The Most Wonderful Woman

It’s been exactly two years since I posted The Most Incredible Woman. We were in Honduras and it was Cathy’s birthday. 

We’d lost everything we owned in a landslide just two days before. Most people are baffled that the experience of losing all but our lives and being rendered homeless in the third world became one of the greatest blessings of our lives. Still, I had nothing to give her on her birthday. Nothing that would sufficiently express my love and gratitude that she is my wife. I wanted to tell the world about God’s goodness that is expressed in and through my bride. I did my best in a blog. I am attempting to do the same now.

Today is Cathy’s birthday

But I feel like it’s mine because she is the greatest gift that Lord has ever given me.  I may have more in the way of material things to give her this year. But nothing compares to what she has given me.

Our marriage is our ministry.

That’s what I tell people, especially young couples prone to the temptation of seeking their own significance in Jesus’s name. 

Quite often the message falls on deaf ears.

Ephesians 5 begins with Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children...and concludes with the mystery of one flesh that is marriage.  And while the church has often emphasized Wives, submit to their own husbands, as to the Lord, sometimes to the point of abuse, the overarching emphasis is Husbands, love their wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.  The chapter concludes with


Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.  This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church”.

There is no better or faster way to touch the heart of God and the mystery of Christ’s relationship with His church than in the context of marriage -no easier way to comprehend what God is doing in and through us the Bride of Christ.

The Rhino Refugee Camp 2016

We were in Northern Uganda ministering to South Sudanese refugees from yet another civil war. I was a videographer consumed with a self-appointed mission to be a voice for the voiceless. Naturally, I assumed Jesus had called me to teach South Sudanese orphans how to film. 

I Did.

I usually tell people that all I did in Harvest school was repent. The Lord had been stripping me of the idolatry of “my” ministry and “my” purpose when we got to Uganda.  Cathy was oblivious to the struggle that I could not articulate at the time and has an entirely different recollection. But I saw it as the lowest point in our marriage. Not because of any discernable problem between us. Rather what God showed me about myself revealed an inner jerk that Cathy had not seen. It made me fear for my marriage.  Alas the love of God shines brightest amid our repentance.

Ironically

At the end of the outreach, one of the base leaders asked these war-torn, traumatized children to say how each of the missionaries had impacted them.  Naturally, I expected to hear about videography. Instead, they unanimously agreed that they were most affected by our marriage.  They “saw how Cathy and I loved each other” and

“They wanted what we had”.

Our marriage is our ministry.

Everything else flows from there.

If you’ve read The Most Beautiful Woman then you know that Cathy was the forerunner in our mission work. I am Cathy’s husband – her covering. I was more like Joseph with Mary as she bore the Lamb of God.

On the mission field I never completely transcended my tendency to be the proverbial watchman on the wall always on patrol and or the one who just wants to ‘git er done. That’s fine when you have to haul hundred-pound bags of beans or sheets of tin roofing up the side of a mountain filled with potential banditos. But missions is about relationship, not just humanitarian projects. At the end of the day; who cares how many people you feed or house if the occupants are going to hell?

Thank God for my beautiful wife.

Where I am prone to bulldoze the one for sake of the mission, Cathy invariably stops for the one.

Honduras 2008

That said, she’ll bulldoze through whatever she must to get to the one.

Honduras 2020
Seley is a Lenca Indian girl with Cerebral Palsy.

Everywhere she goes she connects with others, especially children out of a pure and child-like heart.

Palestinian 7th graders in the Negev.
Cathy and her best friend Keisy in Honduras, 2020.

I had no intention of ever marrying again when I met Cathy. We became friends when she heard I might be her key to getting into the jail to minister. “Hi I’m Cathy” she began. “I heard you can tell me how to get into the jail.” “depends on how long you want to stay there…” I almost joked. We started ministering at the jail every Thursday night. Soon after we began hiking together.  She’d been fasting for ten days on the first hike. It was sixteen miles on the Kalalau trail on Kauai where we lived. She handled it like a Marine. Suffice it to say, I was more than a little impressed. Nine months later, we were engaged.

