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Paul McCartney, Art, and the Real Meaning of Life

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I’m a huge Beatles fan. When all of my friends were chasing after boy bands and big-haired pop stars, I was sitting in my room soaking up every sonic delight of John, Paul, George, and Ringo. I suppose all Beatles fans have a favorite, and mine will forever be Paul McCartney. A few years ago I had the chance to spend an evening with Paul in Cowboys stadium with tens of thousands of other huge fans, and I’ll never forget the way that gigantic metal dome seemed to melt into a sway as we all sang “Hey Jude” together at the top of our voices. Paul, already nearing 70 years old, performed brilliantly for hours, and to be perfectly honest with you, it was one of the greatest nights of my life.

I suppose with art we have a tendency to try to separate the art from the artist. We don’t want to go to an art museum and know everything about the artist–we just want to look at the art and enjoy it on its own merit. Yet, artistic expression can be terrifyingly revealing. The Bible tells us that out of the mouth the heart speaks, and perhaps the same is true of the paint brush or the guitar chord. Think of David’s psalms, so raw in revealing every tormenting thought and every lilting praise. We want to separate art from the person of the artist, but the truth is that art is a reflection of its creator, and, in many ways, a person’s art is a reflection of what is inside of them. Apply this concept to the Beatles and you may determine that what was inside of them was a bunch of nonsense. Yet, songs like “Yesterday” and “Let It Be” or even “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” speak to us as human beings because we know loss and pain and heartbreak, all consequences of the fall of humanity, even though John and Paul and George probably weren’t thinking about that when they wrote their lyrics.  When we hear these songs, we identify with the longing and the strife, and it moves us. Art very often disturbs or inspires us, and it’s because we know that it is an outpouring of something inside someone else, and many times we see ourselves there, too.

Paul McCartney is now 76 years old, and he is about to release his first new album in several years. In preparation for its debut on September 7, he has released a couple of singles, including “Come On to Me,” a basic rock song about seeking out a sexual encounter, but it has to be “discreet” because the singer and the object of his desire can’t be seen together. The song itself, if I may be so bold as to be a music critic in this moment, is just okay. But, something struck me about the lyrics that I can’t seem to stop thinking about. Here is Paul, a man who has lived the human life for almost 80 years. He has experienced all sorts of joys and heartbreaks, has surely learned lessons through the years, gained insight. Yet, here is his art, and we see no evidence of growth. We see no hints of wisdom gained. If he has learned great life lessons and has discovered what really matters and what doesn’t, we certainly don’t see that played out in his artistic expression here.

I sat in my car and listened, head cocked to one side in an effort to concentrate on the words that my favorite Beatle was belting out. I don’t know how much wisdom Paul has gained through the years. I don’t know how he has grown as a person or what sort of battles he has fought within himself. But, when I heard his art pouring out of the speakers of my minivan, I identified with the way he completely misses the point.

As far as anyone knows, Paul has never professed to be a believer. He has dabbled in religions, at times calling himself an agnostic, or saying he isn’t religious but is spiritual.  Only God knows the condition of his soul, but I don’t expect him to write songs that are about Jesus. Jesus, as far as I know, is not on Paul’s radar. But, without Christ it is no wonder that at 76 years old he still doesn’t have a grasp on what is really meaningful, at least according to his art.

What about me, though? What about you? What is pouring out of us? I just turned 41. As I age, is it clear that I am growing, or am I still singing about the same things that I thought were important in my youth? Do my words, both on paper and in daily conversation reveal that I really understand what this life is about, or is it all vacuous, like an old man’s song about a meaningless affair with a stranger? Those of us who know Christ are without excuse–this life is about Jesus and His glory. It’s about faithfulness, fidelity, about shepherding and stewarding well the things that God has given us. It’s about speaking words and creating things that bring honor to God.

Many times I miss the point. I focus on things of little to no importance. I worry about things that belong to the Lord. I have a heart that is so quick to stray–what is pouring out of it? What is washing over my children and my husband and my friends as I open my mouth and let my wandering heart speak? I pray that I will grow. I pray that when I am 81 you will see a different kind of faith in me, one that has lasted through every desert and every hurricane of life.

