Growing up male offers many luxuries when it comes to heroes.
I can remember plenty of adventures in the backyard, on the school playground, and as I rode my bike through the streets of our neighborhood imagining I was one of the several heroes I looked up to. Whether it was wanting to have all the gadgets and cool car like Batman, the claws and healing powers of Wolverine, or super strength like my dad seemed to have. If it made me run faster, jump higher, and somehow get the girl-I wanted it.
This love of the hero never decreased as I grew up. You would imagine that once a man reached a certain age, the time of longing to have infinite strength, fly around from place to place, or have a cave full of gadgets would dissipate. To the contrary, this longing does the opposite-it intensifies. The desire to be the hero only transforms over time. Instead of wanting to be a the character seen in the latest comic book, men turn to characters in history-based movies. (I use the term "history-based" loosely) Men like Leonidas, the Spartan king, Jeremiah Johnson, the manly outdoorsman, or almost everyone's favorite William Wallace, the warrior poet who helped free Scotland.
All these men and characters ignite in us a desire to be and do something greater than ourselves. It is something that is near to the heart of every man. Yet, as I think of all these characters, all of whom I'd still love to emulate in some way, I can't help but think that my longing are off as to who to be like. As I think of Jesus, as a man, I can't help but think; "What better hero to strive to be like?".
We often have this misconception that Jesus was this meager and frail man that never raised His voice above a whisper and wouldn't be caught dead making the most of life. Instead, we see a man that was in amongst the people of His day where he ate, drank, partied, and loved them where they were. He addressed need, sought justice, loved, and even raised His voice, and a little cain with it. Heck, I'd be willing to bet, if He had bothered He could have gotten the girl. (keep in mind He was not married, nor did He father children or bother with any of that despite what Tom Hanks says in any movie where he has creepy sort-long hair) He exemplifies all the characteristics of what a man should be. He was a dynamic leader, He gave of Himself sacrificially in all He did, and acted out of nothing but love and glory for God.
In the end, that's the hero I want to be like.
Chances are I'll never lead an army to victory in a great battle that will be remembered throughout history, I may not give an inspirational speech that will inspire generations after me, I may not get the girl, and, despite my dreams at night, I may never get the chance to lead the resistance against the zombie and/or machine apocalypse. Despite this, my ultimate desire is to be the ultimate man and hero in living as Christ lived. Because when it all is said and done, what better path to follow than that of the man that saved the day, once and for all.
-peace
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
the reason i don't support gay marriage
As a Christ-follower I am called to love everyone.
Because of this, I try to love everyone.
I'd say I try to love everyone equally, but that's not entirely true. Because many people are jerks and have opinions that are in complete opposition to mine I have to try to love them more. It is very easy to love those that are easily loveable, but not those that I don't like. That's tough.
With that being said, I try to love all gay people. Again, I say try because some of them are jerks and some aren't. The reason I aim to love them is because Christ loves them and desperately longs to be in a relationship with them. Some would say this is wrong because they are in complete opposition to Him in their deliberate sin. Yet, if this were true, we'd all be screwed because we are all unloveable with that criteria.
Instead, Jesus loves us despite our sin (which we all have enough of even if it's not things we consider "major"). The fact of the matter is any sin, yes just one, warrants seperation from God. It doesn't matter if that sin is acceptable to the current government, society as a whole, or your grandma. If it falls short of God's perfection, it seperates you from Him. So, being gay is no different than lying to your boss about what time you got in this morning when you were running late.
In the case of gay marriage I have one major beef. While I love my country and feel I've been called to obey its laws (within the bounds of not going against God's will to glorify Him) I can't support a cause and idea that promotes going in direct contradiction to God's righteousness. God sees homosexuality as a sin, thus I cannot support it as a lifestyle or law.
Let me be very clear though. I also don't support any law that allows the wealthy to abuse power and take from the poor. I don't support any law or idea that promotes children not being fed well or one that promotes heterosexual sin (such as prostotution, etc). My beef isn't with gay marriage because it involves homosexuals. My beef is with the support of something that goes against God.
While I won't support any law or idea that promotes sin, I do aim to love those that are in the sin that the law or idea promotes.
I love gay people.
I love gay people and want them to come to Christ and live abundandly in Him as much as I want the banker who's job it is to cheat people out of money every day. I love gay people as much as I love the government official who takes advantage of his status for his personal gain. I love gay people as much as I love the guy that looks me straight in the face and lies to me about something petty. I love gay people as much as I love my own mother (and I do love her-see this post). In all these cases I am called to love people that are sinners, who have fallen short of God's perfection. They each need Christ's forgiveness, I am called to aid in them better realizing that.
