For Love of the Game

Every summer day I come home these neighborhood boys are playing baseball in a nearby yard.  Their dedication and passion bring back some sweet memories for me.  I relish watching them play.  Backyard baseball is a dying sport.  Their passion for the game is rare for their demographic.   Most kids have moved inside to online games played on tablets/iPads, Xbox, PlayStation, or they spend so much time in camps, training and being part of a traveling team in a single sport that they don't have time to just "play" in the yard.


My generation of boys hated to be inside in the summer.  It killed us if we had to play inside on a rainy day.  There were too many home runs to hit, balls to catch, baskets to shoot, or hook routes to run.  We played baseball, basketball and football like we were Joe Namath, Bob Gibson and Wilt Chamberlain.  Our parents would have to call us in for lunch and dinner because we spent so much time playing outside.

David, Brian, Tim, DeWayne, Scott, Robbie and I played wherever and whenever we could.  We were baseball crazy.  Not only could we play we knew the stats of all the Big Leaguer's and it wasn't from the Internet.  We got the stats off their baseball cards.  When we weren't playing we were trading and collecting cards of our favorite players like: Pete Rose, Hammerin' Hank, Seaver, Carlton, the Yaz,  Maury Wills, Frank Robinson, Willie Stargell, Clemente, George Brett, Rollie, Catfish and many more.

We road our bicycles everywhere.  Baseball gloves were strapped on the handlebars as we went from one end of the neighborhood to the other.  Of all the games we played one was constant for us and it was baseball.  It was true and pure.  When there weren't enough to play a game we would play catch, or a game of "hotbox" pretending we were chasing down a runner in a big league game.  Other days we would chase fly balls in the outfield as one of us would hit.  It was a simpler time.

The game always brought us back for another day.  What brings you back for another day?  Your faith, family, job, or a place of service?  Like the boys in the backyard who wake up every summer day chomping to play ball, what burns in your belly that can only be satisfied through that one thing?

For Christ-followers this is about purpose.  Our purpose enables us to make God known through whatever we do.  The Apostle Paul got this concept when he wrote in Colossians 3:23-24-

Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward.  You are serving the Lord Christ.

What brings you back every day?

My Barnabas

Sunday 7/27 will be a year since my friend and fellow pastor, Charlie Summey lost his battle with glioblastoma.  He was only 45 years old.  Charlie's 16-month battle with this vicious brand of cancer was heroic.  He knew he had a death sentence and eventually ceased treatment opting for palliative care and the desire to die with dignity.  His final months showed us how to live.

We shared calling, second-career ministers, the same oncologists, a wicked sense of humor, books, a love for golf, all things college basketball (although our teams were foes) and a passion for broken and wounded people.  A few weeks before he was confined to bed I took him out for coffee.  I could tell he was tired and he was repeating some things, but I remember his courage and the pragmatic way he faced death as a long awaited prize.  The act of dying was not something he sought, but dying and being with Jesus was something he longed for.  He was open and direct about it.  We talked about the culmination of our faith and how much pain this world has compared to the promises we have in Christ.  He was living to die and dying to live.  I remember the tears that flowed from his eyes as he described leaving his bride, Julie and children, Becca and Adam.  He was so proud of them and loved them deep.

I still remember the late December night he called me from a Charlotte hospital saying they had found a tumor in his head.  He was classic Charlie, full of humor, honesty and faith.  I remember quoting the lyrics of a Rich Mullins song to him and praying together.  He chose that song to be sung at his life celebration service.  The next day we drove to Charlotte to see him in the Neuro ICU.

The week before I saw him at Starbucks after he had just run 5 miles!  I was about to finish my radiation treatments and the end of my cancer treatments.  We had no idea he was about to run the race of his life.  And so, "Running With Charlie," stickers and wristbands started popping up all over Greenville.  His race involved brain surgery at Duke, PT and OT rehab, chemo and radiation.

The last time I saw Charlie we watched the British Open together and shared stories of our favorite golfers.  He was weak and barely drinking water.  Before leaving and praying together he asked if I would pray for Julie and the kids.  I don't remember what I said, but I do remember holding his hand and head as we both cried through that prayer.  A week later our mutual friend, Amy called and gave me the news of his passing as I was about to speak at a church in Kentucky.  I couldn't believe it happened so soon.  He beat the national average, but the final months had flown and I simply couldn't accept it was time.

His life celebration service was Charlie to a tee, especially the jazzy version of "When the Saints Go Marchin' In".  I still miss him.  I still haven't erased his contact information from my phone.   He had been one of my strongest supporters and encouragers during my battle with cancer.  I guess deep within, despite knowing better, I thought I could encourage him and be present for his victory and one day when we were old men we would laugh about it all.

