After my father passed and the church he led for 30+ years basically imploded (that’s purposely hyperbolic because in my heart it did) I am realizing that I have grown very bitter over that disappointment. Most tell me it wasn’t his fault or you can’t control what people do in tense situations, but I have come to realize that the unfolding of my life-long home church (again my hyperbole) was truly the greatest disappointment in my life up to this point. It was part of my identity and it’s gone. Perhaps it wasn’t supposed to have such a place in my heart, but it hurts.

Losing my dad hurt, but sadness is different than bitterness. Before all this, I have never once questioned my faith after becoming a Christian in my late elementary years at a small church camp one late summer. My faith felt like a steady cruise boat sailing in open and calms seas. Don’t get me wrong because I have had lots of difficulty, challenge, and disappointment since then, but for so long I knew God was good and real. I do recognize some of that foundation was my father and church and was only time before it unraveled a bit. The Lord tests us for good purpose.

I lost one part of my foundation a few years ago, but the other (my church) didn’t feel like something I had to lose. I have never been so confused and hurt by the actions of others and it has shaken me to the point I’ve been asking myself a question I’ve never asked before—Is God real? Maybe we are all just playing some big stupid Darwinian game. Many who have deconstructed have likely been pushed to this very point not because of their disappointment with God but rather the bitterness stemming from the actions of those who represent Christ. My new pastor says it well, “Most people don’t accept the claims of Christ…not because they see failure in those claims but because the church disappoints them. They grow bitter.

I’ve grown bitter, and I hate what it has made me become.

I’m less hopeful. I’m indifferent. I don’t get as excited. I worry more. I don’t feel physically as healthy. Some may say I’ve been depressed, which is likely true, but a bitter root feels like something more twisted inside of me rather than empty. It leaves me uneasy and without peace.

In my life, there is so much to be joyful and thank for—I really like my new job and people I work with, I think the new pastor I work with is a great man of God with a vision, and my family continues to grow and mature as one would hope. But yet I still feel the gravitational pull of the last four and a half years and all the disappointment of my church. It’s a bitter root, and it’s time for it to go.

In the days to come, I’m going to be praying, searching, and talking with others about this bitter root. I’m know I’m going hear the gamut of recommendations around forgiveness, asking for inner healing, praying against spiritual stronghold, and everything in-between. I will share everything I can as it comes, and I pray the Lord will do a work in me and all those who have been stung by disappointment. Instead of avoiding it, I want to untangle this knot in my heart and stomach.

Ephesians 4:31-32 Let all bitterness, anger and wrath, shouting and slander be removed from you, along with all malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.

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A few months ago, my youngest son was playing with two neighborhood boys at a house close to the entrance off the main road. Eventually he came home for dinner and said goodbye to his friends—all normal neighborhood stuff.

After dinner, my wife left to pickup my oldest from some sports practice. Upon return, back at the entrance of the neighborhood, my wife and daughter were met with a swarm of police cars. A red car was parked to the side with the no sign of damage, but in the middle of the street was Kipp, a young boy who was just playing with my son an hour before, kneeling on the ground head down. All was normal that day until it wasn’t—Kipp had been hit by a car. The boy, with his mother by his side, was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance, their dad trailing behind in their car.

Kipp is a survivor and his parents and siblings are fighters, and they have been battling for his recovery ever since. He has progressed a lot, and his dad writes these amazingly detailed and emotion-filled updates for all who follow along. The entire community has rallied around the boy and his family in a unified cry of #Kippstrong47. As a dad, I couldn’t imagine what he has gone through these last few months, but there is hope. When I saw him cutting his grass it felt so normal yet cruel that he had to do such a mundane thing in the midst of such life changing events. Perhaps it was nice distraction I hope.

Kipp's story

Life truly stops for no one. Even if you think about the momentous events in global history, off somewhere in the world some mundane thing was happening. It may sound a little sacrilegious, but even in the moment of Christ’s death and resurrection somebody in the world was cooking a meal or cleaning up their house. Life doesn’t stop. When we tell stories, it is as if nothing else is happening in the world but the story and actions of the main character(s). In any Marvel superhero movie those characters’ crucial moments literally decide the fate of an unassuming city, planet, or universe. But our lives aren’t Marvel movies. For Kipp’s dad and family everything changed that day. For our family, life as we have known it continued when our youngest came back for dinner. Yet, this man and I both have to cut our grass weekly because it is the summer and it’s rained a lot this year. When we mow, no movie music plays in the background in some epic attempt to dramatize our lives. Life just continues.

Towards the end of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Ring’s saga, a character named Samwise Gamgee exclaimed that, “All sad things become untrue,” after finding out his dear friend, Gandalf, was now alive. Someone talked about that line and connected it to this verse:

Revelation 21:4 He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

Tolkien knew our lives were culminating to something new. We who are in the Lord—poor, rich, weak, and strong—head towards the same end.

Sometimes we wish life could freeze in place or reverse to a better time and stay put. I wish that a lot. But if life were to ever stop we would never get to that time in the future of Revelation 21:4…to a new order of things. I look forward to that new order. I am sure many of us do after experiencing the irreversible difficulties of life. Tolkien would have known the horrors of two world wars in his life, so I am sure he looked forward to that new order. We can only pray that life does continue to a new order until we see a time where Kipp’s dad and I will cut grass in true peace. Until then we show the resolve and strength God gives His people because we hope for a better tomorrow.

#Kippstrong47

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One war would end, but another much closer to home would begin in the 1950s. Like so many she would move around until she could find a safe place. The war was difficult on a pre-teen, but the war would also introduce aid and influence from the United States in the years after. This included Ford Motor Company helping Hyundai launch its first car in 1967-68, the Cortina. I am not sure if she or her family owned one, but I’m sure she saw them buzz around Seoul while she went to school and worked as young adult woman. As post-war Korea would remain in the doldrums of rebuilding, she refused to stay still and moved United States in early 70s to marry her future husband in different land.

After moving to the US, my parents’ first new car was an ascot blue 1971 Chevy Camaro, a two door American steel muscle car, which was an impractical purchase for a growing family at the time. But they wouldn’t have known how quickly a future child and elderly parents would push them for larger car so soon. A two door sports car would be replaced with a family station wagon and would kick off a series of family station wagons and minivans for the next few decades. My mother would drive each car to her beauty supply business everyday, pick me up off from school activities, and shuttle us all to church two to three times a week. I don’t remember my mother sitting down once. She was always on the go, always driving somewhere.

Both my parents were good drivers throughout their entire lives, but my mom had an uncanny sense of direction all the way up to her 80s. For decades she would drive my dad to a second church an hour away from where we lived, so he could serve a tiny Korean population in the Athens, Ohio so they could have a service in their native tongue. She would drive, and he would sit and read his Bible in preparation. Over 30 years she drove over 300,000 miles to that little church. When she had to finally stop driving after my dad passed because of her dementia (she mistakenly ended up in a city two hours away from us, so we knew she was done driving), it was sad to see her lose her freedom to cruise the freeways. Even now, her favorite thing to do is have someone drive her anywhere, so she can take in the sights and feel that sense of motion and movement. She remembers little in life, but she still loves that feeling of moving in a car. I can’t explain what about motion she enjoys, but I know that I have the same feeling when I move. We were made to move.

Recently, while in Los Angeles I was driving her and my kids around they city, and we saw several Waymo cars navigating the city. Waymo cars are fully autonomous vehicles which continue to get better and better in traversing cities like Los Angeles. In layman’s terms, these cars do not human driver.