Does it irritate me that this particular issue is based on a group that maintains their identity based on their sin? Yes. But this is no excuse to love them any less. We do not have to love what any sinner does in their sinnfulness. Instead, we should strive to love everyone as Christ loved us because while we were still sinners He died for us. He didn't wait until we were squeeky clean and had everything figured out. He came down and grab us in the midst of our mess and filth and loved us anyway.
When it comes down to it, this is not a civil rights issue or one about justice for everyone. Instead, it is a much deeper moral issue that points to us as a nation and people pointed down a path that continues to open the door to more and more loose judgement in light of God's Word. While I don't think that we should be a nation that forces Christian beliefs on everyone, I do know, as history has shown, that nations and people that consciously live in opposition to God don't fair too well. I don't want to see that in my generation or future generations. This is something that goes above and beyond simply being a civil rights or government issue. Instead it is an issue of how history and ultimately God will look upon us in light of God's standards.
Again, I love gay people (at least try to) but cannot support anything that opposes God's Word and will.
-peace
Because of this, I try to love everyone.
I'd say I try to love everyone equally, but that's not entirely true. Because many people are jerks and have opinions that are in complete opposition to mine I have to try to love them more. It is very easy to love those that are easily loveable, but not those that I don't like. That's tough.
With that being said, I try to love all gay people. Again, I say try because some of them are jerks and some aren't. The reason I aim to love them is because Christ loves them and desperately longs to be in a relationship with them. Some would say this is wrong because they are in complete opposition to Him in their deliberate sin. Yet, if this were true, we'd all be screwed because we are all unloveable with that criteria.
Instead, Jesus loves us despite our sin (which we all have enough of even if it's not things we consider "major"). The fact of the matter is any sin, yes just one, warrants seperation from God. It doesn't matter if that sin is acceptable to the current government, society as a whole, or your grandma. If it falls short of God's perfection, it seperates you from Him. So, being gay is no different than lying to your boss about what time you got in this morning when you were running late.
In the case of gay marriage I have one major beef. While I love my country and feel I've been called to obey its laws (within the bounds of not going against God's will to glorify Him) I can't support a cause and idea that promotes going in direct contradiction to God's righteousness. God sees homosexuality as a sin, thus I cannot support it as a lifestyle or law.
Let me be very clear though. I also don't support any law that allows the wealthy to abuse power and take from the poor. I don't support any law or idea that promotes children not being fed well or one that promotes heterosexual sin (such as prostotution, etc). My beef isn't with gay marriage because it involves homosexuals. My beef is with the support of something that goes against God.
While I won't support any law or idea that promotes sin, I do aim to love those that are in the sin that the law or idea promotes.
I love gay people.
I love gay people and want them to come to Christ and live abundandly in Him as much as I want the banker who's job it is to cheat people out of money every day. I love gay people as much as I love the government official who takes advantage of his status for his personal gain. I love gay people as much as I love the guy that looks me straight in the face and lies to me about something petty. I love gay people as much as I love my own mother (and I do love her-see this post). In all these cases I am called to love people that are sinners, who have fallen short of God's perfection. They each need Christ's forgiveness, I am called to aid in them better realizing that.
Does it irritate me that this particular issue is based on a group that maintains their identity based on their sin? Yes. But this is no excuse to love them any less. We do not have to love what any sinner does in their sinnfulness. Instead, we should strive to love everyone as Christ loved us because while we were still sinners He died for us. He didn't wait until we were squeeky clean and had everything figured out. He came down and grab us in the midst of our mess and filth and loved us anyway.
When it comes down to it, this is not a civil rights issue or one about justice for everyone. Instead, it is a much deeper moral issue that points to us as a nation and people pointed down a path that continues to open the door to more and more loose judgement in light of God's Word. While I don't think that we should be a nation that forces Christian beliefs on everyone, I do know, as history has shown, that nations and people that consciously live in opposition to God don't fair too well. I don't want to see that in my generation or future generations. This is something that goes above and beyond simply being a civil rights or government issue. Instead it is an issue of how history and ultimately God will look upon us in light of God's standards.
Again, I love gay people (at least try to) but cannot support anything that opposes God's Word and will.
-peace
Sunday, June 19, 2011
dad
While I'm not an emotional person or let things get the best of me, I find Father's Day to be less than appealing since my dad died in the fall of 2007.
It had been a long, up-hill battle with a failing body. It was a battle that not only ultimately claimed his life, but many aspects of his personality and ability to have the vigor for life he once possessed.
It is amazing how I had forgotten how fun he was until after he was gone. For years he had become so weak and merely a shell of himself physically, emotionally, and mentally. This change was dramatic enough that I often felt like I didn't know the man he had become. I resented his uneven keel, even though it was due to the plethora of medication he was on. Not to mention the sheer amount of physical turmoil he endured at the hand of his kidneys failing him. Upon his passing, as I gathered pictures, videos, and trinkets from a life stolen by disease, I was able to realize and remember the man for what he was, and not what he had become.
