Following in the steps of William Carey...

When he has brought out all his own, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice.

John 10:4

"I'm honored to have this opportunity to share with you our sheer joy at following in the steps of William Carey..."

With the verse above as his backdrop, and "following in the steps of William Carey" as the opening line, Tom Thurman delivered the William Carey lecture in our chapel time at WCU.

It was incredible!

I am so very blessed and honored to call Tom & his wife Gloria friends. Let me tell you just a bit about them.

There's an old hymn that goes like this:

There’s a call comes ringing over the restless wave,“Send the light! Send the light!”

There are souls to rescue there are souls to save,Send the light! Send the light!
Send the light, the blessèd Gospel light; Let it shine from shore to shore!

Send the light, the blessèd Gospel light;Let it shine forevermore!

Tom said that he & Gloria used to sing that hymn often. Very stirring words. One day, he felt impressed that God was telling him "I don't want you to send the light; I want you to take the light over the 'restless wave'."

So, in 1965, Tom resigned his pastorate with his young bride, and headed across the pond. Way across the pond. To what was then East Pakistan, now Bangladesh. Ferociously, militantly Moslem, combined with Hindu. A vastly different culture...with a completely different and challenging language. You know the pictures we see on the news of nearly annual flooding on a vast scale? That's Bangladesh. A long, long way from Monticello, MS.

35 years later, Tom and Gloria came back home. Their sons--both raised in Bangladesh--came to America to attend college. One son, Philip, is a dear friend of mine. He was on staff @ my church for a while; now he pastors a church up north of Jackson. Couple hundred members, mostly totally unchurched previously. The church started...(wait for it)...in Philip's living room 5 years ago. As I told Tom this morning, Philip is doing up north of Jackson exactly what he saw his folks do while Philip was growing up in Bangladesh. Philip is one of the most effective evangelists I have ever run across. Speaks 4 languages fluently, and can scramble his way through some others. The missionary focus of Tom & Gloria Thurman lives on in their two sons. I 'spect it is taking root in Philip & Lori's three children too. BTW, I asked Philip once what language he thinks in. Despite graduating from Mississippi College & Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, and despite working in Atlanta for a few years, and despite marrying a Mississippi girl, he told me that he thinks in Bengali. "Home" to Philip means Bangladesh.

Monday morning, Tom showed us his copy of the Bengali translation of Scripture that William Carey translated. That's William Carey the guy...back in the early 1800s...the "Father of the Modern Missionary Movement." William & his associate travelled in the same part of the world back then. There are churches over there that still today have markers commemorating their speaking there. When Carey completed this particular translation, he remarked that his life's work was complete. He died shortly after. Tom calculates that he and Gloria are either the 9th or 10th generation of missionary in that part of the world. So when Tom spoke of "following in the steps of William Carey," he was speaking very literally.

So many stories, many of which I have heard while sitting in Tom & Gloria's living room in Columbia. Here's just two.

Tom offered a young man a ride in his rickshaw one day in the mid 1980s. Made contact, shared addresses, and kept in touch. A couple of years later, due to his continued contact with Tom, that young man became a Christian. An outspoken Christian (like we're all supposed to be...). The local Moslems were not amused. After prayer one day (ironic, huh?), they took the young man and beat and tortured him severely. (I'll spare the details, which are gruesome to ponder). Left him for dead. He was found the next day (still unconscious) and taken to a hospital, where he eventually recovered.

The end of that story? That same young man's reaction to the beating was to follow in the steps of Paul and Silas who rejoiced that they were counted worthy to suffer for the sake of Christ. The guy has started 7,000 churches in villages all over Bangladesh & eastern India. Over 300,000 & counting former Hindus & Moslems will be in glory because of the guy. Who will be in glory because this soft-spoken, southern gentleman from Monticello, MS was listening to a call that he himself gave to his church regularly. To take the light...the blessed gospel light. And that's just one of Tom & Gloria's spiritual children.

The other story involves a war. Remember George Harrison's "Concert for Bangladesh" in the early 1970s? Great concert/album. But the event that inspired GH to put on that concert was the civil war that ultimately resulted in "East Pakistan" becoming "Bangladesh." When the war broke out, Tom & Gloria prayed for direction. Nobody would have blamed them had they come back to America with their two young sons. They stayed. Philip remembers listening to the artillery & mortars around their village. The morning after one particular mortar barrage, Tom & Philip went walking through the village to check on their neighbors. The Moslem shopowners came up and said "Mr. Tom! You are here! We have hope because you are here..." (yeah, I know...chokes me up too, and I've heard/told the story a bunch of times...)

On behalf of Tom & Gloria Thurman...and William Carey before them...and Paul & Silas before them...will you go? More than that, on behalf of countless millions who have yet to hear...the countless millions who are "all His own" and who are waiting to "follow Him" and to "hear His voice" and join us in the white-hot eternal worship party around the throne...will you go?

Note carefully, as Tom reminded us this morning, it's wherever you are. Your home. Your neighborhood. Your workplace. Your county. Your state. Your nation. And maybe, just maybe, the other side of the world.

They're all waiting...let's all take the light!

bb

p.s. - thanks, Tom, for following so well...and for encouraging and challenging all who cross your path...and for letting me sit in your living room as a friend. Your reward in glory continues to grow. Only eternity will show how great it is.

The Lesson of the Busted Concrete

George Jones entered eternity late last week. (not the Silver Fox of country music fame who sang "He Stopped Lovin' Her Today"...I'm thinking of a much more significant George Jones)

George's son Barry was a year ahead of me in high school and we also went to UF together. Last I knew, Barry was in Birmingham as an engineer of some sort. George's beloved wife Lil worked with my mother for some years.

Mr. George was a very pleasant & very funny guy. All of us friends of Barry's enjoyed hanging around George. I remember a classic line of his from years ago. It was homecoming @ UF (this was back when they were still a terrible football team), and Mr. George had come down for the game. Naturally, a huge party @ mine & Barry's fraternity house was part of the weekend. (George was part of that same fraternity back in his day at MSU) Fairly early in the evening, Mr. Jones pulled Barry & me & a couple other guys aside & gave us this sage advice: "Fellows, I've been looking, and have noticed that there's quite a nice herd of ladies running around here. I believe if I were a young single man like you guys, I could cut me one out of that herd!" I still chuckle at that line today.

