Derelict Theology

I know I haven’t been updating like I should but lately it seems like I really don’t have much to talk about. Life is good. No major complaints. I’ve been reading this book lately, though, that’s turned my world upside down. It’s called “Irresistible Revolution” by Shane Claiborne. And it’s all about how Christianity has missed the mark for loving the poor and broken of this world, how the haves and the have nots are so seperated that it’s ridiculous, and how most of our “charity” towards them is not really charity at all but a way to clear our conscience of guilt for the poor.

Since I took our youth to camp I’ve been thinking a lot about what I need and what I want. Often times, my wants way overshadow my needs, and it creates problems in my finances. All because I need more stuff. I’ve decided recently that more stuff really just makes life complicated. It’s a burden that’s hard to bear and it consumes you and makes you need more and more even though you’ve already got a lot. And I’ve realized that by hording and gaining more and more that I’m not really honoring God, in fact, I may have been hindering His work in my life.

Some of my faithful readers (all 4 of you) may know that I’ve been an avid collector of Transformers for years. My collection has grown tremendously over the years and I have over 1200 pieces in my collection. And I am quite proud of it. Was quite proud of it. God did something my heart one night last week and suddenly I came to be pretty sick of my collection. Just like that. And he reminded me, in the quietness of an insomniatic night, that I had been asked to give them up 3 years earlier. And so did. They are all going up for sale starting this week. And it’s a huge step for me. It’s a painful step, but I know it’s for the best. I no longer want to spend money on things just for myself, but for my family. And that’s where this money will go.

If you are the praying type, as you read this, please pray for me that I have the strength to do this necessary thing. And pray that God will continue to show me what to do with my life and that I will have the courage to follow it.

A badly drawn Isaac, but funny nonetheless…

3 months ago I sat nervously watching your mommy get an IV, while listening to her complain that the room we were in didn’t have a TV. I walked across the room, opened a cabinet, and suddenly she smiled….I’d found the television. We watched The Price is Right, The View, the Game Show Network…basically anything we could do to keep our mind off you. You were on your way, and the anticipation was nearly enough to kill us. I’ll admit I was more than a little scared. I mean, I’d never done this before. What could a 26 year old know about being a dad? Thoughts raced through my mind that I’d never had before. I sat and tried to finish a lesson for Wednesday night youth service, and I did, but my thoughts were always on you.

Every now and then I’d look over at your mommy as she lay there in bed and read magazines. I knew she was just as uncomfortable as me, but she wouldn’t say it. Your mommy is one tough lady. Your grandma, grandpa, Pa, and Mimi took turns in the waiting room with me. Others even stopped by to wait or to offer their prayers. They knew just what I had no clue about: you were so special, even then. Finally, the time came for you to be born, and mommy went to surgery, with Mimi in tow, because your daddy couldn’t stand the thought of your mommy being cut open. 45 tense minutes later, and there you were, screaming into the world with a huge set of lungs that I knew you could have only gotten from me.

When I think about the greatest moments of my life, I will always think about when I first saw you. There you were, laid out on the table in the nursery like some alien being, with goop in your eyes and something hanging out of your belly button that was blue. Your hair was going every which way and you were squirming around, and I knew then that you were going to be full of life. I stood by while the nurses cleaned you up and I was able to video you, and take pictures. When I turned around, there were all your relatives crowding around the windows to the nursery, trying their best to be the first one to get a glimpse of you. It wasn’t long before you were wrapped up and whisked away from us for tests, and we waited again.

Mommy came back to the room and she was groggy from surgery, but she was so beautiful. Then, in that moment, you came through the door for the first time and I knew that I was done for. The old life I’d lived was dead and here you were to help us build a new one. There’s a picture on the bulletin board that hangs over my desk at the office, and there in the corner is a picture of me with you for the first time. I’m smiling like I’m happy, but inside I had no idea what I’d gotten myself into. My stomach was churning. And now that I look at it, wow, you’ve changed so much! You’ve gone from the little potato that used to have to constantly have a blanket on him to the child that giggles and coos as he lays in the bed beside me at 6 in the morning. To the child who grins back at me. To the child that laughs when grandpa makes silly faces, or when Mimi talks to him.

Son, you constantly blow me away, and there is no greater job in this life than to be your father. Thanks for an awesome 3 months.