There’s still time for Paul. Through the years I have often prayed that God would rescue him from himself. From the curse that he carries around like a heavy chain on his soul. I know what that’s like, and I know that it’s only by God’s mercy that I am free. What would a Paul McCartney worship song sound like? Maybe one day we’ll know. In the meantime, I pray that the Lord would grow and stretch you and me so that whatever pours out of us is what glorifies and honors Him.

Being the Church

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A few days ago, we drove east, until the modest, stubby mesquite trees of west Texas gave way to the majestic, fragrant pines that hide the horizon and cover the eastern part of the state with lush greenery. We were home. Well, one of our homes. It was the first church that took a chance on a starving artist, turned attorney, turned pastor. This is where we remembered that life is fun, where our sweet church taught us what it looks like to be selfless, to be generous, to be patient. These people took us in and loved us well when we moved here ten years ago. And now, five years removed from these precious friends, we drove there again this past week to honor the life of a dear church member who had encouraged us many times through the years.

In the funeral home’s hallway, I rounded the corner to find a chapel filled with dear old friends, people we adore and miss terribly. I listened as one of Sawyer’s preschool teachers told me how attentive he was as a toddler, how he would intently listen as she taught and then he would open his baby mouth and ask deep questions. We talked about how he has such a tender heart toward the Lord, and I got the rare opportunity to hug her and thank her for the years she invested in him, for the ways that she helped to nurture a sensitivity to the Spirit that I see in him today.

I watched as friend after friend approached our children, exclaiming about how much they have grown. I reminisced with an 86 year old who had made sure, six years ago, that she was the very first person to come to our house to hold Emerald after she was born. One of our favorites, a tall, white-haired friend who used to keep Chad company in the front seat of the church bus while he drove all over the countryside, walked into the room, and we heard about some of the many sorrows that he has endured in the time since we’ve been away.  Still, he smiled, he hugged us, and he commented on the kids’ freckles. He has always loved freckles.

And then, as the service ended and it was time for us to say goodbye to our dear ones all over again, I walked out of the chapel arm in arm with a sweet friend who used to invite us to her home where she and her husband showed us old pictures and their beautiful glassware and made us fried catfish just for fun. One night we sat with them, just sat with them and ate hamburgers when their son passed away. We just wanted to be close to them. We sat and ate hamburgers and reminded each other that God is good. As we walked out of the funeral home, she looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, “You didn’t know it, but you saved our lives that night.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. It was such a precious reminder that, in the church, God has gifted us with the sweetest opportunity to experience all the joys and sorrows of life with each other. To sit together and eat hamburgers when every word you think of saying seems wrong. To sit together in solidarity, knowing that even tragedy can’t break our faith, that no unexpected heartache can loosen God’s grip on us. To sit together, remembering that Christ is enough. He is always enough.

I know we have many more moments like this ahead of us. Times when we will just hunker down with loved ones right in the middle of a hurricane of heartache. And there will be times when dear friends will do the same for us. This is the church. This is one of the many reasons that we need each other. And, I am so thankful that I got to go “home” this week so that I could be reminded that we are called to give all of ourselves to each other.

As we made our way back west, the sky opened up again. The gorgeous pinks and oranges of the sunset cast a funny hue on the wide horizon. I smiled as I watched our beloved hometown come into view. This is where we belong. This is where we are called to give ourselves away. This is where the rich, beautiful blessings of the church continue to pour out on our little family. I’m thankful.

41 Years Old

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Tomorrow I will officially turn 41 years old. I recently heard another blogger talking about how when she turned 41 she decided she was going to do all the things that she wanted to do but had always been too afraid for. She woke up at 41 and completely changed her life. Then she wrote her book and she got on all the talk shows. It’s been fun to watch it all unfold, spying on her life from a distance, seeing a whole bunch of her dreams come true.

Tomorrow I will wake up early and meet a swarm of sweet kids at the church parking lot to head to camp. I’ll get on stage and jump around and sing and I’ll dance in my awkward way, and the day will be long and Texas summer hot and oddly fun. I’m not expecting any revelations when I wake up as a 41-year-old. Here I am, with a blog that has lulled through the summer and a book that is still unwritten, dishes waiting patiently in my sink, three kids who are trying to deny the fact that school will soon be starting. Here I sit, still not reading my Bible enough, still praying too little, still fearing too much, still letting the same old sins creep up on me while I get distracted by all the things that don’t matter.