Mr. Jones ran a construction business in Ft. Walton Beach. Which is neither here nor there, except for the huge impact that particular business had on me. As many of you know, my UF academic record was...not awesome. *clears throat nervously* Such that I had to lay out of the Spring quarter of my freshman year. I recall Mom telling me that she had talked to George & that he had a job for me. This remains one of the most important jobs I ever had. My job was to clean up all of the junk around where they were building things and haul said junk off to the junkyard. You know all the cool construction jobs that involve hammers & toolbelts &, well, actual skill? This wasn't one of those.

You know the big tubs of liquid cement that they hoist up to upper levels of buildings? Yeah, well, that gets jostled & spilled a pretty good bit. You know what happens to cement after it's poured out? It gets hard. Still with me? Good, because here's where I started my construction career. My very first construction task was to take a sledge hammer & bust up a rather large slab of spilled & hardened concrete, toss the chunks into the back of the truck, & haul 'em off. Did I mention that it's usually quite warm in the Spring in NW FL? Especially on construction sites when one is a sledge-hammer-swinging laborer?

So, why is this such an important job? Because rather early in the morning on my very first day of construction work, I concluded that maybe going to class & studying aren't so bad after all! I will always be convinced that Mr. Jones selected this particular task on purpose on my first day to teach me this particular lesson. And I will always be grateful for the lesson of the busted up concrete. Years later after my stuff was rather more together, I told Mr. Jones about that particular lesson & asked if he did that on purpose. He just smiled that great smile of his and patted me on the shoulder.

I like to think that before dementia took his mind, George Jones became proud of who I became, and recognized that he had more than a little bit to do with that. I'll always cherish that thought too.

Thanks for everything Mr. Jones! Especially the lesson of the busted concrete! You made a huge difference in the life of a young clueless 18-year-old. RIP, my friend & fraternity brother. See you on the other side...

With love and fond memories and much appreciation,
Mike

p.s. - please join me in praying for Mrs. Lil and for Barry and Barry's kids and for Karen (Barry's sister), won't you?

Because of Cancer,...

...I am reminded of the brevity of life.

...I am very well aware that the human body is fragile.

...we are aware that there is some absolutely incredible medical technology in use these days.

...we are acquainted with some utterly amazing medical professionals who are giving their lives to the very worthy goals of eradicating cancer and of caring for those suffering from the dreadful disease.

....I am much more keenly aware of the evil, destructive nature of the disease. I hate cancer with a passion!

...I absolutely cherish any & all time I get to spend with Lisa

...I treasure any & all time I get to spend with James & Annne

...I am more mindful of my need to extend grace toward others. (Note: I wish I could say "I'm now showing grace to others"...I am working hard on being what Philip Yancey calls a "grace agent" but I ain't there yet.)

...my priorities have been gloriously re-ordered: faith, family, friends, everything else (in order)

...I am better @ my job (I hope!) and am more thankful for it.

...I am more mindful of people around me (e.g., students, coworkers).

...I've been reminded that I am so very blessed with so many marvelous friends who have gone so far above & beyond.

...I have reconnected with some friends from long ago; high school even!

...I have met and made some great new friends--some only online--but still already consider them great friends.

...I have experienced the Body of Christ gloriously doing what the it's supposed to do.

...I have greatly renewed my prayer life and feel a new sense of urgency about prayer.

...God has greatly renewed my love for His Word.

...God has given me an increased love for the church (capital C - Body of Christ, and small C - my part of it - TBC)

...I have a renewed longing for heaven (note: I'm planning to go there any time right away, Lord willing...but the deep longing is there)

...I have a heightened awareness of the deep pain cancer leaves when it claims a loved one's life.

...I deeply desire to be used by my Lord to impact the world and build up His kingdom. (Would you pray with me to that particular end? Thanks!!)

...Stress? What stress? I'm a 2-time cancer survivor for crying out loud, who has undergone hundreds of thousands of dollars of surgeries, immunotherapy, tests, & such. Lord, let me never forget that so much that we get stressed about (the economy/stock market, anyone??) is so very temporal and not worthy of getting all worked up over!

...oh, I almost forgot this one: Because of cancer, I now look like I lost a knife fight. But be of good cheer; remember that my cancer is sun-related. Thus, these really cool scars will not be on display in public. So relax...*grin*

On a serious note, these are just some of the things I've been pondering during & following our medical year from Hades. I am thankful for every lesson learned! Sure, I might've chosen a different teaching vehicle, but I love the lessons and hope never forget any of them. There's how you can pray for me, btw. Pray for God to cause those lessons to sink in...feel free to appropriate any of the relevant ones into your own life. You're welcome! *smile*

bb

Dancing with Cinderella

18 years ago today, I became something I had never been before. The entire trajectory of my life changed, and I am SOOOOO much better & blessed because of it.

That morning, October 10, 1990, we called our next-door neighbor to come over & stay with our 2-year-old son. (She still laughs with us about the detailed parental instructions we left with her—limited # of videos, food limits, etc.—all of which instructions were immediately & promptly ignored by her and by James…) Then, off to Forrest Gen’l Hospital we went.

Events of the day moved along as scheduled for a while. Then progress just stopped. A Dr. said there was no reason to be alarmed, but that he had a hunch. Thus, the events of the day deviated from schedule. Surgery was ordered. A gown was ordered for me.

18 years ago today, I watched a miraculous surgery from start to finish. Standing a couple of feet away from where the actual cutting was being done. Pass out? Not on your life! I was much, much too excited to pass out…. It was an amazing day. The surgery itself—and the watching thereof—is one of the single greatest events of my life.

For on this day, Rebecca Anne Madaris entered the world & was welcomed to the planet by her Mother, her big brother James, and me.

"She spins and she sways to whatever song plays
without a care in the world
And I'm sitting here wearing the weight of the world
on my shoulders
It's been a long day, and there's still work to do;
she's pulling at me saying, 'Dad I need you
There's a ball at the castle and I've been invited,
and I need to practice my dancing…
Oh please, Daddy, please' "

I was the goofy, doting father. Still am. Becoming/being the father of a daughter bored into the depths of my heart & soul and taught me things about myself and about the nature of my Lord that I am still trying to get my mind around. What a blessing!!!

2-year-old James never wavered a bit in his confident prediction that it would be a girl. (We didn’t know…tried to find out, but Anne didn’t cooperate…*grin*) When I would try to convince James that a little brother would be OK too, his constant response was “no we don’t; it a gull.” He was right, and I am most blessed because of it.

