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We Bought A House

So we bought a house this week.   When I tell people that, they get all excited and congratulate me and ask me about the neighbourhood and what the house is like and all of that.  You know, the regular stuff people say to someone who just bought a house.   It’s usually at that point in the conversation that I feel the need to clarify the story, just a bit.  When I say “we bought a house”, I mean, my wife Sarah and I bought a house.   Along with our three kids.   And my Mom.   And my Dad.   And my Sister.   And my Brother-in-Law.   And my Brother will live there too, when he’s home from school.   Oh, and Sarah and I are in the process of adopting a fourth child.  So yup, “we” bought a house.   Together.   And we’re all going to live in the house.   Together.   People usually aren’t real sure how to process this information.  I tend to hear a lot of variations on, “That’s so brave of you!” and “I’m glad it’s you, not me!”.  Some pe
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Self-Incrimination

“If we’re not careful, it gets retardedly fast”.  It was Good Friday and I was talking to our worship band about the tempo of a song we were rehearsing. As the sentence left my mouth I wanted to grab it and shove it back in. I could have used a dozen different non-derogatory words that actually exist, but out popped “retardedly”.   My original angle for this blog post was how I’m glad I’m not actually famous because in our “Twitter Mob” society, a slip of the tongue like that can cost you a career. I didn’t actually write it because it did nothing but prove that however good I think I am, I’m awful enough that even when I speak hurtful, unthinking words about beautiful, God-created people, the person I’m still most worried about having hurt is myself.   Word Count: 140 
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Keeping It Real

My grandfather once wrote a letter to my brother and I about a picture he'd seen of our band, Scarlet Tag (The name could have been much worse. In true evangelical teenager fashion, our alternative idea was Rare Pearls). His issue was that our band looked too unhappy and rebellious. He felt that our faces should display the joy that comes from knowing Jesus instead of copying the cynical attitude of the rock stars of "the world". To illustrate, he sent along a photo of one of those travelling family gospel groups, with big smiles, heavy make-up and lots of hands resting gently on shoulders. I hated that picture because it represented everything 19 year old me was beginning to despise about Christianity. I remember fighting with my Dad in the car on the way to church one morning and him lamenting that he would now have to "pretend to be happy". The smiles in that picture were the same smile my Dad wore on the platform that Sunday. I promised myself that I was
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Blind Spot

Jesus once encountered a man born blind.  The disciples asked Jesus "Who's sin caused this man's blindness, his parents or his own?"  Jesus told them "Neither...but this happened so Gods work might be displayed in him".  After Jesus healed the man, the Pharisees, convinced that Jesus was a sinner, tried to persuade the formerly blind man to deny that it was Jesus who healed him.  When he refused, they banished him from the temple. By looking for sin in the life of the blind man, the disciples failed to see the possibility of God at work in their midst.  By looking for sin in the life of Jesus, the Pharisees failed to see God Himself present in their midst. If we are blind, it’s possible that sin is the culprit.  More likely, our self-righteousness and judgmental attitudes are to blame.  Word Count: 140 
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Who Was A Neighbour To This Man?

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World Vision has recently amended their hiring to policy to allow professing Christians in married homosexual relationships to be employees in their organization.  Predictably, some more fundamentalist Christians are upset, threatening to pull their sponsorships and boycott World Vision.   In the story of "The Good Samaritan", Jesus makes the case that actions matter more than beliefs and that morality without justice is useless. By failing to help the man beaten on the side of the road, the upstanding, right believing Priest and Levite are revealed to know less about God's heart towards people then the despised, outsider Samaritan.   Personally, I believe that even if an organization was run by hedonistic, occult practicing, satan worshiping witches, Jesus would still want us to give them our money if it meant that the life of an impoverished child was improved.  Word Count: 139
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Leading By Example

What do u think? If u r on staff @ a church u should attend functions the church puts on, men @ the mens events, ladies @ the ladies events — Fraser Morse (@FraserMorse) February 25, 2014 My friend tweeted this yesterday and argued that “non-attendance” by pastors was poor leadership: To me, the issue isn’t leadership, it’s vision. As the torch-bearer of the church’s mission, any pastor who won’t give selflessly of their time and energy to make that vision a reality shouldn’t be in ministry. Likewise, a church with a clear vision of their God given identity and role wouldn’t want to waste precious resources on events that didn’t directly further their mission. What many pastors dread  is giving up their personal time to attend one more breakfast/prayer meeting/social gathering that’s nothing more then a “holy huddle” filling the social calendars of existing believers. If your pastors aren’t attending, they’re either unqualified or they understand what the church lacks t
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A Love Story

***We're blowing past the 140 word limit in this post because some stories simply require more words.  When I was 14, there was this girl that I really liked.  The first time I really noticed her, she was sitting a couple rows in front of me at church and I was smitten by her straight, long brown hair and her luminous smile.  We caught each other sneaking glances during service and after church we played that game where you pretend to avoid the other person while also trying to accidentally run into them at the same time.   It turned out she was one of those high school girls with a college boyfriend but he lived in another city so I figured my chances were solid.  For the next few months I played the "friend" card, hanging out, chatting on the phone and pretending to be sympathetic when she told me about her relationship troubles.  I remember sitting on the floor of her apartment, watching TV with some friends and rubbing her sock covered feet, which, in retrospect,
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