Every time we saw a Waymo it was right out of reach for us to look inside, but sure enough I spotted one right ahead me slowing down for a red light. I shifted to the lane beside the car, so we could all stop and peer inside. “Mom, look over here. No one is driving that car,” I said.

Perplexed, she said, “Why is that car in the middle of the road without a person?”

“This car drives itself.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she snapped back at me with an concerned look. “Someone is driving it remotely, right?”

The traffic light turned green, and I told her watch as the Waymo car sped off. She had this look of horror that made me laugh. She wouldn’t remember this moment, but maybe there will be a day an elderly woman with dementia can get into a self-driving car without the aid of her kids or grandkids and end up exactly where she needs to be all by herself again.

(In the clip below you’ll see my kids were just as taken back seeing an empty car drive itself. What will we they and I see in a few decades—hovering cars?)

There are several verses in Psalm about being still before God (e.g., Psalm 46:10). I feel all my life I’ve been told to be more still and more present. I’m sure my mother was told the same in her life. People who like perpetual motion certainly can fall prey in moving too quickly and in the wrong direction. Psalm 104:5 says, “He set the earth on its foundations, so that it should never be moved.” The irony of that is the earth may feel still, but it never stops rotating and moving around the sun. There are no seasons and there is no day and night without movement. The earth will not be moved by something else, but God designed it to always be moving.

Like driving a car though, I bet what my mom and I really enjoy about driving and being in motion is being in control of our motion. The idea of a Waymo car is absolutely terrifying because of it. But we have to keep moving because that’s the way God designed me and her. People who like to move can also fall prey to focusing more on the destination and forget the ride. It is always what’s the next thing and how do we get there. Life doesn’t stop for any of us, but how do we keep moving but take in the surroundings and people more intentionally? How does the earth feel so still, but in reality move so rapidly? Going forward, I pray I will move with the Lord’s leading and also cherish the ride I am on to move towards my heavenly prize (Philippians 3:14) while cherishing the one’s around me.

• Are you more an enjoy the ride person or get to the destination as quickly as possible person? How does it affect how you relate to God?

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I lost my aunt last year and the first year has gone so quick. It feels like just yesterday she passed away. I was really really close to her, and she was my second mom especially after moving to Columbus. I had family in Columbus while I was going to school, but I always felt alone. When she moved to Columbus, she bought a little of home with her. I started to spend more time with her and stay over at her house like when I was younger. I enjoyed her presence every time I was around her. She was my color yellow. During that time she unfortunately had a stroke shortly after moving to Columbus. It was definitely hard for her during physical therapy. She was still smiling and laughing but there were times when she would be depressed because she needed assistance with things that she used to do on her own. I wanted to make sure she didn’t feel alone, so every morning I would go visit her in rehab and be there during physical therapy to encourage her to keep going. She improved while she was there so they sent her home. I would go over to help her just cause I enjoyed spending time with her. One conversation I remembered with her was how she was tired and wanted to be completely independent again. She even told me that if something happened where she had to be on a machine and couldn’t do anything on her own…she wanted the family to let her be with her parents with Jesus. 

PSALM 34:18 THE LORD IS NEAR TO THOSE WHO HAVE A BROKEN HEART, AND SAVES SUCH AS HAVE A CONTRITE SPIRIT

June 2024, I got a call from my cousin panicking cause my auntie was in the hospital and she was unresponsive. She had a seizure and a stroke while she was at home by herself. Her oldest daughter had tried calling my auntie because they talk everyday. It was unusual for her to not answer the phone. So, she called her youngest sister to check up on her cause the oldest was two hours away. The youngest found her mom (my aunt) on the floor foaming from the mouth. June 19th, 2024 was the last time my cousin spoke to her mother. She passed away in August 2024. She was on the ventilator days prior, then after taking her off for a couple of days she was surrounded by family and responding. Then one day when she was alone with her oldest daughter and passed away to be with her parents and Jesus. When I looked into my cousin's eyes I saw a piece of her die. Her mother was her best friend, and she had left so early. My mother and other aunt lost their baby sister. My auntie Kala was the glue of the family. She kept us together, and she was definitely the life of our family. Every time I see my cousin, she pretends to be happy.

Dealing with grief from the loss of a loved one is so difficult. I am still grieving my auntie. Sometimes I might get a Big Mac and start to cry because that was one of my student’s favorite things to eat, and it was the last thing I got him before he passed away. Or when I hear a certain song that was my co-worker’s favorite before her life was taken. Passing by the hospital reminds me of my nephew and his heart surgery in Columbus. Even after some time has passed I still think about those who have passed away. It hurts but God is with us in those moments, and I know I can cry to him and he hears me. 

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This commercial spot was running while I was there visiting, and its opening line caught my ear.

This one minute montage could have very well been shots of US cities and citizens, but Kiefer Sutherland (a Hollywood actor from Canada) opens up and asks, “How come we never talk about the Canadian dream?” I am going to state the most US-centric thing possible–I thought there was only the American dream we were debating whether it still exists or not. But apparently there are other dreams too.

This got me wondering how many dreams there are? Is there a [fill in the blank country] dream? A Christian dream? For me, a Korean-American Christian dream? You name your bubble, and I am sure there is some sixty second commercial dream that could sum it up pretty nicely. My question is how do I know if I have achieved my dream. I have felt like my dreams have been like a phantom–I can see it for a moment but can’t quite touch it or capture it.

When life is a struggle, your mental health reeling, your physical self compromised most aren’t thinking about their dreams. We just want to survive. In my 20s and 30s I always felt this tension of whether I was achieving my dream or debating what my dream even was. After a loss or trauma (in my case my father passing) I know what it feels like to just want to survive. Dreams are a luxury at that point. It feels like I may be approaching a time where I can start dreaming again though. I’m not sure, but it’s nice to think I may be.

Proverbs 29:18-19 NLT says, When people do not accept divine guidance, they run wild. But whoever obeys the law is joyful. Words alone will not discipline a servant; the words may be understood, but they are not heeded.

Divine guidance or in the KJV or ESV–vision or prophetic vision—that sounds nice. Some get caught up in the meaning of “divine guidance” or “vision,” but I think we can understand what the opposite reality is when we don’t have those things–we feel lost or chaotic. I want to dream again, see God reveal a plan little by little, and feel the high of the anticipation. Or in the opposite–I don’t want to feel lost anymore. It’s that space right between anticipation and settling that I think God may be cooking. And it’s not a destination, but an act of being in God’s presence.

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My youngest had a field day during the last week of Elementary school. Pirate themed and true blue skies as the backdrop, the fields behind the school were transformed into an outdoor labyrinth of different pirate stations. I found my way through to the “Cannons Away” station, a tee ball spot with ship targets and the grand prize of longest cannon shot.

Kids in Kindergarten through Fifth funneled through our station, and the older kids sought to launch the ball as far as they could and the little ones were happy to just make contact. When the kids would hit, many would take their three at-bats and then quickly go back into their designated line. Interestingly, for some of the younger kids and even some older ones after each hit they would pause and then look back at the next kid in line or even at me to fish for our reaction to their at-bat. Would we be laughing when they grounded out? Did we snicker when they whiffed? It was a quick glance and you’d barely notice it, but it was apparent some kids really cared about what others thought about their mistakes and others did not. What the kids who looked back didn’t realize is how much of their concentration they were breaking when they did that. Their next hit was never better than the first one. It was those kids who whiffed on their first, then repositioned and focused who did better. I feel like I’m always looking over my back to see who is watching me with a critical eye.

