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.
Monday, May 2, 2011
initial thoughts on bid laden's death
There are so many thoughts swirling around my head and heart right now as I soak in this historic news.
I consider myself to have a very healthy and appropriate level of patriotism and thus am very excited about this American victory. I remember very distinctly being in my first period class in high school the morning of September 11th and watching the news unfold throughout the day. Being 18 at the time, I remember the uncertainty of a looming war in conversations with my friends at the lunch table for weeks after, wondering if a draft would be calling upon us.
It is with that context that I celebrate with my fellow countrymen. This is a great victory for those of us that watched the events unfold before our eyes-one I rejoice in for justice sake.
On the other hand, I am very torn.
I feel I cannot rejoice in the death of an individual that did not have a relationship with Jesus Christ. While a great instrument of terror is now gone, another soul is forever separated from the presence of God's glory and grace. This saddens me greatly.
I do not aim to be "holier than thou" on this matter and claim that I am not happy that we do not have to fear Bin Laden any longer. Nor do I appreciate the sacrifice the men and women in our military have given any less. Instead, I am in a solemn state where I look to God for guidance as to how to handle such immense things. He is the author of creation, life, king and kingdoms. In that, I take ultimate refuge.
On a history note:
This is BIG!
On a political note:
I'd like to remind you that it was not Bush, setting these events in motion, not Obama, giving the final order, that made this happen. It was the brave, fighting men that carried out the operation-fighting on the front lines for years now-that made this possible. Ultimate credit is due to them-not political constituents. (Please keep in mind that politics is one of my least favorite subjects in this world-I do not associate with any major political party)
As the days and news around this progress, I will expound my thoughts and maybe write some more of them down. Until then...USA! USA! USA!
-peace
I consider myself to have a very healthy and appropriate level of patriotism and thus am very excited about this American victory. I remember very distinctly being in my first period class in high school the morning of September 11th and watching the news unfold throughout the day. Being 18 at the time, I remember the uncertainty of a looming war in conversations with my friends at the lunch table for weeks after, wondering if a draft would be calling upon us.
It is with that context that I celebrate with my fellow countrymen. This is a great victory for those of us that watched the events unfold before our eyes-one I rejoice in for justice sake.
On the other hand, I am very torn.
I feel I cannot rejoice in the death of an individual that did not have a relationship with Jesus Christ. While a great instrument of terror is now gone, another soul is forever separated from the presence of God's glory and grace. This saddens me greatly.
I do not aim to be "holier than thou" on this matter and claim that I am not happy that we do not have to fear Bin Laden any longer. Nor do I appreciate the sacrifice the men and women in our military have given any less. Instead, I am in a solemn state where I look to God for guidance as to how to handle such immense things. He is the author of creation, life, king and kingdoms. In that, I take ultimate refuge.
On a history note:
This is BIG!
On a political note:
I'd like to remind you that it was not Bush, setting these events in motion, not Obama, giving the final order, that made this happen. It was the brave, fighting men that carried out the operation-fighting on the front lines for years now-that made this possible. Ultimate credit is due to them-not political constituents. (Please keep in mind that politics is one of my least favorite subjects in this world-I do not associate with any major political party)
As the days and news around this progress, I will expound my thoughts and maybe write some more of them down. Until then...USA! USA! USA!
-peace
Thursday, April 28, 2011
life update
For those that I don't speak to too often, here is an update as to my situation with ministry in Miami.
Background:
I spent most of the Fall and early part of the Spring "negotiating" terms of me possibly coming back for an additional year in Miami. It was a huge stress, to say the least, that included me flying to Jacksonville for an hour-long meeting with our state director, countless emails, phone calls, and budgeting of every aspect of the matter.
Finally, a couple months ago, I received word that the proposal, for me to stay with a pay increase, had been approved. I was told that we'd work out details later.
Fast forward to last week.
I spoke with our human resource guy at the state office about the details. He went over details about my situation with our state's executive director to get everything ironed out to best suit everyone involved. The result of this meeting was me being brought on as a "administrative-approved employee", which means I'm just one step below a "board-elected employee". This means I now get insurance, dental, and some life insurance paid for by the convention rather than out of my own pocket. I also get vacation and sick days as well as get to stay living in the BCM building without having to pay rent.