But, God never quits being patient with me. He is patient like the dishes in my sink. Like the laundry in my baskets. He is patient like that book that is still in my brain. Only with his unending patience comes compassion, understanding, and great love. He has shown me again and again through these decades marked by my imperfection that his grace never stops covering me. He is good. And his goodness keeps binding my wandering heart to my Savior.

There are so many ways I wish I were different. But, one thing I know for sure: Jesus never quits. He never stops saving me from myself. He never throws up his hands in despair and walks away. Blogs and books and even families fade and pass away, but His grip on me is sure.

So, I guess instead of deciding that year 41 will be the year that I finally do all those things that need doing, I will pray that this will be a year of remembering instead that nothing in this wide and wonderful world matters more than the love of Christ. The fact that he would stoop to love me is a miracle that I hope I never get over. Let all that I do in year 41 be for you alone, Lord. You deserve all the glory forever.

Every Testimony is Dramatic and Miraculous

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My Christian testimony is what many would call vanilla. I came to know Christ when I was eight years old. My family was something straight out of a 1950s sitcom–hardworking father, loving stay-at-home mother, two kids and a dog. We were deeply involved in the church that my parents grew up in, and I don’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t love Jesus or didn’t want to live according to His word.

It’s true that when junior high school hit I didn’t always make the best decisions. I tried out some different personas for short periods of time. But, for the most part, God has kept me on an extremely short leash. Anything I tried was immediately found out and punished. I felt humiliated by my sin, and was known during my growing up years as a “good girl.”

I went to college and didn’t experience any kind of trauma or drunken mistakes or shocking revelations. By God’s grace I made sweet Christian friends and we lived for the Lord as well as we knew how at the time. I married Chad, and he has helped lead me closer to Christ as the years have gone on.

I have no dramatic background story or miraculous turnaround to speak of. I don’t have one of those testimonies that make people say to one another, “You have GOT to hear what God has done in her life.” No, my story is simple and may not seem all that profound or even interesting at first glance.

But, the truth is that every single Christian testimony is dramatic and miraculous.

I may not remember a time when I didn’t love Jesus, but it is there in my history–a period when I was 100% dead in my sins, as dead as Lazarus in the grave. And then the Lord called out to me, and I heard His voice. How much more dramatic and miraculous can a story get? I was once dead, and now I am alive! I was bound for hell, and Jesus snatched me out of the clutches of eternal torment. May we never be guilty of seeing that kind of saving grace as ordinary or humdrum. It is the very power and love and goodness of God on display in a dramatic way, even when we forget it and we start to feel inferior to all of those with the fascinating and drama-filled testimonies.

God has worked a stunning miracle in my life. I don’t know why He has protected me from so many heartaches, but I’m grateful. If you also have an undramatic testimony, know this: there is nothing basic or boring about the life-transforming power of our Lord Jesus Christ. The angels throw a party every time someone comes to Christ, and the parties aren’t less enthusiastic for the freckle-faced eight year olds. Salvation is never small. It is big and dramatic and miraculous, every single time.

Let’s never forget what Jesus has done.

As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our flesh and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.

Ephesians 2:1-5

A Plea to Parents

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I have had a heavy burden lately for families. So many families are struggling, breaking apart, buckling under the weight of sin and pride and foolish independence and selfish love that turns out not to be love at all. And then there are the families where everything seems grand, where baseball and camping and dance classes crowd out the greatness of real communion with God’s people, where parents maintain a casual association with the church while their children learn and re-learn and truly believe that Jesus has no place in this oh-so-comfortable life.

More and more in all types of families I see parents who claim to be Christians yet don’t see the need or importance of doing all they can to make sure that their own precious children escape the clutches of hell and find victory over sin and death. It makes my heart pound, the sheer terror of it, that idea that I should receive forgiveness of sin and my children should face the terrible wrath of a holy God. It ought to terrify all of us, the idea of our loved ones living and dying without knowing the perfect love, mercy, and salvation of the Lord.

I implore you, parents. Examine yourself. If you do not feel a sense of urgency in the training and spiritual development of your children, if you do not provide them with a church family and teach them God’s word, if you do not feel utter devastation at the thought of them living without Christ and dying without hope, then you have no reason to feel assured of your own salvation. It’s possible that you were made to believe at some point in your past that you had a true encounter with Jesus, but you actually only had an emotional experience with no real repentance or faith in the Lord.

