tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54731695064795636492024-03-12T20:56:46.324-04:00this, that, and the othervarious thoughts on faith, family, culture, current events, technology, sports, and a little humor from time to time. oh yeah - please check out my songs too! thanks for visiting!lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.comBlogger109125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-7658190767690929752011-06-21T19:04:00.000-04:002011-06-21T19:04:02.731-04:00My Blog Has Moved!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Thanks for following my old blog, "this, that, and the other." I moved to Tumblr.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://777wordsorless.tumblr.com/">Here</a> is the link. I hope you will follow my new blog, "777 Words Or Less."<br />
<br />
Peace,<br />
Lance<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-8815184258466285252011-06-18T15:15:00.000-04:002011-06-18T15:15:12.267-04:00My Four Fathers: Father # 4 - God<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">I<span style="font-family: inherit;"> remember the day well. I was 7 years old. It had stormed the night before at our farm in Hillsboro. It wasn't just any storm. It was the kind that only came around every once and a while. The kind that did things to the land that previous storms failed to do. For instance, while we were all huddled around the fire place for warmth and light that spring night after the power went out our biggest and oldest oak tree was struck by lightning - splitting it to the bottom. It fell with an earth-shaking thud - just missing our house. We heard it and felt it - and could see it for split seconds at a time with each subsequent lightning strike as we looked out the window . But it wasn't until morning that we really saw the damage. We were thankful it missed our farm house. But we were sad our mighty oak had been struck down. I personally had spent many hours up in that oak tree. But for me the sadness lasted briefly because that fallen tree turned into a paradise of recreation. I could run the length of it, climbing it - this time horizontally and not vertically. I made it a make believe plane or a pirate ship. My imagination was endless and I spent hours playing there until it was sawed up and hauled truckload by truckload to are larger wood pile. No doubt we burnt it during those winters there. But as with all things on the farm that tree provided a hiding place - a refuge during my own personal violent storms caused by my drunken step-dad. Whenever it was about to get bad I would run to that tree - to the fallen part where the most branches were the thickest with the leaves that remained and I would disappear. Sometimes though I went there after things already got bad. And there I would cry and wish it would all go away. Nobody could see me there. And they certainly wouldn't find me right away. But on one day in particular I remember doing something extraordinary - and not in a good way. It is my first remembrance of communicating to God (but not my first exposure to Him - I fondly recall my public school first grade teacher, Mrs. Bobb, giving me a book called "Little Visits With God". I don't remember much about the book except the cover - children playing with Jesus by a babbling brook. But I do remember her kindness toward me in giving it to me. There's something to be said for that.) But my first communication to God came after another painful and difficult episode with Bob. I ran to my tree and got as high as I could in it even in its fallen condition and I looked up to the clouds where I thought God to be and I raised both fists to Him and I flipped him off. And I cursed Him. Now I don't think that's a common thing that you will find with most children that age, but my first conscious thought of God was one of hate and blame. I blamed God for all that was happening to me. I never questioned whether there was a God. I guess it's because I needed to believe that Someone had to be responsible for allowing this and I wanted nothing to do with that Being. Not a good way to start out thinking about God, but it's how I felt and what I believed deep down on the inside.</span></span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Shortly thereafter my mom became a Christian followed by my sister who is six years older than me. Things changed for us in very dramatic ways. For one thing, my mom took us to church every chance she got. And she wanted very much for me to become a Christian. I don't remember a whole lot about that first Baptist church there in Hillsboro. But I do remember the pastor and his family and the associate pastor and his family. The pastor had a daughter that was my first crush. And I remember going to a Christian camp up north somewhere. It was there that I nearly drowned when a big kid jumped in the pool on top of me - pushing me under. I lost my bearings and freaked out. I could swim like a fish, but I might as well been deep in the ocean with no way up. That's when the lifeguard got a hold of me and took me to safety. There are scattered memories here and there from that time. I also recall the time that me and the associate pastors son got run up a tree by an angry bull. Behind the church property was someone's land and we jumped the fence one day messing around back there - not knowing there were bulls on that land. That is, until one came charging us. We just made it up. It hung around a while and then slowly walked off. Once it was out of sight we jumped down the tree and jumped back over the fence to safety. We never did that again but it was exhilarating. But you would think that all the time I spent in church during that time that I would have "become a Christian." But it didn't happen at the church. It happened on a Saturday. At home. I was watching Looney Tunes and my mom decided she wanted me to listen to some guy talk about God. She changed the channel and we watched it together. I remember thinking the man seemed nice. And I liked the way he talked. He didn't talk like anyone I knew. But what upset me was the fact that there was this telephone number on the bottom of the screen and it wouldn't go away. It was distracting. So I asked my mom about it and why it was on the screen and why wouldn't it go away. She, in her early Christian zeal, took that as an opportunity to help me "become a Christian." This was done, of course, by calling the number. She dialed it and put the phone to my ear and I talked to some nice lady who told me she was with the Billy Graham evangelistic team. I guessed (and correctly) that the man on the television was Rev. Graham. She asked me if I wanted to go to Heaven. I wasn't sure about that because I knew enough about things to know that God was in Heaven. That's where He lived and, as you can gather by what I said above, I wasn't to fond of God. But everything else she said sounded pretty good. And I figured Heaven had to be a big place. Maybe I wouldn't see God when I got there. Kind of like I never really saw the mean man who owned the grocery store. But that didn't keep me from going and getting a tasty freeze. So she asked if I wanted to go to Heaven. I thought, "Why not?" She told me to repeat to her the words that she said to me. It was easy. After we were done I said, "That's it?" She said, "Yes. You are now on your way to Heaven!" Incredible! If only it was that easy. Of course, my mom and sister were happy. Everyone was happy. Everyone but me. I was no more a Christian then I was Billy Graham! But I know everyone meant well and I don't blame anyone. They were all doing the best that they could.</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">My second "profession of faith" came in the sixth grade at my Christian school. My mom had put me in a Christian school when I was in fourth grade. I had no business being in a Christian school. I was one messed up kid. When I was in sixth grade I was up to the same old tricks. On one occasion I talked a kid into taking his metal art scissors and sticking them in a light socket. I promised him it would be fun and that he wouldn't get hurt. I was wrong. He did it and it blew him backward a good five to ten feet into a row of empty desks. I thought I killed him, but not quite. I remember the lights flickering off too. Nobody every found out about that one. The fear of God was firmly planted in that kid's heart by way of me and he wasn't about to tell anyone. But then there was Bucky. He was a head taller than anyone, and if memory serves me he was at least two grades behind. But I felt confident I could handle Bucky in any format. He liked to brag and I liked to prove him wrong. He swore he could hold his breath longer than anyone. I swore I could hold mine longer than him. We decided this needed to be settled - and in front of everyone because he told everyone. So the teacher was called down to the office via the class intercom and that's when we chose to stage this little contest. But here's the thing. I knew I would win because I knew I was going to cheat. So on the count of three, Bucky and I gulped in air and the game was on. Now we walked up toward the front of the room to do this so everyone could see. There we were - both of us with a cheeks swollen with air as we held our breath. One of our fellow students had us on his stopwatch. But while Bucky was sincerely holding his breath, I was ever so slightly breathing - just enough so as not to be noticeable but enough to get the job done. All of a sudden Bucky started turning different colors. Meanwhile I was cool, calm, and collected. Bucky's eyes started to gloss over. He started swaying. And then it happened - he lost the time and staggered head first toward the classroom door. He fell hard into the metallic door frame and banged himself up pretty good. He didn't feel a thing. He was out cold. Well, you can imagine, all manner of panic set in. Me, I was in bad trouble. He was too, but not as bad as me. He recovered just fine, but when he did it was time for us to give an account. So, being smart Christian school kids who knew the drill - we came up with a scheme. We both went to the same Baptist church. Our disciplinary meeting was going to happen on a Friday morning. We went to midweek service on Thursday night. So Buck and I decided we would walk the aisle and get saved. That's right. You read that right. We were going to go forward and repent of our wicked ways and accept Jesus Christ into our hearts as Lord and Savior. We were no longer going to be rebel hellions bent on our wicked ways. And that's what we did. We did this to get out of trouble. Not because we were led to by the regenerative work of the Holy Spirit. We made quite a splash with this. Got baptized and all. Got our names written down in the book on the front row. We were full-fledged born again, baptized Baptists. And, of course, we got out of trouble. At least the trouble we were in at the present time. Now if eternity depended on that decision - let's just say I would have been in real trouble. I was no more a Christian then I was the Guinness book of world records breath holding champion. But I don't think anyone knew that at the time. Maybe except for Bucky.</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Years past. I learned to tow the line. Getting in constant trouble got old. I began to outwardly conform and became quite the good youth group member. Everyone had high hopes for me. In high school I became the president of the student body, the year book editor, the president of student council, the basketball star, made it to homecoming court - everything. You name it I achieved it. I had my pick of Christian schools to attend but chose the one my best friend at the time went to. I went there for that reason and that reason alone. But during my high school years especially I was a mess on the inside. I knew I was lost but everyone thought I was the best young man in the Christian school and the youth group at church. I went to one of the most prominent independent fundamental Baptist churches in the world. The pastor to this day remains legendary in those circles. Who on earth could I talk to about my eternal soul? I would have very real fear every time I got in my car to go home from basketball practice or a game. What if I crashed? I would die and go to Hell! Many times I thought about checking out the easy way like my real dad Ed, but I knew I would go to Hell and that fate was much worse than what I was experiencing then. I remember being at an invitational basketball tournament my senior year of high school. After we had played a game to land us in the finals while everyone else from my team was in the stands awaiting our game I was in the locker room throwing up. I was sweating profusely and trembling. I wasn't sick in my body. I was just completely overcome with fear. And I kept praying over and over again, "If I'm not saved, Jesus, please save me!" I was frantic. While in that condition I didn't realize that someone had come in to the locker room. I don't remember now who it was, but I told them I just got saved. We went together and told my coach who just looked at me. We won the tournament. I won tournament MVP after notching a double-double in points and rebounds. And when accepting the tournament trophy and MVP trophy I announced that I had just become a Christian. Of course, this was exciting news to everyone. Everyone but me. It was all emotion and fear. And after some time it was determined by older and wiser people around me that I was already saved. I just needed assurance of my salvation. But I know now what I knew then - I wasn't a true believer. I was just a kid who was completely messed up by the past of my childhood and the present of my extremely religious surroundings. Of course, everyone meant well. But I had to get away. And I did. </span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Strangely it would be during my freshman year at an extremely conservative independent fundamentalist Baptist Bible college that I would become a Christian. I say strangely because I had to get out from under the familiarity of my Christian school and church for this to happen. And it was a process. It happened in January of 1993. God the Holy Spirit was doing a work in my heart of showing me - not just that I was lost (I knew that!) - but that I needed to be saved. He used faithful friends and professors to aid with this and I could write much about this but God used something extremely key in my life to reach me. His Word. Now I had spent years secretly in my own heart hoping to find something wrong with the Bible. I wanted a way out. I still had so much baggage from my childhood and new baggage from legalism that had made me a complete wreck on the inside. But over the course of time I developed a respect and even belief in the authenticity of the Bible. It appealed to me on a lot of levels scientifically and historically. Biblical prophecy - both the prophecy and the fulfillment of thousands of prophecy's - impacted me greatly. I began to understand that there had to be something to this Book - written by at least 42 people in three different languages over a period of 1500 years on three different continents. There was harmony and consistency throughout and try as I might I couldn't find the fault that I wanted to find. In fact, just the opposite started to happen for me. The Bible began to speak to me in a very specific and profound way - a necessary way - for me to understand more about God. You see, God used what Jesus went through on this earth to really speak to me. As I read through the Gospels for class my freshman year of college I was constantly struck by how Jesus always referred to God as the "Father." He was about His Father's business, etc. I don't have the statistics in front of me but Jesus refers to God as Father almost exclusively throughout His earthly ministry. And then you see Jesus praying to the Father in the Garden. And you read about His suffering. And always He's talking to the Father. And then you read His seven phrases from the cross and He mentions the Father. But there is one profoundly key moment when He is hanging from the cross that He does not call God "Father." It's when He cries out, "My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?" I remember with stunning clarity how reading that phrase and pondering on the fact that Jesus does not, in this moment, call God "Father." And it all became clear to me. And I needed to have this clarity because of the dad's I grew up with. Jesus lost His Father too. Right there on the cross He fully understood what it meant to be forsaken. He knew that pain! He knew my pain! And the reason why He was separated from God the Father is because He chose to take sin - my sin - upon Himself on that cross. He became a sacrifice for sin - my sin. And God couldn't look upon that. Jesus tasted death and separation from God so that I wouldn't have to. And that is what God used to reach me. I went over to a professors house late one night and we talked about this. He reminded me that I knew the Bible better than most of his students. He said one verse to me - John 6:37, "All that the Father gives to me (Jesus) will come to me, and he that comes to me I will not cast out." My professor said to me, "Why don't you come to Him today?" And on that day I did. And from that day to this I've always believed that I was truly a child of God. I was God's child. I no longer saw God as an enemy out to get me and harm me. I now understood that He was working through all of my life's circumstances to bring me to Himself. And the beauty of this is - He's not just my God now. He's my Father. Even more, He's my "Abba Father" - which means "Daddy." I have a Father in Heaven. And as blessed as I am on this earth to have Charlie Valentine as my earthly father, that is a small thing in comparison to the fact that I am a child of God and that He is my eternal Father. </span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Perhaps the best way I can close out this blog series on my four fathers is to quote from my favorite passage of scripture - Romans 8:14-39. It is a long passage and it will make this blog post even longer but it is well worth reading and considering. And no matter where you are at in your life and no matter what type of father or fathers you have had I can honestly say that I know of a Father who would love to be your Father too. And if He becomes your Father then that makes us family. And there is nothing better than family. </span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267"> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0in;
mso-para-margin-right:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0in;
line-height:115%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}
</style> <![endif]--> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>Romans 8:14-39:</span></span></div><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>14 For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. 15 For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” 16 The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, 17 and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. 18 For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. 19 For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. 20 For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope 21 that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. 22 For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. 23 And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. 24 For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? 25 But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. 26 Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. 27 And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. 28 And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. 29 For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. 30 And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified. 31 What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? 33 Who shall bring any charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies. 34 Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. 35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? 36 As it is written,</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>“For your sake we are being killed all the day long;<br />
