I finally finished putting together our crib today. Its a nice looking crib, probably even close to worth the money we paid for it. But it wasn’t an easy task, for me at least.

The mattress support bars didn’t fit. They weren’t quite long enough to attach to the wooden frame. So I called customer service, aka the “Crib Keeper,” and I talked to a woman. Kind of humbling I must admit. I was feeling so masculine putting the darn thing together.

Anyhow, I told them that my mattress support was too short. I figured it was “their” problem. But she gently explained that people call in all of the time with the same complaint. It was probably “my” problem. A pictorial email shortly arrived to my inbox that explained everything.

I guess I hadn’t followed the directions as carefully as I had thought. There were 4 attachments which I assumed were interchangeable. They weren’t, and when I put the right ones in the right place, I had new life. I had a fully functioning crib.

Basically she explained to me that I was wrong; it was my fault, not their fault. But she did it with gentleness and respect. She even told me if that didn’t fix the problem to call them back (but she was pretty sure the email would expose my error). I’m reminded of Peter’s challenge in his first epistle to “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect…(I Peter 3:15)”

Respect goes a long way in pointing people to the truth. Folks listen better when they are shown respect and gentleness. I know I do. So the “Crib Keeper’s” demeanor was both refreshing and convicting.

Amy doesn’t want to know what kind of baby we’re having. By kind, I mean sex. I do. But since she’s the one carrying the child, I really don’t get a vote. Kind of like Florida democrats, I guess-although I’m not really up to date, so feel free to let me know. Someone did buy her an “It’s A Girl” picture frame at her shower yesterday. Perhaps that will be prophetic. If not, a good friend reminded her she could just use a Sharpie to write in “It’s NOT a girl.” Not a bad idea. Hopefully Little T will have a sense of humor if Little T is a dude.

But as I was driving home from church, I pondered not the sex of the child, but how our life would change based upon the presence or lack of that ever popular external organ. Seriously.

Our life will move in different directions based upon its presence. Who we develop friendships with outside the church will often be connected with where our child’s interests land. Baseball or softball? Even if it is basketball (our kid is probably going to be tall-Little T already has long legs), is it boy’s or girl’s basketball? We’ll probably be most connected to other parents with kids of the same sex.

Now of course there is one non-negotiable constant: fishing. Boy or girl, when that kid can walk, I’m going to do all that is within my power give him/her “sea legs.”

But regardless, I just think its interesting that who we meet and hang out with will probably be determined by the sex of the child. Fortunately the sex of the child has already been determined by the great baby knitter (Psalm 139). So I needn’t worry myself with all of the relational and ministerial ramifications springing from its sex.

I used to listen to a band called Vertical Horizon. They were an acoustic guitar duo before they turned to the dark side of trendiness, leather pants, and pop music. Now they’re famous, popular, but not really as good (or course in my opinion). Ironically they sang a song called “Famous” with these lyrics (I wish they would have taken their own advice):

Oh I know
The wind is gonna blow
And in the winter
There’s sure to be snow
But with the warmth of your smile
And the sun of your face
Shine on me in the darkness
With your love and grace
And if time hides my eyes
Listen to my music and recognize

Chorus:
I don’t want to be famous in life
I don’t want to be famous in the world
I just wanna be famous
Famous
I want to be famous in your heart

I thought of this song the other day, because I have to admit I want to be famous. Steve Brown once told me that my writing is good, but “no publisher will take it because I’m not already famous.” He was just being honest, which is one thing I love about him.

Anyhow, I met a man in the gym-this all connects if you can stay with me-whose name I recognized. Someone told me that he played football and I immediately recognized he played defensive end for the Indianapolis Colts. Wow. But they told me I couldn’t say anything because he doesn’t want anyone to know. He doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s famous! So I can’t mention his name here.

That’s honestly something I struggle with. I would love to be famous. I really would. Not just so I could be published, but simply famous. I have to confess it a lot. But the reason I struggle with it so much is because I don’t believe the lyrics of this Vertical Horizon song: “I just want to be famous in your heart.” But if Jesus did come and die for me, has seated me in the heavenly realms (Eph 2:6), and knows the hairs on my head (Matt 10:30), then that’s pretty famous.
Famous in His heart. That ought to be good enough. Things I learned from pop stars and an NFL player.

