Worst Day Ever?

This morning, I began reading the book of Job (I had initially planned to do that “Bible in a Year” plan, but it’s been a year, and well, this is as far as I’ve gotten…). I got to the end of chapter one, where Job has just received word that his livestock has been stolen, his servants murdered, and his ten sons and daughters all killed in a freak accident. Now, I’ve had some bad days, but nothing that comes close to this. Now, look at Job’s response:

“At this, Job got up and tore his robe and shaved his head. Then he fell to the ground in worship…”

What, seriously? The man has just received the worst news of his life, and his first response is to worship God. That’s amazing. In my heart, I want to be able to praise God in any circumstance, a feat so much easier said than done. By worshipping in the midst of tragedy, Job shows us that God is so much bigger than our circumstances. Even when we don’t understand what’s happening in our lives, we can still trust that God is good, and loving, and holy.

Job goes on to say,

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away, may the name of the Lord be praised.”

What a perspective… to know and accept that everything we have, even for a short time, is a blessing from the Lord. What humility to know that we aren’t owed anything in this life. What peace to know that, even in difficult circumstances, God is still in control.

I’m not so sure I’m ready to tear my clothes and shave my head, but to be more like Job and respond in worship at all times, through the good and the bad, this is my heart’s true desire.

On the Eve of My New Career

I should already be in bed, but I had to share one story before I sleep.

Tonight was the Annual Meeting for Fair Oaks Church, our new church home and my new employer. More than 200 people were in attendance to receive reports from individual ministry leaders on the previous year's ministry goals, to review the church's financial reports, and to hear about plans for the upcoming year.

I learned a lot about the church, including the fact that hiring a youth pastor was one of the church's ministry goals at last year's meeting. They searched for 13 months before the Lord brought me here, which means that they were looking to hire a youth pastor even before I left for the World Race last year. If only God would have brought me here last year instead, I could have saved the church the trouble!

But the Lord, in His wisdom, knew that He needed to lead me all the way around the world before bringing me back here to Northern California, in order to prepare me for what lies ahead.

As they introduced me tonight and brought me forward, a cheer went up from the crowd (in no small part, led by a quartet of high school girls seated at our table). I was honored to have J.C. and Russ, the church's volunteer junior high and high school directors respectively, lay their hands on me and offer prayers of dedication. They prayed for protection for my marriage, for God's vision for the youth ministry at Fair Oaks to be clear to me, and they thanked God for the heart that He has given me. As these prayers rose up to the Lord, I felt this wave of peace and gratitude wash over me. A reminder that God's Presence is with me, and that He goes before me in everything I do.

Pastor Steve handed me the mic and asked me if I'd like to say a few words, and if you know me, you know I said, "Yes." And as I began to thank the body for the love they have shown Katherine and me, I couldn't help but get a little choked up. God has given me such a tender heart for this church, and for its teenagers in particular. Tears come to my eyes when I think about them for any amount of time, even as I type this.

I welcome this brokenness, and I receive it as yet another lesson from the Lord, teaching me what it means to be His shepherd.

And the Winner Is...

It’s official… Oscar is coming to town! Now that the Academy Award nominations have been released, Gary and I can commence our (almost) annual tradition of attempting to see each of the best picture nominees. This tradition has been a part of our lives since we first started dating back in college. 1997 not only happened to be a great year for us personally, but a stellar movie year as well: As Good As It Gets, The Full Monty, Good Will Hunting, L.A. Confidential, and Titanic. Wow! What a lineup!

Since then, we’ve tried to see as many of the best pic nominated films as possible, so that we’re fully informed to make our best predictions on Oscar night. I love the fact that even if a movie turns out to be a ‘dud’, Gary and I still have a great time analyzing the acting, directing, screenplay, etc.

Last year was the first time to break tradition, due to a little thing in our lives called the World Race, which resulted in extremely limited access to movie theatres. (Turns out, that was ok, I had no desire to see that gay cowboy movie anyways…) Well, now we’re back, and ready to revive our cinematic date nights.

So, without further ado… this year’s Best Picture Nominees are:

-Babel
-The Departed
-Letters from Iwo Jima
-Little Miss Sunshine
-The Queen

We haven’t yet seen ANY of these, but it’s a challenge I look forward to meeting. (Perhaps our resident movie reviewer would be willing to contribute his two cents on each film as we go…) If any of you have seen these films, I'd love to hear who you think has the best chance of going home with an Oscar, just, please, no spoilers! (Not even tiny, little, insignificant ones!)

A Close-Knit Family: An Ode to Knitting

For me, knitting is the perfect hobby...

I love to wander the aisles of Michaels, touching all the soft yarn in the rainbow of colors.

I imagine all the delightful things I could make.

I can knit anywhere – while traveling, in waiting rooms, while watching television or just hanging out.

I can relax – and be productive – at the same time!

There’s something about wearing an item I made myself that makes me feel independent, able, womanly.

I just can't decide which I like better: the knitting itself, or modeling the final product...