we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Happy Father's Day, God.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">From your son, Lance.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UgDo95SC9ec/Tfz0lEdTu9I/AAAAAAAAATQ/hnwKzCX5_e4/s1600/father.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UgDo95SC9ec/Tfz0lEdTu9I/AAAAAAAAATQ/hnwKzCX5_e4/s320/father.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-69039938545825119972011-06-17T19:49:00.000-04:002011-06-17T19:49:41.415-04:00My Four Fathers: Father # 3 - Charlie<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">By now, if you've followed this, you've read about my first two dads. The first one - Ed - I never knew. The second one - Bob - I wish I never knew. After Bob went away to prison my mom sold the farm to some very nice people. I'm happy to say that the same family owns it after all these years. They've taken such good care of it. In fact, they've improved upon it in every way. That means a lot to me. From time to time Erin and I drive there and visit. They are kind enough to allow us to look around. It takes me back to a bad time but a good place. It wasn't the farms fault what happened. If it wasn't for the safe haven of the farm to take me away from it all I don't know where I'd be today. But the farm was too much for my mom, my sister and I. So we moved to a tiny double-wide on the exact opposite side of Hillsboro even further out from town. I think we all needed that distance from everything that happened. I guess we were there for the better part of two years. They were good years. Me and the neighbor boy got on real well. I learned to ride a three wheeler, a four wheeler, and a dirt bike while living there. He and I raced all over the country side. And back behind the corn fields that separated our properties was a deep woods with a much bigger creek than what I had on the farm that ran through it. That's where I spent my time - fishing, swimming, and skipping rocks. In fact, while looking for rocks to skip we came upon a lot of arrowheads. So we went from skipping to collecting those. It was like looking for treasure. I could write more on those two years but I'll save that for another time. Our time was short there in Berrysville. Milford was to be our next destination. Back to the suburbs. This time Cincinnati instead of Dayton. To this day I'm still trying to figure out how to get back to the country.<br />
<br />
My mom had put my sister and I in a Christian school. I was in fourth grade when this happened and I'm quite sure Miss Miles, Miss White, and Mrs. Prinzing will attest to the fact that I was not like most of the other kids. I was a troublemaker. I sought to fight anyone and everyone. And whoever I couldn't whip with my hands I whipped with my words. It wasn't because I was all that tough. I was just scared to death inside so I acted tough to compensate. When my mom moved us to Milford to be closer to the school she found work at a Bible printing ministry on the same campus - both associated with the same church. My mom couldn't handle me anymore. Whenever she tried to discipline me I would laugh at her. She told Mr. Bragg - the principal - that she needed help. She told him I needed a man to straighten me out. After a while he knew the story about how I had come up. I wasn't a typical Christian school kid. And I certainly wasn't a Christian. I cussed and fought and everything else. He had no choice but to paddle me - almost daily - and my mother encouraged him to do so. This was back when a kid could still be disciplined at school. Whenever I got sent to the office he would call my mom over to witness the discipline. I was struck by the man. He did his job (and well I might add), but he got no joy out of it. Three swats to the butt and a prayer on the verge of tears from Mr. Ed Bragg (accompanied by free-flowing tears from my mother) started a course correction deep inside of me. It would take years to see it all the way through. But I knew something for the first time - there are men who aren't bad and who care. I still got in trouble, but not as much. But Mr. Bragg wasn't the complete answer for me. Not by far. But he was one of many necessary people in my life. But not the most important. That's where Charlie comes in.<br />
<br />
Mom worked at the office of this printing ministry. Charlie was the head pressman. He had been printing Bibles and sending them all over the world for years. He felt called to it. At the time I didn't understand it - being called to something. But I do now. But Charlie was a single man. He had three sons - one of which still lived with him. His name is Jamie. My mom and Charlie kind of hit it off from the start. Now this was briefly problematic for Jamie. Jamie and my sister, Tonya, are the same age. And they kind of ever so slightly liked each other - which is a bid deal in high school. But they both realized that mom and Charlie were getting serious so that ended that. Don't worry - there are no Jerry Springer episodes on this. It wasn't that big of a deal. Actually the whole thing was a big deal to me. I had no interest whatsoever in my mom being with another man. I had no interest in another dad. So quite unfairly - I wanted nothing to do with Charlie Valentine. So far he hadn't done anything wrong. It was just the way it was with me. Despite my best efforts, Charlie stuck around.<br />
<br />
Charlie married my mom on August 11th, 1984. I was 10 years old. This happened in a private ceremony at the Baptist church we all attended at the time. It was just the pastor, my mom, Charlie, my sister, Jamie and maybe two or three others. There's a picture of us in front of the church afterward. My expression belies what was happening inside. I was awaiting the inevitable. He was bound to be a bad man. I just knew it. How could he not be?<br />
<br />
Charlie was a quiet man. He spoke quietly. He laughed quietly. He had a subtle sense of humor. And he could do anything. Before he decided to serve God full-time as a Bible printer he had been a union man down south - a pipe-fitter. He worked jobs everywhere but God saved him and put him on the straight and narrow. God put the Word of God in his heart. He felt called to preach. But life circumstances changed that. A divorce happened that wasn't his fault. He believed that a divorced man was no longer blameless, therefore he believed he could not be a preacher. But then someone came to his church in South Carolina and told about the Bible printing ministry in Ohio and their need for skilled men to work the presses. Charlie answered the call. He took Jamie with him and no doubt in his life ministry of thirty plus years of printing scriptures he touched God knows how many people with the Word of God. Certainly more than he would have had he been a preacher. He was a faithful Sunday school teacher for decades. Everybody knew Charlie and loved him. Except me. I kept waiting to see the real Charlie. I watched his every move. I waited for him to yell at me. Curse me. Punch or kick me. One time we came home from Church. We had stopped at the grocery for some milk and other items on the way home. I carried the bag of groceries inside and I stumbled and fell walking into the kitchen. The bag busted open and everything fell to the floor. The milk jug burst and milk went everywhere. Instinctively I half curled up in a ball against the wall. Now the real Charlie would come out. He was bound to set it on me now! Look what I had done! I'll never forget the look on his face. It wasn't one of anger. It was one of compassion mixed with sadness. He quietly went and got some towels and told me he would take care of it. He said, "Lance, it's just spilled milk. We don't cry over spilled milk in this house." And he grinned at me. That was his way. Always making quiet, funny jokes. I went and grabbed a towel too and I helped clean up my mess - both of us on the floor side by side. That was a key moment for me. He was starting to win me over, but I still kept fighting it. I continued to say very little to him. I just kept watching him.<br />
<br />
Charlie had a habit that many would do well to have. In fact, he still has it to this day. At night he would see us all to bed. He would just say goodnight to me at my door. I wouldn't let him get any closer, and he seemed to understand. I would, however, ask him to keep it cracked. I didn't like the dark. I always wanted to see what was going on around me in case something bad was coming. After we were all to bed he would go to the living room and turn on the light by the couch. I could see him through the crack in my door. And there he would sit every night and read his Bible. After he would read, he would turn the light out and then he would lay down on the floor face first and out loud but very softly he would pray. He was never in a hurry. And I heard every word. And I would listen to him pray for my mom, and my sister, and Jamie, and his two oldest sons Chuck and Randy (each with difficult lives), and then he would pray for me. I could hear the heartache in his voice. He wanted very much to be a dad to me and said so to God. He would pray for wisdom on how to do it. He would pray for the words on how to say it. He would pray for the patience to wait on me. But what he didn't know was that I was watching him. And he didn't need any of that at all. All I needed to do was to watch him - night in and night out - reading, praying for me. In my damaged heart and mind I began to realize that this is what a good man is. And not just a good man but a godly one. Now I didn't fully understand what godly meant back then, but I definitely knew something was different about Charlie Valentine. I knew I had a choice to make.<br />
<br />
I remember the night like it was yesterday. My heart was racing. My throat was dry. I watched him sit down and start reading his Bible. I was nearly 11 years old when this happened. But that night I opened up my door and walked out to the couch and sat down next to Charlie. He didn't say anything. He just kept reading. He was waiting on me. I guess he figured I came out for a reason. After a time of silence sitting there with him I began to speak. I said, "Mr. Valentine, can I ask you something?" He said, "Sure, Lance. Ask me anything." I said, "Mr. Valentine, I was wondering if I could...if I could call you dad." He paused - long enough to almost make me dart back to my room wishing I'd kept my mouth shut. But after a few moments he said, "Well, Lance, you can call me dad on one condition." I said, "OK. What's that?" He said, "You can call me dad if I can call you son." I thought long and hard on that - probably longer than what he did. I said, "OK, Mr. Valentine. You can call me son." And he said, "Then, Lance, you can call me dad." And we shook hands on it. And I went back to bed. This time I shut the door all the way. And I've shut my door to go to bed every night sense then. Because I was no longer scared of the dark. I felt safe. I had a dad! And from that day on I've not only called him "dad", I call him "daddy." I'm 37 years old, but if he walked into the room right now where I'm writing this, I would say, "Hey, daddy." And he would hug my neck just as hard as I would hug his.<br />
<br />
In all the years I've known him - 27 to be exact - he has never - not one time - called me a horrible name. He has never raised his voice to me. He has never raised a hand to me in abuse. He has been a dad in every sense of what a dad should be. And he is my hero. People are shocked to know he's not my real father. I talk like him. I walk like him. I grin like him. I laugh like him. I have inherited his corny jokes. I try to treat people the way he treats people. He's a gentleman and so very kind and loving to my mother. I try to be the same for my wife. I call my wife the same pet names he calls my mother. People think I'm from the south, but I was born north of the Mason-Dixon line. It's just that my daddy - Charles Valentine - is from Mississippi by way of South Carolina and I lived in North Carolina in my twenties for almost nine years. Plus there's the farm. So you get a mixed up Yankee in me. But I'm OK with that just as long as people think that Charlie is my dad. There's only one person in this whole world that I want to be like as a man and you now know more about that man.<br />
<br />
A few years ago on Father's Day I went looking for a card to give him. I couldn't find one that said anything right. So I bought a blank one and thought on what I should say. I settled on this brief sentence, "Daddy, Jesus saved my soul, but you saved my life. I love you. Your son, Lance."<br />
<br />
And that's the truth. <br />
<br />
Happy Fathers' Day, Charlie - A.K.A. - Daddy.<br />
<br />
From your son, Lance.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4vOJH9Qj2Tc/Tfvjv85iVmI/AAAAAAAAATM/8oCZTsjxdV0/s1600/me_10.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4vOJH9Qj2Tc/Tfvjv85iVmI/AAAAAAAAATM/8oCZTsjxdV0/s320/me_10.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div></div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-5237062538256487692011-06-16T09:00:00.000-04:002011-06-16T09:00:25.284-04:00My Four Fathers: Father # 2 - Bob<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">My mother did her best for three and a half years to take care of my sister and I after my dad's suicide. But he left us with nothing. She was a single mom barely getting by but doing the best that she could. But she couldn't do it alone. Her family helped out, but it became obvious that she needed a husband. I still had no clue what had happened to my dad. He was simply gone and we were alone and struggling.<br />
<br />
I don't remember when Bob came around. I was only five years old. I don't know how they met. I never asked and I never will. But the next thing I knew they were married. I don't recall any wedding. Maybe there was one. All I do remember is it seemed like one day we were living in the suburbs of Dayton and the next day we were on a farm in Hillsboro. It was a new beginning to be sure. I took to the farm as if I was born to it. It was a small farm. We had 18 acres of corn fields, soy bean fields, and pastures. We had our own woods and a creek. We had numerous out buildings - including one of the oldest barns in Highland County. The farm needed work when we got there but we all dove right in to get it done. Bob brought a much older son in his early 20's to the marriage as well as a daughter my sisters age. I honestly don't remember things being that bad at first, and maybe they weren't. Maybe they were, but I was too busy becoming a farm boy. To this day I will always claim being a country boy even though I was born in the city. The farm had that much of an impact on my life even though I only lived there for just over three years.<br />
<br />
We had just about every possible farm animal. I had my own horse, cow, goat, lamb, chicken, and pig. The pig was named Lucy and I remember when she came to our farm as a piglet - in a feed barrel. Bob gave her to me to take care of and I did until she was huge. Then she was gone. I didn't know it at the time, but Lucy - well, you can probably guess what happened to her. She was still with us, just not in the same way as before. I remember whittling a profile of Lucy out of wood and carving her name into it. I hung it on my bedroom wall. I loved Lucy. I also had two dogs - Chip and Lady. I had a beagle for all of a few minutes. She was brought home to me only to jump out of the truck - running out onto the road and getting hit by a car. That crushed me. I don't remember her name. I may not have even named her. Of course, we had barn cats and a lot of them. But as a kid I was allergic to cats so I didn't do much with them. That's hard to fathom now because my wife and I currently have four cats. I outgrew my allergies and I'm glad I did. On the farm we had more than one each of the above animals. In fact we had a lot of each. My sister and I were involved with 4H. We went to the fair each year and showed our animals that we loved. The fair was a place of wonderment for me and I couldn't wait each year to go. I especially loved the tractor pulls. I always took good care of my animals but when the fair was coming around I took extra special good care. We won a lot of ribbons. There was no better feeling.<br />
<br />
I had plenty of chores on the farm. I was the "egg-getter" in our family - going to the chicken coop each morning to gather the eggs. I took that task very seriously. I sang to the chickens. They seemed to approve. I can remember the egg production being low for a time. I had told my mom that I liked to sing to the chickens. She asked me if was singing to them during this low production period. I realized I had stopped singing to them for whatever reason. So I started singing to them again and the eggs came in abundance. I don't know that there is any scientific data for this, but singing to chickens seems to help. You can use that. Now that was a typical start to my day followed by a country breakfast my mother would make - just about everything we ate came from our farm. Then I continued my chores - first inside. Making my bed and putting my toys back in the chest. And then I had my outside chores. I milked cows, cleaned stalls, let the animals out to pasture, fed the baby animals bottles - typical farm chores. Once my chores were done it was just me, the farm, and my imagination. We didn't have XBoxes's back then. I played outside. That was what kids did and it was just fine with me. I swam in the creek. I caught crawdads. I caught snapping turtles. I ran with the dogs through the fields - gathering burs and ticks all along the way. I built forts in the hay loft of the barn. I fished. I would make good and bad use of my BB gun and slingshot. You name it - I did it. I was allowed to watch Looney Tunes, but that was pretty much all the TV I watched - that and old movies. I loved John Wayne, Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, Gene Kelly, and Fred Astaire. When I was done watching an afternoon matinee - often with her - I would go out to our massive garden where every possible vegetable was grown and we would gather our vegetables. I would help my mom in the kitchen as she would can just about everything and I would help her carry it all down to the cellar to keep. Then I would go outside and climb trees. Sometimes I went to the woods, but we had some great trees in our yard outside the farm house. And we had fruit trees - a pear tree and an apple tree. I ate plenty of both. I would do this until the supper bell rang calling me in to clean up and eat. Some of my favorite times on the farm were when my mom and I would sit out on the porch in the cool of the evening after supper snapping beans together. You could hear the fly zapper working over time in the distance. Before getting cleaned up to go to bed I would run out into the yard with a large mason jar and catch lightning bugs. I got as many as I could then I would run in and take them to my bedroom and set them on my night stand. I had holes punched in the lid so they could breath and I would fall asleep watching them with utter fascination. I suppose much more could be said about this part of my life on the farm, but this is the good part. And the good is what I try to remember. The bad I try to forget.<br />
<br />
I don't think Bob was all bad at first. In fact, I remember a lot of good times. He had a speed boat and we used to ride it on Rocky Fork Lake. To this day I love being on the water and it has everything to do with the excitement and exhilaration I felt in that boat bouncing off the water at top speeds. We were always at the lake. Swimming, grilling, and partying. The best way I can describe Bob is to liken him to the Marlboro man. He was a ruggedly handsome man. He seemed a man's man. He could do anything. And he taught me a lot. He even taught me how to shoot a gun. That was awesome at first but over time became a terror. He drove me on our tractors in the fields with him. He would take me to the pony keg in his pickup truck on his beer runs. I loved that old Ford. He was fine when he was sober. He must have been well off to be able to move us to the farm and set us up the way he did. That had to have been a relief at first to my mother. I know he had at least two businesses. He owned a Schwinn bicycle shop and a doughnut shop - both in town. He brought home my first bike and taught me how to ride it. I took to it like a fish to water and me and that bike were inseparable. And he would take me to the doughnut shop early some mornings to be the official taste tester of the first batch of doughnuts. To this day I am addicted to doughnuts. So far this probably doesn't sound that bad, right? But as time went on the outside of farmhouse became a safe haven for me to escape to because what was starting to happen on the inside was the makings of hell on earth.<br />
<br />