Not everyone grows up as a pastor's kid like I did, but most all know the stereotypes–wildly rebellious or choir angel. Regardless of which version, one thing holds true for both–most everyone in your church is watching you and forming an opinion of you. Same goes for every kid whose parents were some kind of leader in their church. Some spotlights are bigger than others, but when you swing and miss in life you wait to see who is judging you. But is anyone really watching me still? Even if they are, does it matter what they are thinking? Can what they think really change the immediate course of my life?

The answer most times is no. Yet I want to know they still approve of me. The bigger insight here is I’m middle aged, and I still think like I’m in middle school. It’s weird. My “Christian” self says that caring about what others think of me is a version of loving others. I’m not sure that’s completely accurate. We should consider how we are affecting people, but when that 3rd grade girl swung at a ball on a tee, missed, and peered back into my eyes to see how I would react, she wasn’t doing that for me. When I overthink about what people think of me, I’m not doing that to love them. If it’s not helping me or helping others it’s time to move forward.

• When you care so deeply about what others think of you, do ever explain it away as something you do to love them?

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Since my father passed away a few years ago, I have thought more about death than any other time in my life. Also in your mid-life the sense of one’s mortality begins to become a less abstract idea and something that you know will happen to all of us eventually.

Last week I was on a flight from St. Louis back to Columbus and though it was a short flight, it was turbulent. It isn’t that I’ve never experienced turbulence before, but I can see why people don’t like flying. Yes, driving a car is statistically more dangerous (so I’ve heard) and you can’t control what others are doing, but flying in a steel tub that bounces up and down and contorts through the air just doesn’t feel great anymore. Talking to a commercial pilot since that flight, he advised me storms have been tough through the Midwest that last few weeks.

“How dangerous is turbulence?” I asked.

“99% it will be nothing. It feels worse than it is. You could drop a 100 feet and we’d be fine.”

I’m not sure that exactly made me feel better, but I knew he was right. I just had to believe that again like I used to. Before my rational brain would just take over, but as I’m getting older I can feel other parts of myself—the less rational—appear and I am learning to adapt. But the most important thing I must remember is that I will adapt because that was God made us to do. Change is good.

For so long, I told myself and others that I am fine with change and even embrace it. What I didn’t realize is that when change draws closer to your foundations of life—your faith, loss of loved ones, other difficult situations—I never been tested like I am now. Change the wall color—I don’t care. But take away my safety nets (e.g., money, health, purpose), and I feel exposed as I bounce around a turbulent plane ride.

It feels worse than it is though. This past four months I’ve been without steady income (voluntary sabbatical), but I didn’t realize how turbulent I’d feel. I recently got a job offer, and I will talk more about that amazing story soon. Praise God. When the things that give us security are gone the Lord tests us. I’ve been tested and being tested. Testing is good. We see what we are made of. We are ready to take appropriate risks in life when before we may been playing it more safe than we realized. I was being tested on that flight—would I trust God with my life? Do I believe I have a purpose? Yes—>maybe—>God I need more faith.

He is going to give me faith even when I’m not strong enough to muster it up. It was never something I had to completely muster up on my own. I have always been a touch more Armenian in my theology, but I have always acknowledged the Calvinist views in the Bible. I just understand it as a complicated situation where both realities exist. As I get older though, I appreciate those verses about God’s providence, control, and purpose a whole lot more. They are monolithic and strong. Though I may feel my wrong choices can be detrimental, He is strong and controls the winds and storms for His glory. I don’t have to worry about turbulence because Jesus is in control.

Colossians 1:16-17

For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.

• How is God testing you right now? Will you respond with fear or faith?

• Do you know even when you don’t respond in faith, He is with us…waiting?

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It’s been a little while since my last post, but the last month of school was taxing. The semester is done and summer is closely approaching.

Stress can come from lots of places, but this past month I was caught in the vortex of watching the stock market go on its roller coaster. Money represents different things to different people, but for me it represents security. Here is basic money motivation quiz if you are interested to see how you relate to money.

Money Motivation Quiz

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For me, “You need to feel safe and secure, and you desire the stability and protection that money supposedly provides.” If you take this quiz you may find you have a different relationship with money. Watching my youngest trade Pokemon cards with another kid, I was surprised when other kid gave several free cards to my son and other kids around. There was no real reason for the gesture, but I got the sense he just wanted to be generous. In giving, this child was expressing something else with his “money” than security.

Though we have talked about money up to this point, this post isn’t really about money. It’s about the fact that after feeling anxiety watching the stock market do crazy things, I felt guilty for feeling anxious.

When my body sends me signals that I am anxious and worried two thoughts come to me—I am not sure my anxiety will end, and I feel really stupid for feeling worried at all. Aren’t I supposed to be this strong Christian with a great foundation, so why do I often feel more like turbulent seas than a solid rock? I must lack faith. I feel guilty for that too. One can see the wicked cycle I can get on. What we discussed in one class this semester really gave me some solace—I don’t have to feel so bad when I feel anxiety. I can acknowledge how I feel (good or bad), so reduce my fear of anxiety and change my relationship to it. Why am I afraid of anxiety? It’s because when I feel it I feel like I don’t have enough faith…that I failed. I should be better than this. For those with a performance orientation like myself—I can’t keep fighting only—I have to accept what I am and who Jesus is in the moment.

Many of those in the church can feel guilty for not measuring up spiritually. We can be Christian perfectionists. We may not be perfectionist or masters anywhere else in life, but at least we are good Christians, right? When we fail spiritually it hurts our spiritual pride. To me this is just another form of spiritual performance. But I’m here to say—that’s ok. What do I mean?

There are healthy forms of guilt that lead to repentance, but there are also worldly and destructive forms as well (2 Corinthians 7:8-11). Which sorrow should we have? If you are a “good Christian” you know which it should be. You also know you shouldn’t be on a spiritual performance hamster wheel, but you have been. My point is when you do have earthly sorrow…when you do perform…you don’t have to freeze in shock and spiral. Or maybe you’ve already spiraled.

You are fine.

You are still a child of God and a friend of Christ. We have the Truth, the power of the Holy Spirit, and a will to try to do better next time. Is there more surrender needed? All the time. More faith? Absolutely. More grit? When don’t we? But for those like me who beat themselves up too much and begin to worry more because of it—we need to accept our place in the moment, in life, and in Christ. We are imperfect, finite, and a need for Jesus and the Holy Spirit is a blessing.

It’s like my daughter who is running track for the first time—she is talented, but her form and approach are still very raw. She can win a race on sheer grit, and I can see that grit as she strains past the runner in front of her. She passes them, but it took a lot of effort. When I see the top runners, they have strong form and technique all the way through. They don’t strain because they have a strong foundation. That foundation was built over time and with effective training. Part of my own spiritual faith journey has been accepting my foundation was weaker than I wanted to accept. If I only needed God once a week or once in a while, then that was a good thing. But it’s not. I am running on grit, not strong form. I’ve been running my spiritual race that way for so long. In our shortcomings we need Him and as we abide Him, He will abide in us (John 15:4-11). That is okay.

• Do you ever feel guilty when you aren’t as “Christian” as you should have been?

• In those moments, how does God truly see us and want from us?

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Why do I care about dust from Texas? Because that very dust, when mixed with rain, poured down “dirty rain”—rain that was liquid brown and caked every car.

Rain is supposed to clean things, not make them more dirty. For the last week plus car washes have made bank in the Midwest.