I’ll spare you from the thousands of images & word pictures that today brings to my emotional heart. Well, Ok…maybe just a few...you knew it was coming! *smile*

"So I will dance with Cinderella
while she is here in my arms
'Cause I know something the prince never knew
Oh I will dance with Cinderella,
I don't want to miss even one song
'Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight,
and she'll be gone"

Anne has been a lover of words since before she could even pronounce them or understand them. Mom’s husband Will used to chuckle about infant Anne trying to make the same noises come out of her mouth that the rest of us were saying. I’ve written in this space about Anne’s lifelong love of singing and of being sung to. She also has long enjoyed reading and being read to. One evening around age 2, Anne disappeared into her room & reappeared with 4-5 of her books. She marched into the living room, plopped herself up on the couch next to her Mother and said “teach me to read.” It came across as “I’ve got a spare 5-10 minutes, so let’s go ahead & take care of this reading thing…”

Rebecca St. James was a favorite of hers, along with Point of Grace. And of course, there were the daily viewings for several years in a row (literally!) of Cinderella and The Sound of Music. And then, school...Anne was most disappointed when she got to kindergarten and discovered that there was no actual homework involved. (Aside: this view of homework changed somewhere between kindergarten and, oh, 12th grade…*grin*) Not long after, I was granted the incredible privilege of baptizing Anne after she professed faith in Christ.

"She says he's a nice guy and I'd be impressed;
she wants to know if I approve of the dress
She says, 'Dad the prom is just one week away
and I need to practice my dancing…
Oh please, Daddy please' "

Anne is still a lover of words, music, and people. She’s a good writer who loves to read. (My own theory is that there is no such thing as a good writer who does not love to read…) She loves to sing and to listen to a wide variety of music. And she shares with my Mother a remarkable trait: Anne has never met anyone that she does not already know! (my description of both of them...BTW, Anne & Mom are both "Daddy's girls" too as I was just thinking about it...) She loves meeting new people and learning what makes them tick. She has a quick mind with a neat ability to synthesize new information and to learn new things. Basically, she thinks very well.

Oh I will dance with Cinderella
while she is here in my arms
'Cause I know something the prince never knew
Oh I will dance with Cinderella,
I don't want to miss even one song
'Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight,
and she'll be gone...She will be gone

And now, as of today, she’s 18 years old. Yesterday, I literally watched her draw her first breath and learn to walk and talk. Last night, I sang to her regularly. Early this morning, she rode off to prom with some hammerheaded, hairy-legged boy. Now she is 18. You know how some birthdays seem to have huge significance? 13…21…30…50 (*sigh*)…Well, 18 is one of the biggies.

I haven’t a clue what Anne’s future holds. My prediction is that it will involve music, thinking, and people. I do know that I am deeply enjoying watching her calling work itself out. And I know that our shared Lord is shaping and molding her. Mainly, though, I know that Anne’s potential is huge, and that she’s ready to grab hold of her future, and that wherever I am, she will always have a home and a warm place of welcome and rest and a cup of coffee and a long bit of conversation. Anne is one of my favorite people on the planet. Time spent chatting with Anne over a Starbucks cup of coffee is time redeemed, to use the biblical phrase. Time well spent. Time enjoyed immensely.

"She came home today with a ring on her hand,
just glowing and telling us all they had planned
She says, "Dad the wedding's still six months away,
but I need to practice my dancing…
Oh please, Daddy please' "

Today, I announce again to all that I am the father of an amazing, complex, fun, creative, beautiful, talented, intelligent daughter named Anne whose future is incredibly bright and promising, and whose past has absolutely blessed my socks off. I, among men, am a man most blessed and gifted in the daughter God gave me. (note: in the son too, as written about earlier this summer…)

So I will dance with Cinderella
while she is here in my arms
'Cause I know something the prince never knew
Oh I will dance with Cinderella,
I don't want to miss even one song
'cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight,
and she'll be gone

The bold & centered words throughout this post are from Steven Curtis Chapman's incredible song "Cinderella" that he wrote when his younger daughters were 3 & 4 years old and his oldest daughter was 21. The song makes me tear up 100% of the time I hear it or read the lyrics. Including right now. Go here to hear this song & see SCC's music video of it; well worth the time to listen! BTW, after the song at the link, Steven explains what prompted the song...Also worth a listen.

*wipes tears & composes self yet again despite having listened to this song about 176 times*

Stevie Wonder sang it so many years ago: Isn’t she lovely? Isn’t she wonderful? I can't believe what God has done…Through us he's given life to one…

Happy 18th Birthday, Anne!!! I love you and am so proud of you. We need to practice our dancing a bit more, don’t we? *smiles*

"Many daughters have done nobly, but you excel them all."
Proverbs 31:29

With much love,
Dad

p.s. - Got a little girl at your house? Go along to every ball at the castle and dance every dance and enjoy every tea party and reading session and ballet lesson and soccer game and whatever else comes along with that. For, as Steven Curtis Chapman said, all too soon the clock will strike midnight, and she'll be gone...MAN, did this day get here in a hurry! I'd give all of my possessions for one more reading of Bosnipian Blastoff or singing of Firefall's "Dolphin's Lullaby" ("Doffin" as Anne called it) or coloring session...

Shadow & Substance

"It ain't the shadow, it's the substance that I'm after."
Rahlo, Blacksoil Project

Rahlo is a friend of ours who has a really remarkable & unique ministry. An English major in college, he is a lover of words and puts them together very creatively and very well. His medium? Hip-hop music. Blacksoil Project is the name used in his musical creations, btw. Hip-hop is not usually my preferred musical groove, I'll confess...but I love Michael's stuff. (I was just listening to his stuff on my ipod while working out this morning). His words are great and deep...and the music pulls you on through a workout!