Bob drank. And he drank a lot. We soon discovered that when he drank he became a mean and dangerous man. He was a full-fledged alcoholic.As time went on abuse set in when we was drunk. He never harmed my sister and for that I'm grateful. Perhaps it's because she was the same age as his daughter. I don't know why. But he more than made up for it with what he put both me and my mother through. I became an easy and helpless target for his drunken rages. I won't say much on this but I will always have with me the marks of this abuse. And it wasn't just physical. In fact, the physical was almost bearable. But it was the verbal and emotional abuse that rained down upon my young ears and mind that affected me the deepest. At times I wondered if he even knew my name because he never called me by it, and the names he used instead were horrible for a child to hear. And he hurt my mom. That was the worst part. I would do my best to help her but what could I do? Most times when I did try to help her at least it stopped what he was doing to her - turning his attacks on me instead. But that was better than seeing her hurt. Things got worse - especially when she became a Christian. A couple of people came by the house and told her about Jesus. The next thing I knew she was no longer the life of the party. She became altogether different. She was always a great mom, but now she loved God. I didn't understand it, but I went along with it. I was just a kid. My sister followed suit. My road to belief was a lot longer and winding and will be talked about later. But almost immediately we were in church and we never missed. Bob never went. In fact, it seemed to provoke him even more. The abuse got worse as if that were possible. And then the cheating happened. Maybe it happened before. I can't always keep the times of it all straight in my mind. But he became a serial adulterer. My mom would always find out and confront him and it never went well for her which meant it never went well for me. He would be gone all night and I would hear my mother crying softly in her bedroom. These were the darkest of dark days for us. He became the embodiment of evil. One day it all came to a head. I don't know what set it off. I only know he called drunk and said he was on his way home to kill us. My mom called the associate pastor of the church we went to at the time for help. He rushed over and thought it best to get the guns out of the house - which he did. But while he was gone Bob came home and brought his last round of hell with him. I remember very little of the episode. I remember my mom running to the bathroom screaming for me to come with her. I never made it. My sister wasn't around thankfully. Mom locked herself inside and I could hear her sobbing as I did all I could to keep him from beating down the door of the bathroom. At some point I lost the time. I think the law came. The sheriff lived the next farm over. I honestly don't know the sequence of things and who came to our rescue. I just know that we found ourselves in the home of the pastor of our church. He put us up secretly in their basement for a period of time. It could have been days, weeks, or months. To date I've not worked with the exact details of some of these things with my mother. It's too much to talk about. But we were safe and unharmed there for a period of time. Then one day came the news that he would never hurt us again. I know he went to jail. That's the last I know of that man and I'm fine with that. Much, much damage had been done and I was a long way away from being OK.<br />
<br />
All during this time my mother was my rock. She was my protector and healer. She loved on me - telling me it was going to be OK and I was not bad. None of this was my fault. I know she did the best that she could. Of course, many times during this whole chapter of my life (which lasted just over three years) I would ask where my dad was. Why couldn't he help? It was during this time that my mother sat me down on my bed and told me the awful truth. My dad was never coming home. My how I felt alone! And angry. And scared. So many things. I thought for sure he would come and rescue us. And while this created in me the beginnings of hatred for so many things it amazingly drew me very close to my mother and sister. They were all that I had. My mom's faith certainly sustained her and sheltered us. I would watch her faithfully read her Bible and pray. She was always serving at church and ultimately worked there for a time. She later put me and my sister in a private Christian school. I had no business being there candidly, but she did what she thought was best. I needed structure and discipline because I was becoming a very troubled child. But I have so much gratitude now for what my mother was trying to do for us. She was and is a godly woman and her faith affected me profoundly and ultimately made a huge impact on my life. One of the most precious moments I have in my life was the day when I was in college when my mother gave me her Bible from back in those days. It has become one of my most prized possessions. The first time I read the Bible through I used her Bible. By that time it was well worn. And I could literally see the tear stains on so many pages. And I would read note after note in the margins of the pages where she would cry out to God to save us from Bob. I read pleas that God would take care of me and help me. Prayers for healing. I read her sorrows and I read her joys. And I read how God had become the love of her life. Such sweet phrases of adoration flowed from her pen to those pages and no doubt made a huge impression on me. It took years before I was ready and able to appreciate them fully, but hers was a faith that endured through so much pain and suffering. Yet she never wavered and she's my hero for loving me through those days with a godly, motherly love. I didn't understand for many years just how significant this was, but she's truly my hero and I wouldn't be where I am today without her.<br />
<br />
It seems odd to say it but for a while she was both mother and father to me and I couldn't appreciate Father's Day the way I do today if it wasn't for how she helped me survive the man who was father # 2. And I am forever grateful to her. Now as Father's Day approaches I'm happy to say, "I love you Mom."<br />
<br />
From your son, Lance<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yBIBQv6urd4/Tfn89pH9NgI/AAAAAAAAATI/qQtZp4kNsm4/s1600/mom+and+me.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yBIBQv6urd4/Tfn89pH9NgI/AAAAAAAAATI/qQtZp4kNsm4/s320/mom+and+me.png" width="279" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<br />
</div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-76139755489213233362011-06-15T09:10:00.003-04:002011-06-15T09:19:40.914-04:00My Four Fathers: Father # 1 - Ed<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7ASh06VksfU/TfgguJPJfeI/AAAAAAAAATA/k27XAndJZA4/s1600/me_1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7ASh06VksfU/TfgguJPJfeI/AAAAAAAAATA/k27XAndJZA4/s320/me_1.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Yep. That's me. Pooch nose. Slight grin. Blonde hair. I came into the world in the dead of night - kicking and screaming. It's almost as if I knew the darkness that was coming and I wanted out before I was even placed into my mother’s arms. But the picture you see above is proof positive that Ed and Jacqui brought me into this world 37 years ago. Where does the time go?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">For years I knew very little about Ed except for the fact that he was my biological father. Any man can be a father. But fewer and fewer men know what it means to be a dad. I'll go one step further - fewer and fewer men know what it means to be a daddy. You see, I don't remember him. Not at all. I only know what he looks like through pictures that are now fading. I have no idea what kind of aftershave he wore. I don't know what his favorite food was. He didn't teach me how to throw a perfect spiral or a curve ball. He didn't exemplify to me how to be a gentleman or how to have a proper work ethic. He didn't start a business to pass down to me. I have no legacy at all from him when it comes right down to it. Most of what I do know about him can just about be summed up in what you’re reading now. For years I knew so little about him. In fact, it's only been in recent years that I have begun to learn more about him. For instance, I now know that he was a sergeant in the Air Force. I now know that he worked on the railroad by occupation - which makes sense because I have pictures of me when I was very little dressed up in little train conductor outfits and playing with locomotive toys. I now know that he loved boxing and was an amateur boxer. Again, I have pictures of me as a small child playing with his punching bag. I now know that he loved to bowl - he was in a bowling league in <st1:place>Beavercreek</st1:place>. I have a wooden trophy he won in the shape of a bowling pin forever recording the fact that he bowled a 237 one night. I have never bowled a 237. I bowled a 212 once but that was years ago and I’ve gotten nowhere near that score before or since. But that trophy is on my chest of drawers. I also know that he smoked - I don't know how much - but I have some of his old lighters now in my possession. My mother is the one who gave these and other things to me. It means more than words that she gave them to me. One of my most prized possessions was his class ring, but I lost it accidentally. Without question that is one of the biggest regrets of my life. I especially love his old school leather toiletry bag. I usually take it with me whenever I travel. I have a lot of his things now and I'm sure there's more that I could share about them but there are more important things to share right now. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I’ve always been amazed how someone that I don't remember has had such a profound impact on my life. But it's true. Now, I don't know how far back you can recollect, but my oldest recollection is of kindergarten. That memory takes me back to a day when it rained so much the garter snakes came rushing out of the ground. Recess outside was cancelled and while all of the other kids were inside playing in another room I sneaked out and collected as many garter snakes as I could and brought them back inside and put them in the girls desks. To me, much hilarity ensued. Not so much for everyone else. I had made a muddy mess of the place. I had caused a panic. The girls began to scream hysterically all at once upon discovering the snakes in their desks. And, of course, those same snakes got loose - inside. Not one of my finer moments. Or maybe it was? Anyway, that is my oldest memory. But nothing comes to mind at all about Ed – my real dad – and probably never will. So I have to go on what's been passed down to me over the years, mostly from my grandparents (Ed's parents), my mother, my sister and other relatives. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My sister is six years older than me, but Ed was not her dad. That story is for another time. But the one thing that they always tell me about Ed is that he was a good man. That has always been important to me, but it was also confusing. You see, he was a good man but troubled. He battled mental illness. I'm not sure if he faced any hardships in the service or not, but I do know now that he had moments when he completely isolated himself during the years after his military service. Sadly, mental illness runs deep on his side of my family. I can recall fifteen years ago or so now when my grandpa - Ed's dad (now deceased) - said to me with a tear in his voice about how he thanked God that I didn't get cursed with the mental illness so prevalent in my family. That’s one of two times that I ever saw my grandpa get emotional. The other was when he told me about the space shuttle Challenger blowing up. He was there. He was like John Wayne to me and to see him get emotional when he shared his relief to me about my lack of mental illness – well, let’s just say I’ll never forget it. I have not suffered with any mental illness in my lifetime and for that I am thankful. Mental illness is so very serious. But Ed was not as fortunate as me. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It all came to a head in July of 1975. We lived in a subdivision in Dayton, Ohio. Obviously, I don't recall the place and I've never been back to that house. But this summer I plan on doing so. That is, if it’s still there after all these years. We’ll see. I just found the address to that house - in Ed's wallet which is now in my possession. In case you haven’t guessed yet – it’s the house in which I was born. On that summer day, I'm told it was hot and sunny, and my grandma was down visiting with us (my mom's mother). There was a community pool and we were all going to go swimming. I was just one year old. My dad told everyone he wasn't feeling well and he was going to stay behind. This was nothing new and was getting worse by the day. So away we went - my mom, my grandma, my sister, and the little pooch-nosed handful that was me. I don't know how long we were gone, but it was long enough. When we got back to the house, my sister ran inside calling for my dad, "Eddy, Eddy, where are you?" It pains me to know she found him. You see, Ed took that time alone to make a choice – the kind of choice that you never get back. He died by his own hand that day. It’s believed that a bad mixture of medications prescribed by two separate doctors each unaware of the other seriously contributed to his extremely volatile state of mind. To my knowledge there was no note or explanation. I could be wrong, but I am very delicate with my dear mother whenever we do talk about it, which is so rare. To this day it breaks her heart. Perhaps one day I will know more about it. I often wonder how much more difficult things would have been in my life had I been old enough to find him – to see him in that horrific state. My sister and I have never spoken of that moment that she experienced to this very day. I can't bring myself to do so. And I'm so sorry for her. Now understand - I had no idea what happened then and, frankly, I didn’t know for many years. As I started to get older whenever I would ask about where my dad was I seem to recall everyone just saying that he was gone. Gone where? It took a while to get the truth. I think everyone thought they were being helpful and protective. How do you tell a child about their own dad taking his life and that he’s never coming back? The truth came when I was a troubled boy of seven or eight, but that's another story that I will share later and an important one. But all of what I just described to you is most of what I know about Ed - my real father. And I grew up without him. And I ultimately grew up knowing how he died. And words cannot adequately express how that affected me and, candidly, still affects me even to this day. I will never know him. There is such a heavy finality to that and it is part of who I was growing up and who I am today as a man. It is part of my history.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Every July, I go to the cemetery in Xenia where he is buried. I bring a flag and stick it in the ground above his grave. I pray for him. I salute him. I ask him questions. I get mad. I get sad. I stand in silence. It’s not as lonely now because Erin goes with me. Her support has been so precious to me. For years I did it alone. But every time I am there I wonder about his eternal soul. I'm honored to have the flag from his military funeral in a beautiful case - also on my chest of drawers. I touch it every day. I have his dog tags draped over top of the case. My mother gave those to me as well. I'm proud of his honorable service to our country. I have a framed letter from the President that I hold dear about my real dad. I'm glad he was a good man. I'm sad he was troubled. And all I can do is hope that he is in Heaven. My grandpa called him a Christian. I will only know in eternity. In the meantime, I do everything I can to be a good man as well, and what’s more, a godly one. I still bear his name so I seek to honor the name that he gave to me. I look like him. His blood is in my veins. He will always be the dad I never knew, but he's still my dad. On Father's Day a few years ago I finally found the words to <a href="http://dl.dropbox.com/u/1795632/Music%20Links/North%20Bound%20Train.doc">write</a> for a song of dedication to him. Knowing that he loved trains and worked on the railroad, I always wanted to write a song about a train - especially one for him. There have been a lot of great songs about trains, so I wasn't in a hurry. But it finally came to me, and I wrote it down. The music came with the lyric as happens with most of my songs. I put it down so as not to forget it and then I recorded a rough demo of it. It's called "<a href="http://dl.dropbox.com/u/1795632/Music%20Links/North%20Bound%20Train_Rough.mp3">North Bound Train</a>" and every time I sing it I think of him. I wrote it as if he was searching for something here or elsewhere - maybe he found it - maybe he didn't. But it is a song of longing. How could it not be? I will forever long to know the man I never knew. But know this - as hard as this story may be to read I am thankful for Ed - the man who is my real dad. And if he's in Heaven today, I pray he's proud of me and that he knows I'm doing everything I can to make his gift of life in me worthwhile - in this life and hopefully in eternity. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Happy Father’s Day, Ed.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">From your son, Lance</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U7Blud1JQwo/TfgkMYAN64I/AAAAAAAAATE/jxdEa9S1k5M/s1600/me_2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U7Blud1JQwo/TfgkMYAN64I/AAAAAAAAATE/jxdEa9S1k5M/s320/me_2.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-68042701500597034122011-06-14T22:51:00.000-04:002011-06-14T22:51:35.096-04:00My Four Fathers: An Introduction<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Recently, I had the privilege of writing a book review for a book entitled <a href="http://lancebrewer.blogspot.com/2011/05/book-review-sword-of-lord-roots-of.html">"The Sword of the Lord: The Roots Of Fundamentalism In An American Family"</a> by Andrew Himes. While reading the book Andrew and I corresponded numerous times. In our latter correspondences we communicated less about the book and more about...me. Andrew told me how much he enjoyed my blog and watching my video testimony on the blog called <a href="http://vimeo.com/15506428">"A Story Of Four Fathers"</a>. He encouraged me by saying that my story needs to be heard and that he believed a book was in me somewhere. Now, I've thought about writing books before. I have numerous ideas for fiction and historical fiction books. Many of my friends and family have encouraged me to write a book of short stories about the unique and often hilarious things that have happened to me in my life. I've thought a lot about that. I am a published song writer and over the years I have written hundreds of songs. That has been my biggest goal and I am slowly (emphasis on slowly) working on that. For instance, I have a song that I wrote called "Resurrection". When I wrote it I heard Alison Krauss singing it. I think it's a hit (what songwriter doesn't, right?). She just doesn't know it yet! :) Maybe one day. Ah, well. Anyway, I've written a lot of other things going back even to my childhood. I actually still have a short story that I wrote when I was in fourth or fifth grade about an adventure I have in the middle east discovering the 67th book of the Bible. It's pretty funny to read it now. But as far as writing my own personal story, I hadn't thought much about it. I have certainly chronicled a lot of my story in songs, which are their own short stories. And I have shared my personal story dozens of times to children, teens, young adults and church congregations via speaking engagements. But I don't recall ever thinking, "You know, I should write a book about this." I can't say that I have the largest following for my music and my blogging as it is. It's been slow getting both off the ground since it's not my full time gig yet. I continue to plug away. But Andrew's encouragement really resonated with me. Someone of his stature reaching out to me to say that to me. He certainly didn't have to do it and it struck a chord deep within me. So I've decided to start working on it. A few weeks ago I sat down and essentially outlined the book and was shocked to find that I might just have too much material. So I don't know when or how, but I'm going to start writing it. Now when it gets finished is another matter. :) <br />
<br />
My story centers very much on the four fathers that I have had in my life and the profound influence they had on me both for good and for evil. As we approach Father's Day, I wanted to practice writing about this through my blog. The ideas will start here and I'll see where they go and grow from here. I could just about put a book together on my blog posts alone anyway, so I decided over the next few days to post a blog entry - five total - centered on the story of "My Four Fathers". This one is the introduction to the Father's Day blogging exercise; and then four others about Father #1, Father #2, Father #3, and Father #4. So here it goes. I hope that my story will strengthen and encourage you. At times it will be sad and difficult I think to read. It certainly will be to write. But it's true. It's real life. And ultimately it is joyful.<br />
<br />
Thanks for reading and following my music and my blog.<br />
<br />
Grace and Peace,<br />
Lance Brewer<br />
6/14/2011<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NzKQF-eJBbM/TfgKfDNBiqI/AAAAAAAAAS8/XjQhNfSF7_I/s1600/father-and-son.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NzKQF-eJBbM/TfgKfDNBiqI/AAAAAAAAAS8/XjQhNfSF7_I/s320/father-and-son.gif" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
