This Is A Game?

I won’t deny it.  I’m competitive.  I am a firm believer that the point of any good game is to have a single winner.  And if there is a single winner then there is obviously at least one non-winner…if not more.  Anyone want to play Settler’s of Catan or Ticket to Ride?

My daughter…she’s also competitive.  She recently got a new “game” and challenged me to play her tonight.  My response?  GAME ON!  The only problem is that this turned out to be no game…it was work.

The title of this game is called Create-A-Story.  The object is to move your game piece around the board collecting cards, which are labled such enticing things like, topic sentence, setting, character, dialogue, plot, resolution, and lesson.  (Sorting the cards into piles should have been my first idea…)  Then after you have safely manuevered your way through the board you begin to create a story. And then you score the story. You get points for each card you use and ultimately everyone gets 100 points.

This is definitely, not a game for two reasons.  First, there really is no winner.  And second, this one requires you to write.  I remember my English classes.  Creative writing was no game!  There were too many dangling participles and split-infinitives to make it fun.  In fact, to this day I couldn’t tell you what those are, but I can tell you I always used them.  Yep, no fun.

But I need to play because my daughter is actively and purposefully sorting through her cards, dulling her pencil, and shredding her eraser, I will begin my story…(maybe she won’t use all her cards.)

It was cold.  It was really cold.  The time machine landed with a loud thud, knocking me out of my seat.  I was at the bottom of the ocean. Me and a pilgrim, a gorilla, an Alien, and the town bully.  There were funny looking creatures everywhere.  Where was I?  Oh yeah…the bottom of the ocean.  The problem was that the gauges were telling me I had gone forward in time, only for my time machine to break.  Great….

Amidst my mumbling I thought to my self that one time on a cold and rainy, horribly terrific, freezing night, I received one million dollars for finding the ancient treasure.  It was too much for one person. It led me to discover how to be generous and that persistence and determination could pay off.  The end.

When adding up my score I get 10 points for using a topic sentence, 5 for when the story took place, and…oh never mind.  Don’t I win for finishing my story first?

Until next time…

Pastor Barry

What’s In A Word?

For those of you who follow me in the blogosphere world – it doesn’t come as much of a surprise when I say that it has been a long time since my last post!  I suppose then, that this is the time where I should run through a litany of excuses as to why so much time has passed.  However, if I were to end up doing that I would be assured of two things: First, excuses don’t really matter, and second, no one really cares anyway.  But this does matter…this post is finally making its way to your computer screen.

Now that the calendar has turned from 2011 to 2012 (and at the risk of over posting about the new year), I want to point out that we humans, as linear time marking beings, are naturally inclined to take this calendar turning thing as a moment to make resolutions.  This is the time of year where we decide on things we want to change or do differently in the future.  Now personally, I have never made it a practice of making resolutions, but because of my loving wife I do choose a “word” to live by for the coming year.  Last year, as a matter of fact, we both by chance, chose the same word. It made a huge difference in our lives. We chose “obedience.”

It’s kind of amazing when you think about what’s in a word.  Especially if you take the time to examine it, define it, choose to live by it and take ownership of it.  Obedience is defined as being willing to obey or the act of obeying.  It is submitting to someone else and their authority or command.  Obedience is what brought my wife and my family to the central California coast.  It is here that I pastor a wonderful community of believers at Living Hope Church of the Nazarene.  (You should check them out at here.)  But obedience was last year’s word…this year’s word is different.

Which, brings me back to why I am writing.  This year’s word is part of the reason I am sitting at my kitchen table writing as my children are studying.

My girls are home schooled.  One is doing math right now, and the other is writing in her journal.  Neither really wants to be doing their work at this moment.  But I guess who could blame them because there is, after all, an army of Barbie Dolls and a brand new Barbie House from Santa Claus beckoning from a few short feet away.  So to get them to work – I had to resort to bribery.  Which, actually begs the question, “Why should we as parents have to, or even resort to bribing our children to do something they should be doing in the first place?”  My bribe?  I told them I would sit and “work” if they would sit and work, which I was going to do anyway and wanted to do in the first place.

So here I am, with pencil, paper, and hand cramp writing my latest blog posting the old-fashioned way.  I can’t remember the last time I actually sat down to hand write something and not type with the familiar hue of unnatural light emanating from my computer monitor.  But here I am and it’s all because of this year’s word – “quality!”