The biggest news to come from all of this is the fact that I will not have to re-up each year through stressful "negotiations" and proposals. Instead, I am a full employee on an "indefinite" timeline. If I decide to leave, for whatever reason, I can or if they want to bring someone else in my place, they can but will give me plenty of advanced warning.
So, essentially, I'll be in Miami for several more years. This is a huge relief of pressure to not have to wonder if I have a job each year. It also gives me the opportunity to plan for some future vision within BCM, since I know I'll be here for a while. I also continue to press forward with my seminary schooling. I should be done in about a year and a half. It has made me realize how much I enjoy learning about ministry and theology and hate our learning systems in America. I press on though.
As I joked with a friend the other day, this lessens my chances of finding me a good southern girl, unless they come to me. I guess that's something I'll just have to deal with. I'm sure I'll manage.
-peace
Background:
I spent most of the Fall and early part of the Spring "negotiating" terms of me possibly coming back for an additional year in Miami. It was a huge stress, to say the least, that included me flying to Jacksonville for an hour-long meeting with our state director, countless emails, phone calls, and budgeting of every aspect of the matter.
Finally, a couple months ago, I received word that the proposal, for me to stay with a pay increase, had been approved. I was told that we'd work out details later.
Fast forward to last week.
I spoke with our human resource guy at the state office about the details. He went over details about my situation with our state's executive director to get everything ironed out to best suit everyone involved. The result of this meeting was me being brought on as a "administrative-approved employee", which means I'm just one step below a "board-elected employee". This means I now get insurance, dental, and some life insurance paid for by the convention rather than out of my own pocket. I also get vacation and sick days as well as get to stay living in the BCM building without having to pay rent.
The biggest news to come from all of this is the fact that I will not have to re-up each year through stressful "negotiations" and proposals. Instead, I am a full employee on an "indefinite" timeline. If I decide to leave, for whatever reason, I can or if they want to bring someone else in my place, they can but will give me plenty of advanced warning.
So, essentially, I'll be in Miami for several more years. This is a huge relief of pressure to not have to wonder if I have a job each year. It also gives me the opportunity to plan for some future vision within BCM, since I know I'll be here for a while. I also continue to press forward with my seminary schooling. I should be done in about a year and a half. It has made me realize how much I enjoy learning about ministry and theology and hate our learning systems in America. I press on though.
As I joked with a friend the other day, this lessens my chances of finding me a good southern girl, unless they come to me. I guess that's something I'll just have to deal with. I'm sure I'll manage.
-peace
Friday, April 15, 2011
...story of my life
For several years now I've had enough adventures, both in life and ministry, to warrant people constantly telling me I should write a book. While I would love to do so, I'm not sure it would ever get published or read by anyone other than my mom. Even with that being the case, I've jotted things down here and there should the time ever come for me to step up and make writing a book a reality. For now, I plan on using this blog to at least write some of my ideas for what would be in my book.
___________________________
Often when something odd or slightly unpleasant happens, you'll hear someone say "story of my life". I took that idea a bit further though, once I found myself saying that phrase more often than not because of all the oddity in my life. With the idea of writing in the back of my mind, i thought "instead of 'story of my life' it'd be more like 'chapters in my book'", since i feel my life is too varied and adventured to fit all it has to offer within a title that falls short. I couldn't have the title of the book about my life and ministry being something trivial like "a day late and a dollar short".
What's in a name?
It should be noted that from the initial idea to write a book, I had the title figured out. Credit for that partially goes to Jason Mills. While on a mission trip in NYC at the The Bowery, I was having a conversation with several of my students about the possibility of writing something and what it would look like. With the types of stories I would include, and knowing somewhat my tendency to not be fully clothed all the time, Jason rattled off "Various Stages of Undressed: The Matt Wofford Story". We all laughed at the idea and went on with our day. This, however, got me thinking. Maybe this did sum it all up. Perhaps my life was a tale of various stages of being undressed.
