Because of the Tender Mercy of Our God

It’s Christmas eve. I am home. I am glad.

As is obvious, despite all my good intentions to the contrary, I’ve done a poor job keeping the blog updated. However, the types of meditations that normally take place surrounding Christmas are really quite appropriate for trying to briefly capture the essence of these past five months.

Before starting seminary, looking forward to the studies that are to come, one tends to wonder what it will be like after those studies are completed, what will have been learned, what sort of deep, profound, earth-shattering truths will now be understood and assimilated into the framework of thought that makes up one’s “worldview” or comprehensive theological understanding. Five months ago, I probably wondered how different my outlook would be even after the first full semester when I went home for Christmas. Well, now I know.

Since late July I have indeed had the privilege to learn things that might be considered deep and profound; I now know more about gnosticism, Platonism, the early church Fathers, Greek grammar, historiographical methodologies, speech-act theory, the Regulative Principle of Worship, covenantal-redemptive-historical-epistemology, and much, much more than I suppose I knew was possible. But amidst the finer points of the Greek subjunctive, Athanasius’s involvement with the recognition of the canon, and Augustine’s views on preaching, one picture or theme emerged over and over again and has, I hope, seared itself upon my understanding: the Gospel of the person and work of Jesus Christ is more central, more cohesive, and more beautiful than I have ever known before, and it is enough.

The message of the Scriptures is the message of Christ. From God’s promise in Genesis three to the resurrection of Christ, we can see all of God’s dealings with His covenant people as steadily, progressively, and faithfully fulfilling His gracious promise of salvation, all by His doing, all by His merciful love.

However, by the time Caesar Augustus gave the decree that brought a poor carpenter and his pregnant-virgin-betrothed to Bethlehem, God’s visible people were looking back over a relatively extensive history of being enslaved by other nations, probably wondering why God had forgotten them. What most of them didn’t understand, though, was that their bondage and trouble went far beyond the Roman legions marching up and down their country.

But then, the Word became flesh; the light came into the darkness. John the Baptist’s father, Zechariah, was one of the first to realize what was happening. His words, and the truths behind those words, are glorious beyond words:

Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
for he has visited and redeemed his people
and has raised up a horn of salvation for us
in the house of his servant David,
as he spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,
that we should be saved from our enemies
and from the hand of all who hate us;
to show the mercy promised to our fathers
and to remember his holy covenant,
the oath that he swore to our father Abraham, to grant us
that we, being delivered from the hand of our enemies,
might serve him without fear,
in holiness and righteousness before him all our days.
And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,
to give knowledge of salvation to his people
in the forgiveness of their sins,
because of the tender mercy of our God,
whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.
~Luke 1:68-79

Perhaps it seems maudlin or cliche to write such a thing on Christmas eve, but may I remind us, my brothers and sisters, that what we are celebrating goes far beyond the sentimentality of swaddling cloths and bright stars two-thousand years ago. What we celebrate is the “tender mercy of our God,” realized in the most amazing Drama ever told, culminating and fulfilled in the person and work of the One Who was born to die, Who gave Himself to be ripped to pieces and beaten beyond recognition so that we, His rebellious and stubborn people, might have light in our darkness and have our feet led in the way of peace. Thus, when we remember the manger, may we also remember the cross, and may we be glad in what our God has done despite us.

So this message of Christmas, the centrality, sufficiency, and beauty of God’s tender mercy, as realized in Jesus, is that which has most clearly been impressed upon my mind these past five months. God’s love in Christ is our life, our joy, and our hope, and we neither have nor need any other.

Once again, to all of you who have made these realizations possible through your prayers and financial support, I offer you my deep and sincere thanks. The tender mercy of our God is being displayed through your graciousness to me. Thank you.

An Update, an Interview, and a Museum

One of the things I mentally committed to before coming to Seminary was staying current with blog and email updates. I knew that a WSC seminary education was rigorous and demanding, but I also knew it was possible to put in a day’s work (even if that day should be a 12 or 14 hour stretch) and then say “enough,” regardless of whether or not it felt like it was enough.  I knew that I would have to say “enough” at certain times in order to spend time doing those “trivial” little things like washing cloths, buying groceries, and cleaning the bathroom, as well as those joyous activities such as keeping up with family, friends, and loved ones through calls, emails, and yes, blog updates. Before starting classes, I was determined to be good at saying “enough” and staying current with you all. Well, the fact that my last blog entry was over a month ago is a pretty good commentary on how good a job I’ve done of saying “enough.”