Quality is why I have chosen to sit and write with my kids as they are doing school.  Quality is why I am with them.  Quality is why we are together.

For me, today, and at this moment quality is about being with, being present, and sharing an experience together.  For my girls, quality will hopefully be about them remembering the time I took to “work” with them, alongside of them, and in front of them, rather than in my office across the city.

Please remember this about this post.  Words are powerful.  Words mean something.  Words can change things.  And in this case, my word for the year – quality – when defined as the degree of excellence of something – can really enhance other words.  For example, quality when used in conjunction with time becomes so much more!  After all, wouldn’t we all want quality time than just time?

This year quality is my word and quality is going to guide what I do.  It is going to be my modifier!  So let me ask you – what’s your word for 2012?  I would love to know!

Until next time…

Pastor Barry

Do You Believe…

So I have a confession to make – I pray.  Yep, it’s probably not everyday that you hear a pastor confess that he prays, but this one does.  I pray for everything and anything!  The problem is, I haven’t always believed when praying…that is until very recently.

Let me tell you a story…

A few weeks ago my wife and i decided to go and visit my grandma.  She is very ill and we thought it was important for our daughters to visit their great-grandmother at least one more time.  So we drove 8 hours south and visited.  It was a great time and we snapped even better pictures.  We visited, hugged, laughed, and prayed!  It was a good visit!

On the way back home we stopped at Knott’s Berry Farm to have some fun.  This is where my story really takes it’s turn.  We were, inside the park, having a great time.  We had just finished some rides and I was buying the family lunch while my wife was sitting at a table waiting for a show to start.  Our baby’s stroller?  It was right behind us. Nothing unusual or out of the ordinary.   We have always done this.  In fact everyone who has a stroller in these amusement parks has to park them somewhere at sometime. The next time you are in Disneyland I dare you to count the number of strollers parked outside of the Peter Pan ride!

So there we sat, eating and watching the show, having a great time.  The show ended, we got up, cleaned up, and loaded up.  Then my wife went to look for her phone (her Droid Samsung Charge to be specific) and couldn’t find it.  We searched and searched and searched.  Someone had stolen it from the stroller!  The rest of the time in the park….MISERABLE.  I immediately called Verizon and suspended our account and then quickly tried to remember all the “apps” that had been loaded.  ”Apps” that signed my wife into things like Netflix, Facebook, and GMail.  It was horrible.  We felt so violated.

Gone were the pictures of my girls, gone were some of the video my wife had taken of the girls,  gone were all her emails and text messages and ….  GONE!

So as a pastor I prayed.  I prayed that God would let us find her phone.  But you know what?  The whole time I was praying I was saying to myself, “Why are you praying?  Seriously?  The devil has control of someone who took that phone and it is long gone and probably sold on Craig’s List already.  Why are you praying.”

We left LA without her phone and came home. Three or four days later I was working around the church with my associate pastor when my phone rang.  Here is the conversation…

“Hello.”

“Mr. Kennard?”

“Yes.”

“Hi, this is (so and so) and I was wondering if you lost a phone.”

“No – but we had one stolen from Knott’s Berry Farm.”

“Oh.  Well I believe I have your phone.  My daughter says she found it on a bus…but I wondered.”

“Really?”

“Yes, is it a Samsung Charge?”

“Yes.”

“Well I have it and I was wondering if you could come pick it up.”

“Not really, that is 6 hours away.”

“OK I will ship it to you.  I’m a Christian and I want to the right thing.”

The conversation continued.  I gave my address.  Told her I was a pastor, prayed for her, hung up the phone and WEPT.

God had just slapped me upside the head and reminded me of something.  He told me that He was God and that He was in control and that He could do anything He wanted.  He then reminded me of my prayer and said, “You prayed but you didn’t believe.  But I have chosen to answer your prayer anyway.”  I cried more and then confessed my unbelief!

So I checked the mailbox daily.  No phone.  No phone. No phone.  Two weeks and no phone.  The devil started to play with my mind.  I had said now I believe you God, but did I really?  The phone was not showing up.  I had bought a replacement.  It was sitting at home.  I had 14 days to return it and I was waiting to open the phone.  I would return it when the other showed up.  But it wasn’t showing up.

In Genesis God tells Abraham that He is going to be the father or many nations.   He even says that Abraham’s faith was credited to him as righteousness.  He believed but believed even more AFTER he saw the fire consume the covenant offering.  Years later he was asked to give back his son.  Abraham believed and moved out.  He acted without questioning.