</div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-24844277034201751602011-06-12T21:41:00.000-04:002011-06-12T21:41:50.258-04:00Negative Return<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Not so long ago at work me and some colleagues gathered around a computer monitor and we witnessed the live <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/multimedia/nasatv/index.html">lift off</a> of the space shuttle Endeavor as it embarked on its final mission to space. As I watched the countdown and lift off of the Endeavor something struck me as it continued to climb, leaving earth behind and making its way on its intended mission. At one point mission control said the following:</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mission Control to Endeavor: Negative Return</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Endeavor to Mission Control: Roger. Negative Return</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">As the mission continued the commentator on the video explained that this meant the Endeavor had reached a point where it could no longer return to the Kennedy Space Center. I was struck and fascinated by this phrase, "Negative Return". For the shuttle to return to where it came from would produce disastrous consequences. My mind immediately made a faith correlation best described in the Apostle Paul's epistle to the Colossians. In chapter 3, the first 17 verses read as follows (ESV),</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="chapter-num" id="v51003001-1" style="font-weight: bold; padding-right: 0.5em; vertical-align: text-top;">"1 </span>If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="verse-num" id="v51003002-1" style="font-weight: bold; padding-left: 0.25em; padding-right: 0.15em; vertical-align: text-top;">2 </span>Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="verse-num" id="v51003003-1" style="font-weight: bold; padding-left: 0.25em; padding-right: 0.15em; vertical-align: text-top;">3 </span>For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="verse-num" id="v51003004-1" style="font-weight: bold; padding-left: 0.25em; padding-right: 0.15em; vertical-align: text-top;">4 </span>When Christ who is your<span class="footnote" style="padding-left: 0em; padding-right: 0.5em; vertical-align: text-top;"> life</span> appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.<span class="verse-num" id="v51003005-1" style="font-weight: bold; padding-left: 0.25em; padding-right: 0.15em; vertical-align: text-top;">5 </span>Put to death therefore what is earthly in you:<span class="footnote" style="padding-left: 0em; padding-right: 0.5em; vertical-align: text-top;"> </span><span class="Apple-converted-space"></span>sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="verse-num" id="v51003006-1" style="font-weight: bold; padding-left: 0.25em; padding-right: 0.15em; vertical-align: text-top;">6 </span>On account of these the wrath of God is coming.<span class="footnote" style="padding-left: 0em; padding-right: 0.5em; vertical-align: text-top;"></span><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="verse-num" id="v51003007-1" style="font-weight: bold; padding-left: 0.25em; padding-right: 0.15em; vertical-align: text-top;">7 </span>In these you too once walked, when you were living in them.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="verse-num" id="v51003008-1" style="font-weight: bold; padding-left: 0.25em; padding-right: 0.15em; vertical-align: text-top;">8 </span>But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="verse-num" id="v51003009-1" style="font-weight: bold; padding-left: 0.25em; padding-right: 0.15em; vertical-align: text-top;">9 </span>Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self<span class="footnote" style="padding-left: 0em; padding-right: 0.5em; vertical-align: text-top;"> </span><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>with its practices<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="verse-num" id="v51003010-1" style="font-weight: bold; padding-left: 0.25em; padding-right: 0.15em; vertical-align: text-top;">10 </span>and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="verse-num" id="v51003011-1" style="font-weight: bold; padding-left: 0.25em; padding-right: 0.15em; vertical-align: text-top;">11 </span>Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave,<span class="footnote" style="padding-left: 0em; padding-right: 0.5em; vertical-align: text-top;"></span><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>free; but Christ is all, and in all. <span class="verse-num" id="v51003012-1" style="font-weight: bold; padding-left: 0.25em; padding-right: 0.15em; vertical-align: text-top;">12 </span>Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="verse-num" id="v51003013-1" style="font-weight: bold; padding-left: 0.25em; padding-right: 0.15em; vertical-align: text-top;">13 </span>bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="verse-num" id="v51003014-1" style="font-weight: bold; padding-left: 0.25em; padding-right: 0.15em; vertical-align: text-top;">14 </span>And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="verse-num" id="v51003015-1" style="font-weight: bold; padding-left: 0.25em; padding-right: 0.15em; vertical-align: text-top;">15 </span>And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="verse-num" id="v51003016-1" style="font-weight: bold; padding-left: 0.25em; padding-right: 0.15em; vertical-align: text-top;">16 </span>Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="verse-num" id="v51003017-1" style="font-weight: bold; padding-left: 0.25em; padding-right: 0.15em; vertical-align: text-top;">17 </span>And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him."</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">I love the phrasing in verses 1 and 2 about seeking those things that are from above and setting the mind on things above - and NOT on the earth. And as I read this passage and thought on the phrase "Negative Return" I came up with a simple diagram that is helping me as a Christian. Perhaps it will be helpful to you.</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">1. Deliverance - verse 1 - "If then you have been raised with Christ..." As a Christian I have been "raised with Christ" which speaks of being delivered. From what? So much! But specifically as it pertains to this passage - sin. In all its forms found in the earth. More on this below.</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">2. Direction - verse 1 again - "...seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God." As a Christian I have a certain direction that I should be focused on as one who has been delivered - and that direction is toward all things above - where Christ is!</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">3. Determination - verse 2 - "Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth." Just because, as a Christian, I have been delivered and I have a new direction doesn't mean it happens automatically. It takes purpose to pursue things above and not on this earth. It requires a "Negative Return" perspective. I can't go back. I am on a mission that is leading me out of this earth. But even determination isn't enough to accomplish this.</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">4. Death - verse 3 - "For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God." I think this perspective escapes the Christian far too often. I know it does me. I have died. To put it differently, as Corinthians does, I am a "new creation." And as a new creation I may be in the world, but not of it. I am in pursuit of something eternal. Old things are passed away and all things have become new. I must be dead to self.</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">5. Destination - verse 4 - "When Christ, who is your life appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory." There is so much here. My life is no longer my own. I have been bought with a price. Christ is now my life. He bought me with His life. Now He is my life. And I will have a destination with Him in glory forever. This changes everything while I am making my way from here to there.</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">6. Distinction - verses 5-9 - "Put to death therefore what is earthly in you..." As a Christian there are certain things that need to die in me. I cannot return to them. These are things that are distinctly of this earth:</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">* s</span><span style="font-size: small;">exual immorality</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* impurity</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* improper passion</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* evil desire</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* covetousness</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* idolatry</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* </span><span style="font-size: small;">anger</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* wrath</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* malice</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* slander</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* obscene talk</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* lying</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"> </div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"> <span style="font-size: small;">These are things that pertained to the old life and the old self. They are distinctly of this earth and I need a "Negative Return" perspective on these things. To return would produce disastrous consequences. And just as the list above is distinctly of this earth, the passage goes on to list things that are distinctly not of this earth but are things from above and are traits of God's chosen ones who are holy and beloved (verses 12-15):</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* </span><span style="font-size: small;">a compassionate heart</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* kindness</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* humility</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* meekness</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* patience</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* forgiving</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* loving </span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* peaceful </span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* thankful </span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* unified</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">* wise</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">The list is not exhaustive but these traits are indicative of one who has "put off" the things of the earth and "put on" the things of Heaven. So, daily, for me and for you, it all comes down to one thing:</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">7. Decision - verse 10-11, 16-17. Each day we must, "put on the new self" and be "renewed in knowledge..." We must resemble our Creator, Savior, and Lord. We must seek to be "free" - letting Christ be our "all." We must let the "Word of Christ dwell" in us "richly." We must sing, praise, and pray. And everything we do we must do "in the name of the Lord Jesus." When He is our Lord, and these things are true, and we decide to put off the things of the earth - never to return - and put on the things that are from above then we will know what it means to be Christian. And the world will know what it means to be Christian. And the world could use a little more of that as we try to make our way out of it.</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Peace.</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LuECF0Gu6LE/TfVqyU1-xjI/AAAAAAAAAS4/HkTHcZVYiYA/s1600/STS227NegativeReturn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LuECF0Gu6LE/TfVqyU1-xjI/AAAAAAAAAS4/HkTHcZVYiYA/s320/STS227NegativeReturn.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"> <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"> <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div></div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-31251291195434647522011-05-22T14:32:00.000-04:002011-05-22T14:32:32.486-04:00One Of Those Days<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">We've all had them. Bad days. Sometimes those bad days are a culmination of a lot of little things going wrong and we get annoyed and frustrated. Burnt toast. No coffee. The first scratch on the new car. A sick pet. Rain, rain, and more rain. Overworked and under-appreciated on the job. You name it. "Momma said there'd be days like this." And, of course, momma is always right. Sometimes, though, we have bad days because of something big and devastating and possibly unexpected that comes our way. A solemn medical diagnosis. Loss of a job. Loss of a friend or loved one. An accident. A home that burns to the ground. We've all been there in our own way. Little annoyances are one thing but the big tragedies are quite another thing altogether. They mark us. We withdraw. We mourn. We suffer. And sometimes we stay there. Too long. What now?<br />
<br />
This morning I was reading Matthew 14. The first 12 verses talk in great detail about the death of John the Baptist. John was an amazing man of God. Jesus said that John was the greatest of all men ever born! He was the forerunner of Christ, preparing the way for the earthly ministry of Jesus. He was extremely well-known and considered a prophet. He was a powerful man who wore animal skins and ate locusts and honey. He drew crowds everywhere he went and baptized many, many people - even Jesus. And he was not afraid to speak the truth - even to the rulers of his day. And this, ultimately, got him killed. Beheaded, in fact. First, a little background. When Herod the Great died, he divided his kingdom among three of his sons - Archelaus, Antipas, and Philip II. Later, Herod the Great's fourth son, Herod Antipas, was made a tetrarch - a ruler of the fourth part of the kingdom. So he was the Roman ruler over the region where John the Baptist and Jesus ministered which included Galilee. While John was alive he publicly condemned Herod Antipas for falling in love with Herodias, who was the wife of his half brother Herod Philip I. Herod Antipas was also married. Herodias divorced her husband and Herod Antipas divorced his wife so they could be together and it was this union that John the Baptist denounced. He was imprisoned for this at the fortress-palace of Machaerus. While imprisoned Herod Antipas threw a birthday party for himself at his fortress-palace. Herodias had her daughter, Salome, dance for Herod Antipas. Salome was his step-daughter. She was most likely 12 years old and the dance, according to custom, was sensual in nature. He was very pleased with the dance, and Herodias used this opportunity to have her bewitched husband fulfill the oath he swore to Salome. You see, Herod swore that he would give her anything that she asked. So Herodias had Salome request the head of John the Baptist, who had spoken out against them. Verse 9 says the king was sorry, but "because of his oaths and his guests he commanded it (the head of John the Baptist) to be given." And so it was, on a platter, given to the girl, who then gave it to her mother. John the Baptist's body was discarded and the disciples came and took the body and buried it. After doing so they went to find Jesus and told Him what had happened. The response of Jesus is something to behold. Verse 13 says,<br />
<br />
"Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a desolate place by himself."<br />
<br />
Jesus just wanted to be alone. This event marked Him. Jesus and John were close. I find it remarkable how Jesus was affected by the beheading of John the Baptist, whom He loved. He withdraws and goes to a desolate place. No doubt He is in mourning. He is sorrowing, alone, for the death of his friend. Naturally this event did not catch Him by surprise, for He is the Son of God! But we see His humanity in such a profound way here. But it's important to notice what's going on here. Something has happened in His life. A circumstance has arisen that may not have caught Him unaware, but it certainly did the disciples and the many followers of John and Jesus. But Jesus doesn't stay here. In fact, multitudes seek him out. They follow from the town. Everyone knows what has happened and they look for Jesus. Jesus has His time alone - which is important. But He goes ashore, where there is a great crowd awaiting Him. And some amazing things begin to happen. Jesus, even though hurting, sees the crowd and He has "compassion on them". And he heals their sick. This He does for a while. Evening sets in and the disciples essentially say - "it's been one of those days, Jesus. Send these people away and let's go eat." But Jesus says, "They need not go away; you give them something to eat." The disciples take inventory and there is little food available - five loaves and two fish. Hardly enough to feed a crowd of this size - five thousand, plus woman and children. This crowd could have easily been twenty thousand. Jesus tells them to bring the food. He looks up to Heaven, prays, and breaks it up, miraculously multiplies it, and distributes it to the disciples for the crowds. Everyone eats. Everyone is satisfied. And there are twelve baskets full of food left over. What a miracle! This is perhaps the most well-known miracle that Jesus performed. In fact, it is the only miracle recorded in all four Gospels. But what I had forgotten when I read the account of this miracle this morning in my quiet time was what preceded this miracle. Jesus is grieving to be sure. Yet, He doesn't stay there. He finds consolation in His pain when He considers those around Him in such great need. And He does so with compassion. What a lesson is here.<br />
<br />
Too often when we get blind-sided by circumstances we miss out on or delay the healing that is available to us. There is healing in helping. There is healing when we consider those around us who are hurting just as we are. And we have something to offer them! We have a Lord and Savior who is a "man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." Jesus understands pain. Consider Him here, at first withdrawn, by Himself, in a boat on a lake trying to find a desolate place. He cares! He gets it. This blew me away this morning as I read this. But not just that He understands pain. But He understands our pain. He understand the pain of others. What an example for us. When we find ourselves in pain, grieving over some loss that marks us and causes us to withdraw - yes, we must come away for a little while, but we must go back to the shore and see those around us who have their own pain. And we must have compassion. I believe their is healing in helping the hurting.<br />
<br />
We will find consolation for our suffering when we consider others with compassion, knowing they are suffering too.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SpbVdloV9zo/TdlUR7j2uFI/AAAAAAAAAS0/_fbZ-6X5Wtg/s1600/img_compassion365b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SpbVdloV9zo/TdlUR7j2uFI/AAAAAAAAAS0/_fbZ-6X5Wtg/s320/img_compassion365b.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<br />
</div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-64047954098378696002011-05-08T19:09:00.002-04:002011-05-08T22:01:17.562-04:00Book Review: The Sword of the Lord: The Roots of Fundamentalism in an American Family<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lYy5_PfD054/TccgO2kH_MI/AAAAAAAAASw/ftvnYKgGRto/s1600/sotl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lYy5_PfD054/TccgO2kH_MI/AAAAAAAAASw/ftvnYKgGRto/s320/sotl.jpg" width="219" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I first heard about <a href="http://andrewhimes.net/">Andrew Himes</a> while reading a guest blog <a href="http://www.jesusneedsnewpr.net/a-guest-post-my-great-grandfather-was-the-godfather-of-christian-fundamentalism-by-jstephenlamb/">post</a> by Stephen Lamb on Matthew Paul Turner’s blog <a href="http://www.jesusneedsnewpr.net/">Jesus Needs New PR</a>. Stephen is Andrew’s nephew and they both share an incredible story. They are both related to the legendary fundamentalist Christian, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_R._Rice">John R. Rice</a>. Andrew is the grandson of Dr. Rice and Stephen is Dr. Rice's great grandson. In the blog Stephen highlights his uncle’s book, <a href="http://swordofthelordbook.com/">"The Sword of the Lord: The Roots of Fundamentalism in an American Family"</a>. The blog post immediately captured my attention because John R. Rice was a hero to me and my family. I gave just over 20 years of my life to the fundamentalist movement – specifically to the Independent Fundamental Baptist (IFB) denomination. I was a member of one of the world’s most prominent IFB churches. I ultimately served full-time in the same church for a number of years after training in an IFB college. You could not and cannot go anywhere within IFB circles without knowing intimately about Dr. Rice and his impact on the fundamentalist movement in America. He was the face of fundamentalism for decades. I can recall handing out hundreds of his Gospel tracts as a teenager, and reading dozens of his books and listening to many audio tapes of his messages. I also devoured each weekly edition of the Sword of the Lord – the historic fundamentalist newspaper that Dr. Rice started decades ago. As a teenager I went nearly every summer to the Bill Rice Ranch in Murfreesboro, TN with my church youth group. So when I read that Andrew had written this book and Stephen presented the opportunity to read an advanced copy and write a review about it, I did not hesitate to submit for this opportunity. I am so grateful that I did and that I was allowed to do so. I confess when I received the book I wasn’t quite sure what I would be reading. I understood that he was going to be telling a family history of fundamentalism, being related so closely to Dr. Rice. But I also understood that fundamentalist Christianity can be an extremely controversial topic. It would be easy to write from an extreme position for or against the movement, which continues today. But as I began to read the book I was blown away by a number of things which I will chronicle further below as my review.