Charlie, you fought like hell.  You modeled grace, dignity, faith, transparency and grit.  I miss our chats, your jokes and funny stories.  I miss your encouragement.  You were in many ways my Barnabas.  Hold my spot bro and catch me up when I get there.  You are gone, but not forgotten and forever in our hearts!

Our Cancer Battle Song:
(Rich Mullins)
We'll sometimes my life just don't make sense at all
When the mountains look so big
And my faith just seems so small

So hold me Jesus 'cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace 

Don't Run From Your Roots

Remember where you came from!  A lot of people spend much of their life running from their family history or past.  My home and office have important reminders of my simple roots.  I don't ever want to forget that I came from simple, but honest people.  A miner's coal lamp and a lamp made from an empty bourbon bottle in my office remind me of my roots.  

 While I was born at a hospital in Louisville, Kentucky, we actually lived in a little hamlet in Nelson County called Cox's Creek.  Dad pastored a small church and we lived in a two-story parsonage near the church.  Nelson County is the home of bourbon.   Tobacco was the other big export in an area where the soil was ideal.   While an easy target of critics today, Kentucky natives know that tobacco and bourbon tax dollars built a lot of churches, schools and libraries in the Commonwealth.   Our church had many tobacco, cattle and pig farmers.  They were honest and hard working families who cared about their community and country.  Simple people who believed in God and were trying to make the world a better place by helping others.  And yes there were a few characters.

Both of my grandfathers worked in coal mines.  My maternal grandfather worked in the eastern coal mines while my paternal grandfather worked in the western mines.   If I remember correctly, I think my paternal grandfather was actually kicked out of the mines when child labor laws were passed and had to wait before he returned.  He repeatedly told my father growing up that he never wanted to catch him in a mine.  He knew how tough and dangerous mining could be and he wanted something better for Dad.  He wanted him to get a college education.  He lived long enough to see Dad get a college degree, a masters and his doctorate!  

Before he worked in the mines my maternal grandfather helped make moonshine.  Yes hooch!  Although illegal it provided an income for the poor families in the hills of east Kentucky.  He would probably laugh at all the legal moonshine distilleries popping up across the south these days.  This picture was taken of my grandfather (he is on the left) by a still.  I think my Mom said he was 18 at the time.  He went on to work in the mines and was later courted by big timber firms in the south because he could tell you anything you wanted to know about trees.  So my roots are found in coal miners and moonshiners!  For the record I've never worked in a coal mine and I've never made moonshine, but I didn't have to because their sacrifices enabled both of my parents to pursue higher education.  

I don't run from my past.  I've learned to celebrate it.  More importantly, I've come to realize just what the Apostle Paul meant when he described the past in regard to God's present work and call in our lives in 1 Corinthians:

26 My brothers, remember what you were when God chose you. Not many of you were wise by the way people look at it. Not many of you had power. Not many of you came from a family with a big name. 27 But God chose things that look foolish to the people of the world. He has used those foolish things to put the wise people to shame. God chose the weak things to put to shame the strong people. 28 And God chose the small things, things that people despise. Yes, he chose even the things which seem to be nothing. He did this to destroy the big things. 29 He did this so that people would not be proud before God.30 You are God's children through Christ Jesus. Christ came from God and made us wise. He put us right with God. He made us holy. He set us free from our wrong ways.

Every person has a unique story because it's their story.  No one else shares your exact story.  Perhaps you are one of those people that wants their past to go away.  You have spent more time trying to hide it, or get away from it.  Maybe you run in circles or associate with accomplished people your parents or formative family would've never met.  Maybe you battle a family history of abuse, addiction, or mental illness.  To be sure those are tough memories.  However, they don't have to define you.  They are simply part of who you are today.  You can even make peace with a broken past and I have a mother whose adult life is a testimony to God's incredible ability to bring transformation.  

More importantly, who are you becoming with God's grace?  Paul says that we shouldn't despise small beginnings because God uses the small, simple and humble to bring glory to His name.  Don't seek ways to cover or hide the past.  Instead, we need to ask this question in light of Paul's words:  How can we use our past to shape and inform our present and future to bring glory to God?  Now that's a question worth answering!  

Just think, one day our children, grand and great grand children will recall our history and it's impact on their life.  What are we building?  What kind of roots are we putting down for them and succeeding generations?  