I had questioned.  I prayed and didn’t believe.  I got an answer to prayer and then began to doubt.  I was holding onto the new phone until the old phone actually arrived.  I felt God telling me…you still don’t believe…

So last Friday, I sent the phone back.  Still no stolen phone…

On Monday – guess what was in the mailbox…my wife’s phone.  I fell before the Lord and confessed my unbelief once again.  I believe…I really do.  God did a work in this pastor and I am here to tell you.  Believe because prayer works!

Until next time,

Pastor Barry

 

What Are You Doing…

I just have to write this morning.  I am in the office on a beautiful Saturday morning and I am supposed to be putting the finishing touches on the sermon and service for this weekend.  But God has interrupted me…I love it when He does that.

Yesterday I had the opportunity to take a little time to do some site seeing.  My parents are in town from Washington State and they wanted to take a drive.  After all, the Monterey Peninsula is truly one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen.  So we drove…  We drove down Cannery Row and watched all the people as they hustled about.  We passed the Coast Guard Dock, some very fancy hotels, a few artisan shops, some chain restaurants and snack shops, the Monterey Bay Aquarium, and even the outlet stores.

We continued down the road around Asilomar State Beach and Campgrounds and then into Pebble Beach and the famed 17 -Mile Drive.  Oh my!  The vistas are incredible.  God’s creation is amazing!  And then there were the houses…castles on the coast I should call them.  Towering, impressive, built of stone, and surrounded by tall fences and thick gates.  Who ever was living there had every intention of keeping people out.

Then today I was on the way here and God reminded me of a handful of individuals who serve breakfast in the park every Saturday morning.  There was a parking spot so I pulled over and tried to find them.  Pretty easy when you just follow the hungry…

I met David, Miracle Joe, Michael Scott (he tells me he had the name first), and several others who had a smile on their face and their worldly possessions in their bags.  They lined up for a hot breakfast and cold sandwiches.  They went through bins of clothing and even a small “library” for a book to read.  They brought their bikes and they had them tuned up.  They laughed, talked, smiled, and were extremely polite and very grateful.

We finished…I got in my truck and I drove here….my office…where I had to open up my computer and write…to process with you the reader…whoever you are.  You see God interrupted me this morning and I just had to share.  It’s just one thought.  One idea and concept that all of us have to answer.  Especially those in the Church of Jesus Christ.  You see, in the last 24 hours I have seen both ends of the spectrum.  I have seen those that have incredible amounts of money and stuff….and I have seen those that don’t.

And so the question God is having me wrestle with this morning is, “What are you doing with what you have been given?”  Don’t get me wrong – I truly believe it is OK to have, but we have to ask ourselves what are we doing with what we have been given.  Are we being good stewards with God’s blessings?

Me? I need to continue to get better at this.

Until next time…

Pastor Barry

Tools and Tool Boxes…

As many of you know…and others should be able to figure out…I recently moved.  This was no easy task.  In fact it was rather difficult.  But my family had some great help on both ends of the journey and we could not have done ANY of it by ourselves.  Well – maybe – except that we would still be in the process more than we already are because you can put a lot of items into a house.  While packing the stuff just kept appearing out of closets, cupboards, and who knows where.

Some things were hard to pack like the drum set for my WII Rock Band Game and other things were easy.  Probably the easiest thing to pack was my tool chest.  It was my grandfathers and it is mostly loaded with tools from him and my other grandpa.

Both men were “tinkerers” of sorts.  One repaired televisions and organized every screw he ever came across into little glass baby food jars.  He would mount the lids in such a fashion so that you could screw and unscrew the glass jar from a shelf above his workbench in order to access the contents.  Really kinda cool!  The other was a mechanic.  Technically, he worked for the railroad and was a consultant in overhauling diesel engines.  He could bring any engine back to life…no matter if it was a lawnmower, a Corvair that had been sitting in a shed for 40 years, or a huge ocean going container ship.

I have great memories of th0se guys…and when I open my tool chest…it is their hands I see…

But as I mentioned, that tool chest was easy to pack.  Close the lid – lock the drawers – and wheel it outside.  Unloading was just as easy!  And I am glad it was.  Because I needed stuff out of it.  We needed to unpack boxes and put together beds and hang pictures and….well, you get the point.  And the tools I needed were in that chest.