Before I learned about the dirty rain, I didn’t think too deeply about the dirt, but I did notice that car looked dirtier than ever. In the winter, highway driving through the wintry mix of snow, dirt, and salt leaves any car needing a wash. The grimiest, primed for “wash me” graffiti which I get at least, not once, but twice a winter because I am that lazy. After weeks, it becomes a contest at some point of how long you can go without a wash. As cars begin to get washed and others hold out, the “haves” of clean cars begin to out number the “have nots” pretty rapidly. Only the most stubborn remain. What was unusual this time, was for days I continued to see a multitude of cars that looked like they had gone off-roading. At that point, I began to question if there wasn’t more to the situation than the winter mix. I wondered the following:

• Could we be holding out because we were all so cheap and hoarding money because of the volatile financial markets?

• Did it snow more than usual this year?

• I do see more highway driving more than ever, could the workers mandate back to the office be creating more traffic and dirt?

I had lots of theories until I finally just googled, “why is my car extra dirty?” When I saw the word dirty rain I had to find what that meant and it explained everything. It wasn’t an answer I could have considered, but it made complete sense when I read it. We wouldn’t have this many cars that are this dirty without something else happening.

I recently read in the book, Strengthening the Soul for Your Leadership, by Ruth Haley Barton, and she talks about how ministry leaders discern God’s leading. She advised a great place to start is to ask if we are even asking the right question. Our original question or issue we feel we need to pray about or do something about may not end up being the relevant question at all. When God is doing something there are multiple levels of things happening for an individual, groups of people, future people, and beyond. I am sure I’ve asked God the wrong question more than half the time. That’s perfectly okay, but until we slow down, observe more of what’s going on around us and in us, and empty ourselves of our own ungodly patterns and acknowledge our motivators, then I’m pretty sure we will be asking God the “wrong” questions or ask those questions in the our order versus God’s order.

Even for me and my car I don’t think what the cause of my car being so dirty was the right question. Instead, the real question is why am I so reluctant to clean it off. Regardless of a rare meteorological event, typical winter driving, or increased traffic patterns, my car is going to get dirty during the winter, so what’s keeping me from just getting a car wash? Like this, there are likely so many questions I’m not asking but I should be. I just need to slow down and observe a little more to look past what I typically see, so I can see something God wants to show me.

• What question are you not asking God?

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When I can, on a Monday or Tuesday, I help out my sister by picking up my mom from her house, firing up the Korean hymnal playlist on Spotify, and driving her towards the nearest Doordash zone to find an order to deliver. Since her dementia started, my mom loves riding in the car to just cruise—no aim or destination necessary. Belting out Korean gospel songs is a bonus for her, but the drive is enough. For my own sanity, I need some kind of task so I feel like we aren’t just burning gas. Starting to Doordash when I drive her around seemed like a sensible solution.

On a recent mission, I picked up an order at Chili’s and navigated an unknown part of downtown to drop off someone’s Triple Dipper with boneless wings, mozzarella sticks, sliders and a large Dr. Pepper. The twist to this order was I’d never delivered to someone in a multistory apartment complex, and I didn’t have instructions on how to get into the building.

After parking my car in a nearby private church parking lot with abundant signage that I would be towed if I parked there, I told mom not to leave the car as I went to drop off the food for just a few minutes. She understood, but I locked the door so if she left I could at least hear the car horn blare if she opened the door. With a bag of food and drink in hand, I scurried a half block toward what I could make out as the front door of the lobby. The weather was decently warm, and I was impressed with this new building I’d never seen before. When I arrived at the door it was locked. Again, I had no access code, and I began to look for some kind of intercom. Seeing none, I stepped back wondering what I’d do next.

Then I heard my car horn—mom had decided to leave the car.

I ran back the half block I came down, making sure I had enough pace to intercept mom, but not so fast to spill this person’s Dr. Pepper. When I got there, my mom was sitting there calmly with the passenger side door open.

“Why did you get out of the car?”

“I was bored.”

“Really? Are we serious?”

Unsure what to do next, I got in the car and began slowly driving down the street I walked down. Calling this person would make sense, but I felt shame in having to bother the patron. It wasn’t my fault I didn’t have instructions, but it wasn’t this person’s fault that I had an elderly woman with me who didn’t want to cooperate and stay in the car. Slowly approaching the door I found previously locked, I made eye contact with a woman through the glass, and then I knew this Triple Dipper had to be hers. I stopped the car, we smiled at each other, and I handed her the food and drink intact. Back in the driver seat I let out a long breath, thankful to God I hadn’t fumbled the order or lost my mom in the process.

“Mom, do you want to go home now?”

“Whatever is good for you. I am just here for the ride.”

“All right, let’s try another.”

For young parents they often talk about the hardships of having to raise young kids, but there is the circle of life—some day our kids may be taking care of us. It is the bookends of a long season of life as parents. Most of us hope that we will not be a burden to our kids. My mother isn’t a burden to my sister or me, but she needs someone to take care of her in these last chapters of her life. I only have a few hours of Doordash shenanigans with her, but my sister has all day, every hour. Those who take primary care of someone who can’t fully take care of oneself—a child, a sibling, a parent—often have something they are trying to accomplish for themselves that makes the entire situation that much more complicated. I finished my order that day and went back to my life, but how many others have to pause their course of life to give themselves to care for another?

For work, I conducted a research interview with a woman who had left her executive level bank job to take care of her mother for a handful of years. I thought she would say it was the best decision she made, but there was a bittersweetness to her story. No longer on her executive track and her mother being difficult to handle, this woman wasn’t sure what she was doing anymore. Her path forward murky and her feelings in the moment conflicted, she felt stuck and unsure of what this was all leading towards.

For me driving my mother around is a small act to help my sister, but it feels like a small pause in my life. Most of my life, I have always felt what I was experiencing in my current state—school, raising kids, advancing in work—were all leading to something grander. They still may be, but they were stepping stones to be rushed though to get to that next mountain top. Driving my mom, almost failed Doordash deliverys… they don’t feel like they are heading anywhere. I’m beginning to wonder if it has to lead me to any specific destination. I get to see my mom, help my family, experience something I can laugh about, and reflect on God through it all. Perhaps that’s being in God’s presence for me. It’s not a task to finish or an unwanted pause, but a time to experience God again.

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I used to outsource my mom’s taxes to her long-time accountant, but I have started doing them myself considering if I’m going to collect all the documents anyway then I might as well finish it off and save some money. As her accountant, the one thing that is most jarring when I file for her is when I have to choose my mom’s relationship status—single or married.

Each time I look for a choice for widow. Just seems right to acknowledge all her years of life with someone, but in reality she is single. It is a reminder that all you have is what you have right now. Right now she is a single person. Sadly, it feels like she is in a lesser state than she was before, but when I consider that thought I realize that shouldn’t be true. She isn’t the same, but is it less?

Someone told me they knew a recent widow that lost her husband of 71 years. I couldn’t believe anyone could be with one person that long. For everyone multi-decade partnership, there are so many who aren’t going to be wedded to someone for 71 years or ever wedded. In some countries, entire generations of people aren’t getting married. Korea is a prime example of this reversal.

I’ve been praying for my mother that she will live the remainder of her years full of life and service. Her dementia strongly limits her ability to interact with others like she used to, but when she prays I’m amazed how lucid she sounds. The Holy Spirit can still speak when a dementia-ridden woman prays.

Singleness doesn’t have to mean less influential.