My dad was my football coach. and my basketball coach. and my baseball coach. He was the man that taught me to call the Hogs and ride a bike. He was the dad all the other kids were jealous of for one reason or another, whether it was trying to catch air in his old pickup truck on the way home from practice or letting us sneak cookies when mom wasn't looking. His knees were what I held on to as a toddler watching Predator for the first time. His hands and beard rough from a week's worth of hard labor at the rice mill, yet gentle enough to take us for rides on his motorcycle when we asked. He took us camping, whether we wanted to go or not and instilled in me a love and appreciation of good music. He was the life of the party whatever the occasion. He was fun and cool and lively. Sure his brand of parenting was a little unorthodox and he's most likely be locked up now-in-days for taking me to R-rated action movies as a father-son bonding experience every month or for spending hours wrestling with me as I continued to come back for more until I was seriously injured, crying, and he was in trouble by way of mom. We even got our first tattoos together.
I distinctly remember dad teaching me how to swim at the local Y by throwing me in the pool and forcing me to either swim or drown trying. It was with the same sentiment that he left. He died the day before my 24th birthday. This forced me to spend a day that would normally be spent celebrating with friends and family diving into another aspect of the real world. There came with it a sense that "nothing in this life is free and nothing worth having is easy". He never said it but spoke in both of these instances saying "the world isn't going to cater to you or be given to you easily". For that, I am thankful.
It would have been nice to have had more time with him, but some things aren't meant to be. Hindsight is often 20/20. It would have been nice to say what I didn't enough and do what we had always put off but when I think of those things I remember, and am thankful for, the things I was given. Just the week before he passed away, during a time when we had not had an actual conversation in weeks if not months, we went to the feed store to get dog food. As we pulled out of the store's parking lot my dad looked at me and said "I'm proud of you son". I didn't respond, much to my regret, but instead quietly excepted his comment and carried on. It was that little sentence that God used, in His perfect timing, to give me a lasting memory of the man I remember growing up with, the man that I remember as my dad.
...and man could he ever tell a story.
So, if you've got him, whether you're on great terms or not, enjoy him for being the man God has placed in your life.
peace.
It had been a long, up-hill battle with a failing body. It was a battle that not only ultimately claimed his life, but many aspects of his personality and ability to have the vigor for life he once possessed.
It is amazing how I had forgotten how fun he was until after he was gone. For years he had become so weak and merely a shell of himself physically, emotionally, and mentally. This change was dramatic enough that I often felt like I didn't know the man he had become. I resented his uneven keel, even though it was due to the plethora of medication he was on. Not to mention the sheer amount of physical turmoil he endured at the hand of his kidneys failing him. Upon his passing, as I gathered pictures, videos, and trinkets from a life stolen by disease, I was able to realize and remember the man for what he was, and not what he had become.
My dad was my football coach. and my basketball coach. and my baseball coach. He was the man that taught me to call the Hogs and ride a bike. He was the dad all the other kids were jealous of for one reason or another, whether it was trying to catch air in his old pickup truck on the way home from practice or letting us sneak cookies when mom wasn't looking. His knees were what I held on to as a toddler watching Predator for the first time. His hands and beard rough from a week's worth of hard labor at the rice mill, yet gentle enough to take us for rides on his motorcycle when we asked. He took us camping, whether we wanted to go or not and instilled in me a love and appreciation of good music. He was the life of the party whatever the occasion. He was fun and cool and lively. Sure his brand of parenting was a little unorthodox and he's most likely be locked up now-in-days for taking me to R-rated action movies as a father-son bonding experience every month or for spending hours wrestling with me as I continued to come back for more until I was seriously injured, crying, and he was in trouble by way of mom. We even got our first tattoos together.
I distinctly remember dad teaching me how to swim at the local Y by throwing me in the pool and forcing me to either swim or drown trying. It was with the same sentiment that he left. He died the day before my 24th birthday. This forced me to spend a day that would normally be spent celebrating with friends and family diving into another aspect of the real world. There came with it a sense that "nothing in this life is free and nothing worth having is easy". He never said it but spoke in both of these instances saying "the world isn't going to cater to you or be given to you easily". For that, I am thankful.
It would have been nice to have had more time with him, but some things aren't meant to be. Hindsight is often 20/20. It would have been nice to say what I didn't enough and do what we had always put off but when I think of those things I remember, and am thankful for, the things I was given. Just the week before he passed away, during a time when we had not had an actual conversation in weeks if not months, we went to the feed store to get dog food. As we pulled out of the store's parking lot my dad looked at me and said "I'm proud of you son". I didn't respond, much to my regret, but instead quietly excepted his comment and carried on. It was that little sentence that God used, in His perfect timing, to give me a lasting memory of the man I remember growing up with, the man that I remember as my dad.
...and man could he ever tell a story.