Only Cathy would marry a crazy guy like me to spend the next 12 years living with inmates and their children and then tell people that she

felt privileged and spoiled because of it.

I often joke that I had a crush on Marcia Brady as a kid.

I would have fallen head over heels in love with Cathy if I had met her as a kid.

By the grace of God, she didn’t meet me as a kid…

If you spend any time at all with Cathy then you know she is super sensitive to Holy Spirit, and she often cries when she worships, reads, or speaks God’s word, especially when speaking to those who don’t know they need Jesus.  

Make no mistake she is the reason for any favor I have with the Lord.

He who finds a wife finds a good thing and obtains favor from the LORD. Prov 18:22

Like a lot of parents with adult children these days we have a son who for reasons unknown to us abruptly stopped talking to her three years ago. It hurts me to watch her suffer as only a mother can.

I’m writing this in hope that he reads it.

But also to dispel any illusion that might lead people to believe we have all our proverbial ducks in a row.

We are just little children. 1 John 2

We have found that God teaches us various aspects of Himself through the process of our becoming identified with His heart via circumstances and relationships. Like Mary with Jesus in the movie The Passion of the Christ,

Sometimes Cathy struggles to let go.

Then she does it with patience, forgiveness, and grace.

She loves her son from a distance and prays that God will soften his heart.

It’s what God did and does with us.

After God and people, Cathy loves anything related to horses. We used to do equine-assisted discipleship at the children’s home where we lived for three years in Honduras.  As is the case with people Cathy was drawn to the most broken unwanted albeit ornery teenage horse named Diablo (the devil).

We renamed him Mr. Botangles.

A few fun facts that few people know about Cathy are that she was the Hawaii state Karate champion, she taught Kareem Abdul Jabar to windsurf, and taught our missionary dog Mariposa Loca to swim.

I could go on about all the things I love about my beautiful, fiery, passionate, insanely forgiving, Holy Spirit-filled wife and how she never ceases to amaze me – all the myriad things I have learned by simply watching her…  Still, there is one thing that I miss. 

I miss seeing the world through her eyes.

While video production was my forte.  Cathy loved still photography.  Her camera went everywhere with her on the mission field until it was swept away in the landslide. Photography is an easy way to connect with people in the third world if for no other reason than many people have never seen a photograph of themselves or their family.

Cathy never missed an opportunity

She has an uncanny ability to peer into people’s eyes and capture their souls.  Unfortunately, nearly five years’ worth of photos were buried under the mud. Thankfully I produced and uploaded this slideshow just before the mountain came down. 

If it doesn’t bring a tear to your eye then you might to want check if you still have a pulse.

I plan to see through her eyes again starting today.

Regular readers may be scratching their heads especially since I am so prone to rant over life-sucking self-centeredness and narcissism in the body of Christ.

Let another praise you, and not your own mouth;
    a stranger, and not your own lips. Proverbs 27:2

I am ranting over the awesomeness of my bride the way I believe Jesus will one day rant over His.

For as a young man marries a young woman, so shall your sons marry you, and as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you. Isaiah 62:5

I’m trying to articulate my gratitude to God for the gift He has given me. As usual, words do not suffice

It is through my marriage to Cathy that Jesus teaches me the most about His heart for His bride. It is through her being my bride that Cathy models what it means to be a bride. That is part of the mystery.

and the two shall become one flesh.’ So they are no longer two but one flesh. Mark 10:8

It is in the context of marriage that the depth of God’s endgame is revealed. The realized Kingdom of Heaven is a marriage.

Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory,
for the marriage of the Lamb has come,
 and his Bride has made herself ready;
Revelation 19:7

The Spirit and the Bride say, “Come.” And let the one who hears say, “Come.” And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price. Revelation 22:17

And while you don’t have to be married to know and love Jesus, let alone be loved by Him, marriage is the foundation of any Christian community. As far as “community” is concerned, a given Christian community is only as healthy as its marriages.