There is a difference between what a single person can do versus a married person, but it cuts both ways. I can’t keep up with college students’ lifestyles because my lifestyle is different. I want to believe my mother, in her singleness, can live a full life with family and community. For those who decide to stay single, become widowed. or get divorced, I wonder how they will operate in our churches considering how geared they become to family structures. It’s not a knock on church culture because it’s families that take up so much bandwidth and focus from a ministry perspective, but what makes sense in our churches for our singles—young, middle-aged, or elderly?

I know a group in the UK who ministers to those who struggle with same-sex attraction, but have vowed to ascribe to a traditional reading of Scripture. This means they decide to stay single and celibate which is a huge cost that I can only honor and respect. But what do they do for fellowship when marriage isn’t the goal? What is the kind of love they can experience with others that is godly and full? This isn’t just a matter for those who are same-sex attracted and take a vow of celibacy, but for anyone who is single. How do they exist in churches that are so family-centric?

To the IRS, my mother is single and only worthy of a single standard deduction. To us, she is still Mom. To God she is His daughter. To a church—is she just an elderly, single woman with dementia? Our younger single people—are they people who just need to get married? Our middle-aged singles—are they people who are running out of time? None of these outlooks seems satisfying, but I am without any practical solution. If you file your taxes as a single, just remember that’s how the IRS sees you, but you are more than that in our churches and communities. You all deserve a bigger standard deduction.

• All you single people…do you feel like churches handle your singleness well? What did they do that was edifying and what do churches not realize about you?

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When in the pool with my two sons, I realized something—I don’t float. My young sons could float on their backs for long periods of time with little effort. Just as easily, I seemed to sink. The boys told me take a deep breath to expand my lungs which did help but only for a few moments. Just sink a bit first then let your body rebound…relax your muscles they’d say.

I just sank faster.

If I moved my legs and feet a bit I could maintain buoyancy, but definitely I wasn’t floating like human pool floaties like they were. Peering through their blue tinted swimming goggles, they asked me, “Had I always been this way?”

“No, I used to float like you did.”

“What happened?” They ask jokingly.

“Life,” I said as I dunked them both in the water.

There comes a time for everyone that you realize you aren’t what you once were. This isn’t just reserved for those who are older, but it’s a progressive reality that you aren’t aware of until you are. When does a child realize they aren’t a kid anymore? One of my kids came to me teary-eyed because they realized they might not be a kid anymore. What happened, I asked? Did someone tell you something? Or did you get a hair on your upper lip?

“What, a moustache? Gross,” the kid said. “Just a feeling I have.”

Later those feelings come from your first white hair or the first time you face a real loss in your life. There are different moments that signal to us that we’ve gone through a door that we can’t go back through.

When I talk to my wife she says she looks forward to aging. You care less what people think. For me the idea of aging makes me feel sad. I’m not alone considering an entire industry exists to make us look and feel younger. Celebrities in their 60s look like they are in their 40s. I see elderly people who dye their hair jet black, and I think that doesn’t look quite right.

Then you have this guy.

In the end, no one outruns time regardless of how wrinkle-free you are. So why don’t I like the idea of aging?

For me it’s the idea that I don’t think I’ve figured out myself yet, and I’m losing time to do that. I feel like I’m on a timer and the seconds are melting away fast. Am I the only one? I was speaking to someone in their 20s and they described a similar sensation.

I know I am a very indecisive person. This plays into this issue of who I think I am. When I see others who seem so sure about their life, political, and even spiritual and religious choices they seem much more at ease. As a Christian I hear so many voices tell me Jesus is here and not there. Or this scripture is essential in this moment versus another. God is this way versus another. I’ve never been a person of extremes and personally have concluded that those who are very liberal or conservative in faith have taken over all the search engine optimization, but maybe that’s part of the benefit—you are at ease with yourself because everything logically fits together in your life and ideology. For me it often doesn’t.

For 2025 though, I know what I’ll be praying about—conviction. Not to join an extreme ideological side or a certain approach to life, but conviction in who I am in Christ. Conviction in my faith in God. Conviction that when I seek Him Jesus will answer.

And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him. (Hebrews 11:6 ESV)

• Where can you have more conviction in your life?

• What in your faith do you need more conviction?

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Fast forward through the game, but it was a low scoring and largely defensive struggle until the last part of the 4th quarter. After a bit of back and forth, the score was 14-10—advantage Patriots—with about 2:40 left in the game. It was the Giants ball, and they would have to march down the whole field and score a touchdown. On this drive is where 95 million plus witnessed the famous David Tyree Helmet Catch.

This catch was improbable. As I was watching Eli Manning barely evade getting sacked, chuck a ball to the middle of the field, and David Tyree (number 85) hang on to a ball by pinning it to his helmet, I can remember thinking—what in the world just happened. Are we serious? At that crucial moment, the tide had turned and it felt inevitable that the Giants would go on to score and win this game, slaying Goliath. So many in the world love sports and when the team they are rooting for loses in such a heartbreaking manner, it brings a damper to the rest of the day or days. I felt the same way that Sunday when I didn’t get to see history made by the Patriots.

What I didn’t realize until now is that a different history was made.

I love podcasts and specifically Christian testimonies, so when I found this podcast, God Out Loud, along with the greater Proclaim Network it is a part of, I began to pour over the different stories about God working out there in the world. This latest episode told a story about the David Tyree catch that I had no idea about. Take a listen to the episode (and the entire podcast series just because it’s good), and you will hear how God had a different plan for that Super Bowl.

In summary, this guy named Hubie Synn prophesied to David Tyree that he’d be known as a wide receiver for something special. At that time that felt impossible since David Tyree was as third string receiver and mostly a special teams player. This podcast episode will introduce you to Hubie which is its own amazing story, but he retells how he told David this. The reality is, after hearing that word of God through Hubie, David Tyree didn’t become Randy Moss (the Patriots receiver who did have a historic year in 2007-2008 season). Rather he stayed in the situation he was. It wasn’t until that Super Bowl and this infamous Helmet Catch that would propel David Tyree to every news sports headline thereafter. During that time he didn’t miss a chance to tell others about what God was doing in his life.

Apparently God had something completely different in mind for this game than what I had hope for, which was a Patriot’s dominating win. I may have felt down after that game, but how could I have known God was cooking something far greater?

After hearing a different story about this historical event, I was reminded that God’s ways are way above ours and when he is cooking we just have to give thanks. That catch…that Giants win…that was God’s working based on this story. Yet, all I knew at that time after the clock hit 0 was I was bummed my team had lost. Millions of people felt that way.

I think of all the things that have happened in my life that I wish hadn’t, and I think now what was God doing during those times? What was he doing for me, but even more mysterious, what was he doing for someone else? God’s plan and work is that dynamic, but yet we get so worked up based on the limited scope of vision and understanding. I know it’s easy to say and the feelings of loss or disappointment are real, but if we know God has a plan for us and others then we just need to respond with thanks and a more half-glass full thinking. The irony for David Tyree is that helmet catch was his last in the NFL. He had experienced injuries in subsequent seasons and eventually left the game. I’m sure that wasn’t in David’s personal plan because we all take pride in our work and efforts, but he continued to share God’s light. That’s what we need to do—no matter the circumstance—shine Christ’s light in the world.

• What event in your life have you labeled as negative, but can give thanks for even without knowing what God was doing?

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I’ve been attending a Christmas Eve service as long as I can remember, and most times they are a mix of conventional Sunday service and children’s holiday pageant. Whether it is your own kids or another’s—seeing little kids sing and run amok on stage is always great holiday entertainment.