There are a lot of tools in there, which allow me to do a lot of things.  There are your standard screw drivers, wrenches, and pliers – but there are also tools that are highly specific and do just one thing.  Like the tool that pulls the wheel bearing out of the axel on your car….yeah…I have one of those.  Doesn’t do me any good because I never paid attention when my dad and grandpa showed me how to use it.  But I have one!

So the other night I sat putting together a bed and I was thinking about the tool I was using and then thinking about all the people that were helping us unpack.  People from the church.  Each one different.  Each one with a different talent.  Each one designed to do just the right thing.  Paul wrote about this in 1 Corinthians 12:12-27 (NLT)

¹² The human body has many parts, but the many parts make up one whole body. So it is with the body of Christ. ¹³ Some of us are Jews, some are Gentiles,* some are slaves, and some are free. But we have all been baptized into one body by one Spirit, and we all share the same Spirit.* ¹⁴ Yes, the body has many different parts, not just one part. ¹⁵ If the foot says, “I am not a part of the body because I am not a hand,” that does not make it any less a part of the body. ¹⁶ And if the ear says, “I am not part of the body because I am not an eye,” would that make it any less a part of the body? ¹⁷ If the whole body were an eye, how would you hear? Or if your whole body were an ear, how would you smell anything? ¹⁸ But our bodies have many parts, and God has put each part just where he wants it. ¹⁹ How strange a body would be if it had only one part! ²⁰ Yes, there are many parts, but only one body. ²¹ The eye can never say to the hand, “I don’t need you.” The head can’t say to the feet, “I don’t need you.” ²² In fact, some parts of the body that seem weakest and least important are actually the most necessary. ²³ And the parts we regard as less honorable are those we clothe with the greatest care. So we carefully protect those parts that should not be seen, ²⁴ while the more honorable parts do not require this special care. So God has put the body together such that extra honor and care are given to those parts that have less dignity. ²⁵ This makes for harmony among the members, so that all the members care for each other. ²⁶ If one part suffers, all the parts suffer with it, and if one part is honored, all the parts are glad. ²⁷ All of you together are Christ’s body, and each of you is a part of it.

Yep – the moral of this whole post is that we all have a job to do.  We have all been designed by God to do something for the Kingdom!  What did he design you to do?

Until Next Time…

Pastor Barry

Moving Day…

As I sat in the cab of a moving truck traveling a blistering 30 MPH up several mountain passes today I had a lot of time to think.  So I developed a top ten list of things everyone should know when you are moving…

10.  No matter how carefully you pack there will always be those last minute items that literally get thrown in the back of the truck.

9.  Those last minute items that you threw in will always fall out on your head when you reopen the door.

8.  No matter how much tape you buy…it will never be enough.

7.  Don’t pack those things that you might possibly need into a spot where they will be unable to reached for that “just in case” moment.

6.  When you plan to move prepare yourself to sell countless numbers of items (that weeks before you couldn’t live without) on Craigslist for pennies on the dollar for what you originally paid.

5.  Pack all of your remotes in the SAME box!

4.  This isn’t necessarily a moving only tip…but when crossing into California from Oregon you will have to stop and they will ask if you have any fruit, which I am sure has a great explanation as to why – but I will just choose to believe that they are hungry.

3.  For those long distance moves – the rest area you need….will be closed.

2.  Plan for the unexpected.

And the number one tip….

1.  When your child has only one pair of pajamas and falls into the bathtub in the hotel remember tips number 2, 7, and 9!

I actually had a more serious post about moving rolling around in my head….but after the event that lead to tip number one happened….

Until Next Time,

Pastor Barry

Childlike Faith…

I absolutely love being a dad!  The feeling that I get when I walk in the door to my home and my kids come running is indescribable.  I love the hugs and the kisses and the sheer joy I see on their faces!  Call me a “glass is half-empty kind of guy” but I’m pretty sure this won’t always be the case.  I can already see the difference in which my 21-month old daughter and my nine-year old daughter greet me.

But for now it makes me smile.  In fact, as I sit here, I can almost hear each of their voices, and feel each of their arms grabbing around my neck.  They love their dad.  I know it.  I can feel it.  And I love it…  But When will this enthusiasm stop?  Does it have to stop?

