at this point, but that was just a matter of me not finding the right opportunity yet. Tess and I were acting like we were dating at this point. On October 14, 2009, Tess and I went to watch Up in the lobby of our college's chapel. In the weeks leading up to that night we'd gotten to know each other pretty well through late night conversations. The chemistry was clearly there. We found some space on the floor and settled into the semi-darkness with a shared blanket. Honestly I'm surprised I was able to catch the plot of the movie. I spent the whole night daydreaming about Tess and desperately trying to work up the courage to hold her hand. (I only got as far as overlapping pinkies. What can I say? I'm a coward.) Later that night, back in the upstairs lobby of our dorm, Tess fell asleep on my shoulder. That was it. From that night on, we were a couple. It was like magic. After we finally said good night, I went and wrote in my journal, clearly head-over-heels. Ten years later, everything isn't brand new anymore, but I think it's safe to say I'm still clearly head-over-heels.
Grace and peace,
BMH
Monday, October 7, 2019
#145 Victory
This past weekend I conducted a funeral for one of our church members. After the service in the church building, we drove to the cemetery on the west edge of town. A light mist was falling through somewhat chilly fall air—pretty miserable weather. I stood by the casket and looked out at the family of this dear woman whom I had the privilege of visiting in the nursing home many times over the past few years, and—among a few other things—I said, "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? Thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."
I've done that same thing with every funeral I've conducted. I think this practice captures something that's at the heart of the Christian faith. Death is a horrible thing. Death makes us so afraid. Death is sometimes so painful for the person dying, and is pretty much always excruciating for those who are left behind. For all of our human advances, the best we can do is delay death. We can't prevent it. It just seems so final. And right there is where our Christian hope comes in. We believe that death isn't final, because God has raised Jesus Christ from the grave, conquering death forever. Because of Jesus, in the great struggle between death and God's people it's God's people who have the victory. What an incredible blessing that is!
I think these moments by the grave are some of the most special moments in the life of a pastor. I have the privilege of standing beside the soon-to-be-buried body of one of my brothers or sisters in Christ and essentially spitting in the face of death. I have the privilege of looking at grieving family members and comforting them with the words of Jesus: "Your [loved one] will rise again." Of all the benefits of being a Christian, I think this victory over death is the greatest as well as the easiest for us to communicate to those who aren't Christians. Not everybody understands sin or evil or love or the presence of God. But I think everybody understands the threat of death. Yet we Christians know that, for those who belong to Christ, death cannot defeat us. We already have the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Thanks be to God!
Grace and peace,
BMH
I've done that same thing with every funeral I've conducted. I think this practice captures something that's at the heart of the Christian faith. Death is a horrible thing. Death makes us so afraid. Death is sometimes so painful for the person dying, and is pretty much always excruciating for those who are left behind. For all of our human advances, the best we can do is delay death. We can't prevent it. It just seems so final. And right there is where our Christian hope comes in. We believe that death isn't final, because God has raised Jesus Christ from the grave, conquering death forever. Because of Jesus, in the great struggle between death and God's people it's God's people who have the victory. What an incredible blessing that is!
I think these moments by the grave are some of the most special moments in the life of a pastor. I have the privilege of standing beside the soon-to-be-buried body of one of my brothers or sisters in Christ and essentially spitting in the face of death. I have the privilege of looking at grieving family members and comforting them with the words of Jesus: "Your [loved one] will rise again." Of all the benefits of being a Christian, I think this victory over death is the greatest as well as the easiest for us to communicate to those who aren't Christians. Not everybody understands sin or evil or love or the presence of God. But I think everybody understands the threat of death. Yet we Christians know that, for those who belong to Christ, death cannot defeat us. We already have the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Thanks be to God!
Grace and peace,
BMH
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