Much has happened in the past month. Summer, “Boot-Camp,” Greek ended, and all of us are, thanks to the grace of our God, better for it. I was pleasantly surprised to realize how much one can actually learn in such a class. I suppose I assumed that we would learn something, but I suppose I was skeptical about how well we would learn it or how well it would “stick” under such “extreme” circumstances. (In case I haven’t explained before, “Boot-Camp Greek” is an intensive introduction to Greek in which students have five weeks to learn an entire semester’s worth of material. A large part of the difficulty is in the sheer volume of what must be learned every day and every week). But I was very pleasantly surprised to find out that we actually did learn – we are far from having mastered the language, but we have entered Greek II, and we have all the tools we need to continue learning how to read and exegete God’s Word in its original language. That is a beautiful thing.

Another happening that was a blessing for me was being able to participate in a pod-cast interview through Westminster’s Office Hours program. Office Hours is a new podcast WSC is doing in order to let the public hear about the seminary in its own words. I was graciously invited to participate in an interview with two other current students so that prospective students could hear a bit about our experiences, how the Lord has brought us here, and how He is providing for us. If you would like to hear the interview, please click here and select “listen now” for the September 8th program. I also encourage you to listen to the other programs found on that page, and to sign up for the podcast.

Because time is limited, I will wrap up now, but for those of you who have been asking “How has your overall experience been so far?” let me offer you this analogy. Imagine that for as long as you can remember, you’ve lived in the shadow of the largest, most magnificent, and greatest museum ever known to man – a museum full of the world’s greatest treasures of art, history, scientific discovery, and knowledge. Now imagine that you’ve walked past this museum all these years, and oftentimes you’ve stopped outside its windows to gaze and marvel and contemplate the treasures you could see on the inside – but you’ve always been engaged in other activities, so you’ve never had the opportunity to actually go in and look around. Well, thanks to the grace of God, working through the generosity of His people, I’ve entered that museum through my studies here, and I find that even my first few steps through the doors have left me stunned and overwhelmed with the magnificence and beauty and wealth of treasure herein contained — and I have yet to walk any hallway or see any room or explore any exhibition.

Suffice to say, I am profoundly grateful to  be here, and I am profoundly grateful to have four years to spend here. To all of you who are making this possible through prayer and encouragement and financial support, I thank you as one who has been given the opportunity to discover and study and marvel at the greatest Treasure known to man.

A beginning

In his letters to young Timothy, the Apostle Paul gives much divinely inspired counsel, advice, and exhortation. One thing that strikes me about several of these exhortations is the Apostle’s metaphorical language of military service and warfare. Though these verses should be studied in context, I give them here to simply illustrate the metaphor:

“This charge I entrust to you, Timothy, my child, in accordance with the prophecies previously made about you, that by them you may wage the good warfare, holding faith and a good conscience.” (1 Timothy 1:18-19a)

“Fight the good fight of faith.” (1 Timothy 6:12)

“Share in suffering as a good soldier of Christ Jesus. No soldier gets entangled in civilian pursuits, since his aim is to please the one who enlisted him.” (2 Timothy 2:3-4)

As one who has just started seminary, I am very thankful for this inspired metaphor. Thinking of a call to the ministry as a solider’s calling is a good reminder of the seriousness of what the Lord has created me to do. A call to the ministry is not something which should be taken lightly or flippantly – there is a war being waged, and though we know that our King is sovereignly in control of every aspect of that war, including its ultimate outcome, we must be “sober minded” in the tasks of each day, each battle, and each campaign.

All of us as Christians are blessed subjects of the King of Kings, and each of us have a certain aspect of the “war effort” to which we’ve been called. Some are soldiers in the front line trenches, some are support staff in back of the lines, and some are back on the home front, far removed from the actual fighting, but indispensable in support and production.  Whatever calling the Lord has given us is worthwhile, good, and valuable, regardless of what it looks like, because God is the One Who has called us to that position, and all of it is ultimately part of the campaign.

There are certainly no value differences in any calling, but there are practical differences. One practical difference is the particular, day-to-day tasks of any particular calling, and the training needed for those tasks. This, beloved friends, is why I am at seminary. Paul tells young Timothy, “Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth.” (2 Timothy 2:15) The phrase “…rightly handling the word of truth” is one which should be taken with the utmost seriousness. The explicit assumption here is that it is indeed possible to wrongly handle the Word of truth — and that is a fearful thing.