The above quote is from a song he wrote after the birth of his son. The entire song is incredible, but I love this particular quote, which is a recurring theme throughout the song. There, in one sentence, I believe my buddy has captured what should be the heart of all of us who claim to follow Christ. I also believe that he has nailed a number of people who are chasing the shadows, rather than the substance. The song goes on to say "take a sip of the real before you die..." There's my challenge to me and to you today. Step aside from the shadows & pursue the substance. Take a sip of the real. You won't regret it!

bb

p.s. - Want more info about The Blacksoil Project? Go here to his website. I would particularly call your attention to his store link. I don't (yet!) own the Lewis-inspired Out of the Silent Planet CD, but I do own all of the others. Neither do I (yet!) own a Blacksoil t-shirt. But I will soon. BTW, you can also hear samples of his music by clicking on the audio link.

p.p.s. - Rahlo is married & has a number of young children. He's a native of Hattiesburg, and played college basketball @ U. of New Orleans (yeah...he's not short...) His wife played hoops @ Iowa (she's not short either!). Rahlo says he's not even the best shooter in his own home!

p.p.p.s. - Aside from CD & t-shirt sales, all of their funding comes from personal support. Want to be part of reaching a segment of the harvest field that's not beating down the doors of our churches to get in? Shoot Rahlo an email & ask about becoming a monthly ministry partner. I guarantee you that you won't regret it. He does his thing in schools, in prisons, and all around the world. Click on the "contact" link on his website & you'll see a picture. And if you're wondering about longevity, Rahlo's been in ministry for 20+ years & in the music ministry for a number of years. Again, I guarantee that you'll love him & his family. We do!

Praying with Moses

Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever you had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.
You return man to dust and say, “Return, O children of man!”
The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty; yet their span is but toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away. Who considers the power of your anger,and your wrath according to the fear of you?
So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.
Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.
Let your work be shown to your servants, and your glorious power to their children. Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands!
Psalm 90:1-3, 10-12, 14, 16-17

(back to Mike)
These are the words of "Moses, the man of God." Yeah...that Moses. Who spoke with God face to face as with a man. Who encountered God up on the mountain in such a powerful way that anyone else who touched the base of the mountain would perish. Who witnessed God's supernatural power and provision in the wilderness in ways that still blow our minds today. In other words, a man whose prayer life I'm curious about! And here's one of his prayers, recorded for posterity.

Notice where Moses starts. The majesty and eternality of God, and our utter dependence upon Him. Pretty good starting place for prayers, don't you think?

He also addresses our unworthiness to come before God at all. And the challenges life brings. "toil and trouble." Life's like that sometimes, isn't it? Frequently, perhaps.

To me, the hinge verse is the one in bold italics above. It's been one of my favorites for some years now. "So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom." That is, in light of (a) Your eternal majesty, Lord, and (b) our sinfulness, and (c) the challenges life brings in its brevity, teach us to be good stewards of the days You give us so that we can get a heart of wisdom...so that wisdom will flow from our very being. As my favorite pastor said just yesterday, "theology should always lead to biography." Moses knew that; do we?

Then Moses said, (paraphrasing) "as You grant us good stewardship of our days and grant us a heart of wisdom, Lord, satisfy us with Your love such that we rejoice. And, Lord...show us Your work, and show our children Your glorious power. Finally, Lord, make the work we do for You stand."

Psalm 90:12 first spoke deeply to my soul at a friend's 50th birthday party some years back. We had laughed and eaten and basically abused this guy for turning 50. Then we had a prayer time, which was awesome in & of itself. But my friend--who has been a role model & mentor for me in so many ways--closed out the prayer time in thanksgiving and then with this particular verse. It was a holy moment when the Lord's omnipresence seemed real & palpable in ways that made this ancient Psalm come alive.

Moses' prayer list:
--celebrating the unchanging majesty & presence & provision of God
--reminding himself of the brevity & toils of live
--asking to be taught good stewardship of his days in order to receive a heart of wisdom
--asking for God to satisfy him with His presence and His love
--asking for God to show him what He is doing
--asking God to show His power to his children
--asking God to establish the work of His hands.

A pretty good prayer list there. And mine this morning, as Psalm 90 came up in my time with God.

Would you join me in praying with Moses?

National Suicide Prevention Week

Because of the week--which I had forgotten about--I'm reprising & excerpting some (edited) thoughts I had in Late May/early June 07 when a great friend--who had quite an impact on me--ended his own life. I doubt I'll ever fully recover from that.

If you need a happy, cheery, lighthearted post, come back later. This one isn't it. But I hope you'll let these words--mine, Donne's, & the others'--speak to you. I'd say "enjoy," but I 'spect you won't. I don't really mean for you to, frankly.
Mike

(excerpt starts here--the first part down to the ==== is what I captured in the evening after Mark died. Somehow, some of the writings of John Donne ministered to me greatly that evening. The part below that is from 8 days after he died when the dust had begun to settle.)

On the untimely passing of a dear friend...various words collected from John Donne (Note: these are from multiple poems of his)

Yet nothing can to nothing fall,
Nor any place be empty quite;
Therefore I think my breast hath all
Those pieces still, though they be not unite

As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say,
"Now his breath goes," and some say, "No."

Turn, thou ghost, that way, and let me turn this,
And let ourselves benight our happiest day.

THOU hast made me, and shall Thy work decay?
Repair me now, for now mine end doth haste;
I run to death, and Death meets me as fast,
And all my pleasures are like yesterday...
Only Thou art above, and when towards Thee
By Thy leave I can look, I rise again;
But our old subtle foe so tempteth me,
That not one hour myself I can sustain.
Thy grace may wing me to prevent his art
And thou like adamant draw mine iron heart.

This is my play's last scene; here heavens appoint
My pilgrimage's last mile; and my race
Idly, yet quickly run, hath this last pace;
My span's last inch, my minute's latest point;
And gluttonous Death will instantly unjoint
My body and soul, and I shall sleep a space;
But my ever-waking part shall see that face,
Whose fear already shakes my every joint.
Then, as my soul to heaven her first seat takes flight,
And earth-born body in the earth shall dwell,
So fall my sins, that all may have their right,
To where they're bred and would press me to hell.
Impute me righteous, thus purged of evil,
For thus I leave the world, the flesh, the devil.

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy picture[s] be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou'rt slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then ?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And Death shall be no more;
Death, thou shalt die.