As I recall from childhood, as evidence by a recent facebook photo album, I was never one to wear clothes too often, unless I absolutely found it to be necessity. Even aging, and thus "maturing", didn't remedy the desire to forfeit clothing as my first option. Despite my on-again, off-again "heftiness" in college I gladly took the reigns of the "Naked Guys", a group of BCM guys that would paint up their chests for home football games at Arkansas State. To this day I think the phrase my sister has said to me more than any other is "Matt!....Pants!!" (of course eluding to the fact that I wasn't wearing any and thus needed to put some on to make her more comfortable)...Although I feel that if I were to wear pants around the house, when I'm home for Christmas and the occasional Summer weekend, it might throw her off and in fact be odd.
At any rate, beyond the fact that the title seemed to fit with my seemingly "free as a bird" lifestyle, it felt right in so many other ways. The idea of "Various Stages of Undressed" felt like it reached deep into my soul. I've always been a fan of the idea of the reverence and respect paid to royalty and who better to pay respect and reverence to than the King of kings? Whether it is in my personal devotional time, study of scripture, or even corporate prayer, I always see myself bowing at the foot of the throne of God, on my knees, and completely humbled by His glory and might. Going a step further, knowing that He knows my every thought and feeling, I realize there are no barriers between us. For that reason, I am naked before God. There is nothing that I can put up as a shield to cover up who I am, what I've done, or what I offer Him. He sees me for what I am and still loves me as if I were the only one. That amazes me and draws me closer to Him. It is that moment that I feel closer to God than any other, knowing that there is nothing separating us, and that moment that I aim for in every aspect of my life...to be naked before God.
So, with that in mind, here is my life. Journeying through various stages of undressed.
-peace
___________________________
Often when something odd or slightly unpleasant happens, you'll hear someone say "story of my life". I took that idea a bit further though, once I found myself saying that phrase more often than not because of all the oddity in my life. With the idea of writing in the back of my mind, i thought "instead of 'story of my life' it'd be more like 'chapters in my book'", since i feel my life is too varied and adventured to fit all it has to offer within a title that falls short. I couldn't have the title of the book about my life and ministry being something trivial like "a day late and a dollar short".
What's in a name?
It should be noted that from the initial idea to write a book, I had the title figured out. Credit for that partially goes to Jason Mills. While on a mission trip in NYC at the The Bowery, I was having a conversation with several of my students about the possibility of writing something and what it would look like. With the types of stories I would include, and knowing somewhat my tendency to not be fully clothed all the time, Jason rattled off "Various Stages of Undressed: The Matt Wofford Story". We all laughed at the idea and went on with our day. This, however, got me thinking. Maybe this did sum it all up. Perhaps my life was a tale of various stages of being undressed.
As I recall from childhood, as evidence by a recent facebook photo album, I was never one to wear clothes too often, unless I absolutely found it to be necessity. Even aging, and thus "maturing", didn't remedy the desire to forfeit clothing as my first option. Despite my on-again, off-again "heftiness" in college I gladly took the reigns of the "Naked Guys", a group of BCM guys that would paint up their chests for home football games at Arkansas State. To this day I think the phrase my sister has said to me more than any other is "Matt!....Pants!!" (of course eluding to the fact that I wasn't wearing any and thus needed to put some on to make her more comfortable)...Although I feel that if I were to wear pants around the house, when I'm home for Christmas and the occasional Summer weekend, it might throw her off and in fact be odd.
At any rate, beyond the fact that the title seemed to fit with my seemingly "free as a bird" lifestyle, it felt right in so many other ways. The idea of "Various Stages of Undressed" felt like it reached deep into my soul. I've always been a fan of the idea of the reverence and respect paid to royalty and who better to pay respect and reverence to than the King of kings? Whether it is in my personal devotional time, study of scripture, or even corporate prayer, I always see myself bowing at the foot of the throne of God, on my knees, and completely humbled by His glory and might. Going a step further, knowing that He knows my every thought and feeling, I realize there are no barriers between us. For that reason, I am naked before God. There is nothing that I can put up as a shield to cover up who I am, what I've done, or what I offer Him. He sees me for what I am and still loves me as if I were the only one. That amazes me and draws me closer to Him. It is that moment that I feel closer to God than any other, knowing that there is nothing separating us, and that moment that I aim for in every aspect of my life...to be naked before God.
So, with that in mind, here is my life. Journeying through various stages of undressed.
-peace
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