Thankfully, God has graciously given us faithful institutions where those called to preach and teach His Word may go and learn skills necessary to fulfill their calling, walk the path set before them, and fight whatever battles they are ordained to fight. And so, with all that in mind, I and my fellow soldiers-in-training are currently in the middle of an intensive, summer Greek class (which is humorously called “Boot Camp Greek”) learning the very beginning stages of how to “rightly handle” God’s Word of truth.

Westminster Seminary California takes the study of Greek and Hebrew very seriously. There are many upper division classes where students are not allowed to use an English Bible, and the overall curriculum is designed to give students the skills necessary to do exegesis from the original texts for the rest of their lives.

So, we are plugging away at first semester Greek (the first of four parts) and learning about such things as second aorist verbs, substantive adjectives, predications, contract verbs, and third declension noun variations. Being an intensive class, it takes hours and hours of study each day (I think I’m averaging around 50-60 hours a week, including class time) but it is absolutely worth every second, and our professor continues to remind us, through daily examples, of how valuable and necessary it is for pastors to be able to do exegesis from the original languages.

Thank you all for your faithful support and prayers – both are very much needed, and both are very much appreciated. Please do continue to pray for all of us here as we seek to become faithful soldiers of our King by participating in rigorous, intensive academic training. We need much grace and strength.

I shall end my comments now, but below you will find a very well articulated explanation, (written by Dr. J. G. Machen regarding the first Westminster) of how the faculty and staff here view the purpose of the seminary.*

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Let it never be forgotten that a theological seminary is a school for specialists. We are living in an age of specialization. There are specialists on eyes and specialists on noses, and throats, and stomachs, and feet, and skin; there are specialists on teeth—one set of specialists on putting teeth in, and another set of specialists on pulling teeth out—there are specialists on Shakespeare and specialists on electric wires; there are specialists on Plato and specialists on pipes. Amid all these specialties, we at Westminster Seminary have a specialty which we think, in comparison with these others, is not so very small. Our specialty is found in the Word of God. Specialists in the Bible—that is what Westminster Seminary will endeavor to produce. Please do not forget it; please do not call on us for a product that we are not endeavoring to provide. If you want specialists in social science or in hygiene or even in ‘religion’ (in the vague modern sense), then you must go elsewhere for what you want. But if you want men who know the Bible and know it in something more than a layman’s sort of way, then call on us.” J. Gresham Machen, “Westminster Theological Seminary: Its Purpose and Plan,” in Selected Shorter Writings (D. G. Hart, ed.; Phillipsburg: P&R, 2004), 193 (an address given on September 25, 1929).

*Electronically copied from: http://www.wscal.edu/baugh/index.php

The Adventure Begins

Well, the seminary adventure has begun…sort of. I arrived in California three days ago after almost a week on the road. As it turns out, just getting here was an adventure in itself.

Less than twenty-four hours before I was planning on leaving, my car (the one I was planning to drive across the country) was sovereignly struck dead by our good God. That led to a quick series of decisions and some research which, twelve hours later, resulted in my driving home in a new car. The Lord provided a brand new Hyundai Accent for a great price, and He did it in the space of twelve hours. That car, named “Eliot” after the great Mr. T.S., has since brought me nearly three thousand miles, literally over mountains and through deserts. After coming through those mountains and those deserts, I realized that my previous car probably would not have made it. Though I didn’t originally desire to have a car payment, the Lord was very gracious to let my car die at home and not in the middle of the Rockies or the Mojave, and He was very gracious to provide a very reliable, economical, “long-warrantied,” mode of transportation. I am grateful.

My journey, which began a week ago this past Wednesday, took me first to Mississippi to spend a couple days with some wonderful friends there. I left Mississippi and arrived a day and a half later in Colorado Springs to spend two nights with some dear friends there as well, and then I finished out the trip by traveling Monday and Tuesday through Colorado, Utah, Arizona, Nevada, and finally, into California. In total, Eliot and I traversed ten states and almost three thousand miles. Much of the drive was jaw-droppingly beautiful, and I often felt like I was driving through a post card. Two thoughts occurred to me several times: 1) this is a really big country, and 2) our God’s handiwork is literally stunning in it’s grandeur and beauty. If the creation is so grand, what does that say about the Creator?…

So, I am in Escondido now, getting ready to start “Boot Camp Greek” on Tuesday. I’m living about ten minutes from the seminary in a five-bedroom house with five other guys, three of whom are also incoming seminary students. It’s a great setup, and the Lord has been very, very gracious to provide all this.