PERCHANCE he for whom this bell tolls may be so ill as that he knows not it tolls for him. And perchance I may think myself so much better than I am, as that they who are about me, and see my state, may have caused it to toll for me, and I know not that...
No man is an island. entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

(back to Mike) So long, Mark. I loved you very much. So did many others. I wish you had known that, and that knowing could've made a difference. As long as I have breath, your legacy will not be reduced to events of that last morning; rather, it will expand to years of faithful loving service and obedience and ministry and seeds sown on fruitful soil that will, by God's grace, bear fruit for years to come. I am a better man...and a better husband...and a better mentor...and a better friend...and a better teacher...and a better apprentice of our shared Lord and Savior because you were my friend. Those thoughts are true of others too. I wish you had known those things too, and that knowing could've made a difference. Thanks, my friend. See you in the land of the eternal dawn! This world seems all the colder and alien today, and that one seems all the closer and more vivid and real...
With much love and a grieving heart,
Mike

===========

What's inside of a container spills out when it's bumped;the same thing happens with people...First, let me promise not to continue dwelling on my friend Mark's suicide last year. Second, let me remind any reader(s) that such a thing leaves a very large wake that jostles the rest of us who are left behind pretty severely for varying lengths of time. Third, let me emphasize to all--if anyone's wondering--that adult friends of Mark's are in varying stages of dealing with his death. We're going through a journey through the valley of the shadow of death just like our young friends; your prayers are welcomed...and ours are passionately and repeatedly offered for our young friends.With those things said, I offer some semi-random blurbs...musings from these last 8 days.

--Encourage the encouragers in your life!
Wonder who those are? Then all who knew him, think of the image that comes to mind when I say these words: Coach Bryan. That, my friends, is an encourager. Make it a point to encourage such folks in your life, for they are a gift from God, and despite appearances, they need encouragement too.

And from the flames
As chance would have it
The Soulforged will come into light
And from the flames
As chance would have it
The Soulforged, the stainless will rise
Blind Guardian, "The Soulforged"

--Soulforged...a great song! BG is a metal group from Germany that's been around for nearly 20 years. James just turned me on to them last year. Their lyrics are very good and thoughtful, and the hard rock they produce is outstanding. Aside from the music, one of the reasons this has become a favorite song of mine is the image of a soul being forged in the flames. (alert: slight context violation by me...but humor me) I am certainly different as of these last months since Mark's passing. Better, I hope...more Christlike, closer to my God, a better man, more loving, more tender toward those around me, etc. And I'm here to tell you: I hate the forging process! But I'm confident in the work of my Maker, Redeemer, and Shaper...even when the process of forging my soul makes me hurt.

--In the midst of questions I cannot answer--never will be able to answer this side of glory--I am drawn back to those things that I know are true. To wit: the Gospel is God reaching through the muck & mire & crap & such to redeem His beloved. Not to immediately remove the beloved from the muck & mire & crap...but to redeem them in the midst of it. We serve a real God Who works in real ways in the midst of a real world. Would I do it differently? Yep. And it would be much worse, and less glorious. Any physician would agree that pain is an absolutely essential survival mechanism for the human body. One might argue the same point in the spiritual realm too, methinks. And through it all, I hear the words of the prophets: "Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?" and "You are loved with an everlasting love" and "My sheep were scattered; they wandered over all the mountains and on every high hill. My sheep were scattered over all the face of the earth, with none to search or seek for them."

--God's word is truer than anything I'll ever feel. That sentence is borrowed from a lady who watched her best friends die in a flood that she barely survived by climbing up a cliff. She then had to ID the bodies of her friends at the morgue. So her words come from the perspective of "been there, done that, it sucked, here's some truth."

--I love my friends. Those my age, and those *coughs* much younger than my age. *coughs again*

--Words matter. Those said, and those left unsaid.
The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.
Harriet Beecher Stowe

--Friends are vital to life. I mean to life itself. And I have not cherished mine enough.

(back to Mike today, Oct 08)
That's what comes to mind as I'm reminded of Nat'l Suicide Prevention Week. Suicide sucks! It's almost basketball season; I don't guess I'll ever be able to watch a hoops game without remember my buddy Mark...especially in Rees Gym @ PCS. I will always be grateful to our shared Lord for Mark's impact on me, as noted above.

Would you pray with me that I'd never again let a friend suffer such anguish & hopelessness alone?

Miss you, Coach. See ya later.
Love,
Mike

No Rocks a-Cryin'

So, yesterday afternoon, I left work a bit early to go to a concert. But wait...not just any concert, mind you. This was the Southern Invitational Choral Conference High School choir concert. Why, you ask? Well, see, there was this one soprano singer who has stolen a large piece of my heart. (hang on...this will make sense & be OK in a minute; I promise!) Lovely young lady. Delightful conversationalist. Friendly & outgoing. Great personality. And did I say lovely? Also, she looks a bit like her mother, who stole a huge piece of my heart over 25 years ago. This particular singer changed the entire trajectory of my life nearly 18 years ago. (Actually, in a couple of weeks, it will be 18 years ago) I'll never be the same because of this singer, and I am so grateful to my God and to her.

I literally watched her take her first breath. And hers was a miraculous birth. Labor just stopped progressing. The Dr. said "I have a hunch..." And so, she was removed. The hunch was justified. The umbilical cord had become wrapped around her neck a couple of times. Had her birth process gone forward without the intervention...well, let's just say that chord-wrapped babies tend not to do too well if they survive. I will always be convinced that the Great Physician chose to stop Lisa's labor and thus protect the lovely singer I'm speaking of...Rebecca Anne Madaris. My daughter.

Anne has loved singing from the time she was a little baby. At first, it was Lisa and/or me singing to her. (Aside: there may not be a more "all-is-right-with-the-world" feeling than singing to a little one as his/her eyes shut in the evening...we sang hymns, plus a wonderful song called "Dolphin's Lullabye" by Firefall--one of my favorite songs ever). Then she wanted to sing with us. Then to us. Then she would sing without us. As she grew, her singing became how we knew she was awake in the morning & ready to get out of the crib. She sang alot. Still does. Most mornings, I'll hear some song belted out--very well, I might add--by my daughter as she does her flossing & moosing & hair curling & hair straightening & whatever else goes on in her room as part of preparing to take on the day. (It's quite a process, but the result is a gorgeous young lady!) These days, Anne's working on putting together a complicated puzzle; thus, the other night I was watching football and being serenaded at the same time. Only, she didn't even realize she was serenading me; she was working on finding puzzle pieces.

These past few years, Anne has been part of the school chorus and of the select ensemble. (Thank you, Barbara Stephenson!) Along the way, Anne developed a very good and strong soprano voice. Her lifelong singing plus a love of listening to many kinds of music has helped her develop a good ear. One of the more awesome life moments I've had (in the real sense of the word...struck with awe) was last year when Anne sang "Till There Was You" as a solo at a concert.

Last year and this, Anne has taken voice lessons through the Carey Institute of Fine Arts from a marvelous teacher, Dr. Connie Roberts. Dr. Roberts has taught Anne techniques that have improved her vocal talent even more. Connie regularly tells me that Anne is very good, and talks of Anne's music future.