Everything else flows from there.

As for me, I remain joyfully mesmerized by my bride. It is because of Cathy that I even have a clue as to what it means to love and be loved. It is in her presence that I can most easily appropriate the love of God which is His presence.

Thank you Jesus for my bride!

What Is Your Life?

We were in Honduras during the last major election cycle, locked down and humbled by two back-to-back Hurricanes and a landslide that took everything but our lives and left us homeless in the third world.  It was a three-hour drive to the US Embassy if we wanted to vote.  Needless to say, we didn’t.  We just prayed. I’d never placed much hope in politics but 2020 marked the official end of Mat 16:6 and Mark 8:15 leaven in my life and surrender to the truth that it is God who changes times and seasons; he removes kings and sets up kings… Dan 2:21

When God Wants To Judge A Nation, He Gives Them Wicked Rulers.” -John Calvin-

I have friends from Marxian a.k.a. progressive parts of the USA who joke about our new residence in Appalachia. They imagine the locals here as toothless, stereotypical hillbillies instead of American archetypes like Davy Crocket.  The Godless snobbery and blatant deconstruction for which Marxist America is known is enough to tempt me to categorize myself as a Confederate. I’m kidding. Still, my flesh despises everything for which those on the left stand!! Meanwhile,

The cry of my soul mirrors that of Habakkuk.

O LORD, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not hear? Or cry to you “Violence!” and you will not save? Why do you make me see iniquity, and why do you idly look at wrong? Destruction and violence are before me; strife and contention arise. So the law is paralyzed, and justice never goes forth. For the wicked surround the righteous; so justice goes forth perverted. Hab 1:2-4

Davy Crocket was born just a few miles from our current home. While he had very little in the way of formal education he wore many hats in his life including frontiersman, trapper, farmer, soldier, and US congressman. He met his demise at the hands of Mexican soldiers at the Alamo. He became my categorical model of fearlessness, selflessness, risk-taking, and adventure to which I aspired.

Men like Davy Crockett defined the line between good and evil.

I remember pretending to die like Davy at the Alamo

My categories were simple. America was good. Anyone opposing America was bad. Killing bad people was good. If I represent America then by extension anyone opposing me was bad. Television programming reinforced this paradigm.

There’s a tale about Crockett conversing with one of his more sophisticated congressional peers from Massachusetts when a herd of Donkeys passed by. “Aren’t those your constituents Crocket? the Yankee asked. “Why yes,” Crocket replied.

“I believe they’re on their way to Massachusetts to teach school.”

I also aspired to be witty like Davy as he so clearly articulated how I felt growing up in what I now know to be pre-Marxian America. While it might seem that the Godless deconstruction surrounding us now is new, anyone familiar with things like the Frankfurt School, Postmodernism, and Critical Theory will know otherwise. Still, now that I live in the heart of what still might qualify as the America I once imagined, there’s a stirring in my flesh and soul to identify with the voices that cry,

Meanwhile, the still small voice of God within me echo’s the words of John Adams,

Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious People. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.”

And the words of Jesus to Pontius Pilot,

“My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not of this world.” John 18:36

There’s no natural, let alone a political solution to what ails us as a nation.

Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in Spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. John 4:23

There is a point in the life of every mature believer where a line must be drawn between the carnality of the flesh, the mind, will, and emotions that comprise the soul and the regenerated spirit-man. It is the point where the truth of God’s word must supplant common sense and what appears to be an immutable fact.

It is a putting away of childish things we still hold as sacred in adulthood.

Today I understand that it was my childhood formations that compelled me to enter adulthood as a US Marine ready to kill whomever I was told to kill. My programmed tendency to choose a side in any conflict still lingers in the back of my mind even as it is renewed. Rom 12:1-2 My worldview remains framed by proverbial hills for which, and upon which, I am willing to die.