I have to ask myself – when was the last time I went running when my dad entered a room?  When was the last time I hugged my dad?  What changes?  Do we become too mature?  Too good? Too cool? I suppose it happens in all of our relationships.  We become too comfortable and take them for granted…  We begin to unconciously think, “This person is always here for me, it’s who they are, they have to be.”  Our childlike love and excitement goes away.  We grow up.  We know more.  We become complacent.

Recently, I was reading in Matthew 18 about children.  The disciples had asked Jesus about who was the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven and He used a child to answer their question.  He brought a little girl (it doesn’t really say girl – but I have girls – so I see this child as a little girl) and I imagine He picked her up and sat her on His lap.

She probably came to Jesus willingly…freely…arms open wide.  Perhaps she even gave Him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.  If it was my youngest she would have grabbed His face, looked Him square in the eyes, and then dove in with lips puckered for the the sweetest – slobbery kiss a person could hope for.

That image embodies Jesus’ point to the disciples.  This is an image of unconditional love, joy, and enthusiasm for a “dad” who loves us and loves that we love Him in return.  Jesus uses this image and teaches about a child like faith that is necessary to be great in the Kingdom of Heaven – and necessary to even enter Heaven in the first place.

We have to let go and return to those days of when we ran into the arms of our parents when they entered the room.  Those days long before we were embarrassed because we were too old.  Long before we were too cool to be seen hugging our dad.  Long before we began to take our relationships for granted.

I don’t know…maybe you are reading this today and you have never experienced any of this.  Never a parent, never had a good relationship with your parents, or never ran to Jesus with child like faith…but you can.  You can absolutely run to Jesus!

I need a hug!  I think I’m going to go find my daughters and my wife.  Let me encourage you to go and hug someone also.  Embrace it, hold it, and use it to remember that our Heavenly Father wants you to run to Him and hug Him too!

Until next time…

Pastor Barry

I’m Scared…

Ever think about fear?  Really think about it?  (I’m pretty sure this is not the way to grab your attention and make you want to read today’s blog…but I promise it gets better…but then again claiming something gets better is a relative statement…so it may not get better at all.  However, I can now sleep better having supplied this disclaimer!)

The other night my middle daughter was sitting and eating an ice cream cone and said, “Oh great!  Tonight I am going to have a nightmare.”  She was fearful.  And unfortunately, she has come to associate something so wonderful (in this case a butterscotch dipped vanilla ice cream cone from Dairy Queen late in the evening) with something very distressing.”

And sure enough, call it a self-fulfilling prophecy, later that night around 2 in the morning this little person appeared in my bedroom and crawled in bed with her mother and I.  She said, “I just had a nightmare.” Really?  What can cause a six-year old to have a nightmare?  Do they even know what a nightmare is?  What in her little world is so scary?  Maybe everything?

It’s been a long time since I was that age and I really only remember being afraid three times.  All of which actually occurred…

The first was when I thought I would get the wrong answer on the English test.  The teacher would show us a picture, say the word, and then we had to tell the vowel – something like recognizing the difference between pen and pin.

The second was Valentine’s day and I was afraid I wouldn’t get any valentines.  Or worse yet – I would get the dreaded this is meant for a girl valentine, but I don’t have enough meant for a boy valentines and I have to give one to everyone so you get this one valentine.

And thirdly, (is thirdly even a word) I was afraid of missing the bus (which I did), not because I didn’t know where to go – I knew I could walk there – but because I would miss playtime (and did) with my friends.  I wasn’t afraid of the fact that I would have to walk a couple of miles by myself, along a busy road, and totally unaware of how vulnerable I was to….well….everything.  I also remember my mom’s fear…by the time she found me she was really worked up.

But back to the other night, there was Kara – having to snuggle up in the safety and security of her parent’s bed.  Here it was safe and here it was peaceful…

Writing this has made me think about fear’s definition and struggling to know – for sure – if I can define it properly.  Sure I know what it is, I know it when I have it, and I know how it makes me feel, but can I accurately define it for someone else? Since I’m not sure I will go look it up…

Fear can be both a verb and a noun.  As a verb it is defined as, “Being afraid of (someone or something) as likely to be dangerous, painful or threatening.”  As a noun it is defined as, “An unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.”

Basically…fear is distressing…

But honestly as Christ followers, we don’t have to fear.  We really don’t!  In 2 Timothy 1:7 we read, “For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.”   Yay, God!  If God is for us then who can be against us?  And what do we have to be afraid of?