It is reasonable to deduce that a true follower of Christ could not and would not fail to teach her own children how to become Christians.

If your family’s life is ruled by the things of this world instead of the things of God, if you find yourself rarely or never engaging your children in spiritual conversations, if you have let other activities take precedence over church attendance, if your children see no real need or place for Jesus in your world, you need to stop right now and seek the Lord. You need to consider whether you really know Him and whether His Holy Spirit has changed your heart of stone to a heart of flesh. (Ez. 36:26) You need to remember that Jesus said that anyone who causes a little one to stumble would be better off with a millstone tied around his neck, drowned in some bottomless ocean. (Luke 17:2) You need to consider the words of Christ when He declared that the greatest commandment is Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind. (Matt. 22:36-38)

“Christian” means something more than liking some of the things Jesus had to say. This faith is all-consuming and utterly transforming. If your faith is more like an occasional identifier than a life-altering relationship, then it is possible that you don’t really know Jesus at all. It’s possible that you are going to hell and you are dragging your children there with you.

Consider the condition of your soul.  Contemplate whether you are leading your children through the wide gate and down the broad the road that leads to destruction. Scripture tells us that the way is narrow that leads to life. Few find it. (Matt. 17:13-14) Have you? Will your children? Pray that today will be the day of salvation.

The Humbling of the SBC

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I am a Southern Baptist woman.

As a baby I toddled up and down the aisle of my parents’ little SBC church in central Texas, squealing with laughter as one church member after another held my chubby hands to steady me. I grew up there. I knew all of the best hide and seek spots in the building. I slept on the floor of the fellowship hall during G.A. sleepovers, and Jesus found me in that same room, when a traveling evangelist asked me if I could hear my shepherd’s voice. How many sweet people had poured God’s word into my hungry little soul by the time I was eight years old?

Eventually, as all kids do, I became a teenager. I spent years in Acteens reading the stories of passionate SBC missionaries. I mapped Paul’s missionary journeys on a posterboard that hung in the hallway. I went to national conventions designed specifically for Southern Baptist girls, and I loved every minute of it. The senior adults in our church encouraged me endlessly. They recognized me as a leader, and they allowed me to function as such. My junior year in high school my church hired a part-time youth minister, a young college kid, only two years older than me. We were great friends and did Christianity the best way we knew how–with gumption and passion and brokenness and gratefulness. I was never asked to be less than I was.

As a freshman in college, I found myself tasked with a strange job. My home church asked me to interview a college boy that they were considering hiring. He was two years older than me at our Baptist college, and I called him to ask if he would meet me in the cafeteria. I remember he was sitting with a group of his fraternity brothers when I walked in, and they were all wildly amused that he was being interviewed for a job by a freshman girl. My sweet church, though. They couldn’t think of any reason why I shouldn’t be the first one to vet this guy.

When I was nineteen, I stood behind the podium at that same little church, in the place where I had been so well loved and, looking out on many of the very faces who had smiled down at me when I practiced first steps up and down that long aisle, I spoke the truth of God’s word. No one was wringing their hands or glaring disapprovingly. My church wanted to see me grow and to use every ounce of ability that I had in order to glorify God within those walls and without.

I was never told that I should aspire to be a pastor. I was never told that I should be quiet. I was never asked if I fully understood complementarian roles. But, in every way in that humble church that I loved so dearly, it was made clear to me the truth of God’s word. The roles of men and women were so gracefully modeled there. Women were held in high esteem and helped run the place. Men were honorable and respected. That dear church saw value in me, and they allowed me to lead in my own ways, gently showing me the way to go according to the Scripture.

In 40 years of living I have been a part of seven Southern Baptist churches, each of them filled to the brim with kind, compassionate, godly people. What I have seen in all these years is not perfection. Far from it. Our churches are full of sins of all kinds, and so am I. We are on a steep learning curve right now in the SBC, and it is a good thing even though it hurts. We are straining to walk up this high hill of God’s good design for women, and we are woefully out of practice. In many ways we have forgotten what it looks like to hold women up, to hear their voices which are crying out in the wilderness, to value their thoughts and opinions and the wisdom they have gained through their study of God’s word. We have filled our boards and committees with men, albeit great ones, and we have entered rooms and we have closed doors to discuss sensitive women’s issues while most of the women wait outside.

