Enabled by God

Last fathers day was the first fathers day that was celebrated at my house where I was the celebrated one. But this year, things got even better. It was a good Great day in the Lord’s house today. We praised God, listened to some great preaching and had the satisfaction of witnessing God save multiple souls. I always experience great satisfaction in seeing a soul saved, but I must say, it was an awesome sight to see my wife Danielle and my sister Ashley be saved by the grace of God this fathers day. I will never forget this day and I now have a new relationship with my wife and my sister. We are now all the brides of Christ. All praise be to Jesus Christ who is about the business of saving his fathers sheep.

The thing I hope to take from this fathers day is that… I think I need to hold up on this and try to fully grasp all that God has done today and give a little thought to things.

As many of you know following the birth of our daughter things were difficult for us. I know what you are thinking, for what young parents are things easy? Well, we had a rough go of things and I can now say that God has been so patient with us. He continues to deliver us and watch us be disobedient, and then deliver us again and again.  I think after a short pause, the thing that I want to try and never forget from this fathers day is that God has been a DELIVERER for my family without fail.

May God bless you all and may you all have a wonderful Fathers Day!

Children have a way of instructing adults in the mysteries of the kingdom.

My son, Josiah, not yet two years old, teaches me a lesson about worship and the wonders of God almost every evening.

We will walk outside right after dusk and it’s not very long until he lifts an expectant gaze upward. With an awe-inspiring wonder in his eyes he exclaims, “Moon!”

It never gets old to him. He sees it near every night, but each time he is caught by complete surprise when earth’s companion reveals itself. He points to the heavens with a tiny index finger, gasps, and exclaims it again with more emphasis, “Moon!”
He’ll then look to me to make sure I’m not missing out on this exquisite display of the cosmos. And I can’t help but look up with him and force the amazement in my voice while joining with him, “Moon!”

The miracle of a glowing orb perfectly suspended before a pitch-black backdrop is a mystery we “refined” adults rarely recognize anymore.

My son knows nothing of cosmology, astronomy, laws of gravity or Neil Armstrong. But he knows the proper response to divine phenomena when he sees it (Psalm 19:1).

We should be more like children (Mat 18:3). Sophistication, tradition, materialism, and blatant worship at the altar of fallen reason have left us cold and dead inside. Our blind dedication to theoretical principles has left us passionless and purposeless.

The problem is not that we are so advanced as a species but that we are so dull. One defining mark of spiritual maturity is when the curious marvel that is a blade of grass or tadpole can bring us to our knees in worship. The splendor of God’s power in those simple yet complex things rarely grips us, and it hardly ever governs the way we live and worship.

This Easter, I pray the wonder of the gospel will make us children again (Mat 19:14). May we never view the empty tomb as some abstract historical fact or ecclesiastic tradition. There is an eternal chasm’s difference between assenting to information about God and being ruined by a revelation of God.

This weekend, may we look to the gospel of Jesus Christ with childlike astonishment, point to the cross and empty tomb, and cry out to God and man, “The Son! The Son! The Son!” (Luke 24:5)

Bryan

She was an “elegant” lady with Southern charm and a big heart for family. If you came to her home you were leaving with a least two hearty loaves of freshly baked banana nut bread. She could whip up a home cooked meal in a hour that would feed an army of food critics….or defensive linemen sized grandsons.

Her winsome wink made you feel like you were the only person in on the inside joke. Give her a garden and an old mutt to tend to and she would be entertained for hours.

She loved Tallahassee. It was always her home, even after the crippling fog fell on her mind. Just point her east towards the azalea trails and she would make the trek by foot if she had to. She was going to find Sheldon, that tough broad Marine with a bulldog tattoo. He would be patiently waiting for her with a keyboard serenade.

The past four years her memory was ravaged, and she was a shell of the woman her beauty parlor customers and East Hill Baptist friends once knew. She had many friends. Pinochle friends. Buffalo Camp friends. Old goats and fat hens.

But there still seemed to be startling moments of clarity in the midst of the fog. Even if it was just a gleam in her eye or a toothless grin. She may not have known you as grandson, or daughter, or best friend anymore. But she knew you were someone she should have known, someone she should have cared about, and someone who cared.

When she breathed out her last sigh in this world, she had at her bed side the only earthly rock that she could cling to when the disease incapacitated her faculties: her daughter.

My grandmother, Dorothy Shepler, died yesterday. She’ll be deeply missed. I love you Nena.