For decades the services I attended were led by my dad, and I know his intention was always to preach a gospel message to anyone that would be visiting church for their one compulsory visit. To him it was an opportunity, and for those who knew the Lord it was a time to worship. The little kids performing were always cute and reminded him of the importance and beauty of family, but their parts were secondary. Preaching the good news of Christ and the young to old worshipping in the Spirit were always primary for Christmas Eve.

This year, Christmas Eve service felt the same, but didn’t. With each year away from my father’s passing in 2021, things do get easier for me, but holidays at church do remain the most challenging. It’s not even the time at home opening presents that is difficult, but going to church on Christmas Eve reminds me of him. In the end, it isn’t really about remembering him, but remembering what my church used to feel like. When he would preach with purpose and we worshipped Christ with fervor it felt like we were honoring God.

But God can do new things.

As I have mentioned, my mother has dementia and it did seem to accelerate after my father passed. Dementia can reduce a person to be like a child—difficult to reason with and in search for their basic needs of life. For my mom, when she hears any upbeat music, she instantly wants to dance. Before dementia, she kind of did this in spurts, but my dad would often tell her to stop, not in a mean way but in a more embarrassed way. Even back then, her dance moves resorted to a kind of Trumpian arm maneuver and a little bit of bop in her step. With her dementia, she is much more uninhibited to begin to dance, which is totally fine, until I look up and see my mom dancing down the church aisle as the Christmas Eve worship kicks in. This she has never done, but in her 1/4 speed King David impression with a swing of elderly Korean bop, she danced before God with a seated congregation likely shocked and uncomfortable with the sight of their former Samonim (in this case Pastor’s wife) dancing down the aisle.

I won’t lie and say the vibe of the service wasn’t as worshipful as year’s past, but seeing my mom dance in front of everyone and God was horrifying and refreshing. A woman with dementia has no ulterior motive but to express her heart, so I know the Holy Spirit was moving her down that aisle rather than just keeping her at her seat, which is what I would have expected she do. Dancing in her backrow seat is one thing, but shuffling down the aisle is kind of another level. Our teenagers dressed in their Christmas play costumes sitting together in the last few pews didn’t know what to do at the sight of this woman dancing, but to see them stand in worship in response to my mother’s unashamed 1/4 speed King David elderly Korean bop did move my heart. I’ve been wondering how God might still use my mom in her advanced age without my dad, and if dancing in the aisle is her thing then who am I to stop it. On Christmas day, she led prayer before dinner, and I’m still surprised how lucid her prayer still is. It feels like her old self for 30 seconds. All those years of praying for my family and her church doesn’t go away easily even with physical and mental degradation.

Afterwards, my sister and I spoke at length about this event, and we agreed we had mixed emotions. Our instinct to want to stop her felt like Michal’s critique of David dancing before the ark of God. I get why Michal did that now, but our personal reasons for doing certain things and the empathy we feel for others does not change the fact that some of our choices are just wrong before God. Stopping my mom would have been wrong.

We let our mother dance and many likely realized how far my mother’s mind has gone. But there is a spiritual message our God sent that day through a woman who is all emotion and dwindling reason—He will raise up the young and the old to worship because even the rocks will cry out in Christ’s presence (Luke 19:40). I was reminded that Jesus can work in very unexpected ways, and often we miss it because we are still looking for the ways we know God used to work. For God’s purpose, he will do a new thing. I am excited and frightened by how that could look, how I will develop as a person and leader through trial in 2025, and even how my own mother will be involved in it all. I’m just glad it’s God’s work to move things along and not mine because, in the end, no past or future mistakes of my own or others is going to stop Christ’s will. Let’s cry out and dance before our God or my mom will do it for you.

Happy New Year!!!! One full year of Seriously God? under wraps. Season 2 here we come!

She had been struck by a car when they found her in 2021 in Brazil. Dogxim had this strange fox-like face, but barked like a dog. She didn’t like dog food and preferred hunting rats, but her eyes looked like your favorite local Fido rather than a wild animal. Her actions and appearance never quite fit in a category, so they made one just for her.

For most of my life I feel like I’ve been trying to fit in a category in my school, work, marriage, parenthood, and even in my spiritual and religious life. A lot of my angst then comes from me not fitting in those categories. As a leader, I’m too indecisive. As an expert, I’m too definitive. As a Christian leader, I’m not spiritual enough. Politically, I can be too conservative, but won’t vote party line. It seems all the successful people I’ve met picked a lane in life and ran with it. Their brands, even as Christians, are clear and accessible to whomever they were trying to reach. You are a hardcore Bible-based person. Or you are a sold-out charismatic. You are a strong church planter or perhaps a dynamite praise leader. Yet, when it come to my faith I feel like Dogxim, a hybrid of everything and unexplainable to most—never really satisfying anyone else’s expectations. Truly, only beholden to God’s expectations, I shouldn’t care what others think, but yet it is others who are the ones who expect something from me. It feels like I never reach their expectations.

There is the term jack of all trades or “good at everything, master of none.” I have definitely felt that way in most things, especially my faith. In my versatility, I feel like I can be useful, but yet I feel like I’m not making anyone really happy. Why am I not more Reformed? Why am I not more progressive? Why do I not show more compassion to some? Why am I too compassionate to others? Am I just a compromised Christian—not spiritual enough, not conservative enough, not social justice-oriented enough, not anything-anyone-else-wants enough?

Out of all this noise in my life, there is one statement that hurts the most to hear—that I lack conviction. That is the final blow to my pride. In all my perceived wishy washiness, indecisiveness, doubt, and generalist tendencies, apparently I’ve confused myself and I lack conviction. What people don’t understand is that I want a pure conviction, one without ego and pride—the kind that I imagine those Desert Fathers in the 3rd and 4th century sought when they decided they would rather live in the desert in isolation. According to the Monastery of Christ in the Desert, “they wanted to commit themselves totally (body, soul, mind, and will) to being a disciple of the Lord Jesus with a profound holy zeal moving them to become ever more like Christ.” People would go out to the desert to talk with them or gain guidance, some even living alongside each other in the desert, but there were no massive ministries, large charitable drives, or organized much of anything. The western monks made large monasteries. The eastern monks went into isolation in the desert. I would be lying to myself and others if I claimed even an ounce of Desert Father zealousness, but hiding away for a while and only caring about how I am doing with God and helping whoever wants to sit in the sand with me sounds great.

People often ask me—what’s your calling, what’s your ministry, what cause do you care about, what are your goals for next year? What if my answer was, “I don’t know and possibly I don’t care”? That answer would likely make you conclude that I lack conviction. Well, you may be right, but what I know right now is that I feel like I need to be a real disciple of Christ. And maybe that’s what I’ll need for a very long time. And maybe I just need to be around others who feel the same way. I have been trying to please everyone when it comes to my faith and even lead some, but everyone seems to have some kind of agenda. For once, I want to just please God and be without an agenda. Just be myself, fear God, and not fit into a category.

Proverbs 9:10, The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is insight.

• Where do you fall “in-between” in your faith?

• Do you feel you need to fall into a specific Christian category?

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I know it is likely some random teen on the other end of that thumbs up, and I am this middle aged man, but I am not the bigger person. That kid who belittled my terrible round may have had the round of his or her life and would have won except for my stinker performance, but he or she is getting my doubly sarcastic thumbs up. You may have actually done a good job, but I am not giving you a kudos of approval because I want you to think I think that you did a good job. Because my thumbs up came after yours, might I be disapproving your performance too? It is nonsense, I know. It probably isn’t the right thing to do, but it feels great to be petty. Did I physically assault anyone when I do this? No, but my heart can’t be right trying to out sarcastic a teenage kid.