Be Prepared, Be Ready

On a recent trip to Kentuckiana (Tri-state area along the Ohio River) I was able to get in some evening fishing.  I was flipping a jig in weed-laden waters and on the third cast a jumbo largemouth bass chomped on the lure.  He was about 4-5lbs., and a beauty.  As usual I released him to live to fight another day.  The small lake is behind a buddy's home and I was just playing around not expecting too much.  Right after I caught him I caught another healthy sized, but smaller bass.  Two in less than an hour!

Fishing can be feast or famine.  I can't recall the number of times we've loaded the boat, mapped out our route on a big lake and come up empty-handed after 4-6 hours.  Other times we've hit the mother load.  You can't control the response of fish.  You can create presentations and settings that make the conditions more favorable to catch fish, but unless you have dynamite you can't make the fish bite your lure.  Sometimes it's the type, or color of your lure, the pressure, temperature or color of the water.  We've had days when we slay'd fish in the pouring rain and days when the only thing we caught were a good soaking.  Again, fish determine their response and do what they do when they want.

Life is a lot like fishing.  Some days you bring in a haul of unexpected encouraging moments and other days seem to bring one challenge after another.  The key in fishing and in life is being ready.  You have to be ready to take what comes, the good and the bad.  The key is how we respond.  If I invest a half day in fishing on the lake and come up empty-handed am I going to be angry, disappointed, or frustrated?  Or, will I celebrate the fact that I got to fish with my son, or a friend?

Remember the story in the Luke's gospel when Jesus calls the first disciples?  They had been fishing all night without any success.  Jesus tells them to cast their nets to the other side.  Despite Simon Peter's protest they fish the other side and their boat is overwhelmed with a record haul of fish.   And the text says they immediately dropped their nets and followed Jesus.  Peter learned a valuable lesson that day.  Fishing with Jesus is better than fishing alone.  Life with Jesus is better than life without Him.

Life with Jesus doesn't mean less surprises, disappointments, or challenging times.  A good case could be made that they will actually increase when we follow Him.  However, life with Jesus means our response to whatever happens is more balanced.  We learn to accept what life brings and because we are prepared like a master fisherman we aren't blown away by every surprise, good or bad.

As I've aged I have come to realize that every time I get to fish it's a privilege.  It is an act of pleasure that I "get to do," instead of something I "have to do."  Regardless of the outcome (empty live-well, or a record haul of fish) I enjoy it.  Sure I have disappointing days when I miss a big fish, but I remind myself I'm fishing.  I come prepared and I am always ready to catch fish.  Maybe we need to remind ourselves more often that we "get to" live with purpose.  We can choose to respond with gratitude, or confidence because we are prepared for the journey in Christ.  So don't give up, keep trying and "cast your nets to the other side."

P.S. If you throw back always take pictures so you can validate your "fish" story!

Say "When"

When pouring a glass of sweet tea my paternal grandmother used to say, “Say when”.   For those who aren’t used to the expression it just means that you would let her know when she had poured enough tea in your glass.   Theatre, sitcoms and movies have used that phrase over the years to pull off an old, but great comedy bit resulting in an overflowing glass or wet lap because someone forgot to say, “when,” or the person pouring got distracted.  

Life can be like the glass of sweet tea.  Sometimes it fills so fast and if we don’t say, “when,” it spills over and makes a big mess.  Perhaps you are already there.  Life just keeps coming and you find yourself taking hit after hit with little, or no time to respond.  Your glass is overflowing and now it’s dripping from the table onto to the floor.  You try to clean up the mess, but it keeps raining down.  You have to know when to say “when”.   

Divorce, substance abuse, compulsive behaviors, broken relationships and, a pattern of short-term jobs, or residences can nearly always be traced to a failure to say “when”.    Human nature tends to accept more than we can handle.  Our appetites are nearly always bigger than our bellies.  So we cram more and more into our lives.  Family, work, play, physical/emotional health and even church life suffer when we keep piling more onto the pile.  

Everything has a saturation point.  Even good /healthy things can be trouble.   Believe it or not, I can golf or fish too much.  I can’t believe I just wrote that!  Seriously, those offices of relaxation can become more like work when we are so driven by them.  Even running can be bad for us when we run so much we ignore the signs of physical wear and tear, or let it rob us of time with our family, etc.   By the way, I’m in no danger on the golf pail being too full when I only play 6-8 times a year!

Summer is a great time to say, “when!”  Things tend to be slower in the summer and we can let off the gas pedal and take stock.  Check your calendar and your bank statement.  What’s occupying the most space in those areas?  Are you spending too much time, or money on something that is about to eat your lunch?  Is the glass overflowing at work because you can’t draw boundaries to protect your marriage and family?  Despite being a Marxist, Sartre nailed when he said, “We are our choices.”  Are any of your choices resulting in a glass running over and spilling onto the floor?  Say, “When!”