To all of you who have prayed and who have given financially to help make this possible, thank you, thank you, thank you! I appreciate all of it, and I dearly covet your prayers. Please pray that I, and the other men here, would be faithful soldiers of our King, learning what He would have us learn so that we might more effectively give our lives in service to His Kingdom and His people through the teaching and preaching of the Word.

Again, thank you all for your love and generosity to support the work of the Gospel, the truly Good News, of Christ Jesus.

I hope you enjoy the pictures. They certainly don’t take the place of seeing God’s creation with your own two eyes, but I hope they will be enjoyable anyway. You should be able to click on any picture to see an enlarged version.

Sharon

Her name was Sharon. I was driving home last night after being out of town, and I met her when I stopped for gas. I saw her coming out of the corner of my eye, and I knew she was going to ask me for money — I’ve heard the same lines, the same story,  so many times that I could say it myself:

“Hey man – my car’s broke and I’m stuck here waitin’ for a ride. Could you spare a dollar so I could get something to eat? I’m starvin’!”

Every time it’s a little different — but it’s always the same.

Well, I talk a great game of compassion on my blog, but when I saw Sharon coming, my first thoughts were not compassionate. I suppose I was probably annoyed, because I figured she was probably a drug-addicted prostitute, and she was probably going to ask me for money. Then, she was probably going to get mad when I told her that I would give her food, but no money, and she could probably cause a scene if she wanted to, which would probably make me look bad. Yeah…good job Mr. Compassionate.

“No” I told her, “I can’t give you any money, but I’ve got some food in my car you can have if you want.” I figured this was the part where she was supposed to get mad, ask me again, and then cause a scene…I was wrong.

“Really? Yeah..that would be great! Thanks!” Sharon’s worn, abused face lit-up and she showed her broken teeth. I rummaged in my trunk for granola bars and bottled orange juice; she asked me my name and told me hers, and she gratefully accepted the food. She thanked me again, patted my arm, and walked back to a dirty, dark corner of the parking lot with her limp and her big bag full of miscellaneous items and cheap alcohol.

I felt many emotions over the next several miles, but one of them, and rightly so, was a type of shame for my attitude towards people like Sharon. How can I be annoyed with the broken, hurting people in this world when they represent what I would be without grace? Yes, they destroy their lives with their choices — but so would I without the radical intervention of my Savior. And how can I disdain addicts and prostitutes — am I better than my King Who ate with them and fellowshipped with them? Can I forget that my own heart has often been a harlot, and that if it were not for grace, I would be Gomer, and I would be a slave, and I would live and die in the squalor of my own choices?

Even knowing all this, though, I have failed to love the souls around me as I ought. And I have failed to love their Creator, who is also my Creator, as I ought. And I will continue to fail. But, Jesus did not fail, and He is not failing, and He will never fail. And that is Good News for Sharon, and for me, and for you.

You shall crush his head…

As a kid who grew up in the country, I was forced to do a lot of work-type things that I didn’t particularly want to do. I have vivid memories of cutting and hauling wood in the winter, feeding and caring for chickens, goats, and pigs, fighting the onslaught of the seemingly immortal nut-grass in the garden, and, of course, in the spring and  summer, cutting and weed-eating grass that grew faster than we could cut it. I particularly loathed being forced to get out in the garden at 6:00 AM and work an hour before breakfast, and I doubt that I ever had a particularly godly attitude about it. Similarly, I got annoyed at the huge amounts of grass that had to be cut on a regular basis – the heat was oppressive, the dust clouds were so thick that you needed a mask, and the bugs could be relentless. I think that most of the time my attitude was pretty rotten. Sorry, Dad and Mom.

It’s amazing how time changes one’s perspective, however. After spending the last several years of life with my nose in a book, and after having academic-esque type activities as my source of income, I have found that those forms of work I hated as a kid are now luxuries. Today, I was able to spend part of my afternoon on a tractor in a field, bush-hogging (a.k.a. “mowing” for you non-southerners who might be reading this) a couple acres of untamed weeds, briers, anthills, and grass. It was hot and dusty, and I was assaulted with a constant barrage of various insects that seemed to be playing kamikaze with my face…and I loved.

I wonder how my perspective will be changed in another fifteen years. What things does my Heavenly Father have me doing now that I do only grudgingly, but one day will see as a luxury? Very thankfully, we have a patient and long suffering God.