So, if you've got him, whether you're on great terms or not, enjoy him for being the man God has placed in your life.
peace.
Monday, June 13, 2011
my mama
If you want to see a picture of strength and determination compiled into a lifetime, look no further than Phyllis J Wofford.
Educator. Leader. Giver. Cancer Survivor. My mom.
Her parents are part of the greatest generation and raised her in rural Arkansas where work ethic and grit are part of your daily bread. The middle child of three and only girl, she attended Barber College after high school to pursue a career in cutting hair. She opened her own salon alongside a friend in Brinkley Arkansas. It was there she lived with her husband Jimbo and their awesome first child (yours truly).
After transplanting to Jacksonville (AR) for a short while, we wound up in Jonesboro (AR) for my dad's job at Busch Agricultural Resources where he worked in the rice mill on the north side of town. My mom used this opportunity to go back to school to become a teacher where she finished in under 4 years.
The work of raising two children and going to school full time didn't come easy, but boy did she ever make it look that way. We grew up decently poor on the wrong end of town but never new anything less than extravagant Christmases and birthdays. We didn't know until later in life that we had spent our childhood poor. We were spoiled emotionally and in material things, but in the way you hope to spoil your children-not in the modern "over protect them and coddle them" sense.
My sister and I were raised to fear the Lord and the belt but were given every freedom to express ourselves and be creative in our own personalities and interests. It was the perfect balance of a strict upbringing without making us "participation trophy winning" sissies on the freedom side.
Graduating early and getting a great teaching job pretty quick weren't good enough for her, so my mom moved on to become among the first class in Arkansas of teachers to receive the National Board for Professional Teachers certification in addition to her teaching job. She has since made quite the name for herself by leading and instructing other teachers on how to obtain this certification. She is the go-to woman on the issue and if you mention her name in those circles, you get a "THE Phyllis Wofford!?" response. Yeah. She's kind of a big deal. A book on how to be the best teacher you can be will be out soon enough.
My mom continues to be the strong, caring, uber-supportive and giving woman she has always been, who never gets enough credit for her actions. She opens up her home to strangers, leans on the Lord for wisdom, knowledge, and understanding, and is in a class all her own when it comes to upstanding women. If you ever want to learn about how to manage life as a woman, parent, teacher, and all-around superhero, have a sit down with my mom.
I give you this TINY peek into who she is and where she's come from because today is her birthday.
I cherish her, appreciate her, and LOVE her more than any words on a blog could express.
Feel free to do the same to your mom. She's not as cool as mine, but chances are, she's close and would love the time of day from you.
peace.
Educator. Leader. Giver. Cancer Survivor. My mom.
Her parents are part of the greatest generation and raised her in rural Arkansas where work ethic and grit are part of your daily bread. The middle child of three and only girl, she attended Barber College after high school to pursue a career in cutting hair. She opened her own salon alongside a friend in Brinkley Arkansas. It was there she lived with her husband Jimbo and their awesome first child (yours truly).
After transplanting to Jacksonville (AR) for a short while, we wound up in Jonesboro (AR) for my dad's job at Busch Agricultural Resources where he worked in the rice mill on the north side of town. My mom used this opportunity to go back to school to become a teacher where she finished in under 4 years.
The work of raising two children and going to school full time didn't come easy, but boy did she ever make it look that way. We grew up decently poor on the wrong end of town but never new anything less than extravagant Christmases and birthdays. We didn't know until later in life that we had spent our childhood poor. We were spoiled emotionally and in material things, but in the way you hope to spoil your children-not in the modern "over protect them and coddle them" sense.
My sister and I were raised to fear the Lord and the belt but were given every freedom to express ourselves and be creative in our own personalities and interests. It was the perfect balance of a strict upbringing without making us "participation trophy winning" sissies on the freedom side.
Graduating early and getting a great teaching job pretty quick weren't good enough for her, so my mom moved on to become among the first class in Arkansas of teachers to receive the National Board for Professional Teachers certification in addition to her teaching job. She has since made quite the name for herself by leading and instructing other teachers on how to obtain this certification. She is the go-to woman on the issue and if you mention her name in those circles, you get a "THE Phyllis Wofford!?" response. Yeah. She's kind of a big deal. A book on how to be the best teacher you can be will be out soon enough.
My mom continues to be the strong, caring, uber-supportive and giving woman she has always been, who never gets enough credit for her actions. She opens up her home to strangers, leans on the Lord for wisdom, knowledge, and understanding, and is in a class all her own when it comes to upstanding women. If you ever want to learn about how to manage life as a woman, parent, teacher, and all-around superhero, have a sit down with my mom.
I give you this TINY peek into who she is and where she's come from because today is her birthday.
I cherish her, appreciate her, and LOVE her more than any words on a blog could express.
Feel free to do the same to your mom. She's not as cool as mine, but chances are, she's close and would love the time of day from you.
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