During our session meetings, we usually bring up some sort of budget stuff: to see how things are going financially. Looking at all the numbers, I’m usually fairly overwhelmed-not because numbers were too small-because I didn’t really know what they meant.

Well, last night, I started to understand some of them. Then I realized how thankful I am that I don’t have to understand them perfectly. People in the church have different gifts. While preaching and teaching are very ‘up front’ public gifts, every gift is just as important as the next. And when you don’t have administrative gifts or abilities to run budgetary stuff, you become incredibly thankful for those who do. Churches don’t work without such people.

I hate radio commercials. They are like 10 times worse than TV commercials in my opinion. But there is always an exception that proves the rule: the “Real Men of Genius” commercials. They say, “We salute you Mr. really really short basketball shorts wearer” or things like that.

They’re sarcastic of course. But seriously, I do salute you Mr. organized budget number crucher explainer guy. But even more so, I salute the one who gives various gifts to His church (Eph 4). No church would survive on my gifts alone, nor yours either (though you may have more than I), nor the gifts of a few. We need them all. Yet another reason to become a regular part of a local church-though I didn’t plan on making that point. Last night, I was just especially thankful for the gifts that God gives His church.

On this Sunday afternoon around 3 pm, a few visitors stopped by our church. Actually, they were here to paint. Now normally that is good news, because our church is being painted now, but these were really not the painters/visitors we’d been praying for. They carried cans of lovely blue spray paint.

Something that Al Queda and gangs have in common is that they always take ‘credit’ for the bad things they do. Such was the case this time at it was spray-painted on the wall. Fortunately for us, we are in the process of painting, so it really wasn’t that big of a deal: someone just painted over it with the off-tope color of the newly painted other buildings.

Anyhow, these same hoodlums (he could hear their conversations) had been here before and painted “No Surremacy” on the walls.

I have several thoughts on the matter.

1.) Is there a special place in Hell for folks who steal from and vandalize churches? I think there easily could be but I shan’t take the time to explain. But do I deserve to be there for my sins, seeing as my heart has been made alive and I still continue to sin? Of course.

2.) How should I think of folks who do such things? The apostle Paul did much worse than vandalize the church; he arrested early Christians and approved their executions (Acts 8:1). And Jesus looked with compassion upon those crucified him. While I will not overlook justice for these spray-painting Latino gang members (I hope they get locked up), I think I should feel more compassion for these lost folks then dreaming of catching them in the act and beating them up (my first reaction/dream). They are young and desperately want to fit in this gang, this surrogate family. And that ought to make us sad. They really have more in common with us all than we would normally think. People wanting to fit in with other people who really don’t care about them. How common is that? About as common as air.

I hate it when people steal. Stealing of materials (like lawn mowers, cars, or illegal downloads) or material (ideas from people like jokes or even biblical insight-WHEN they have PROPER time/need to give reference; just my personal opinion). So I’ll tell you this up front: someone pointed out something really cool to me the other day during my discussion leading “Training Day.”

Now that I got that off my chest, and can limit my hypocrisy (all people are hypocrites I think-just to what degree), I want to share with you something I think is pretty cool. It concerns personal evangelism strategy.

Some people think they they can live godly, near perfect lives, in front of others in hopes that this near perfect life would make those around them say-in a nutshell-“Tell me about Jesus because I want this life that you’re living.” But if you study the gospels carefully, you’ll see that this strategy didn’t work for Jesus. His brothers and even his mother (yes even mother Mary) were concerned about his sanity (Mark 3:20-ff). It wasn’t until after Jesus’ resurrection that we see his brother James really come on to the scene.

Since the perfect life strategy didn’t work for Jesus, it shouldn’t be our M.O. The Jesus-centered life of faith and repentance is something people don’t see very often. And they want to. So relax if you ‘mess up’ and repent. Repenting is more likely to get others thinking than this attempt at near-perfection. Going and repenting is more Jesus-centered than staying and trying to be good. Who knows, you may one day point them to Jesus, and not yourself….?

We had another neighborhood cookout, or rather “smoke-out,” this Saturday. The last smoke-out involved someone’s car. This time we switched to beef.

And some folks came. And some folks stayed inside their houses. Trying to get people to get to know each other is like trying to get kids to eat vegetables. The only difference is that you can’t load neighbors up with ranch dressing or a pound of butter to make them ‘taste’ better.