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When I read a book there are several things that I look for that are extremely important to me:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Is it compelling? I look for a compelling reason to read it – something that speaks to me and draws me in – giving me a reason to give my time to it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">D</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">oes it have clarity? I look for clarity – which to me is about the quality of communication or the writing style of the author. I have a fairly short attention span so it needs to arrest my attention from word one.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">What is the content? I look for content – is it a fluff piece or does it have substance - something significant that needs to be said?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">What is the character of the book? Is it heavy-handed or uneven in its approach? Is it one-sided? Is it vitriolic and acidic toward another point of view (which can be an easy thing to do on the subject of fundamentalism)? Or is it fair, balanced, and kind?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">What is the conclusion of the book? What is the point the author is trying to get across to me?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">First, is this book compelling? As you may have gathered by my introduction, the book was extremely compelling to me because of my history with fundamentalism and my intimate knowledge of Dr. John R. Rice. However, whether you are currently in the movement or have been in the movement you will want to read this book. If you’re considering being a part of the movement as it exists today you will want to read this book. If you are only vaguely familiar with fundamentalism or the IFB denomination, whether through 20/20 segments on TV or you have a neighbor or a relative in the movement you will want to read this book. Simply put, fundamentalism has touched almost all of our lives – in good ways and in bad ways. It’s a very real aspect to American history and to our society today and there is much to learn from Andrew in this book. As much as I knew about the movement from first-hand experience I learned an incredible amount of new information that I simply did not know before – about Dr. Rice and the Rice family going back generations and about fundamentalism throughout the course of our nation’s history. Saying that the book is a compelling read is an understatement.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Second, does the book have clarity? As a writer, this is an extremely important point to consider. Someone can have a lot to write about, but if they are not able to do so in a way that is engaging and readily accessible to the reader then it becomes tedious and monotonous and the book is in danger of becoming a door stop or a donation to Goodwill. This book was extremely easy to read. It is full of facts and figures and steeped in history and I found it hard to put down. It was not laborious to read at all. On the contrary it was enjoyable and articulate and a great tribute to Andrew’s writing abilities. There are very few authors I would say that I would buy and read anything that they write, but I happily add Andrew to that short list of authors for me.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Third, what is the content of the book? This may seem an odd question considering the name of the book, "The Sword of the Lord: The Roots of Fundamentalism in an American Family". Obviously it’s about Andrew’s family history – specifically as it pertains to fundamentalism, going back generations even to his family’s Scots-Irish heritage and migration to America. Obviously it focuses rather intently and comprehensively on the fundamentalist Christian movement in America from the very beginning. But there is so much more than that. There is his story – which is compelling enough on its own. I love to hear anyone’s story. The very fabric of our stories has an intimate quality to it that can touch anyone anywhere. Our stories are real life and everyone has a story and they are all worth telling and reading. I learned so much from Andrew’s personal journey. But there is also an incredible amount of history on a variety of topics: the Civil War, the Lost Cause, the Southern Reconstruction era, the Ku Klux Klan, the Civil Rights Movement, the American Indian Trail of Tears, the Scopes Monkey Trial, and so much more. There is a wealth of well-researched historical material in this book that is so intertwined with the religious history of America. If you love history in general or historical perspectives on any of the topics mentioned in this paragraph, you will not be disappointed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Fourth, what is the character of the book? As much as I have written positively in the preceding three paragraphs concerning Andrew’s book, it is these last two paragraphs that mean the most to me. I was humbled and honored to read a book with potentially controversial subject matter that was written with such passion and compassion. Andrew never side-steps any controversy, but in his address of any issue of disagreement that he wrote about concerning the movement and his families involvement in the movement he does so with kindness while clinging to his beliefs. That is a very difficult thing to do when something is so personal to you and has marked your life at times in profoundly negative and disappointing ways. I have had to learn this in my own life from many of my own experiences with fundamentalism. And lest it appear from this paragraph that there is a lot of negativity about the movement in the book, I assure you there is not. There is balance. He is quick to note and applaud much good that he has seen in the movement and in his family’s involvement with it. My hat is off to him for helping to reinforce to me the need to be kind even while speaking the honest truth. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Fifth, what is the conclusion of the book? What is the point? In my words I would say the book caused me to consider the following for myself: Do I love my theological framework and those who espouse it more than I do the two great commandments? If my theology isn't an outflow of my love for God and if it doesn't cause me to love my neighbor then it is nothing more than knowledge that lacks the heartbeat of God. Tim Keller puts it this way, “When the world sees us doing evangelism, they just see us recruiting. When they see us doing justice, they see God's glory.” There was a point and time where I would have disagreed with such statements – “we must win souls at any cost!”, but thankfully those days are behind me. Not that the Gospel means any less to me. Rather, the Gospel means so much more to me. The Gospel must have a holistic approach – soul, heart, mind, body, and spirit. But the best way I could write about the conclusions I took from this book would be to quote Andrew Himes. The ending of his book summed it up so well for me. I will quote a portion now (spoiler alert!). "Following Jesus...requires much more than orthodoxy or platitudes about love. It requires orthopraxy: placing Christ's incarnation of love and justice at the center of your life and Christian practice..." Amen! He also writes, "...here is what I have learned from my post-fundamentalist family: Honor truth. Love well. Live your faith..." Indeed. And now he is passing that on and may God use this book in the lives of so many people for their good and God’s glory. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When I first requested an advanced copy of the book to read and review, I was asked to write the reasons why I wanted to do so. Unintentionally I wrote at length about my reasons, which flowed from a deep place in my heart and which centered heavily on my own past experiences from within fundamentalism. He was very kind in his reply, stating he shared much of my thinking and that he looked forward to hearing my reflections with much interest. Well, Andrew, this is my review, and I’m privileged to say in return – I share much of your thinking as well. And hopefully others will as a result of this tremendous book. Well done and God bless. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Now, reader, please go and buy this book. In fact, buy two and give one away as a gift. It is well worth it. You may do so by visiting <a href="http://amazon.com/">Amazon.com</a> today. And one final word for all you bloggers out there, Andrew has asked for me to pass along that you can apply for a free review copy of his book by visiting <a href="http://swordofthelordbook.com/civicrm/profile/create?gid=10&reset=1">here</a>. </span><a href="http://swordofthelordbook.com/civicrm/profile/create?gid=10&reset=1" target="_blank"><br />
</a></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Grace and Peace,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Lance Brewer </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> 5/8/2011</span></div></div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-14605493391827813272011-04-24T20:30:00.000-04:002011-04-24T20:30:34.801-04:00Fear and Great Joy: An Easter Story<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">On Good Friday at our church we were able to go and quietly observe the 12 stations of the cross. It was a humbling, worshipful, and joyful experience for Erin and I. As we walked through each station several things jumped out at me from the various scripture verses we read at each station. But at the last station something in particular stood out to me in a powerful way as I read through Matthew 28:1-10 which is Matthew's rendering of the Resurrection. I will focus more on that below, but first the reading (from the ESV):</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Matthew 28</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<h5><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The Resurrection</span></h5><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> <sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-24193" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: text-top;">1</sup> Now after the Sabbath, toward the dawn of the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. <sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-24194" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: text-top;">2</sup>And behold, there was a great earthquake, for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. <sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-24195" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: text-top;">3</sup> His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. <sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-24196" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: text-top;">4</sup>And for fear of him the guards trembled and became like dead men. <sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-24197" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: text-top;">5</sup>But the angel said to the women, "Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. <sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-24198" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: text-top;">6</sup>He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. <sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-24199" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: text-top;">7</sup>Then go quickly and tell his disciples that he has risen from the dead, and behold, he is going before you to Galilee; there you will see him. See, I have told you." <sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-24200" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: text-top;">8</sup>So they departed quickly from the tomb with <b>fear and great joy</b>, and ran to tell his disciples. <sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-24201" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: text-top;">9</sup>And behold, Jesus met them and said,<span class="woj">"Greetings!"</span> And they came up and took hold of his feet and worshiped him.<sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-24202" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: text-top;">10</sup>Then Jesus said to them, <span class="woj">"Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee, and there they will see me."</span></span><br />
<span class="woj" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="woj">As I read the passage I was struck by the phrase "fear and great joy". Mary Magdalene and the other Mary (the mother of James and Joseph) have arrived at the tomb where Jesus was placed after His crucifixion. Without question these were anxious and heartbreaking moments for them. Jesus (whom they love) has days before gone through the most ultimate betrayal, suffering, and death ever recorded in human history. They arrive at the tomb no doubt with questions and fears. When they arrive the tomb is still sealed which must have been devastating for them to see. Had He not promised that in three days He would rise again? They had that hope, but they had that fear. Then something amazing happens - a great earthquake caused by the descent of an angel of the Lord, who proceeds to roll back the stone covering the tomb - causing the guards watching the tomb to tremble and become like dead men. The women too were afraid. Imagine the scene! Then, the angel of the Lord speaks! </span>"Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. <sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-24198" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: text-top;">6</sup>He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay." These faithful followers of Jesus were the first witnesses of the greatest event recorded in human history - the Resurrection of Jesus Christ! The angel of the Lord then charges them to go and tell the disciples of Jesus that He is risen and will see them in Galilee. And this they do, but the text says something extraordinary about the moment - "they departed quickly from the tomb with <b>fear and great joy</b>, and ran to tell his disciples." Fear and great joy. What a combination. One would think that the two could not be found at the same time, but that's not true. In 2 Timothy 1:7 the Bible says, "God has not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind". God does not give us fear. But God gives us joy. Fear is human. Joy is divine. And in this most historic moment of all time we find both Mary's are experiencing fear AND joy - great joy. And that spoke to me. Consider why they would fear:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">1) Until this moment Jesus was dead - an absolute heartbreak for these women</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">2) They had witnessed one of their own betray Him</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">3) They had witnessed just about everyone else who followed Him flee from Him</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">4) They had witnessed his ultimate suffering and crucifixion</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">5) They must have felt very much alone and uncertain at this moment in their life</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">6) It was not a good time to be a follower of Jesus - even after His death</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">7) There were soldiers at the tomb</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">8) There was a great earthquake</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">9) An angel of the Lord appeared, rolled back the stone covering the entrance of the tomb, and spoke to them</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">10) In historical context, they were women. Women were woefully treated in society and they have just witnessed the most amazing event of all time - given a charge to go and tell the disciples of the news. What would the disciples - or anyone else for that matter - even say to this?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">That's a short list, but it's plenty to ponder. Read each of these carefully, placing yourself in this moment in history. Imagine how profoundly horrible and fearful it would have been to live in this time. I can't imagine the fear they must have had, but I understand why they would have fear. But now they have just received and witnessed the Resurrection! Talk about a lot to process at one time. It is no wonder they had fear - and great joy! And I love that. In our own lives we have fear. It's natural. We live in tough times in this country. People are losing their jobs all around us. But it's nothing compared to the suffering of the rest of the world. We all have loved ones who are sick. Maybe you're sick. Perhaps death is a real possibility for you or someone you love. Maybe we have friends or family who are far off and living lives filled with hopelessness. And we wonder how they will be reached? I can think of several families who are working through tremendous marital problems, some have even lost their marriage. Finances, health, death, suffering, abandonment - the list can be long. We all have fear. But that's not the end of it all. For the Christian we have something more powerful than our fear. More powerful than anything, and it's what we went to church to celebrate today - we have a risen Savior and Lord. We have the Resurrection. And this fact separates Christianity from all other belief systems in the world. Because of the Resurrection, we have hope. We have faith. We have - great joy! And no matter how our world gets turned upside down - no matter the fear that comes our way - our joy is greater than our fear because we lay hold of the Resurrection. And that is what we must ever hold before us. We must live a life that reflects what the Resurrection has done for us. If we allow our fear to be bigger than the Resurrection, then what does that say to those who have no hope? It's OK to have fear to a certain extent, because we are humans. But we have the Resurrection therefore we have great joy! And that should be the attitude that marks our life as Christians. So if you have fear today, lay hold of Resurrection power for He is alive. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Now lets' get up, go, and tell someone just like these amazing women did. Behold Him! Take hold of His feet as they did! Worship Him! See He is risen! Do not stay in your fear! Go and tell everyone that He is alive and God-willing they will see Him! May we all live in the power of the Resurrection and with the great joy that it produces!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Grace and Peace.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dNi2hVHLjcQ/TbTAaMZwuRI/AAAAAAAAASs/yB3jk6fyutI/s1600/empty-tomb1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dNi2hVHLjcQ/TbTAaMZwuRI/AAAAAAAAASs/yB3jk6fyutI/s320/empty-tomb1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div></div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-3122420938505657032011-04-13T10:08:00.000-04:002011-04-13T10:08:33.141-04:00trouble enough<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">trouble enough for this day</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">to worry about tomorrow</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">trouble enough for this day</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">so why would i borrow</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">from the time that's here and now</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">as i think about</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">something that hasn't happened yet</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">and then i can't go back</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">and i'm filled with deep regret and sorrow</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">cause there's</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">trouble enough for this day</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">to worry about tomorrow</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">so don't worry about tomorrow</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">live today</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">in the moment</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">don't let it slip away</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">live right now</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">redeem the time</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">that's the only way</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">so i say</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">(there's)</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">trouble enough for this day</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">to worry about tomorrow</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">trouble enough for this day</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">so why would i borrow</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">from the time that's here and now</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">as i think about</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">something that hasn't happened yet</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">and then i can't go back</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">and i'm filled with deep regret and sorrow</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">cause there's</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">trouble enough for this day</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">to worry about tomorrow</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">so don't worry about tomorrow"</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">from matthew 6:34</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">copyright lance brewer music 2011</span></div><div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-krw_4TVdd0Y/TaWuFEF6f9I/AAAAAAAAASo/FnBPtEEnlIE/s1600/solitude.