My Bilingual Adventure

After days on end of unpacking boxes and arranging furniture in our new home, Gary and I took a much needed break last night to get out of the house. With our new DVR set to record “Scrubs” in our absence, and an admonition to Billy to ‘guard the house’, we set out to go explore the local mall. Where best to spend time with one’s true love, and to get a taste of the local culture?

Our first stop was at Cingular, to pick out cell phones and sign up for our new plan. Yep, that’s right… Gary and I now EACH have our own cell phone! This was a day I thought would never come, due to Gary’s historical loathing of the item, but as we commence a life of full-time youth ministry, it just made sense to both of us to be easily reachable. DVR, cell phones… we are re-entering America in true technological fashion!

From Cingular, we wandered past countless displays of cute summery outfits that wouldn’t be wearable for a few months, unless one is planning a trip to the Southern Hemisphere in the near future… which I’m not. I was pleased to note the presence of an H&M, which I will surely be frequenting in the future, and confounded by a Bebe “Sport” shop, which I most surely will not…

As we wandered on, I was thrilled to find a specialty shop displaying exotic finds from Africa – I rushed in, hoping to find a necklace with a specific pendant, shaped in the outline of the African continent (just like Lillian used to wear all the time!). I had a great chat with the cashier, a lovely lady named Shella, and though she wasn’t able to provide me with the necklace that I desperately want, she suggested that I may have luck at a market in Berkeley. We traded e-mail addresses, and I promised to send her pictures from our recent trips to Kenya and Swaziland.

As Gary and I walked out of the shop, reminiscing over our good times with our African friends, dreaming about when we may someday return, and complaining over the marked-up prices of djembe drums in the states, we were suddenly interrupted by an elderly Mexican woman.

“Canela!” She directed at us intently. My mind began to whirl… “Is she trying to tell me her name? That doesn’t sound like a Spanish name… Oh, I know this word; c’mon, Katherine…” I’m not accustomed to old ladies suddenly shouting at me in Spanish.

“Canela! Con Limon! Para la garganta!” She insisted.

Cinnamon! Of course, I knew that one. Phew! The lady had overheard Gary’s cough (he still sounds pretty bad) and was trying to give me instructions on a tea to prepare for his throat. Once I had a little context for this unexpected conversation, I was able to conjure up my Spanish and talk with her.

“Si, el tiene tos para dos semanas. Puedo darle te con canela y limon para la garganta. Gracias.”

We spoke for a while, then she asked me, “Hablas espanol?” I had to laugh to myself… What kind of question was that? Yes, I spoke Spanish. I’ve been speaking Spanish to her for a couple of minutes now! We spoke a little more, then I thanked her profusely, and Gary and I walked away, smiling.

Is this seriously my life now? Do strangers approach me to give me advice in another language, and I actually understand them? This brief interaction brought to the surface my search for identity as a former world racer.

Though my transition back to life in the states has been surprisingly smooth, I definitely have these moments of wondering who, exactly, I am now. Am I still, at heart, the traveling missionary? Can I hold on to the principles of ‘traveling light’, of simplicity, and community that come with that gypsy lifestyle? Or do I more fit in with the established, affluent community here in Northern California? Are the resources that wealth can bring a blessing, or a distraction, or both? Is there any inherent contradiction in shopping at H&M, cell phone in hand, then proudly relating stories of roughing it in the African slums, just a few minutes later?

Though I didn’t anticipate an identity crisis in the middle of our first date here in Concord, I welcomed the chance to ask myself these questions. Though time will only tell, to discover if these questions have any answers…

The Place to Start...

I guess, first off, I should explain the name, "Feed My Sheep." As some of you may have already guessed, it is a reference to the conversation between Jesus and Peter found in John 21:15-17.

The one question Jesus has for Peter is, "Do you love Me?"

Peter answers, "Yes, of course, Lord. Of course I love You."

Jesus' reply is a command. "Feed my sheep."

A few months ago, as I sat under a tree in an arboretum in Kenya, I had a similar conversation with the Lord. I was praying about the future, and what would happen upon my return to the States. I asked God, "Who am I really? Because You made me, you must know, so tell me, Lord, who am I?"

His answer welled up out of my heart like a whisper, like the soft-spoken word of a father to his son: "You are my shepherd."

A smile crept across my lips, and I knew in my heart that this was true and right. I flipped my Bible open to the concordance and looked up all the entries under the heading of "shepherd." I savored every passage. Each and every one of them described either who I am, or who I want to be. My character, my heart, my hopes and dreams. I am God's shepherd.

Soon after that, Katherine and I began praying and searching for a youth pastor position for me back in the States. This coming Monday, just about four months after that day under the tree in Kenya, I'll begin my new career as Minister to Youth and Young Adults at Fair Oaks Church in Concord, California.

So, the title of this weblog is something of an exhortation for me. I do love Jesus with all my heart, and I want to show Him my love. I want to feed His sheep.

And I have to give credit where credit is due; it was my Ever-Lovin' Wife who came up with the name.