The SBC is not dying. It is not facing a crisis that can’t be overcome. It is waking up from a long, fitful sleep to realize that some things are out of order, and those things can be set right by listening men and women and by the Holy Spirit of God. This is a time to be grieved by the sins we see revealed. It is a time to be cautious as we move forward, never allowing the pendulum to swing so far that we forget our strong, Biblical complementarian convictions. It is a time to be excited about the ways that God will work through humble hearts and changed attitudes. It is a time to be prayerful as hurting people are healed and as fallen leaders are reconciled to Christ. I believe all of this and more is in store for our convention. This is not a day for doom and gloom predictions or for jumping ship. It’s a day for holding on to Jesus as tightly as possible and asking Him to reveal to us our own wrong thinking and attitudes. It’s a day for humility in the SBC.

Imagine what could happen in Dallas next week if we all walked in with humble hearts, empty of all agendas other than glorifying our great God? What heights could the SBC reach on this steep climb that we’ve begun if we begged Jesus to show us where we are going astray in our own hearts and minds? There is no joy in seeing the mighty of the SBC fall. There is no joy in hearing the stories of women who have been abused or dismissed or silenced by the very men they should be able to trust for guidance and protection. But, there will be joy on the other side of this trek up the mountain. When God has changed things that we were afraid were unchangeable. When women are heard and when what they have to say is wise and changes our churches for the better. When SBC committees and boards gain more godly female representation. When women are expected to learn theology and are invited to discuss it freely. When we all grow. When we all change. I believe Southern Baptists will look back on these days as essential to our growth and flourishing. It’s gonna hurt. But, it will be worth it.

The SBC could take a few tips from the sweet church family who helped raise me. They did it with enthusiasm for who I was and excitement for who I may become. They cared for me by teaching me truth and by encouraging me to use my gifts for God’s glory. This is all any woman in the SBC really needs: open ears, open hearts, wise counsel, compassionate discipleship, and love poured out on a soul made in God’s image. Encourage women to grow, and value who they are and how they can contribute to our convention. I believe God will bless that many times over. I’m thankful for the SBC and the countless Southern Baptists who have nurtured me through the past 40 years. May God continue to humble and bless as we seek His face.

When Laundry is Your Biggest Sin Problem

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Sometimes I’m struck by the absurdity of modern moral codes. We live in an age when it’s permissible to get on the internet and say anything you want in the cruelest and most harsh ways. In a time when moms everywhere are decorating their homes with throw pillows and supposedly esoteric art pieces that feature the f-word, simply because they find it amusing. When abortions are wiping out huge numbers of the next generation of human beings. We live in a world where men and women alike can’t make it through the day without watching videos of violent sexual acts in which women and children are victimized in the most horrific ways. Yet, over and over again I see posts on social media about what a worthless human you are if you don’t return a shopping cart when you go to the grocery store.

A recent Barna survey asked Christian women what their biggest sin struggle is, and the top two answers were disorganization and inefficiency. First of all, is a messy laundry room really classified as a sin? And are these really the worst things that women believe they are struggling with?

The less connected we are to God’s word, the less we will be able to recognize and understand sin and biblical answers to moral and ethical questions. As a whole our culture  is moving further away from the Bible every day. Even professing Christians are distancing themselves from the scripture or are so unfamiliar with it that they have no real understanding of their sin as it relates to a holy and perfect God.  I suppose it only makes sense from there that people begin creating their own brand of morality, one where leaving a shopping cart or having dirty dishes in your sink is more grievous than jealousy or hatred or lust or even murder.

These are times for self-examination. Times for letting God’s word form our worldview and not the confused, godless culture that we are now living in. These are times for mining the depths of our own hearts and considering whether we truly know Christ or we are just going through half-hearted motions. Any woman who would claim that her biggest sin issue is disorganization has an extremely stunted understanding of who she really is or how depraved and wicked, how desperately in need of a Savior. A woman who believes that inefficiency is her most urgent sin struggle has little comprehension of her position before the God of the Universe. In these survey answers there is no hint of Isaiah’s confession as he fell at the feet of the Lord: “Woe to me! I am ruined!”