It’s not a dirty little secret that it can feel good to sin, especially when you are angry and it doesn’t seem to have this immediate terrible effect on you or someone else. In the moment, it feels good to talk crap about someone or let out your frustration as verbal assault on your kids or friends. When you “release” you can get a sense of calm or a “weight off your shoulders.” Often the alternative is you hold in your annoyance and anger and it that seems to have worse effects on you than taking your frustration out on your family member, friend, or even your kids. As Christians, we know this isn’t healthy or honoring God, but it does feel good for a moment.

When we come across a simple, but a powerful verse like Ephesians 4:26, “In your anger do not sin,” how do we actually live this out? Feels like more often than not, I do sin in my anger and ask God to forgive me for missing his mark. Christ is gracious, but does this verse exist to simply be a reminder of God’s grace?

I want to believe our faith journey is not only a matter of retrospective confessions, but real heart and mind transformation. Children learn to act differently because their parents love and teach them, but does that kind of change stop when we are adults? Can’t teach an old dog new tricks is our excuse for saying I’m not going to change. Or everyone should just give me space when I’m not in a great mood—this would be a pragmatic approach. The last cop out would be none of us can fully be like Jesus since he was God as well as human, so how can we expect to ever really live out a verse like this.

For many of us, I think we need to ask ourselves why we are so angry? Elderly people often can get a label of being ornery and as my dad aged and was sick in his last few years of life, I could see him bothered by his physical condition and his patience waned. When the Lord took him, in some ways, it was good to remember him in his love and patience rather than a future cranky old, someday-retired pastor. I think that was God’s mercy for our memories. How you physically feel can definitely have an effect on your emotions and actions.

For others, including myself, you have the classic “chip-on-your-shoulder” that makes everything seem like it’s not to your liking or everything is taking too long in life so you aren’t satisfied. The idea of God’s will and timing are serious afterthoughts. Life is all about what we don’t have right now.

But thinking about Ephesians 4:26 does it ever matter why we are angry—we aren’t to sin when angry. We just supposed to react differently. Watch this video of this kid regulating his emotions—he has to be like some kind of genius saint.

@humankindBrb seeing if we can book a therapy session with this 4-year-old 🥲 #toddlersoftiktok #emotions #wisekid #goodnews

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When we are angry, I pray we will remember this 4-year old kid. He is how we should be. We often just don’t know how on our own. Psalm 139:23-24 says,

Search me, God, and know my heart;
    test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
    and lead me in the way everlasting.

What’s offensive to God isn’t just feeling angry—what is offensive is believing things about yourself, others, and God that are not true or based on God’s Word that make you easily angered. Those beliefs are offensive. When a random teen points out I have poor Brawlstar skills, their sarcasm reminds me how much I believe that I need to be good at everything to have approval. When I am reminded that I’m not good at everything, I get angry. It’s all related. It all can be offensive to God. In these moments I need him to search me and know my heart for false beliefs that make me anger-prone, and he will lead me in the way everlasting.

• Are you easily angered? What could be underneath that anger that is also offensive to God?

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In Neil Anderson’s book, The Core of Christianity, he describes a Christian (or even a church) can fall into one of these quadrants:

I really like this breakdown because, first, I like to categorize things, including people so I can observe and form a narrative about myself or others. But beyond my weirdness about categorization, something like this helps give me words to inform my thoughts and prayers about myself. The author’s point is we are all supposed to be closer in the middle where Christ has all these characteristics in perfect harmony, but we will likely always be a little bit more in one corner or two since we are human.1 There is nothing inherently wrong with that, but the farther we go out to a corner of our quadrant the more we can become something less Christ like— liberal or legalistic for example. Yes, in life, we aren’t often just one thing, but for me I can feel my center of gravity to be on the Human and Natural side. I believe that there is a natural law that we must love and care for people, but if I go too far I become overly human-centered versus God-centered. The best part of me wants to love people as Christ loves them, but the worst part of me also fears letting people down.

According to the author, to address any human-centered problem, as a person (or a church) in the bottom left they would prefer to counsel an individual (which is absolutely true for me).

A person or church in the bottom right wants to disciple.

A person or church in the top right wants to see deliverance for someone.

A person or church in the top left wants to see inner healing for its members.

These are all valid and necessary ways to handle the troubles in our lives and churches, but one reality pervades it all—if sin, the Devil, and a fallen world are the source of problems that cause our human problems, regardless of what quadrant you are in, repentance is necessary. Some could say you need to repent, so you truly learn what is God’s law and standard. Some could say you need to repent to make yourself whole. Some could say you need to repent to find true inner healing. Some could say you need to repent banish evil. All are true, but the spiritual and biblical reality is all lead off with repentance to God.

Though David’s sin against Uriah and Bathsheba was against other people, it is no mistake David knows he has sinned before God first.

For I know my transgressions,
    and my sin is ever before me.
⁴ Against you, you only, have I sinned
    and done what is evil in your sight,
so that you may be justified in your words
    and blameless in your judgment. (Psalm 51:3-4)

In reality, as we become more like Christ I think it would be natural for us to adopt attributes in all the quadrants. For my own father’s life I saw him start in the bottom right as fiery righteous elder and pastor. But he always had a heart to help those in need and it was natural for him to receive people who were suffering. With his own family he began to see the need for inner healing of our inner wounds. Then he recognized there is a spiritual war happening around us and that our battle isn’t against flesh and blood only, so we must be in constant prayer.

He was far from a perfect man and didn’t always explain from which angle he was communicating or making decisions, creating confusion for others. What I will always appreciate about him though is, when prompted with a new challenge, he was willing to go beyond his quadrant and add to his Christian identity in the name of Christ. He’d often tell me that if we are becoming more like Christ, when you meet others who want to be like Christ you will find more similarities than differences. Those who genuinely love Christ always fear God without compromise, love man sacrificially, are always in prayer, and are led by the Holy Spirit more often than not. I’m beginning to see my own gaps. I know God’s Word, but don’t always want to follow it or can find “loopholes.” I don’t pray enough. I don’t acknowledge enough of the spiritual warfare around me. And even though I think I love others, I do wonder if I’m doing it for my own pride. Fortunately, everything good starts when we humble ourselves before God, and I think I’m desperate enough to admit I need more of Jesus right now.

• Where do you fall in the model illustrated above?

• Where do you feel Christ can do more work in your life and character based on the model?

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Many of us may not be “addicts,” but everyone finds a way to cope with the worries and stress of life—everyone. Some cope in healthy ways, some in not healthy ways, but we all cope.

Little things help me cope and distract myself—playing dumb phone games, going on cooking benders, immersing myself in a topic I want to learn, or exercising.

But I have an ultimate weapon against stress…to avoid it all together…and that is called planning.

I have mentioned before that my parents fought a lot when I was a kid. It started when I was young, so I had no choice but to be there during their arguments. Yells would penetrate through walls and door slams shook the frames of the house. Even if I wanted to escape it, where could I go as a young kid? My instinct was to fix it, figure out how to end the conflict, and look for every advantage or weakness in their arguments. As I got older I could start to remove myself, but that desire and “instinct” to plan and fix never left me.

You can imagine that these skills could serve me well in school and life, and they did. But though I could apply my solutioning skills to a host of things I never truly felt creative, smart, or skilled. Though I was always thinking ahead, I felt a step behind, reactive to life and what came my way. Never completely comfortable in my own skin, never with a clear vision, I went through life with intense scenario planning as my mode of living.

