I rolled out of bed and then was off to an early appointment with the dentist. Upon arriving at 10 a.m., I received the following text: “Looks like we’ll be transferring to a different hospital tomorrow. If you want to visit, come by today any time you like. No pressure to come at all.” I left the dentist and arrived at the children’s hospital and the PICU around 1:30 p.m. There I saw the little boy reading a book with his grandmother. He was tired and uncomfortable with IVs, cables, and wires sticking out everywhere, but he was smiling and talkative. Looking at him, you wouldn’t be able to tell this little four year old had a golf ball sized tumor pressing against his brain stem. He’s had sleep apnea, asthma, and seemingly a thousand other problems with his tiny body. His parents have been with him in and out of one doctor’s office after another, all to find out what’s going on. He’s smaller than other kids his age, he struggles to breathe, especially at night, and doesn’t get the necessary oxygen to his brain. When he does anything strenuous, like running and playing, he gets out of...

“I like the way you pray.” I’ll be honest, that just made me really insecure. This was the second time I had heard this. Both times I wondered nervously, When did they hear me pray? Praying publicly isn’t something I do often and, while this is something I’d like to change, I struggle being comfortable with it. I guess I should explain. As an example, when you’re alone with your closest friend or loved one, there’s an intimacy and candor that flows naturally. Conversations evolves and change and there is deep communication and emotion that is conveyed which goes so much deeper than simply the spoken words. This is how I pray. There is brutal honesty and unashamed dialogue. I hold back nothing. I don’t have that level of communication with anyone and I doubt my friends or family would think very highly of me if they were listening in. God knows the ugliest parts of me already and I expose everything to him. It’s the only way he can shine his grace on me and expose the areas of brokenness. Now introduce a stranger into the mix. This may still be a close friend, but in the context...

Weeping for sickness is not something to be ashamed of. Sometimes you hear the statement, “God will work all things together for good,” but it’s usually those who aren’t in the midst of turmoil who say it. Sickness is caused by sin. Not necessarily your or my sin, but by sin. Our lives are lived in a world broken and consumed with wickedness. When two godly people have a son who is but four years old who has a tumor, many of us want to offer words of encouragement, but what can we offer to them? The truth is, they have every right to be hurting, every right to be angry, and every right to be mourning. Sin is evil and should be detested. I heard the mother says once that it was not right for such a young boy to have so much torment. She’s right. It’s wrong. We like to place the blame too, “Why do you let this happen, God?!”, but the reality is, God never desired things to be this way. He desired perfection and holiness, but he gave humanity a choice to be dependent on him and holy, or to be independent and reject...

Do you ever feel like you’re afloat in a weightless room? Today I was suspended in a room with no momentum to reach the sides.  I’ll admit, my first thought on arrival was fascination.  I wasn’t really concerned how I got there or why, but was rather captivated by my environment. The room was completely empty, save the sock, gently drifting in front of me. I can only assume it came from some subconscious struggle, because I had a shoe and a sock missing. The shoe was nowhere to be found, but the sock was suspended just beyond arms reach directly in front of me. Have you ever stared blankly at something without know how long or even why you stare? My concern should have been rising, but I instead remained entranced by the weave of the thread that bound the stocking. The craftsmanship was astounding. Sure, it was most likely woven by a machine, but what about the first one? What about the design? A man designed the first sock and came up with the method of elasticity by which it stays tightly on the foot and leg. My mind finally caught up and then wondered the obvious,...

Before me I saw the waves rising and crashing in the midst of a vast ocean.  The sky was dark with the raging storms.  The torrent of rain tore against the surface of the tumultuous water.  The winds whipped the water from the ocean and sky every which way. Then, as a wave crested and fell in front of me, I saw a boat, made small by the waves all around and by the enormity of the storm.  It was in the valley of this wave and climbing the side of the next that I saw it was made of wood. It could not last in such a storm.  Surely this feeble boat would be torn asunder by the crash of the next surge. I shook my head. “Why do you show me this?” I looked up and was standing upon the deck. Above me stood the center mast, with sail billowing full of the furious wind. The crew was frantically flying from end to end, each with determination in his step. Each one knew his place and their hands were grasped upon the ropes. The sea burst over the side of the ship and sent several to their...