Now here I sit amidst another election cycle in the great Volunteer State of Tennessee. I am filled with Holy Spirit and acutely aware of my hypocrisy reflected in the mirror of God’s Word. My carnal flesh and soul driven by a hundred childish categorizations snarls and spits like Barabas in chains waiting to be chosen over Jesus by the crowd.

Barabas was a zealot.

Zealots were Jewish nationalists.

How easy it would be to unleash my inner Barabas and destroy my witness for Jesus in the name of protecting and preserving all that I call

“My life.”

It really got me thinking… 

Before I try to answer ethical questions related to the preservation of my life; shouldn’t I first examine my presuppositions regarding;

What is my Life?

I find it interesting that the Bible says more about what my life is not.

My life is not the world or anything in it.

Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. 1 John 2:15

My life is not a human relationship.

If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Luke 14:26

My life is not something I should cling to.

For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. Mat 16:24-26

My life is not on earth.

For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory. Col 3:3-4

My life is not MY identity.

For me to live is Christ. To die is gain. Phil 1:21

My life is not mine.

…You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body. 1 Cor 6:19-20

Whatever it is, my life is cryptic and in Christ Jesus.

But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which HE loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace, you have been saved—and raised us up with HIM and seated us with HIM in the heavenly places IN Christ Jesus so that in the coming ages HE might show the immeasurable riches of HIS grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. Eph 2:4-7

If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your mind on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory. Col 3:1-4

Today’s hard red pill.

I wrote about Adam and Eve’s focus before and after the fall and the subsequent selfishness and self-centeredness that distort our identities in Pressure. Dietrich Bonhoeffer went a step further in his final work “Ethics”. He begins with the presupposition that “The knowledge of good and evil” not just evil itself, separated us from God.  The result of Genesis 3 was the self-centeredness that we call our “identity” today. It supplants God’s sovereignty. At the end of the day, “Christian ethics” is an oxymoron that makes us His enemy. All of our very best judgments about right and wrong, good and evil are the fruit of the original fall from grace. That those in Christ Jesus are a new creation 2 Cor 5:17 applies to the extent that we take our eyes off ourselves and focus on Him and Him alone.  Assuming Bonhoeffer is correct, the very part of us that categorizes new and old and so joyfully and exuberantly proclaims,

“I am a new creation!” is not the new creation.

It’s paradoxical but the unholy trinity of flesh otherwise known as”Me, Myself, and I” is the part that dies when I am born again.

I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. Galatians 2:20

Chew on that.

The root of the problem

“And I heard a loud voice in heaven, saying, “Now the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Christ have come, for the accuser of our brothers has been thrown down, who accuses them day and night before our God.” Rev 12:10

“Accuse” is katēgoréō from which the English word category is derived.  While Adam was assigned the job of categorizing everything in the Garden, all of our post-fall categorizations are the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil. 

Turns out all of the righteous patriotic criteria and resulting categorizations formed in my childhood were from hell.

Who knew?

Still, my self-righteous carnality recoils at this.

Perhaps yours does too.

It only makes sense in the realm of spirit and truth to which all believers are called.

I’m pondering my own repentance here, not preaching down from a proverbial pulpit.

If I’m honest, there’s not a day that I don’t organize and view people, places, and things according to categories. Those familiar with cognitive science know that categories are foundational to language.

That’s a tree.  That’s a rock. Trees are plants. Rocks are not.

We categorize before we vote.

Aren’t you taking all of this a bit too far, Brian? We all have to function in a world of categories. Yes. But what if God meant exactly what He said, in Isaiah 55:8-9?

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

It might be worth considering, as we go about proclaiming God’s character, and plan, His will, and His thoughts about us and others in our daily lives. At the end of the day, everything we think we know might be wrong and we actually don’t have a clue about anything beyond the fact that

we desperately need Jesus.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. Be not wise in your own eyes; fear the LORD, and turn away from evil. It will be healing to your flesh and refreshment to your bones. Proverbs 3:5-8

The other day I told a younger brother that it seems that God’s purpose in our 30s and 40s is to generate enough proof of how little we understood by the time we are 50. The older I get, the more clearly I see how completely inept I am and how absurd it would be to even consider answering the question;  

What is your Life?