Understand, I’m not that kind of planner who sticks to one plan. That didn’t feel safe enough of a plan. My mind is like war games that the military plays periodically to keep sharp—I have two to three versions of a plan ready to go at any time. Again, my solutioning skills served me well in life and work, but I can feel I am hitting my limit. You can’t plan for loss of loved ones and you can’t plan for traumatic hardships. Those kinds of things don’t have plans. They hit you and you have to deal with it. In those moments, you get to the end yourself and learn to lean on Jesus more.

There is a saying—what got you to this point in your life isn’t what is going to get you to the next stop. My planning has served me well, but instead of heading off all stress in life I need to learn how to cope better. Every time I feel that uncomfortable sensation I need to pray. Every time I want to distract myself I need to pray. Every time I binge junk food when stressed, I need to pray. That’s the healthiest way to cope. Then, of course, go take a run or hangout with friends. But where I think I’ve leaned on him enough, I need remember there isn’t a max or min to how much we need to rely on our Savior.

• How do you cope?

• After reflecting on it, is how you are coping healthy or unhealthy?

• Have you built your life to avoid all stress in life, but seeing cracks in your armor?

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My heart goes out to those whose lives have been greatly affected by the hurricanes and storms in the southern parts of the United States. Hurricane Helene and Milton have caused so much damage in the United States, but I also know there has been massive flooding in Italy and beyond in the last few months. The weather is one of those things that doesn’t feel confusing—God is involved with the weather in some sort of fashion. Minus an idea of global level human impact (e.g., global warming), humans cannot claim to control the weather. Whether it is purposeful or a system that God designed—or likely a bit of both in a mysterious concoction—I don’t think anyone who follows Christ could disagree God fills all space and time.

The fancy word for that is omnipresent.

When I drive to school now, it is dark and the only light comes from early morning commuter headlights and highway lighting. As the sun appears and the Earth’s ground warms, I’m always in awe of the morning fog that develops. Where I live I rarely see fog, but on the roads that divide fields and open country, I see the thick mist hovering out in the open. It is beautiful.

When I see the fog, I see God.

What I mean is the vapor reminds me that God is everywhere and his hand was in the creation of that vapor that I can see. I drive by a dizzying number of blades of grass and flowers along the road, and I’m reminded that God has a hand in the maintenance of each petal and blade. It is crazy to think how dynamic God is if you think about that. We know in Christ all things hold together (Colossians 1:17).

So the tension exists that God’s hand is in the untamed storm and peaceful fog. One so destructive, another so peaceful. Both powerful. God is powerful. C.S. Lewis describes the character Aslan the lion (a Christ-like figure) as capable of great violence but also utter gentleness, which captures the tension well. God can be confusing, but he is with us nonetheless.

Like the storms in the world, my life has been turbulent and stormy. Not like the physical storms in the South, but yet I ask, “Where is God’s hand in this?”

There is only one answer—still here as he has always been.

Hs omnipresence even comes down to the air we breath. There is a praise song that I grew up with that said, “This is the air breath. Your holy presence, living in me.” This line reminds me of this is verse: “The Spirit of God has made me, and the breath of the Almighty gives me life.” (Job 33:4). With each breath of the atmosphere, which is in God’s hand, we continue to live. Our every breath is in God’s hand. I breath in God’s love with each breath I take. And my exhale? A profound brother told me—each exhale can be thanksgiving and giving joy. For others it can be dispelling our frustration and uncertainty. For me it’s going to be both. I take a deep breath, exhale, and remember his presence.

• What reminds you that God is always with you?

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In 2005, during Super Bowl XXXIX, the Eagles trailed by 10 points in the 4th quarter, and they attempted a comeback against the New England Patriot late in the game. Led by quarterback, Donovan McNabb, the Eagles came close to reaching their goal but fell short. Possibly because of poor conditioning or nerves, the rumor was McNabb puked in a huddle during that comeback. It’s unclear whether McNabb actually threw up ( he denies it), and the story is a thing of urban legend at this point. But for Philadelphia fans and the general sports world, he will be remembered as the guy who didn’t have the will to win. He wasn’t strong enough.

If I was in his shoes, would I have been strong enough?

Currently, I’m taking an introduction to Group Dynamics where we are learning how to run a group therapy session. Part of the class allows us to gather in small groups as fellow students, and we take turns leading a group session. This past week was our first student-led session, and my classmate opened up with the caveat that he had previously considered another topic (immigration in the US) but wanted to go with a lighter topic. We’d be sharing moments of grief.

I want to love this fellow student of mine, but how is that a lighter topic, brother? I’d rather talk about Trump accusing Haitians of eating pets than talk about grief.

In this session we sat around a dark mahogany stained oval table in a windowless conference room. When I heard the topic was grief, the already enclosed room felt that much tighter with what little air in the room vanquished. I began to bob in my reclining chair as I waited for my turn to talk. The group wanted to go in a circle, which would make me last to share. How long could I hold in my tears? Half way around the table, I started to sniffle, and I’m sure everyone didn’t want to look at me directly in fear they would cry. There were a lot of emotional things shared, but I could only hear half of what was said because I was too preoccupied with wanting to not let my emotions go.

Besides not knowing this group of people that well, I’m the oldest in the group by a lot, so I didn’t want to be that middle-aged guy to lose it during our first student-led session. When the sharing finally got to me, I couldn’t hold in my tears any longer and mumbled that I’d lost my dad about 3.5 years ago as I wept. I said something like, “He had lived a decently long and full life, so I can’t complain. But no one is ready for loss. It’s still hard.”

After finishing and making my way back home, I began to think about why I felt so uncomfortable with the entire thing. The honest reason is I feel a level of shame being so emotional about losing my dad. I’m not embarrassed about being emotional in front of others, but I’m embarrassed that I’m not over it yet.

Is there something wrong with me that when I do talk about him the emotions still feel so raw? I’ve had this idea for a long time that I have to be put together all the time. Add another perspective I have—you have to rush to change things, including yourself. I can’t be a mess…for too long…especially in front of others. It’s likely a PK (pastor’s kid) thing, but I was so bothered that I wasn’t the strong one in the room. I’m 43, my fellow students are in their mid 20’s, and I’m weeping about losing my dad almost four years ago. Many of them shared very tragic stories which I did not expect, but they all kept it together. What was wrong with me?

I see political leaders and they always seem to have the right things to say. Business leaders take a crisis and find a way to spin it where there is opportunity. Athletes have millions of eyes watching, but don’t cave. When any of them cave we call them unfit to lead. All of this is why I don’t like the fact that I don’t seem to be getting over my loss. It isn’t completely about my grief as much as what it means about my fitness to lead. My fear is not unfounded—there are examples and evidence that the world we live in is the survival of the fittest. The strong lead. Things have changed, but not fully.

Though the world we live in may be like this, it makes what Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 all the sweeter.

⁹ But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. ¹⁰ For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

For me, as long as Jesus can see my potential and design, it’s all that matters. Leadership is a type of exercise of power, but if Christ’s power is perfected in our weakness then maybe I am not in such a bad position after all. Lord, use us weak ones to perfect your power if that means more eyes look to you. It’s hard to say this because it may mean no one may looks at me, but I’d rather have real power exercised than something I made up on my own. I know I’m going to get stronger, but I’m not going to skip the process I have to go through. It’s time to own where I am and accept the time it takes to navigate it. I will take as long as I need to become what I will be next and crave to see Jesus’ power exercised throughout.

• Do you have trouble looking weak in front of others?

• When did Jesus show his power through your weakness?

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