So, I suppose that today was an attempt at some good ‘ol Genesis “subduing” of the earth. However, it also involved other Genesis themes, namely the striking of a serpent on the head. Before I started on the tractor, my dad called me over to where he had been mowing in another part of the field and showed me the largest rattlesnake I had ever seen up close. Thankfully, it was dead. Apparently it had been coiled, with its head up, ready to strike, when my dad ran over it with the mower. (I suppose in this case it was “one strike and you’re out.”) Thankfully, though my dad did “crush its head,” it did not bruise his heel.

I don’t know if the pictures below do justice to the snake’s size, but it  measured five feet, and, we guessed, weighed about ten pounds (though that is only a guess).

Rest

After several days away, surrounded by heat and sand and sunscreen and Jr. High boys who, though wonderful, do not have a particularly keen sense of “cleanliness” regarding cramped sleeping quarters and shared bathrooms, it is good to be home. It is good to rest, to sleep in a room that is not full of damp towels, dirty cloths, exploding gym bags, and extremely squeaky bed frames and mattresses. Those things all added to what is a great memory, but it is still good to be home.

How much more will it be good to be home from the journey of a short life — a life that is sovereignly good and necessary, but is likewise surrounded by corresponding “unpleasantness’s” — and then enter into true rest.

His Bride

I spent almost eleven hours in a tux today — I think that’s a record for me. To clarify, I’m not saying this is a bad thing…it wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable thing…but it was a good thing (which, come to think of it, is a neat illustration: just because something isn’t comfortable doesn’t mean it isn’t wonderful). Eleven hours in a tux was indeed a wonderful thing — it was wonderful because friends were getting married and starting a new life, and a very visible representation of Christ and the church was portrayed in those incredibly tender moments.

In fact, being a very close spectator to the journey that brought this husband and wife together, the journey that traversed mountains and valleys and deserts and fertile fields, gives me great hope and joy in thinking about our Christ and His bride, the church. It is a very special thing to realize that, just as this groom, who is not perfect,  has, out of love, pursued and won his bride, and just as this bride, who is not perfect, has been won by her husband and loves him deeply and fervently, so also our Savior, who is perfect, will one day draw His church to the most blessed marriage feast in all eternity. Then, we, His bride, will love Him deeply and fervently, and we will be beautiful, because He has made us beautiful.

That day will come, for it is our God Who has guaranteed it. And it will be perfect…for it is our God Who will accomplish it.

May that day come quickly, and may our Father grant us the grace to be faithful until that day.

“Then I heard what seemed to be the voice of a great multitude, like the roar of many waters and like the sound of mighty peals of thunder, crying out,

‘Hallelujah!
For the Lord our God
the Almighty reigns.
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;
it was granted her to clothe herself
with fine linen, bright and pure’—
for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.”
~Revelation 19:6-8

“Fear thou not, nor be ashamed;
All thy sorrows soon shall end,
I, who heaven and earth have framed,
Am thy husband and thy Friend;
I, the High and Holy One,
Israel’s God, by all adored,
As thy Savior will be known,
Thy Redeemer and thy Lord.”

~ John Newton, 1779
“Pensive, Doubting, Fearful Heart,”
Taken from the Gadsby Hymnal

A List

A friend recently related to me the blessings of simply listing the delights and good things that God pours on us in His bounteous grace. Since graduate school looms right around the corner and I will most likely not have time to blog as much, and since today was a perfect day from which to make a list, and since this day is still fresh on my mind, I shall now write such a list. However, the hour is late, so this list will have to be much shorter than it should be. Still, it is what it is, and I thank my gracious God for these things:

1) Good conversation and good laughs over a late Chick-Fil-A breakfast.

2) A large group of inner-city boys who enjoy the swimming pool very much, who want to be helped into the pool and out of the pool, who want to climb onto your back and onto your shoulders, who want to learn how to “float” (tread water), who want to do flips and chew gum and make plans for who gets the front seat on the way to lunch.

3) A smaller group of those same boys riding in my little car, turning the radio to a local hip-hop station and  “dancing” (the type that can be done in a car), and then being rather humored at the totally uncoordinated white-boy who is also trying to “dance.”

4) Enjoying the realization that if I too were black, I just might have rhythm and might successfully pull-off car dancing. (Unfortunately, I am not, and I did not).