And while I have experienced what I assume to be His presence in manifold ways that my soul tries to interpret and my words articulate, all I can do that is worth doing at all is to ponder and recite God’s Word as it is written.

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant,  being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. Philippians 2:5-11

I know in part and I prophesy in part. When the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, and I reasoned like a child. Now that I am a man, I must give my up childish ways. For now, I see in a mirror dimly but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.  1 Corinthians 13:9-12

What is my life?

God’s word says it is Jesus.

I cling to that.

His kingdom is NOT of this world.

MARANATHA

For The Love of Sid

“It’s not glamorous here but it is glorious” – Able Carrico –

While you won’t find the glitz associated with big social media-driven mega ministries, there are enough love, joy, and miracles in this place to confirm God’s presence. In our case we see the Lord calling us deeper into the other fruits of the spirit especially peace, patience, faithfulness, and self-control which can be unwittingly sidelined in charismatic circles. More often than not their cultivation takes place in the context of His longsuffering.

All that being said, the following is excerpted from a previous blog and describes just one of my experiences with a Holston child. It is my experience and by no means representative of the average Holston child or any official position of Holston or Holston staff. If your spirit is quickened and your heart resonates with what you read then you just may be called to work here with our rejected, abandoned, and traumatized, adolescents, and or their parents.  

Snapping turtles will invariably bite any hand that tries to feed them. I was a snapping turtle as a teen. Those who have heard my testimony or read some of my previous posts will know what I mean. God loved me despite me. Ephesians 2 Several of those whom I’ve had the distinct pleasure of serving are the same. One particular boy has a special place in my heart. I can’t tell you his real name so I’ll call him “Sid” after “The Evil Sid” from the movie Toy Story. 

Sid is the marginalized and forgotten archetype of a traumatized child.

Our Sid made a bomb just for fun and accidentally blew himself up. While his physical injuries were healed it was part of the reason for his being sent to Holston. I get that. I made bombs when I was a boy too. In this case, it was the overarching paradigm for Sid’s daily existence. He laughed while telling me he’d enjoyed the burns on half his body because he “got high for free”. “They gave me the good drugs!” he laughed. As one might expect, Sid had a particularly foul mouth.  My supervisor counted the number of times in the course of three minutes that Sid referred to me in the urban rendition of a female dog. She told me she quit counting at forty-seven.  That’s not accounting for the myriad of other profane conjunctions. He was particularly frustrated that day because he’d dropped the pencil with which he’d planned to stab me.  “Go – head bend over and pick it up so I can kick you in yo face!” I held his gaze and calmly kicked it away.

“You a b#&*!” Sid snapped.

Still, Sid was witty at times. “I need to s*&t!” he blurted. “Can you find another word?” I asked. “Ok,” Sid said. “How about “shoot?”. “That’s fine,” I replied. If you keep cussing it’ll be another grounding. “Grounding” at Holston means sitting alone at a table where you can read, write, color or draw without talking to any other kids as they play games or watch T.V. Sid was always grounded. In fact, his record was twelve hours without being grounded.

Later that evening Sid told me he was about to shoot himself.

“Are you thinking of killing yourself?” I asked completely forgetting our prior conversation.

“Blank No!… Remember? You told me to find another word.”

“Can you unlock the bathroom?”

Sid ran away for a second time a few days later.  We call it AWOL. The police brought him back in handcuffs a few hours later. He was cursing and spouting off about “swinging on staff” as soon as the cuffs were off. I guess he thought he sounded pretty tough even though he’d clearly been crying. The cops told us he’d surrendered when they threatened to release the dog. 

They thought that was pretty funny.

They didn’t have a dog. 

Every day I’d greet Sid with a smile and a hand on his shoulder.  “How ya doing Sid?” to which he’d reply,

“Blank you! You blanking blanker!!!”

“Sigh…That’s a restart on your grounding Sid.”