One of the greatest shows ever made. Now to the point.   The name of the show was somewhat ambiguous.  The obvious meaning is that the little baby’s name is Hope, and the show is about raising her.  That’s far too simplistic, and it seems more coincidental than anything.  The real meaning behind it is the family.  By all accounts, this family is on the ragged edge.  The mom and dad work menial jobs for little pay.  They strive to make a better life and in spite of terribly discouraging circumstances, they always seem to find hope in the future.  The entire show revolved around that concept, which is why I think I liked it so much. There are times in my own life, like yesterday and today, when I look around and see the circumstances closing in to swallow me.  It’s only then that I look up and remember that, first, I am not alone and, second, I am not forgotten.  The biggest and greatest gift we have in life is that we have others to share it with.  When facing heartache, it is necessary to share the burden.  It is partially why God said it was not good...

As it turns out… I’m not very smart.  I’m inadequate too. No, this isn’t a pity party; this is rather a reality.  I have worked in many jobs where my skills were never utilized.  I could coast along with the requirements because I needed to only exert enough to excel.  Let me explain a little further.  My mother was a master educator.  She will most likely laugh and scoff at that statement, but it’s very true.  I left my homeschooled career and launched into a high school career perfectly equipped to learn and succeed.  My mother knew her weaknesses and was determined that her sons have none of the disadvantages she had.  This sheer determination for her sons to excel was like a powerful tidal wave that pushed me through high school and on into college.  Something interesting happened though that I don’t think she could have anticipated.  Neither high school nor college was the challenge that she had been.  With little effort, I obtained perfect grades.  Most of my fellow students hated my test scores and, if on occasion they scored higher than me, were sure to rub it in my face.  It was pride that drove me to good...

Today I went through one of my “I deserve…” moments.  I pondered all the things I didn’t have and thought, “But I deserve them.”  Thankfully, my Father sitting across from me, patiently listened to and took in each statement.  I explained that my car had died and due to my own ability and “long suffering” with the this old one, that I really deserved a new one. I went on to cover the topic of my personal life and what I deserve and when I deserve it.  God still sat next to me listening.  About half way home I stopped talking and just sat quietly for a few minutes.  We both sat like that for a while as the car bumped and bounded over the rolling hills.   Then God finally broke the silence, “Let me show you something.” It was the most profound display of logic I have ever seen and with great love and specificity he revealed the truth to me. From birth I was given a father and a mother who loved each other, loved me, and taught me the meaning of love.  They educated me in the dealing of truth, and brought me up to know...

“Father.  What’s going on?  You asked me to turn one way while the world turns another.” “Do you believe that I am able to do as I have promised?” “Yes, but the… the circumstances… no, no I do not.” It’s telling isn’t it?  To stand before the all knowing creator and admit the truth is far more difficult than it might at first appear.  The truth is that even when promise after promise is kept, carried out, and made real, I still can’t seem to trust Him to follow through on the very next promise.  It’s as if I’m driving on a road turning right.  This road wraps around a rock face, and I cannot see around the bend.  My vision says that this road will continue turning right, and as far as I can see, it’s doing just that.  There’s this voice, though, that keeps whispering, “Don’t worry, it turns left up ahead.”  Well that’s great for some one to say, but there is utterly no evidence that it will ever change direction.  Silly thing is, He said just two miles back, when I was certain the road only turned left that, “The road turns right up ahead.”...

“We have been putting a little money away these past few months.  And we have been asking God what to do with it.  We would like to give it to you if you will accept it.”  Their faces were beaming with love.  Both of them were so joyful to be giving in obedience to God.  A thousand things went through my head, Of course I’ll take it, there is so desperate a need.  Instead, the words that came out revealed much more of my chaotic and now broken state of mind. “I don’t know what to say.  Thank you.”  On the brink of tears, I couldn’t believe the faithfulness of God. One week ago on a return trip from Louisville, in the voice of Frances Chan, God asked me to begin helping others through the use of time and money.  I had four hours to argue with him and four hours to make up one excuse after another.  First off, I don’t have time.  I’m so busy giving to the church, how could I give any more?  I don’t have money.  Every penny I have is being spent on things I need.  I barely buy groceries because I can’t afford...