5) Enjoying the realization that if I too were black, I wouldn’t have to be too concerned about the amount of time I spend in a swimming pool sans sunscreen. (Unfortunately, once again, I am not, and I should be).

6) ESL students who can see their own hard work paying off.

7) Korean households that have a very particular smell and feel to them.

8) Dinner with dear, faithful friends – remembering the past, enjoying the present, and looking forward to the future. Watching the children of those friends play and squeal and enjoy life.

9) A long drive home with the windows down on a cool, June evening.

10) The intoxicating smell of summer air at night, complete with honeysuckle and magnolia blossoms.

11) Being greeted at home by a bull-frog, crickets, and a perky little dog who loves it when her people come home.

12) Aloe Vera gel.

13) Having the time to write a list of delights and blessings.

A Short Leave

We leave tomorrow (Monday); we will get back on an airplane and travel back through time and space and arrive in another place with other people, other trees, other architecture, other small birds, other memories — but the same God.

The visit has been wonderful, and for all of you who have been praying, I am truly grateful, and I sincerely thank you. I have indeed found a place to stay, so thanks be to our God. I also have a “western” bank account now, a much improved knowledge of Escondido roads, new friends, and much good advice about how to manage the rigorous academic demands of a WSC education. So, it seems that all I must do now is wait for mid-July, drive across the country, unpack my car, and start Greek.

Besides being blessedly productive, this trip has also been a delight. In thinking about that delight, several things, “large” and “small,” come to mind. Here are a few of those things:

1) A several-thousand foot view of clouds from inside a flying piece of metal. The clouds spread out like an ocean, or several oceans, in the sky, and the oceans grew their own islands — white islands that were tall and majestic, soft, gentle, and pure with a purity that was not haughty.

2) Becoming the proud owner of new Greek primer, handed to me by the author of that primer, and various discussions with that author, most of which involved things such as acacia trees, fountain pens, and inner-city ministry, not Greek.

3) Discussions with new friends about survival skills, Hebrew vocabulary, theology, professor idiosyncrasies, the love of Jesus Christ, and more survival skills. Discussions with old friends about literature, theology, life, the love of Jesus Christ, and…even more survival skills.

4) Fellowshiping over meals with humble, world-renowned scholars who love King Jesus, His church, and His people.

5). Finding myself walking alone along a cool, rugged beach. It was a gray day, but it was a beautiful gray, and I looked out into the seemingly endless expanse of waves and swells and beautiful gray. The waves came in and brought with them the promises of God and the goodness of God, and the gulls glided lazily overhead — rising, dipping, falling, rising — calling out to each other, telling each other that their Creator was beautiful. I walked and I gazed — gazed at the miniature cliffs on my left and the faithful waves on my right, the sand packed firm by the waves, and the bits and pieces of shells and rocks in that firm sand — and I contemplated. And it was good, because He Who “prescribed limits” for the sea, Who tells the proud waves “thus far shall you come, and no farther,” is good.

6) Hearing the joyful, thankful, humble, tearful testimonies of graduates. Realizing that those graduates are intent on being soldiers for our King, intent, by grace, to bring the light and healing of that King into a cruel, dark, broken world.

7) Seeing a fat, little sparrow enjoy the protection of a big, fat bush.

8) Studying at a large, wooden table by a large window, surrounded by books on theology, history, and philosophy.

9) Hearing “Dude…you can live with us.”

10) A diminutive Vietnamese waiter with a broken tooth and a broad smile.

11) Rich, dark, creamy, slightly-sweet coffee on cool, misty California mornings. Sitting in front of the coffee shop with my dad, talking about life, his memories of the Navy and California, and the love of Jesus Christ.

12) Taking the Lord’s Supper and, along with the “normal” words of institution, hearing/reading “…all who repent and believe are invited to this sacred meal not because you are worthy in yourself, but because you are clothed in Christ’s perfect righteousness. Do not allow the weakness of your faith or your failures in the Christian life to keep you from this table. For it is given to us because of our weakness and because of our failures, in order to increase our faith by feeding us with the body and blood of Jesus Christ.”

So, tomorrow we leave, but for me, it is only a short leave. This place will soon be my home — in a temporary sort of way. In fact, the home I’ve had for these first young years is also temporary, although it’s hard to remember because that home feels less temporary. I hope and pray that living here, and living the life the Lord has for me here, will remind me that all the living I have in this life is not mine, and is only temporary.

May we all be faithful in this temporary. By grace, may we be faithful.