I've always thought Anne had a good voice. It's a genetic thing. Lisa has a great alto/2nd soprano voice too. Me? Well, I can pretty much carry a tune...and if I turn up the music loud enough, I can sound just like Chris Tomlin or Larnelle Harris. (or even Leslie West, of Mountain...) But the thing is, there are now other people "in the business" as they say who are telling me that Anne is a good singer. Who am I to argue with the pros? *winks*

So, there I was yesterday, sitting in an auditorium listening to my baby girl and a couple hundred other invited HS singers absolutely knock 3 songs out of the park. One was called "The Famine Song" which I'll get to in a minute. One had a Latin name & words; pretty song, but I wasn't sure if it meant "Lord come help us" or "Dang! My zipper's stuck"...*grin* The third had a spiritual, clap your hands & move with the music feel. It was called "No Rocks a-Cryin'" based on an incredible passage of scripture in Luke 19:37-39:

As he was drawing near—already on the way down the Mount of Olives—the whole multitude of his disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen, saying, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” And some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples.” He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.”

(aside: if you happen to think that worship should always be somber and quiet, you should perhaps re-read this passage...)

I'm not a good enough writer to fully capture what happened in my soul yesterday as my daughter was up there belting out how there would be no rock a-crying because she would praise her Lord. (paraphrase alert) I didn't cry, but I sure thought about it...*blush*

Now about the song "Famine." Inspired by a visit to the Sudan, where famine & poverty & war are taking an eye-popping toll on the people. The writer--a young man not yet 30 when he wrote this--was captivated by the ladies & their children weaving these amazing baskets to catch water in to help make life a little less harsh during a time of drought that took the lives of hundreds of thousands of people. This song really did make me lose it, but I got it back together without totally embarrassing all of y'all. The groove is very slow and moving and haunting all the way throughout. The volume rises and falls. Dissonant chords and lovely harmonies blended together. An anguished sort of feel, with some triumphant parts thrown in there. Then the end: Anne & the others snapped their fingers randomly & not in rhythm. It sounded for all the world like rain, which of course is the intent. An awesome effect.

I grabbed the lyrics to Famine, just so you'd know. I'd say "enjoy" but this is not a particularly enjoyable song. Oh to be sure, it is a gorgeous song, but it goes & grabs your soul & makes you aware of the pain & anguish others face--not an enjoyable thing! But one I'm glad I experienced.

Famine

Ease my spirit, ease my soul,
please free my hands from this barren soil,
ease my mother, ease my child,
Earth and sky be reconciled.

Rain, rain, rain.

Weave, my mother, weave, my child,
weave your baskets of rushes wild.
Out of heat, under sun,
comes the hunger to ev’ry one.

Famine’s teeth, famine’s claw
on the sands of Africa.

Rain, rain, rain.

(lyrics end; back to Mike)

Anne, don't ever let a rock cry out on your behalf! Keep on singing, doodlebug, and know that there's this oh-so-hot old man who is crazy about you and who has loved all 18 years of the songs you've sung with your voice and with your life, and who is so very excited about what the next pages of the score have in store for you.


I love you!
Dad


p.s. - for those of us like me who are...vocally-challenged, let's say...we don't need to let a rock cry out in our place either! My Lord is not so interested in the quality of the notes we sing, but rather in the heart of praise we bring. My slightly-off-key, voice-cracking version of Chris Tomlin's "Amazing Grace/My Chains Are Gone" sounds great in the ear of my Lord & Savior. So let's all let 'er rip and keep the rocks silent!

p.p.s. - Want to hear "The Famine Song"? Here it is, thought not by Anne & that group. This version has some pantomine & dance-ish movements; I'm not sure if those work or not, but the music is great.

Transcendent, Christ-centered living

“Transcendent living is Christ-centered living. Living for Christ is the only way you will ever be liberated from your bondage to the overwhelming tendency to shrink the size of your life to the size of your life. The only way to spin free of the narrow confines of your little cubicle kingdom is to live in the big sky country of Christ-centered living. You will never win the battle with yourself simply by saying ‘no’ to yourself. The battle only begins to be won when you say ‘yes’ to the call of your King, the Lord Jesus Christ.”

- Paul David Tripp, A Quest for More (Greensboro, NC: New Growth Press, 2007), 99.

(back to bb)
Got that in an email this morning. Very timely for me. Maranatha!
Selah,
bb

As Aragorn said when standing before the black gate,...

"Sons of Gondor! Of Rohan! My brothers! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of Men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the Age of Men comes crashing down, but it is not this day! This day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, Men of the West! "

Yeah...that's how I'm thinking this week. My situation in real life is nowhere near dire, though the fear is there and is real when I forget to stare it down and it overwhelms me. Fortunately, this does not happen too often, by the grace of God through the encouragement of His Spirit and of friends.

Cancer is a very scary foe. Not knowing whether one has cancer is also very scary. But this was said by a friend in Sunday School yesterday: "We need to speak the truth to ourselves and remind ourselves of what we know..." My God is still on His throne. He is not scared, nor was He surprised, nor is He wondering how this will all turn out. Comfort beyond my meager ability with words is found in those truths!

Off to Houston/M.D. Anderson Wednesday for Thursday appts.

"By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand..." I will. Will you help by praying for us?

Selah,
bb

I think it was the Beatles who said...

*mouth guitar* da da da da daaaaaa da da *sings* "You say it's your birthday!" *mouth guitar* da da da da daaaaa da da...(supply your own percussion beat)

49. Hoping for many more. Realizing that I've long since had more of these than I will have.

My future is secure & certain, for I know Whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I've committed unto Him against that day. Still, age has a way of bringing to sharp focus what one does with one's life and how very brief it is at the end of the day. And like almost everyone, I could be consumed by regret for time misspent and not redeemed. But (to quote Paul again) "forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus" and rest in His glorious, marvelous, amazing grace. The regrets are there and are quite real. As the poet said, "only one life, 'twill soon be past; only what's done for Christ will last." But the regrets themselves are transformed by God's grace into prioritizers for the future. Basically, as others have said, there are 2 things God's going to take off this earth: His Word and His people. There, ladies & gents, is my focus, even as I strive to be a good professor of economics & finance. In fact, focusing on the Word and on people actually helps me very much in my study and in my teaching.

LORD, what I once had done with youthful might,
Had I been from the first true to the truth,
Grant me, now old, to do--with better sight,
And humbler heart, if not the brain of youth;
So wilt thou, in thy gentleness and ruth,
Lead back thy old soul, by the path of pain,
Round to his best--young eyes and heart and brain.