“Go again. Love your wife.” For some people this may sound like an easy request of God to make, but some times it is very difficult to do.  A few weeks ago God said it to me again.  At the time I begrudgingly said yes. Loving her wasn’t really in question; it was more about how God was asking me to love.  I do my best to evaluate every situation and analyze the circumstances so that I can make the best choice possible.  A few weeks ago I had weighed the options, looked at all possibilities and determined that I would do what I thought was best.  In that moment, before I looked her in the eyes and said those words that would have broken her heart, “No, I won’t help you,” God’s words ripped through my mind, “Go again. Love your wife.” I wrestled with it all night, and God revealed truths about her that I could not see.  It’s not that I was being unloving, rather that my sight was incomplete.  In turn, my actions, in light of revealed reality, would have very much been unloving.  I write this now as just a reminder that God’s sight is...

Hello.  My name is Travis.  And I’m a recovering porn addict. It’s cliché and we often make jokes about it, but alcoholics anonymous is right on.  The first step to recovery and healing is to admit we have a problem.  In James it says to “confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed.”  So praying, “God forgive me,” is enough to be forgiven, but it’s not enough to find healing. One of the other interesting things about alcoholics anonymous is that they never say, “I’m a recovered addict.”  They always emphasis, “I’m a recovering addict.”  You’ve seen the movies and TV shows: “My name is Bob, and I’ve been sober for 15 years now.”  There’s great importance in that language.  It’s a somber admission that, though I’ve been without for years, at any moment, I’m just as susceptible as I ever was. So here’s the truth.  I’m not going to tell you how long I’ve been porn free, because it’s not really relevant, and it’s not that profound.  The reality is, I’m an addict.  Yet, I’m determined to recover, though it may take a lifetime.  Today, as yesterday, I am just...

He was walking down the median wearing a blue and white striped button up dress shirt.  It was far too large and looked unkempt tucked into his sagging faded black slacks.  His coat hung heavily in his arm and each step fell with the weight of a long difficult day. I only saw a glimpse of him.  It was quickly gone as I flew down the road, but what I saw was clear.  He had a mullet.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen a mullet that looked even remotely attractive, and I still can’t figure out why anyone would get one on purpose.  Therefore, I have a standing belief that, somewhere out there, there’s a rogue barber who wears a dark skin-tight super villain outfit and attacks unsuspecting trailer parks.  Either that or a fashion and style magazine that has countless people deceived. This man’s mullet, turning grey, was slicked back with gel and his mustache and goatee were wiry.  The long walk in the warm, humid summer night had dampened his forehead and left his face exhausted. For the next few hundred yards, as I drove on, I began analyzing what I saw, “Does he get up in the morning,...

Prayer changes you more than you know Part II During the darkest hour of Job’s life, he demanded an answer from God concerning his plight. He pleaded for the Lord to vindicate him. Throughout the majority of the book, there was no response. When God finally revealed himself to Job, He did not give Job what he had asked for, nor did He answer any of the challenges Job had uttered. God, instead, exposed Job to His character and personhood. The concerns and arguments that had plagued Job’s mind faded away: “I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted,” Job said. “Therefore, I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.” (Job 42:2-3) Scripture says, “Man shall not see [God] and live.” (Exodus 33:20) Essentially, you, in your fallen state, cannot look upon God and survive the encounter. How then can you walk away unscathed from the personally close encounter that is prayer? When standing in the presence of such a holy God, Job saw his own righteousness in comparison and cried, “I had heard of you by the hearing of...

Worship – and how it motivates prayer Part I A few weeks ago I was walking out of a church service with a friend of mine when he exclaimed, “Wasn’t the worship amazing!” That simple phrase drudged up within me a thought that has had me in its grasp for years. American church culture has been using this term “worship” for years, but has it been used correctly? If not, such misuse can cause it to become cliché and ultimately meaningless. In an attempt to have him unpack his understanding, I baited him, “What is worship?” The awkward silence that followed betrayed in him a troubling condition that plagues many Christians in America today. What is worship? In Hebrews, the term “worshipers” is used to describe those who sacrificed in the tabernacle. In the first few chapters of Leviticus, it becomes quickly evident that the process of the sacrificial system was time consuming, emotionally taxing and financially costly. Furthermore, the act of worship was tremendously gruesome as the head of the household had to carry out the task of slaughtering the sacrifice in the tabernacle. The worship of God was exceptionally demanding of the worshiper. With the sacrificial system...