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-krw_4TVdd0Y/TaWuFEF6f9I/AAAAAAAAASo/FnBPtEEnlIE/s320/solitude.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div></span></div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-24599188930515354442011-04-10T22:51:00.000-04:002011-04-10T22:51:19.801-04:00Losing Things<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">We've all done it and we'll do it again. We lose things. Big things. Small things. Seemingly insignificant things. Truly meaningful things. But it happens. Losing things is a fact of life. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">A recent survey found that the most common things lost are (some humorous; some not so much):</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Your date's name</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Eyeglasses</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Pet</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">House keys</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Car keys</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Wallet</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Personal indentity</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Your mind</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Wedding ring</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Credit card</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Passport</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Money</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Driver's license</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Car registration</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Cell Phone</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Children</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Travelers checks</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Clothing</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Luggage</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Library books</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Virginity</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Homework</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Video rentals</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Someone's birthday/anniversary</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Umbrella</span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">This past winter something amazing happened at the Brewer household involving my wife. Let me preface the story I'm about to tell by saying - my wife is the smartest person that I know. Not only that - she remembers everything. She has a mind like a trap. But this past winter we experienced something highly unusual. Not once. Not twice. But three times. My wife lost three pair of gloves. Nice gloves. Gloves that she loved. The first time happened somewhere in Yellow Springs just before Christmas. We have a tradition where we go up and shop at the unique stores up there. Then we go to dinner at the Winds which is expensive but well-worth it. Next we drive through a neighborhood united by their competition of who has the best Christmas lights - with our car lights off (which sounds crazy, but it's amazing and there's plenty of lights to help us see). After we do that we go to (or drive by) the Clifton Mill on full, festive, breathtaking display. And at the end of it all we finish at Young's Dairy for dessert before heading home. Somewhere along the way during that trip my wife lost her favorite pair of gloves. She was really sad about it because she loved those gloves. She called around up there and asked if anyone had found a pair of gloves but to no avail. They were lost. Well, almost. A few days later she found one of the gloves underneath the passenger seat of my SUV (which we took to Yellow Springs). But that almost made it worse - to have one glove but not a complete pair. I wanted to make her feel better so I offered to buy her an identical pair. So we went to Target but by this time the gloves were well worked through and we did not find the same exact pair. But we found a pair by the same label that were just as nice. Shortly thereafter, you guessed it, that pair of gloves turns up missing. Lost. As of this writing I don't remember the circumstance; I just remember that she now has two pair of gloves lost. Now not only is she sad about losing a second pair, but she begins to wonder is she's losing her mind. I offered to buy a third pair but she said she would just wear an older pair that she's had for years just in case she loses them too. And guess what? Yea, she lost that pair too. I assured her that there was nothing wrong with her. These things happen and they would most likely turn up. In the case of the last pair, they did in fact show up which made her feel better that she wasn't losing her mind! But it was quite the ordeal throughout winter. She hated losing each pair of gloves. And she kept wondering why? We lose things. It's that simple. Or is it? What if what she had lost had some significance or value? What if it was irreplaceable? I've lost something like that. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">At the time I don't remember doing anything foolish. Looking back I realize I just wasn't focused. Aware. And a simple decision cost me something very dear to me. Something that even as I write this post still makes my heart hurt. My real father died of his own hand when I was 15 months old which has marked my life in so many ways. As I grew up and learned more about him from my mom, my older sister, and my grandparents I began to want to know him in some tangible way even though I knew I would never physically know him. One of the ways this has happened for me is through stories and memories passed down. However, another way was by having the privilege of inheriting a lot of his personal belongings - wallet, watches, photos, dog tags, the flag from his military funeral, bowling trophies, pens, papers, etc. But perhaps the most prized possession that I was given was his class ring from Xenia High School. I wore that every day of my life from when I was a teenager when my mom gave it to me until I was in my late 20's when something horrible happened: I lost the ring. As near as I can tell it happened at a farm in Blanchester where the church I was serving in at the time was hosting a big youth event. The highlight of the event was inviting the local football team to the event to play a football game with us in the hopes of having a chance to minister to them. If I remember correctly the team was state champs that year. It was a youth/youth worker team against the football team and it was a blast. I honestly don't remember who won, but I remember playing quarterback for our team and throwing a no-look touchdown pass that totally blew their mind, because they were looking at my eyes. In the huddle I told my guy to go to a spot in the end zone and I would look off of him but still throw it his way. I knew looking away would draw the defense away from the target, and it worked like a charm. Obviously I was pretty proud of that moment, but less proud of another moment. A moment that seemed insignificant. But it was the moment before the game when I took off the ring. I did take off the ring. But I could not remember where I put it down. I looked high and low, but it was not to be found. And if it fell somewhere in that maze of corn fields and high grass there was no way it was going to be found. Had I put a little more thought into that decision - had I just placed a little bit more value on that heirloom - I wouldn't have lost it. I would have made sure where I placed it so as not to lose it. But I was in a hurry to be the hero in a game that didn't matter. And I lost something that I will never get back. And I will most likely take that heartache and regret to my grave. I feel like I dishonored my dad by not valuing that remnant of his existence passed on to me for safekeeping. I periodically look at web sites where people post that they've found class rings, but I have no hope of ever seeing that ring again. Perhaps God in His grace and His delight in small mercies will see fit to surprise me someday with a seemingly impossible reunion with something most precious to me. But for a moment it was not precious enough.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">As I've thought about that (and I've thought about it a lot over the years) if there's any good that came out of it it would certainly be the life-lessons that I've learned as a result of that choice. And it's caused me to value things more. It's caused me to be more cognizant of my choices - even the seemingly insignificant ones. But especially the big ones. And it's made me realize that there are so many things in life that we can lose without much effort at all. And I'm not just talking about your everyday, common place items like some of those listed above. But bigger things. Essential things. Important things. Here's a short list:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">1. We can lose time. Whether by losing track of time or simply wasting it - time can get away from us. Time is always fleeting and we can never get it back. Steve Miller says, "Time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping into the future." But it's also slipping, slipping, slipping into the past and we can't get it back. We must make the most of it. Ephesians 5:16 says to, "...make the most use of our time because the days are evil." Time is a terrible thing to lose.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">2. We can lose our temper. Anger seems to be everywhere. Just drive down the street and see how many people drive as if they'd like nothing more than to run you over. We are a nation of angry people. And anymore it seems like secular people equate anger with religious people. Why is it that one's religion would make them angry? As far as the Christian faith goes, that certainly is not a teaching of Christ and you only see Him angry at the religious leaders of His day. The Bible does say that there is a time and place for righteous anger, and that a believer can be angry and not sin. But anger should not be a constant for the Christian. And you will not find it listed among what the Bible calls the fruits of the Spirit - love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, and meekness. How refreshing it would be if we could lose the ability to lose our temper. I just read this quote from John Piper, and it meant a great deal to me, "Use the same eye-gouging, hand-amputating force against the lust for anger as you do against the lust for sex." Powerful.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"></span>3. We can lose our mind. I don't necessarily mean this in the literal medical sense (although that may happen in God's providence). But I'm talking about the space in our mind that we can't get back where we put things that we can never forget. This could be a sad and painful place of regret from bad choices - either ours or others choices that have affected us. It could be related to something impure that we put in our minds. But whatever we put in our minds will most likely stay there. So we must take care to value what we put in our minds. Because it's hard to get that space back once it's occupied - especially with the wrong things. Thankfully Roman's 12:2 speaks of being able to have our minds renewed, but even a renewed mind can be affected by bad choices. We need to be careful what we put in our minds.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">4. We can lose our purity. Have you ever heard the phrase, "so-and-so has fallen into sin" as if he or she was just walking blissfully along in the splendor of purity and some great abyss of wickedness swallowed them whole from out of no where. I do not hold to that mentality. It's more of a process. I doubt it's so sudden. We lose a little here and there until sin chips away at us to such an extent that it is no longer a private matter, but a public disgrace. Unfortunately somewhere along the way the concept of purity has become a silly thing in our Hollywood-saturated culture. But there is nothing more beautiful than purity. Thankfully when God sees us He sees the purity of Christ, but that does not give us license to be impure and abusers of God's Grace. I love Proverbs 22:11, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">"</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">He who loves purity of heart,and whose speech is gracious, will have the king as his friend." You can't beat that.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">5. We can lose out testimony. I once heard someone describe one's testimony as a barn. It takes a lot of labor and time to fill it up, but only a spark to set it ablaze and burn it immediately to the ground. We must guard our testimony.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">6. We can lose our way. Lose faith. Heart. Confidence. Direction. All of these seem to fall into the same category to me maybe with slight variations. It's OK to question. To doubt. But we can't stay there. I follow a Christian author and blogger that I like but sometimes disagree with, and he almost daily writes about doubting. Sometimes it's difficult to read because there is more to faith than doubt. At some point we have to have affirmation and belief. To me having faith is nothing more than trusting God. Someone once said, "When you can't trace His hand trust His heart." I love that. At times we don't know which way to go. But it's at those very moments that we need to stop. "Be still," as Psalm 46 says, "and know that I am God." It's easier to know God once you know that He is God. The Great I AM. He can take us through anything and, as Psalm 46 concludes, "He will be exalted."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The above list is by no means exhaustive, but hopefully helpful. Life is the sum total of all our choices. We can't waste a choice. Each choice is significant. Each choice has a consequence - good or bad. And when we lose something it all goes back to a choice - even if it's a subconscious one that we have little to no awareness of in the moment. But even a choice like that can produce consequences that last for time and maybe even eternity. I hate losing things. Especially things that matter.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Peace.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hqCsECTlFgY/TaJpfnAWMyI/AAAAAAAAASk/K__h4oqUmEE/s1600/losing+things.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hqCsECTlFgY/TaJpfnAWMyI/AAAAAAAAASk/K__h4oqUmEE/s320/losing+things.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div></div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-18595789807862824202011-02-03T20:49:00.000-05:002011-02-03T20:49:23.737-05:00What Will You Leave Behind?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Death and taxes - it's been said that those are the only guarantees in life. Truth is, death is a certainty. Unless, of course, Christ decides enough is enough and returns before death can sting us. But if we do draw our last breath here, what will we leave behind? What type of legacy will we pass on? Some of us have a broad reach. Some of us a shorter reach, but no less significant. Your legacy may be to pour into your children, and perhaps they will grow up to have a broad reach that affects millions through some calling, gift, or talent. But it started with a father or a mother whose reach seemed small, but was indeed great in the long run. We shouldn't compare ourselves among ourselves. It is indeed unwise. But we should all look to discover what it is that God has blessed us with or called us to do, and make the most of it today so that tomorrow we won't be filled with regret - asking ourselves, "I wonder what might have been...?" And we shouldn't keep it to ourselves.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://tv.gawker.com/#!5726565/genius-mary-poppins+esque-photographer-discovered-post-mortem">I recently read the amazing story of a lady named Vivian Maier.</a> She was a nanny in Chicago in the 50's and 60's. She never married and lived a very unassuming life. Nobody would have ever known there was anything special and unique about Vivian if they hadn't discovered boxes and boxes of over 30,000 film negatives upon her death. And what a discovery it is turning out to be. Even though she never lived to see it, she is now being heralded as one of the greatest - if not the greatest - street photographer ever. If you don't know what street photography is, you're missing out. This type of photography captures real life moments - nothing staged or fake. Yet they are moments that will take your breath away - a child laughing while they splash in a puddle or an elderly woman staring deeply back at you. They could be beautiful, melancholy, dark, simple - but all true life stills. They are pictures of life captured often without the object of the photo even knowing. Her work is astonishing, and experts are just beginning to understand the scope of her work - which is second to none. This was her hidden hobby - her personal passion. It's just something she did, but because of her reclusive lifestyle nobody ever knew about this talent - what she was really great at. Even now a man named John Maloof is going through the tedious task of digitizing all of her photos, with the goal of making her work available to the public via print media and gallery displays. He is the 26 year old Chicago real estate agent who "discovered" her when he purchased the contents of a repossessed storage locker that belonged to the by then deceased Vivian Maier. What started out as the surprise find of a lifetime chronicled in his blog has turned into a life-altering venture of introducing the world to Vivian's art. A company called <a href="http://www.kickstarter.com/">Kickstarter</a> is gathering funds to tell her story in documentary form - <a href="http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/800508197/finding-vivian-maier-a-feature-length-documentary?ref=live">"Finding Vivian Maier"</a>. I look forward to its release.<br />
<br />