Nothing, zero, zilch…

So the next time you are afraid of something, remember in whose hand you rest.  In Him you can find peace and safety.

Until next time…

Pastor Barry

Community…

Last summer I took a group of youth on a short-term mission trip.  We had the opportunity to travel to El Paso, Texas and run some soccer camps.   As I look back I have to laugh at this for two reasons:  First – only a few of us had any experience with soccer and that was mainly with watching it on ESPN, and Second– we were holding camps in a community where children seem to be given soccer balls at birth.  Yep – most if not all – of the kids we worked with probably learned to kick a soccer ball long before they learned to walk…  Regardless, we had fun.

One of the things I noticed while there was how the families and the churches participated in community – they were WITH each other outside of their individual homes.  It seemed that no matter where we were, there were big groups gathering together, something that just doesn’t happen where I am from.  You just don’t see it here in the Pacific NW like I saw it there.  You can call it cultural or whatever you want, but me, I will call it awesome.

Last night we got together as a church outside of the building and in a local park.  It was great.  Many families were there and we brought games, food, and just hung out.  There was no agenda, no schedule, and no pressure to do anything but just be with each other.  It was intentional and it was fun (except for the part where I failed miserably in the game of kick ball – I will blame it on my age).  We scheduled it and made a point to gather together…

It got me thinking.  What does it mean to be in community with someone?  What does it mean to experience it?  Do we throw around the word community too much?  Has it lost its meaning?   I would like to know your thoughts.  What do you think?

Until next time…

Pastor Barry

My Way…

I have a confession to make. I like to count and find the patterns in things. Don’t ask me why – because I don’t know. It’s wierd really – I naturally see the relationship of things to each other…I see their number and I see patterns. And when I see wholeness or completeness I just feel a lot better. I suppose it is a little “Monkish” of me – or in reality it’s a lot “Monkish.” (And if you don’t know, by “Monkish” I am referring to the television program – Monk.)

My wife still teases me about my oldest daughter’s Fisher Price Farm. You know the kind with the round little people with big cheeks and infectious smiles. The toy that curiously comes with animals that are out of proportion to each other…really they are…those bunnies are half as big as the horses…that’s a monster bunny.

Anyhow, I love that thing. In fact, I think it was secretly developed to provide hours of enjoyment not only to preschoolers, but also to their parents. (After all they should be interacting with their children but that’s a different post.)

Here’s the thing about that toy – after my daughter would get through playing with it – I would HAVE to arrange each of the pieces, make sure they were all there, and put them back in their place. If there was one missing then the world had to stop until I found where it was. Sort of like the parables of the Lost Things in the Gospel. No…just like those parables, because when I found a missing piece there was definite rejoicing!

The good news is I have graduated from the Fisher Price Farm. I now resist the urge to check and see if all the pieces are there – call it having a third child! That toy has run its course and has been replaced by the infamous Mr. Potato Head. Make that two Mr. Potato Heads.

The other night my 19 month old got them out and began to play with them. As I watched her, I could hear my name being called out incessantly. Barry….Barry….  So I joined the party. We were having fun until, silly me, I directed my daughter to put the ear where the ear should go. This did not go over well. You see, she had a plan and a design in mind and it did not match mine. After a long discussion that looked more like a game of keep away I let her put the ear where she wanted to put the ear. What I discovered is that she had a definite plan – and it wasn’t at all like mine.

At that moment God chose to remind me that, when left to my own will, this is my natural tendency for how I want to live my life. I want to do the things I want to do, when I want to do them, and how I want to do them. But, it’s not my life anymore. Sometime ago, I made the decision to not live for myself or for my way or for my desires. Sure, they are still there – they don’t magically go away – but I chose to yield them to God’s plan, His timing, and His way.

So that night, as I sat and looked at a Mr. Potato Head with two sets of eyes, a mouth under one ear, and a nose under the other, I was reminded that I have to yield my desires. We all have to yield our desires. Often, because what we desire, or what we are planning, do not match up with what someone else is planning.  It happened that night….and if we are honest with ourselves it happens more often than we would care to think about.  It truly is like the Bible tells us – there should be less of us and more of Him.

Father God, would you grant me the wisdom to know your plans for me, the courage to follow them, and the patience to wait on you… Lord – it’s not my way but your way! Thank you and amen.

Until next time…

Pastor Barry