It’s likely that many of the women Barna surveyed who claim to be Christians are, in fact, not. But, even among those who are truly converted there is a real lack of comprehension when it comes to the holiness of God. As long as large chunks of Christianity believe that their habitual sins are not that bad, as long as churches are fooled into thinking that shopping carts and messy desks are bigger problems than pornography and racism, jealousy and pride, the church will grow more and more ineffective in showing the world what it really means to follow Christ and to love Him with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength. And as long as Christians fail to identify and kill sin in the Body of Christ, we are proving to the world that we don’t read or live by the book that we claim changes everything.

We can’t be sensitive to the Holy Spirit, identifying and eradicating sin in our lives, unless we read scripture and do what it says. We can’t see ourselves accurately until we see God for all that He is. We can’t even begin to reach for sanctification and holiness until we begin to see the utter holiness of our great God as He is revealed in the Bible. Until we turn to His word, until we study it and live with it and treat it like food and air, then we will never be able to untangle the mystery of the human experience, and we will be fooled into believing that things like shopping carts separate the decent people from the awful ones. It’s all just posturing until we get real about the awful in our own hearts.

It’s time to take a closer look at ourselves.

Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting! Psalm 139: 23-24

Willpower isn’t the Cure for Pornography Addiction

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One of the most common things that we hear in ministry counseling is that someone is struggling with a pornography addiction. Men and women alike constantly battle this temptation, and in moments of weakness they regularly fail in their commitment to stay away from porn. They don’t understand why they can’t just stop looking at it, stop being tempted by it. Like a serial dieter who keeps a smorgasbord of cupcakes, cookies, and candy in the pantry, they leave their computers and phones and tablets unrestricted and count on their own strength of will to keep themselves away from the very sin that is killing them.

That’s not how avoiding temptation works.

If you are struggling with a porn addiction and you really, truly want to stop looking at porn, then you need to get filters and accountability software on every single device in your home. Alcoholics have to pour out the liquor, dieters have to throw away the cupcakes, and porn addicts have to block the porn. This is how you flee temptation.

If you want your husband, wife, pastor, or friends to believe that you are sincerely and desperately sick of your porn addiction, this step will show them that you are serious. Your willpower isn’t going to rescue you from this destructive sin habit. Pray that Jesus will keep you from temptation, but use the tools that He has inspired and flee temptation like He commanded.

Your life will be better without porn. Your relationships can be healed. Your mind can be redeemed. If you really want to be free of the guilt and the heartache of porn addiction, take this first step. Block the pornography.

By the way, the best time to get internet filters and accountability is before an addiction develops. We have been fleeing this temptation since 2004, and no one in our house has a porn problem. Every Christian with internet should take the availability of pornography seriously. Don’t count on your own willpower or the willpower that you imagine your children have. Sexual sin is spiritually devastating, and no one–not one single soul–is immune.

Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. Matthew 26:41

Are You in the Wrong Airport?

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He was the type of man who knew how to pack a week’s worth of clothing in one small backpack. He stood in line impatiently, a seasoned traveler, waiting for his opportunity to check in for his flight and move on with his day. I saw him strut up to the counter, passport in hand, confident that it would be a smooth experience. From my vantage point I could tell right away that there was a problem. The airline employee’s brow furrowed. Did you make this reservation yourself? she asked. He seemed puzzled as he assured her that he had made the reservation. His passport still hung in the air, looking exotic in his hand with its stamps from around the world.

Her eyes never left her computer screen. You’re at the wrong airport. She said it in a matter-of-fact way, with authority. He had scheduled a flight out of a different airport in the city, and then he had expertly packed his things and confidently driven to the wrong place, where no flights to exotic spots were leaving at the moment. His shoulders slumped. His passport fell to the counter like a wounded butterfly.

His posture said he had never felt so stupid in all of his life.

He turned to leave, his expertly packed backpack flung over one limp shoulder, still shocked that he had made such a terrible mistake, bleary-eyed as he considered all it would take for him to get to the other airport in time for his fast-approaching flight.

The truth is that by this time there was probably no fixing his error. He hadn’t realized until it was too late that he had been following the wrong agenda all along–even though he looked the part, he wasn’t as much of an expert as he had imagined. And now he was deeply regretting his huge mistake.