(George MacDonald's Diary of an Old Soul again)

Selah.
bb

Sometimes others capture me better than I can capture myself...

...and this is one of those times. George MacDonald lived in the 1800s, and had a huge impact on C.S. Lewis, among others.

Here are some snippets from MacDonald's wonderful work "Diary of An Old Soul." Ever wonder how I feel about current things medical? And how I wish I were at all times? And how I try to be? And what I desire to say more often to my Lord? Here's a pretty good running start.

(excerpt starts)

But thou art making me, I thank thee, sire.
What thou hast done and doest thou know'st well,
And I will help thee:--gently in thy fire
I will lie burning; on thy potter's-wheel
I will whirl patient, though my brain should reel;
Thy grace shall be enough the grief to quell,
And growing strength perfect through weakness dire.

I have not knowledge, wisdom, insight, thought,
Nor understanding, fit to justify
Thee in thy work, O Perfect. Thou hast brought
Me up to this--and, lo! what thou hast wrought,
I cannot call it good. But I can cry--
"O enemy, the maker hath not done;
One day thou shalt behold, and from the sight wilt run."

The faith I will, aside is easily bent;
But of thy love, my God, one glimpse alone
Can make me absolutely confident--
With faith, hope, joy, in love responsive blent.
My soul then, in the vision mighty grown,
Its father and its fate securely known,
Falls on thy bosom with exultant moan.

(excerpt ends)

Good stuff, huh? I wish I were more of a poet... John Piper says there are some things so deep in our souls that only poetry can capture them properly. Anyway, I'd suggest grabbing a cup of coffee, setting aside a few minutes and reading the whole thing here. I just did exactly that, and this is a better morning because of it.

And btw, mine is not completely an "old soul" yet, thank you very much. *grins*

"O enemy, the maker hath not done;
One day thou shalt behold, and from the sight wilt run."

May it be so, Father. May it be so.
Selah,
the beach bum

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT - but not about me

Want to save someone's life? Literally?

Are you between 18 & 62?

Then keep reading. And act on what you read.

Right now you can go to www.marrow.org and request a kit to be screened in order to be a potential bone marrow donor for FREE! Yes, I said FREE. Usually one would pay $52, but from May 5-May 19 you can get screened for FREE!

Please pass this along to all family, friends, co-workers, etc.

Wouldn't it be an incredible opportunity to get to save a life?

Also, on Friday, May 17th, there will be another bone marrow drive in honor of a little girl by the name of Madison Courtney. Madison also needs a bone marrow transplant. This drive will also be held at Temple Baptist Church (West Campus). You can view Madison's site by visiting: www.caringbridge.org/visit/madisoncourtney I know this sweet family would appreciate your prayers as well. It is my understanding that this drive will also be free of charge. This is only for a limited time as they are doing a promotion to get potential donors. PLEASE consider doing this if you haven't already done so. PASS the word!

Note: once you're typed, you stay in the marrow registry until age 62. They contact you if your marrow matches someone. And btw, there are no needles in the typing process. (there are needles in the donation process, of course, but none in the typing process. I promise!)

This is not about my medical situation, but I feel very strongly about this. And "save a life" is absolutely not an exaggeration.

On behalf of my good friend Jason Weathers, of this young lady named Madison Courtney, and many others needing a bone marrow transplant, THANK YOU FOR RESPONDING TO THIS!

One Particular Harbor

Jimmy Buffett has captured me multiple times in his lyrics, including those in the song "One Particular Habor." I heard this one today on one of my web radio stations created with Pandora. And was transported once again, as I was the first time I heard the song. Then, I was a clueless college student battling with the latter courses in my major, and stressing about grad school applications. But 2 things kept me sane: (1) my girlfriend, who is now my wife of nearly 24 years, and (2) the occasional trips down to Mom's to enjoy the beach & the water and just generally unplug from stress. So "One Particular Harbor" means much to me as a song, as it reminds me of my safe people & places. Good songs are able to transport one that way...

Here's what J.B. himself said about the song: "I had my sights set on Tahiti a long time ago and connived my way there through my good friend Tom Moffatt in Hawaii. We went there to play a show to an unknown audience, but that didn't matter. I had still made it to Tahiti. At the airport we were met by an old expatriated American named Hugh Kelly who had run away from home a long time ago. We became instant friends, and he took me to his home on Moorea in the mountains above Cook's Bay. When I looked down at the vista, the song came out as if it had been sitting inside me waiting for the moment."

(The Lyrics in part)

I know I don't get there often enough, but God knows I surely try
It's a magic kind of medicine that no doctor could prescribe

But now times are rough and I got too much stuff
I can't explain the likes of me

But there's this one particular harbour; so far but yet so near
Where I see the days as they fade away; and finally disappear

But now I think about the good times, down in the Caribbean sunshine
In my younger days I was so bad, laughin' about all the fun we had

I've seen enough to feel the world spin, mixin' different oceans meetin' cousins
Listen to the drummers and the night sounds, listen to the singers make the world go 'round

Lakes below the mountains, Flow into the sea
Like oils applied to canvas, They permeate through me

And there's that one particular harbour, sheltered from the wind
Where the children play on the shore each day, and all are safe within

Most mysterious calling harbour, so far but yet so near
I can see the day when my hair's full gray, and I finally disappear
(lyrics end)

This past weekend was gloriously spent with my brother at our cousin's most excellent getaway crib in south Alabama. (The cuz was able to join us for Friday night, before having to do his Dr. call thing Saturday & Sunday). And thus, I now have yet another "Particular Harbor" that came to mind earlier today when the song popped up on my Pandora station. My guess is that my blood pressure was rather elevated when I got there, and was much lower by Sunday morning. Those particular harbors...and people...help chill one out that way.

My upcoming journey to M.D. Anderson's melanoma unit looms...and it did, in fact, come up in discussion there on the back porch of Drew's place. But even that discussion did not raise the fears and concerns the same way it would have here. And I assure you, difficult medical situations were a very small fraction of our chats this weekend. We talked of life, love, and other mysteries...music...travel...our shared faith...politics...investments...golf...fishing...our kids...our pasts... It was wonderful!

It truly is a "magic kind of medicine that no doctor could prescribe..." I seem to need that these days. Thanks, Jim & Drew, for administering a very pleasant dose last weekend! Thanks Lisa, for offering me daily views of that One Particular Harbor with your very presence in my life!