Vivian died at 83 in 2009 never knowing that her secret life's work is now amazing the world. I think this is both incredible and sad. Incredible to have such a gift and passion that can be weighed and measured - with the capability of benefiting and inspiring millions; but sad that no one knew this while she was alive. Just think if she had shared this with the world while she was alive! Who knows why she lived her whole life with no one knowing her and knowing this about her, but what a legacy she has left! Just think how much greater that legacy could have been had she shared this gift out loud. Or maybe she didn't have the support or encouragement she needed and therefore, she alone knew of her gift and passion. But I think the lesson here for all of us is to embrace the gift of life that God has given us, and with that gift pursue what He has put within us to do. A calling. A talent. A passion. Share it. Live it. Love it. Don't settle. Don't compromise. Don't hide it. Don't be ashamed or fearful. Take a risk. Step out in faith. If there are obstacles in the way, by God's grace and persistence - overcome them and use them as stepping stones to get to the next level. And once there, really live joyfully and peacefully - knowing that you are doing what God gave you to do. It may take time, but don't give up, and don't hide away. While there is a happy ending to this story that will live on forever, it is sad to think that, even though she created such amazing art, no one knew while she was alive. No one really knew her. Find what it is God has blessed you with, and share it, and leave behind a legacy - not to be accidentally discovered, but a legacy left on purpose. Something you knowingly built during your life that will live on even after you are gone, and, in the words of Russell Crowe's character in Gladiator, something that will "echo in eternity." What legacy are you working on building even now in your life, for your family, your friends, your community, your church, your country, your world? I know I was challenged by this story of Vivian Maier. I hope you are too. And I hope you get to check out her amazing work! Peace.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TUtY_J9jcqI/AAAAAAAAASc/V92A13Frm8U/s1600/vivian.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="172" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TUtY_J9jcqI/AAAAAAAAASc/V92A13Frm8U/s320/vivian.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-90397805124452923502010-11-18T17:49:00.000-05:002010-11-18T17:49:42.732-05:00How Would You Like To Have This Guys Job?I mean, the TSA guys one hand is on the other guys love handle, and his other hand is, well...just look at his face (pic below). He's thinking, "Why did I quite my last job?" I'm just really glad he's not grinning like an idiot. But that is funny right there - unless you're the other guy. What's even better is <a href="http://paul.house.gov/">Ron Paul's</a> legislation that he submitted submitted before the house which would require all political figures to be subjected to this type of treatment at the airport, photographed, videotaped, along with the full body scan treatment - all made available to the same public that is already required to go through this crap. In Ron's words, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-N5adYM7Kw">"Enough is enough!"</a> Man, I love that guy. Ron Paul, that is. Not the groping goof ball below. In the immortal words of Earl Pitts, "Wake up, America!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TOWsVtW9GmI/AAAAAAAAASQ/8lNVXtim0TI/s1600/tsa3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TOWsVtW9GmI/AAAAAAAAASQ/8lNVXtim0TI/s320/tsa3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-45872799237098343712010-11-03T20:58:00.000-04:002010-11-03T20:58:21.687-04:00Cut It Out<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">It could be in you and me right now - a silent killer. A disease that will take us quickly and unexpectedly or slowly and painfully. But it could be there. I know that sounds a bit morbid, but, hey, Halloween was just a few days ago so I'm rolling with it. Seriously, though. It's true. How many people do you know in your life that seemed fine one day, and then not so fine the next? I think the key here is regular checkups. How many potentially lethal diseases and illnesses have been avoided or abated because of this? On the flip side, how many seemingly healthy people get sick out of nowhere and maybe even pass away? And of those how many thought, "I'm good. I don't need a regular check up" - only to find they were wrong.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">A lot of diseases have the moniker of "silent killer", but I think cancer is the one that deserves that title the most. It seems to come out of nowhere. Regular checkups can help to prevent or catch this awful disease which takes over a half million lives a year and is the cause of 23% of all deaths in this country. But what if you have it? How far would you go to remove it - if you could? There are so many treatments for cancer - each as extreme as the rest. Chemotherapy. Radiation. Surgery. Bone marrow transplant. Stem cell transplant. And more. None of these are light treatments. All are extremely difficult with the understanding that they still may not work. But, again, how far would you go?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I read recently about a 31 year old Canadian woman, <a href="http://www.foxnews.com/health/2010/09/21/womans-body-cut-half-treat-aggressive-cancer/?test=latestnews">Janis Ollson</a>, was having extreme back pain while pregnant with her second child. Doctors initially thought that the pain was related to a difficult pregnancy. But they soon found that they were wrong. She had bone cancer and it was not treatable with radiation or chemotherapy. So they all had a choice to make - a choice that is hard to even imagine. They chose...to have her cut in half in order to remove the tumor. This they did, and she lived. This is the only time in history this has happened when the patient lived. In fact this type of surgery is usually only performed on cadavers. The doctors amputated her legs, cut off her lower spine, as well as half of her pelvis so they could remove a tumor that was the "size of a calzone" - the biggest they had ever seen. She now has one leg fused to her body, as well as a prosthetic leg and pelvis. She now utilizes a wheelchair, walker, or crutches to get around. but she is alive and cancer free.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">What an amazing story.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I wonder how far we would go in her shoes from a physical perspective. But what about looking at this as a spiritual analogy? In a spiritual sense, sin is a cancer. It's in all of us, and without regular checkups, it can be hard to detect let alone difficult to cure. If left unchecked it can be destructive - even deadly. The Bible has some extreme things to say about sin and how to handle it. Consider the following verses:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Matthew 5:29, "If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away..."</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Matthew 5:30, "If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away..."</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The Bible is serious about sin. In fact, James 1:15 says this, "...sin when it is fully grown brings forth death."</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">So why play with it? Why ignore it? Why hide it? Why think about it? Why do it? Why do we allow it free reign when we know for a certainty what it's going to do? If you and I were told that we have cancer, we would be aggressive about eradicating it by any means possible. Because we know what it is and what it can and will do if left alone. We would even cut it out. And that's what we need to do with sin - we need to cut it out. We need to keep short accounts. We need regular checkups. And we have every means necessary spiritually speaking to make sure that sin does not win. And don't be fooled by thinking that you and I "fall into sin". It is a gradual progression down a slippery slope of not heeding the need for repentance before that big fall sends us over the edge into an abyss of pain, consequences, or worse. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I hope this is helpful and challenging. I only write it because I have been challenged by my own failure in this area. We need to live in freedom from sin.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TNIDlTfaZCI/AAAAAAAAASM/e29EN7zdpWc/s1600/breaking+chains.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TNIDlTfaZCI/AAAAAAAAASM/e29EN7zdpWc/s320/breaking+chains.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-19353494275607311542010-10-31T14:19:00.000-04:002010-10-31T14:19:35.683-04:00The Clarity Of Church Bells<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have a confession to make - I am not a good Christian. I know this - not because somebody told me that, but because the Holy Spirit has revealed it to me this weekend. And it took church bells to help me see it. More on that later.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's been a hard 14 months for Erin and I - on every level. The highlight of the last year has been finding a church home - not just going to church, but actually calling a church...home. That is a big deal, and I'm not sure that everyone who is a Christian knows what that feels like. That's been huge for us. And it has come at the right time for us, because, apart from that, things haven't gone our way. You name it we've been hit by it. And, honestly, the hits just keep on coming. I'm not going to get into the details of it all. But we're exhausted and fatigued, and we're really looking forward to the holidays and extra breaks (except for the fact that Erin has a difficult surgery coming up over Christmas). So, yeah, it's been a hard year plus.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Erin and I usually take a daily walk around our little historic town of Lebanon, OH. We live just three blocks from downtown and we love walking to town, stopping at shops, talking to shop owners, grabbing a chocolate at the Golden Turtle or a cupcake at Manna, probably a coffee for Erin and a frozen or hot chocolate for me. I'm not sure how completely healthy that is, but it usually is relaxing. Except for this weekend. As we took our walk, we decided to go to Manna (again). We each got a mini cupcake and a drink, and then we got some extras to take to some friends of ours from church who lived just up the street (they told us recently they haven't been there yet). So we did that, and talked with them a bit. It was nice, but I was distracted. As we left, Erin had a hair appointment - again, just up the street. I walked her there and then I walked the rest of the way back home. It didn't dawn on me at first that I was heads down in heavy thought. I was wearing discouragement like a coat - paying no attention to the beauty of the day. And then my ears picked up one of my favorite sounds - church bells pealing a familiar hymn. Having grown up in a Baptist church surrounded by hymns, my ears recognized the song immediately - "What A Friend We Have In Jesus". And my heart just squeezed as I remembered the words, "...Oh what peace we often forfeit, Oh what needless pain we bear, All because we do not carry, Everything to God in prayer." Two things struck me right then as I continued walking listening to those noonday chimes: 1) My prayer life stinks; and, 2) How I miss those hymns. I purposed to go home and dust off the hymnal on my bookshelf to revisit that hymn. And, upon doing so, I just sat there and tried to let the message hit home. And I prayed, as best I could, because there is a lot built up in me. But it was a start. And I'm not talking about vain repetitions. I'm talking about just pouring my heart out to God. I've got a long way to go both in my prayer life and in getting through these accumulated challenges, but of one thing I am certain - I have a friend in Jesus. I am reminded of Hebrews 4:15 (ESV), "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin." Amen.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"></span>"What a Friend We Have in Jesus"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Text: Joseph M. Scriven, 1820-1886 </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Music:</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Charles C. Converse, 1832-1918 </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal;"></span></span><br />
<center></center><pre><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></pre><pre><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. What a friend we have in Jesus,
all our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry
everything to God in prayer!
O what peace we often forfeit,
O what needless pain we bear,
all because we do not carry
everything to God in prayer.
2. Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged;
take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a friend so faithful
who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness;
take it to the Lord in prayer.
3. Are we weak and heavy laden,
cumbered with a load of care?
Precious Savior, still our refuge;
take it to the Lord in prayer.
Do thy friends despise, forsake thee?
Take it to the Lord in prayer!
In his arms he'll take and shield thee;
thou wilt find a solace there.</span></pre><pre><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></pre><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TM2yEAca70I/AAAAAAAAASE/YImncDwh-NQ/s1600/ChurchBellTower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TM2yEAca70I/AAAAAAAAASE/YImncDwh-NQ/s320/ChurchBellTower.jpg" width="260" /></a></div><pre style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></pre>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-74708319848215931462010-10-04T20:30:00.000-04:002010-10-04T20:30:35.577-04:00Watch My Story - A Story of Four FathersI had the privilege of sharing part of my testimony with my church family yesterday in both services. I did so via video recording. It was recorded by Carl and Amy Johnson - our worship pastor and his wife. It was such a blessing and I pray that God can use it over and over again for His glory. I've always called my story "A Story of Four Fathers", and I just wanted to share it.<br />
<br />
Thanks for checking in!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/15506428">My Story - A Story of Four Fathers</a><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TKpxdBKki-I/AAAAAAAAASA/RDeTmVlraZk/s1600/Father_and_Son_BW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="203" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TKpxdBKki-I/AAAAAAAAASA/RDeTmVlraZk/s320/Father_and_Son_BW.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-86688293486466421802010-09-12T18:12:00.000-04:002010-09-12T18:12:32.074-04:00If You Want To See How Strong Your Marriage Is......Go on a long canoe trip in the middle of nowhere in Cumberland, KY. I promise that you will discover the best and worst about your marriage. You will see what you're doing right and what you're doing wrong.<br />
<br />
This was a last minute trip. We didn't think we'd be able to take the trip this year for a variety of reasons, but when we cashed out some 5/3 rewards, we decided to go for it. We always take a camping trip at the end of summer over Labor Day weekend. We also always go to Putin Bay. But we wanted a different kind of trip - more of a hiking/canoeing kind of trip. We looked all over Ohio but everything was booked. Erin found a nice campsite in southern Kentucky, about 75 miles south of Lexington near the Cumberland Falls. The weather was cooler, but absolutely beautiful. We made good time getting there early Friday evening. We got set up at camp and relaxed, read, and went to bed early. We were both exhausted. The next day we drove to Cumberland Falls. It was even better than I thought it would be. We took a long hike through the hills and just took out time enjoying the Falls and the quiet of nature. It was very nice. On our way back we stopped at the headquarters for the outfit that was coordinating our canoe trip for the next day and we got all of our paperwork done ahead of time. But here's where things started to get interesting. We had booked this trip ahead of time, and it was to be an all day canoe trip. We were really excited about it because we love to canoe and we knew the weather was going to be great. Now at this point we are 45 minutes away from our campsite. The lady at the canoe place explained that where we would be ending our trip was where we would be going the next morning, which was an additional 45 minutes away from headquarters, so we would be driving an hour and a half to get to there - plus 45 minutes by bus to where we would be starting our canoe trip. That's over two hours of driving early Sunday morning just to start our all day trip. But we had dropped a good bit of cash on the trip and we weren't going to get it back now, so we had no choice. We were still excited though. So we get up Sunday, drive all the way to the river. And let me just say that some of the roads weren't marked. I expected to hear dueling banjo's at any moment. After a bit, the bus shows up - a short bus (my first time on a short bus) pulling kayaks and canoes. Two couples just finished their early morning canoe trip, and Erin and I and another family of four were on our way to start ours. 45 minutes later we turn onto a steep, winding, freshly graveled road that snaked its way down to the river where we would be dropped off. It's an absolutely gorgeous morning. The scenery is breathtaking. The weather is in the high 70's. And we are looking forward to some quiet time together on our all day canoe trip just talking and taking in all that nature had to offer. But isn't it just like life to get in the way? Sure, we had this planned out; it was going to be great - what could possibly go wrong on a morning like this? It's a canoe trip - with my wife. It's meant to be...chill. No stress. We have enough of that back home. After all - we were on a technology-free trip. It was just her and I - together. And that's about the time that my thoughts were interrupted by a sickening feeling - the brakes went out on the bus - right at the point in a sharp curve that overlooked the river which was about 50 feet below us going down a steep hill. I had enough time to put my hand on Erin's leg and say, "There goes the brakes." It was all very surreal, and even almost serene. But the kid driving the bus (and I do mean kid) acted quickly, if not instinctively, and dropped it down into 1st gear and turned the wheels just enough to break our momentum, and we stuttered to a stop about three feet away from the edge. We all slowly got out of the bus, and we didn't say it out loud at first, but we all knew that was close. Let's just say the kid got a nice tip. I mean - we were within feet of going over and only God knows what would have happened.<br />
<br />
Next we all carried our canoes and kayaks down the rest of the way to start our trip. Surely the excitement was over, right? I mean, it's canoeing - not white water rafting. Well, we pushed out and immediately we came upon some rapids, and it's not like they were extreme, but we took the wrong approach. Erin was in the front and I was in the back of the canoe. As we were going through the rapids we weren't in unison with our paddling - <b>it's as if we were in the same boat but trying to go in different directions</b>. And we were moving fast toward a huge boulder the size of a large truck jutting out head high from the side of the river. Erin and I both saw it at the same time and I just knew she was going to crash into it and crack her skull. The only thing she could do was hold up her paddle with both hands to offer some protection against the blow that was coming. All I could do was watch, and I hated it. Her shifting and lifting caused the canoe to unsettle and probably saved her from getting hurt because at that point we went over. The water was actually deeper now (having just come out of the rapids) and it was cold. It took my breath away, and worse, I was wearing glasses (why???) and they flew off as I went under. I don't know how this happened because I am helpless without my glasses, but I reached out and caught my glasses mid air just out of the water - without even seeing where they went. Thank God! I was most concerned about my glasses because I'm blind without them and because they are expensive. Now, I had a little hiking bag with me in the canoe that had a bottle of water, some food, and (can you believe it) our digital camera. The bag was gone. My paddle was gone. I was under water. And the canoe started taking off upside down - rolling down the river, and I had no idea at this time what was happening to my wife, which scared me worst of all. I came up out of the water, grabbed onto the canoe and looked for Erin. She was about 20 feet down river floating as she was instructed by the driver ("in the rare event that you go overboard") - on her back, in her life jacket with her feet in the air up in front of her. And she had both our paddles, and the bag clutched to her as she was floating away from me. How that happened she doesn't even remember. Crazy. But she was heading into the really deep water, and it was a wide river, and I didn't like where this was headed. I had found that I could touch bottom where I was when I stood up, so I asked her to try because I knew she wouldn't be able to in seconds. She did, and she could touch bottom enough to get her going toward a rock island in the middle of the river. All of this time, the family from the bus was behind us watching, and a couple of teenage girls with a little girl were on the island - not sure why. But everyone was able to help us get to shore. We got the water out of the canoe, caught our breath, took inventory, and counted our blessings. Erin lost her sunglasses, and our digital camera was ruined, but other than that, we were fortunate. We shoved off again - soak and wet - but determined. We still had a few things to learn as a couple though, but lesson number one for me was:<br />
<br />
1. Marriage is full of unexpected <b>challenges</b>. Everything seemed great that morning. What could possibly go wrong? Now we know.<br />
<br />
So we continued down the river, and we quickly started bickering with each other. We were both frustrated, discouraged, wet, and even embarrassed a bit. Plus we couldn't take pictures of the awesome views all around us. Not to mention we've never had anything like that happen to us before. So as we were rowing, we were struggling a bit. I would try my way and she would try her way, and we weren't doing very well. We were fighting each other. And this taught me another lesson about marriage:<br />
<br />
2. Marriage is not a <b>competition</b>. When two people are in a canoe together there is no competition. There is no one person better than the other. We have to do this thing together - in unison. Teammates is a word Erin and I like to use a lot, but in this event we were competing against each other - both of us wanting to do things our way. Marriage doesn't work that way.<br />
<br />
Again, we continued on, and very soon, we developed a system of talking to each other about what we should be doing when we rowed. Talking. Communication. I know it's been said before, but communication is key in any relationship - especially in a marriage. And here's the simple lesson:<br />
<br />
3. Marriage is all about <b>communication</b>. Without proper communication, it's hard to go upstream or downstream, or through any rapids - be it on a canoe trip or in life.<br />
<br />
Time passes. Things are getting better for us. The tension is easing. We have a system. We're focused. We go on a bit, and then - uh-oh - another rapid. So as we approached, we talked it through - communicated - and we went through the rough waters together without any issue. This made us excited. We accomplished something together, and this produced something cool between us - comradery. We had found something every marriage needs:<br />