As I watched him go, I wondered how many Christian parents might someday find themselves in a similar situation. Parents who prioritized everything but Jesus. Who made sure that their kids were at every sporting event and every band concert and every dance recital, but who figured it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if they couldn’t make it to church on most Sundays.

Parents who made sure to talk about politics and self-esteem and safe sex, but who figured that their kids were getting all the Jesus talk that they needed in Sunday school, on the days when they managed to get them there. Parents who chose to live as if their faith only mattered when it was convenient. Who wanted their kids to have Christian values but never taught them that God’s way is the best way to live. Parents who felt confident that they were giving their kids the best possible life, the most coveted opportunities, the most discipline. Parents who told themselves that their lukewarm Christianity was enough. That their family would be okay in the end.

And then one day they look up, and their children have grown into adults with no interest in Christ. With no spiritual foundation to build on. With the values of a God-hating world. These parents who have invested their lives in their children realize in that awful moment that they were actually in the wrong airport all along. They looked like the greatest parents. They did a lot of things right. But it turned out that none of it really mattered. Just like the expert traveler, they had made one very grave mistake: they had failed to make Christ the starting point. They had built a life itinerary for their children that excluded the entire reason that life matters. They made it all about baseball and theater and music, popularity and name brands and cars and colleges. They had invested all of their time and money and resources in ways that made their children believe that what matters is what doesn’t last, and that what is eternal isn’t worth thinking about.

Imagine how badly parents who are true Christians will want to take it all back when they realize how quickly the years have passed. How all of the training in godliness that they planned to do one of these days just never got done. Imagine how they will grieve when they are standing there, taking in the awful truth that their chance to influence their kids has passed, and that the godless adults who are now standing before them are actually a direct result of their influence.

Since the day I watched the expert traveler’s painful moment unfold, I have often wondered if he ever made it to the right airport. I hope he got to add another stamp to his impressive passport. If there is one thing he needed that day, it was the chance to start over.

Maybe you need the same chance. Today is the day to gain eternal perspective. Where are you investing your life? Where are you leading your kids?

Pray for the Editors of GQ

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The editors of GQ have written an article called “21 Books You Don’t Have to Read,” and I wasn’t at all surprised to see that the Bible made their list. They aren’t impressed by God’s word. Here’s their review:

The Holy Bible is very highly rated by all the people who supposedly live by it but who in actuality have not read it. Those of us who have read it know there are some good parts, but overall it is certainly not the finest thing that man has ever produced. It is repetitive, self-contradictory, sententious, foolish and even at times ill-intentioned. 

Then they recommend an alternative, a novel that they say will be good for those who heard that the thing that’s good about the Bible is “the nasty bits.”

There are so many things that we could say about the fact that God-breathed scripture has wound up on a list of books that supposedly aren’t so hot. We could even analyze their maybe not so untrue jab about Christians who don’t spend much time reading God’s words (although I would argue that none of GQ‘s editors have sat down and read the Bible cover to cover). But, I would suggest that we resist the temptation to do so. God isn’t shocked when His word is mocked, nor is He wringing His hands about it right now. Neither should we. The Bible is filled with verses about this very thing happening, and sadly things don’t end well for those who reject the truth of God’s word.

The editors of GQ don’t have the power to hurt scripture or its message. God doesn’t need the editors of an ungodly magazine to approve of His word. He already speaks clearly about people like them. Instead of demanding an apology or all of those other silly things that we tend to want as American Christians, our time would be better spent praying that the editors of GQ would have their eyes opened, so that they would see that the message of the cross is the power of God to those who believe.

If the editors of GQ come to the end of their lives, holding hard to their “truth” that the Bible is foolish, in one last breath they will learn the awful otherwise. Pray for their salvation and their rescue from the wrath of a Holy God.

The wise will be put to shame; they will be dismayed and trapped. Since they have rejected the word of the LORD, what kind of wisdom do they have? Jeremiah 8:9

For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written: “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.” Where is the wise person? Where is the teacher of the law? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe. Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength.  1 Corinthians 1:18-26

The person without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God but considers them foolishness, and cannot understand them because they are discerned only through the Spirit. 1 Corinthians 2:14

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