This went on for weeks. Every day I’d let Sid snap until he was tired of snapping which was usually when he fell asleep. I’d hold him accountable and give him every available consequence. I’d tell him he needed to stop proverbially blowing himself up – that threatening me amounted to him holding a gun to his head and screaming “stop or I’ll shoot!” But Sid didn’t care. At least that’s what he wanted us and maybe himself to believe. One day the Lord prompted me to stick my head in his room after he’d had a particularly rough phone call. He had at least three tears streaming down his face as I spoke.

“You don’t want to hear this now”, I began. “But let me just plant one seed. If you ever get tired of blowing yourself up and give your life to Jesus, that demon that is destroying your life will leave.”

“Hell yeah,” Sid said.

The next day I told Sid I loved him after he called me and other staff the usual slew of explicatives.  He finally laughed. 

“You really like the bad kids don’t you?”

“Hell yeah!”

Then one of Sid’s sidekicks, asked me if there is anything a kid could say or do that would make me hit them? 

“Absolutely not” I replied.

“Well…what if I hit your wife?” Sid grinned.

It was around that time that Sid started to open up about the most horrible trauma you can imagine.

“My mom is a whore.” he began. “One of her boyfriends was beating her up.  I thought he was gonna kill her.  So I grabbed a bat and beat his @$$! Then my mom called the police and pressed charges on me!”

Sid’s favorite aunt shot herself in the chest and bled out in front of him when he was 12. “I didn’t know what to do…” he said nearly crying before he could get his walls back up. Sid had concluded that not giving a “blank” is the key to survival. I told him that’s only true if you’re planning to do life in prison.

“That’s where I’m going,” he said.

Then a miracle happened.  Sid started saying “thank you” instead of “F-you” and “good night” instead of “Blank you mother blankers”. One day he stopped on his way to do his laundry, turned to me, and said,

“You know I could be a really good man if I changed.” 

If you don’t quit; you win. -Heidi Baker-

The next day Sid asked me a question. “Hey, Mr. Brian, ya know what you remind me of?” “What’s that Sid?” Given the previous night’s revelation, I was half expecting some genuine spiritual fruit.

“A Q-tip!” he cackled.

“I can see why you might say that” I laughed.

Sid’s shoulders sank as he walked away.

Then Sid tried to form a gang of other broken boys. He facilitated a classroom brawl and tried to lead a rebellion. In the end, they took him out in shackles and drove away.

One plants, one waters, but only God gives the increase. 1 Corinthians 3

I wept for Sid.

 The longsuffering of our Lord is salvation.  2 Pet 3:15

One reason why I have such a heart for the Sids of the world is that they have had transparency imposed upon them. Their Sid reputations are fully documented often in a way that embellishes the bad. They don’t bother to pull punches in telling us the truth about what they think. Where others see a menace to society, I see budding apostle Pauls if the scales would fall from their eyes.

Hence when “F-you!” suddenly becomes “thank you” you can be fairly certain of genuine transformation.

We do a lot of things to facilitate transformation. At the end of the day, I suspect that one of the most significant ways a child encounters the Love of God at Holston is when we don’t beat the tar out of them when they do everything in their power to prove they are “Children appointed to wrath.” Ephesians 2:3. And while so many in our identity-focused culture recoil when I say that I work with Sids because,

I am Sid

Those who really know me know it’s true. The Sids of the world is what will keep me at Holston.

Any power or ability I may have to love is the fruit of my brokenness. Luke 7:47

My prayer is that the gift of repentance would fall as it did in H.A. Baker’s Visions Beyond the Veil. Still, the older I get, the more I am convinced that places to which God has us “GO” are more for our transformation than His need for us to accomplish His will. Those who proclaim they want “More! More! More!” – those truly called to the “deep that cries out to deep” will encounter, and become increasingly identified with the brokenness, and sorrow, of our Lord, not only His joy. Isaiah 53.

If this message resonates with your heart and you identify with the Sids of the world, then maybe give Able a call and he’ll point you in the right direction.

MARANATHA