<br />
4. Marriage should be about <b>companionship</b>. You have to be able to go through life - the good, the bad, the ugly, the unexpected - together. And as our canoe trip was growing longer and longer, we were growing closer and closer. And that was cool. But that's not the end.<br />
<br />
We keep going, and going, and going. Remember, this is an all day canoe trip. And we're getting hungry. And it's taking a bit longer than we thought it would, not to mention that we would encounter six more rapids. We had to dig a little deeper, find a reserve of determination to get to the end of this. And that brings me to the last point:<br />
<br />
5. Marriage is all about <b>commitment</b>. You can't turn tale and run at the first sign of trouble. You can't quit on the other no matter what. Brakes going out? Does it seem like you're about to take a nose dive off the side of a cliff? Is your canoe capsizing? Are you experiencing rapids? Sharp rocks? Strong currents? Some undertow? Not sure where you're going, or how and when you're going to get there? Sometimes you have to bear down. You have to grind it out. See it through. There will be high expectations met with unforeseen challenges, but you have each other. You're in the boat together. And what I found this past weekend - the things I learned is - Erin and I are in the same boat, going the same direction - not just on that trip, but in life. We're together. And no matter what happens we have to see it through. Marriage has challenges, and they will only be made worse if it turns into a competition. Communication is a must. Companionship is a given - when you choose to be committed. It is work, but when you finally reach the shore together there is no better feeling.<br />
<br />
I had no idea a canoe trip could teach me so much about me, my wife, our marriage, but it did. So, if you want to see how strong your marriage is, go on a canoe trip. And hopefully you'll come to understand what I've come to understand - that I am so very blessed to have this amazing person in my life. I am blessed.<br />
<br />
Peace.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TI1QLKBA_eI/AAAAAAAAAR8/iRUZywql4tc/s1600/canoe_algonquin_sc0243.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TI1QLKBA_eI/AAAAAAAAAR8/iRUZywql4tc/s320/canoe_algonquin_sc0243.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-58973806038278207052010-09-11T23:10:00.000-04:002010-09-11T23:10:12.409-04:00Red Sun Farm<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Those of you who know Erin and I know that we are very conscientious about the food that we buy. Most of what we buy is organic. We spend a little extra money and a little extra time going to different places to get it, but the quality is as God intended - be it vegetables, meat, fruits, dairy, etc. But not everything that says organic is organic. You have to do your homework. Most manufacturers of organic products meet the very base requirements of what that means. But there are a lot of great brands out there doing it right. I wanted to take the time to introduce you to one that is local - </span><a href="http://www.redsunfarm.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">Red Sun Farm</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. Since 1793 this Loveland, OH farm has been doing this the right way when it comes to organic crops and meats. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All of their food is grown without chemicals, drugs or hormones. Animals are grass fed and roam on a free range. I've posted about what that means in weeks past when briefly mentioning the documentary </span><a href="http://www.foodincmovie.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">Food, Inc.</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> - which shows what most Americans eat these days, and how the food gets to them in such horrible, unhealthy, inhumane ways. It's amazing to think that just a couple generations ago our country thrived on what was rightly produced by farms such as Red Sun. Now it's all about corporate greed and the high cost of low prices from places like Walmart. It's a shame, but we won't have anything to do with it.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you go to Red Sun, you'll be blown away at how beautiful it is. It's like stepping back in time. It's set off of Loveland Avenue in the country. It's a gorgeous drive. When you get there you'll see their black barn on the left as you pull into the circular driveway. You can park, get out and go in their little store. You will find shelves stocked with all natural and organic products - eggs, cheeses, poultry, beef, pork, honey, jams, breads - you name it. And what's great about it is - most of the time they have an honor system on how you pay. They are not always in the shop. There's a box for you to slip your money or check when checking out your items. There's a mason jar with coin and bills for making change. And there's a notebook for you to right down your name, the date, what you purchased with the dollar amount, a tally, what you paid with (and left in the "Honor Box"), and the change that you made. That's all there is to it, but that's not really all there is to it. It's wonderful. It's old fashioned. It's honorable. It's right. And you leave feeling good that you helped some folks making the right choices with how they do business, and you'll be surprised to find that their prices are often better than even a grocery store like Whole Foods and Kroger. When you're done with your shopping and talking to caring, like-minded people you will no doubt meet in the store, you can walk the grounds a bit and appreciate their animals and grounds and how they take care of it all. I've always had a dream to have a little spread like that. I don't know if it will happen, but I do know that my wife and I will always support places like Red Sun Farm, and hopefully you will too. Why don't you make it a fun little trip? Historic Loveland has many great little shops and eateries and it's only five or so minutes away from the farm. Have lunch and then go shopping at Red Sun. You won't be disappointed and I guarantee you will go back again and again.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Additional Information:</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They are located at<br />
10995 Grog Run Road<br />
Loveland, Ohio 45140</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; border-collapse: separate;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">513-683-9780</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Web Site:</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 17px;"><a href="http://www.redsunfarm.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">http://www.redsunfarm.com/</span></span></a></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TIxCjgUV4VI/AAAAAAAAAR4/GTW-ZNQCPfM/s1600/2008_03_14-Farm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TIxCjgUV4VI/AAAAAAAAAR4/GTW-ZNQCPfM/s320/2008_03_14-Farm.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-152012147458693862010-09-11T19:03:00.000-04:002010-09-11T19:03:37.559-04:00lance brewer music now streaming on blog!!!I finally found a way to get this done. Found a nice streaming player that plays playlists on blog sites - called <a href="http://podbean.com/">Podbean</a>. Worth a "look-see" if you're in need of a nice player for your site as well. There's also a mini player which will allow me to post demo's I'm working on. Looking forward to it now that my studio is finally up at the house! Will post a demo called "Back Home" soon. Working on a song lyric write now called "Nellie Yost." Anyway, thanks for checking out my music. Enjoy!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TIwKo6ZFYvI/AAAAAAAAAR0/4sZGhjV_6Ls/s1600/1235928238505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TIwKo6ZFYvI/AAAAAAAAAR0/4sZGhjV_6Ls/s1600/1235928238505.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-15677228583605512702010-09-11T18:09:00.000-04:002010-09-11T18:09:57.217-04:00my blog got a makeoverwith the leaves starting to turn signifying the changing of seasons, it seemed time for a change to my blog - a makeover so to speak. i have been very busy the last couple of weeks between work, church, and traveling. it's time i got back to my writing. i will be writing soon on "do you want to see how strong your marriage is?"<br />
<br />
thanks for checking it out!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TIv9jftEpNI/AAAAAAAAARw/Lovxr5mZXjI/s1600/change.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TIv9jftEpNI/AAAAAAAAARw/Lovxr5mZXjI/s320/change.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-11386265050723188022010-08-18T18:21:00.000-04:002010-08-18T18:21:09.369-04:00Faith Over Football<div>I love the NFL. It's my favorite sport (although baseball is a close second). My wife knows that come Sunday I will be spending my day of rest camping in front of the TV (with my laptop - fantasy football is my second favorite, um, sport). This, of course, is after having gone to church and eaten brunch. I do have my priorities. But 1:00 PM, 4:00 PM, and 8:00 PM will show as busy on my calendar on Sundays from September to January. Oh yeah, and let's not forget about Mondays and even some Thursdays. I mean, when I hear the Monday Night Football theme song by Hank Williams, Jr., my heart starts racing (although Faith Hill's "Waiting All Day For Sunday Night" theme song for the Sunday night game is growing on me too). </div><div><br />
</div><div>I...Love...Football. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Last year, I had Frank Gore on one of my fantasy football teams. He is the starting running back for the San Fransisco 49ers. He missed some time last year due to injury, so I picked up his back up (handcuff is what we like to call it in fantasy football speak) to spot start while Gore was out. The name of his back up? Glen Coffee. He did really well for me while Gore was out. I started thinking, this rookie is going to make hay one day in the league. At that time, I didn't know much about Glen Coffee. I just needed a running back to start while Gore was injured. As of this week, I know a lot more about him and for good reason. He was a stand out star as the starting running back at Alabama taking the Tide to the SEC title game his Junior year. He rushed for almost 1400 yards that year. He decided to skip his senior year and declare himself eligible for the NFL draft. Money and fame awaited. He got drafted in the third round by the 49ers. He missed out on the Tide winning the national championship in what would have been his senior year of college during his rookie year in the NFL. But, hey, he had the money, right. And it was only a matter of hard work and time for him to hit the lime light. But money wasn't all that he had. He had a burden growing on him daily. That burden had to do with something that took place in Coffee's life during his time with the Crimson Tide in 2007 - he became a Christian and was baptized. Shortly thereafter, he began to accept speaking engagements to share his faith with others through his notoriety as a football star. But that was not enough. He tried faith with football in his life (which is something Tim Tebow of Florida Gator and now Denver Bronco fame is doing even now). But for him, he needed to choose faith over football. In his words, he was "wrestling" with the need to leave football behind - as a 23 year old budding star with even more money and fame surely ahead of him. Instead, he announced his retirement from the NFL this week to pursue "the will of God." He believes that God has another plan for him instead of football, and he is now on the path to pursuing that plan. His first step is to go back to Alabama and finish his undergraduate degree, and then possibly go to graduate school for ministry training. He said, "A lot of people aren't going to understand and realize because they don't have the wisdom to understand. Their eyes aren't open like mine are open. True happiness is glorifying God and glorifying Christ. That's what true happiness is...And for me, that wasn't the NFL. That wasn't where I needed to be." He is now going to pursue some ministry, but he's not yet sure what. He says opportunities will come. He just wants to surrender all and follow Christ.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I have a lot of respect for this type of decision. Yesterday, I got together with some brothers and we talked about this. I asked the question whether it was a tougher decision to leave behind money and fame when you've already had more of it at 23 then most folks get in a lifetime, or to have nothing and make this kind of surrender. It brought up good discussion, and surrendering to God's will for ones life is just as big deal for an all world athlete who has everything than for an unknown man or woman with little to their name. One thing is true, the whole world knows what he did, why he did it, and God is getting the glory. I hope and pray God uses him and protects him in whatever ministry God has for him. And I pray you and I are already pursuing God and His plan for our lives, and, if not, be willing to make the best choice we could ever make in order to do so.<br />
<br />
I'm sad I can't draft Glen Coffee for my fantasy team from a football perspective, but from an eternal perspective I'm glad we're on the same team.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TGxcbMNUJMI/AAAAAAAAARk/zpAx63edUk8/s1600/coffee-49ers-vikings-apjpg-c24cf7d74cc52b4e_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TGxcbMNUJMI/AAAAAAAAARk/zpAx63edUk8/s320/coffee-49ers-vikings-apjpg-c24cf7d74cc52b4e_large.jpg" width="270" /></a></div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><a href="http://www.al.com/sports/index.ssf/2010/08/full_story_glen_coffee_explain.html">Full story: Glen Coffee explains choosing faith over NFL football | al.com</a>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-58105281293688214322010-08-16T23:24:00.000-04:002010-08-16T23:24:40.359-04:00Wanna See Something Scary?Click <a href="http://www.usdebtclock.org/">here</a>.<br />
<br />
I'll give you a hint - it's directly related to the picture below.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TGn-1HkubfI/AAAAAAAAARg/8EAZH_6Cw3Q/s1600/debt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TGn-1HkubfI/AAAAAAAAARg/8EAZH_6Cw3Q/s1600/debt.jpg" /></a></div><br />
This kind of thinking is killing our country and our homes. My wife saw the above picture and laughed. Funny, I had an entirely different response. :) I will write more on this topic later this week, but for now - the web link above and this picture will have to suffice. It's plenty to take in.lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-17236255739752886902010-08-14T23:21:00.000-04:002010-08-14T23:21:45.216-04:00"See The Light""ah the games that we play<br />
and the price that we pay<br />
for public lies<br />
and secret lives<br />
<br />
always consequence<br />
never recompense<br />
the fool will fail and be exposed<br />
the wise will veil and decompose<br />
<br />
but no one can hide for very long<br />
for what's wrong with wrong? it's always wrong<br />
<br />
we work so hard to be deceptive<br />
but why can't we just be receptive<br />
to striving just as hard<br />
with our being - every part<br />
<br />
to have...<br />
<br />
an honest heart<br />
an open mind<br />
a humble spirit<br />
a word that's kind<br />
a love that lasts<br />
a faith that holds<br />
a grace that's real<br />
a truth that's bold<br />
with compassion in abundance<br />
with patience that is long<br />
taking time to listen<br />
not scared to sing a song<br />
discover peaceful sleep<br />
and strength to face the day<br />
a quiet place to meditate<br />
to pause, to praise, to pray<br />
<br />
why on earth can't this be<br />
a normal way of life?<br />
i guess the answer's not in me<br />
i need to see the Light"<br />
<br />
(c) - LMB 6/4/2010lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5473169506479563649.post-78114754743790266502010-08-13T22:29:00.000-04:002010-08-13T22:29:14.000-04:00Living A Trash-Free Life<div>Could you and I live a trash-free life? It can be done, and I can prove it below. I know it's hard to believe, but it's actually not as hard to do as you might think. As with most things in life, it all comes down to choices. Conscious choices. Or, better yet, conscientious choices.</div><div><br />
</div><div>The average person creates an average of 4.5 pounds of trash a day. In America alone, we throw away almost 250 million tons of trash a year - with only 33 percent being recycled. Imagine how much money could be saved and how much better we could treat the earth that God created if we became more determined to not just throw everything away - or, even worse, litter. Imagine the benefit this would have - not just on the environment, but even on the economy. Think about jobs this could create. Renewable energy. The list goes on. Because just about everything can be recycled these days, or even better - re-purposed. One mans trash is truly another mans treasure, and I've written on re-purposing before so I won't revisit that now. But sticking to the idea of recycling - I've noticed week to week (since becoming a home owner in July of 2008) that the recycle bin we put by the road is completely full and our trash bin is almost empty (we actually have two trash bins and seldom use both anymore). It's getting down to one bag of trash every two weeks, and we know even that is too much. Now, there has been some conscious thought put into that concept over the last two plus years, but the good thing is - it has started to become routine. We really don't put much thought into it at all anymore. We recycle as much as we can, but we know there is still room for improvement. I know this because of Amy and Adam Korst of Dallas, Oregon. </div><div><br />
</div><div>The Korst's made a choice to live as trash-free as possible for a whole year. To do so they had to make sure that what they bought could be recycled, or composted (I'm sure I will write more on conscientious purchasing at another time). Then they made sure they recycled as much as they could - almost everything. The end result? Let's just say it could all fit into one medium size box - 75 scraps of trash total. Among the scraps of trash that could not be recycled were eight used razor blades, a burned out light bulb, two Theraflu pouches, and a broken Christmas ornament. This all added up to almost four pounds of trash - for the year. Not the 4.5 pounds of trash the average American generates a day (which is almost 1650 pounds of trash for the year by the way). But they generated four pounds of trash FOR THE YEAR. They are my heroes. And they are an excellent example for all of us. </div><div><br />
</div><div>In recent weeks, we've decided to stop using sandwich bags for lunches and we purchased plastic, washable, reusable lunch bins with separate food compartments in it to take to work every day. We've also stopped getting and using plastic bags from Target and Kroger. We use reusable shopping bags. And we no longer use those same plastic bags for our, um, pets you-know-what - which used to get thrown in the trash bins (poor garbage truck driver!). Instead, we use organic litter that flushes down the commode. OK, OK - that might be information overload. :) But the principle is the same - what decisions and choices can we make in reference to recycling? It's not hard. Call Rumpke or Waste Management, and they'll drop off a huge recycling bin at your house that contains a sticker on it of codes and examples of what can (and should!) be recycled. Then, purchase recyclable products. And do it - RECYCLE. Make your trash bin lonely. It's really not hard, and it's the right thing to do. Remember - you can recycle almost everything! Erin and I are very conscious and determined in this and other areas like this, and we long for the day when having these types of conversations with people doesn't cause them to look at us like we have two heads. We would rather find like-minded individuals who simply care about doing the right thing. And shouldn't that be the Christian response? I'm positive some folks clicked on this thinking I would be writing a spiritual post about ridding our life of sin, but in one sense - that's exactly what I'm doing. Want proof? James 4:17, "To him who knows to do what is good and does not do it - to him it is sin." This certainly qualifies. </div><div><br />
</div><div>How about it? Get a medium sized box and set it aside for those random things that can't be recycled - and do the right thing with all the rest - recycle, recycle, recycle. And you may end up needing to do what we need to do even now - get a second recycle bin!</div><div><br />
</div><div>For more on The Korst's please visit the following article:</div><div><br />
</div><a href="http://content.usatoday.com/communities/greenhouse/post/2010/07/couple-lives-nearly-trash-free-for-a-year/1">Couple lives nearly trash-free for a year - Green House - USATODAY.com</a><br />
<div><br />
</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TGX99-P-wyI/AAAAAAAAARY/ehTJpXnXIfI/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ed2S-ibSCHM/TGX99-P-wyI/AAAAAAAAARY/ehTJpXnXIfI/s320/images.jpg" /></a></div><br />
</div>lance brewerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03499898297020984241noreply@blogger.com0