However there really are those who want to live in community. And the number is growing: we had two first time households. One of those folks actually has a passion for smoking meat. Just a few days ago he was wondering if our neighborhood ever had a block party so he could smoke out. And then came a flyer to his mailbox. He will be replacing my burgers from now on. Even though the beef arrived an hour late, it was well worth the wait.

He not only brought the meat, but several members of his family. And his arrival reminded me that people really do appreciate these cookouts. He actually wanted to get to know his neighbors. And I have to believe there are more out there just like him. While we lacked the quantity of our previous cookouts, I was reminded that the friendships we’re building through these opportunities far surpasses my anxieties regarding them. Everyone who God planned to show up, did just that. And we all enjoyed our time together. Well worth it.

I just finished my personal bible study in Ephesians recently and decided to take a road less traveled and hit up some of the minor prophets. They are very difficult to understand, and one really does need some sort of reference tool like a study bible or commentary to really understand what’s happening. That’s just the price we pay for being 21st century Gentiles. But that’s fine with me: I don’t think I would fare too well back in the ‘old days.’

Anyhow, I came across a verse that seemed very relevant and comforting for a 21st century Bradentonian (or anyone living in Florida) during the months of November through March. Check it out:

Joel 2:20 “I will remove the northerner far from you, and drive him into a parched and desolate land…

Here was my first thought, “Great, traffic will finally be better now in Bradenton!” Now I have nothing against the Northerners being down here during winter time per se. They keep our economy floating, I think. But for traffic purposes-and the hope of waiting under an hour to be seated at Olive Garden-most residents here would be glad when the Lord ‘removes’ them from us.

It would be fairly ludicrous to interpret this verse to refer to Florida’s winter residents. I think all of you would agree (though many Floridians begrudgingly, as though you wish I were on to something). While this example is hyperbolic, folks do like to pick and choose isolated verses to support personal agendas that have nothing to do with the context.

God’s word is a sword. But we must be careful and responsible in interpreting it. Improper interpretation of God’s word can cut people in a bad way: either by weighing them down with pharisaical burdens or moving them away from the church.

This morning I was reading an article in my ever-s0-informative Florida Sportsman (I actually got one SAT answer correct because I knew what the word ‘burly’ meant as I saw it describing some big redfish-true story). Usually the magazine lasts about 5 minutes, but today it outlived its normal shelf-life and provided some actual useful insight (when I say useful, I don’t mean that it actually helped me catch a fish; I’m not sure I’ve caught one fish because of that magazine).

Let me explain. The article discussed a family of fish called Grunts. Grunts (which obviously ‘grunt’) hang around Grouper and they are the other species of fish most caught when targeting Grouper. My family doesn’t like to eat them because they are 90% head and 10% rest of body. Not good odds for getting meat. Of course party boats (those with 20-50 anglers on them) catch the heck out of them and bring back long stringers. Again, not my bag.

So I was strangely intrigued why someone would write an article about “Grunts.” I succumbed to my curiosity and proceeded to read until I found this Grunt ‘fun fact.’ The juvenile Porkfish, a member of the Grunt family (what an honor) spend time cleaning the mouths of large grouper. To clean a grouper’s mouth, these young porkfish have to actually swim inside the mouth. Obviously. And yet they do so without ‘fear.’ They don’t get eaten. How crazy is that?

Grouper, in case you don’t know or care, eat ANYTHING that they can fit in their mouth. That’s why they are terrible for aquariums. They eat all the fish, because all the fish can fit in their huge mouths. You can catch Grouper on fried chicken sometimes. They are not picky. I’ve caught many a grouper on several different species of Grunt before. But I’ll never try to use small porkfish if given the opportunity.

This is actually going somewhere, believe it or not. How do Grouper know that the juvenlie porkfish are there to clean? How many were eaten before they understood that you just don’t eat ‘the maid?’ How could this process evolve on its own? I mean Grouper suck down everything. They suck down every other fish. Bigger members of the grouper family (called Jewfish or Goliath Grouper to be P.C.) suck down other Grouper.

Its a fish-eat-fish world out there, at least in most cases. But not this one. I applaud God on His creation. I’ll try not to look at Grunts (at least some Grunts) in the same light anymore.

I remember the first time I heard the word ‘hermeneutic:’ I was a junior in a college bible study. I didn’t like the sound of it. But I later learned it simply means the science/method of interpretation. That sounds more like me.