Looking forward to my next landing at one of my particular harbors,
Mike

Overfilled with little things

More than a century ago Phillips Brooks observed, “The more we watch the lives of men, the more we see that one of the reasons why men are not occupied with great thoughts and interests is the way in which their lives are overfilled with little things ”
(quoted by Phil Ryken on the Alliance of Confessing Evangelicals page)

What's on your mind?

Great question, that. Usually, though, that question is asked to basically hurry along a conversation or an appointment. As in, "let's get to the point here, so we can move on."

But the larger question of "what's on your mind" is one that all of us should ponder. Especially if one claims to be a follower of Him Who commanded us to love God with our minds, imo, but certainly a question all of us should ponder.

So, here's my list of things that frequently overfill my mind:

--sports - Super Bowl (can the G-men beat the Pats? hope so; don't think so), Bama football, Bama recruiting (especially this week, as national signing day looms), college basketball,...

--music - as the proud, new owner of an ipod (finally!), I'm already discovering that it's feeding a malady I call "musical attention deficit disorder" or (madd). Goes like this: I have a 20-25 minute commute depending on lights & traffic. So, do I go with Miles Davis (always a good thing), or Nightwish (prolly my fave metal band), or Aaron Neville, or Astral Project (my fave jazz combo), or Dr. John ("All by Hisself" - incredible live NOLA R&B solo piano set), or Beethoven, or Kansas, or....wait, it's a red light, which means I can change grooves. Meanwhile, of course, there's the way-cool ability to get podcasts: pastors like my own interim pastor, Tony Merida; John Piper, David Platt, & John MacArthur; U. of Chicago's Graduate School of Business series, which allows me to hear from guys I've read and read about for decades (Nobel laureate Gary Becker, for example); and others...

--the upcoming presidential election - for the record, I'm not real big on any of the candidates thus far. Certainly the election is important, as they all are, but is it really worth obsessing over 10 months ahead of time?

--the ever-growing pile of stuff on my office at work...and on the office at home

--the home repair things that need to happen even though I have basically no game in that area of life

Nothing wrong with any of those things in & of themselves, of course. (especially Bama sports! ) But the problem is exactly what Brooks stated: when my mind becomes "overfilled" with them.

Meanwhile, some great thoughts & interests that methinks should occupy more of my mental bandwidth:
--theology
--missions
--christian worldview type issues
--the seemingly ever-more-rapid acceleration of the world into spiritual oblivion
--wars and rumors of wars
--the utter brevity and frailty of life (my own & those around me)
--loving the Lord my God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength, and equally, loving my neighbor as myself

(that's a good start...)

To offload some of the "little things" requires creating time to ponder the great thoughts & interests. Easy to say about 6:20 a.m., but I already sense this day racing toward me with a thousand things to do and/or ponder, many of which are not "great thoughts & interests." Nonetheless, I'm outta here to go ponder the bigger things, if only for a few minutes.

So, what's on your mind?

Something new to ponder...

I have about 45 minutes a day in the car, plus 3 hours or so every Monday for my commute to/from the coast to teach a class. This great aspect of my gig allows me some contemplative quiet alone time. (Unless, of course, I'm listening to C-Note, J-Dub and da crew hold forth on foxsports radio in the morning...) What a privilege to have that built-in commute time!

As an egghead wannabe, I spend a large part of that time pondering and a part praying. I should, of course, spend the majority praying, but that total depravity thing I wrote about recently rears its ugly head... (I'm reminded of G.K. Chesterton's excellent letter to a British newspaper that had asked people to explain what's wrong with the world. G.K.'s response: "Dear Sirs: What's wrong with the world? I am. Sincerely, G.K. Chesterton")

Recently, however, I have spend a fair amount of that time both pondering and praying. As a Christian who is a university professor and a financial economist, and who used to teach a class called "Christian Worldview," I've long been interested in the intersection of my faith and my academic disciplines of economics & finance. (And there are many such intersections if you're wondering).

As I pondered, I had a Homer Simpson "d'oh!" moment. Why not just check it out for myself! (everybody now: "D'oh!")

Thus, I am launching a long-overdue quest that will take a while--a long while--to complete. I want to find everything the Bible has to say about economics and finance. (hint: Jesus said more about money than He did about heaven & hell combined, according to numerous experts. So much for Jesus' teaching being all about "irrelevant spiritual things"...) The specific approach of finding everything the Bible says about _____ (fill in blank) is called systematic theology. Basically, rather than deciding what I want the Bible to say, I'll just let it explain itself. (novel concept, huh?)

So I'll need your help and your prayers (if you're a pray-er) as I launch. Wayne Grudem and others have done this sort of thing, but one of the great beauties of the Bible is its utter accessibility to an ordinary hammerhead like myself. So I'm off into Christian financial economics professor goober land.

Should be fun! I'm excited!

bb (the goober armchair theologian)

total depravity of man

Should anyone doubt this particular doctrine of the reformers, then s/he should hang around pretty much any kids sports situation for, oh, 20 minutes or so. Doubt should be removed. Decisively.

(did I mention that I reffed kids hoops this morning? *sighs*)

Note: or, you could hang around with me for that same 20 minutes. Or find a way to capture my thoughts, Spock-like, for,...2 minutes. Again, doubt would be removed, at least about the total depravity of Mike anyway.

Total depravity underscores our need for grace. Our "total need" if you will.

Grace is good. I need it. I crave it. I can't survive in this life without it, and certainly not in the next!! I rest in it, and revel in it.

I'm just glad it's offered, and available in unlimited supply.

Selah.

OK, prayer warriors. Your prayers are needed...

...for a very good friend of mine.

Jason Weathers is a 30-year-old friend of mine who is a very sick young man. He is a great guy; one of those rare ones with no enemies. Loved & respected by all.

Jason is a Hattiesburg High and USM grad whom I've known since shortly after we moved to H'burg 17 years ago. I was his Sunday School teacher when he met this young lady who joined our 11th grade SS class when her Dad joined the staff of our church. They began going out, despite her attending Oak Grove HS while he played football at HHS. Then they both went to USM. I still remember the Christmas Eve service at church when he told me he was about to propose to her. They've been married for some years now, and have 2 young kids with #3 on the way. They were living down in Naples, FL where Jason was completing a nurse anesthetist program.

Jason was diagnosed with leukemia last weekend. He was flown back here and is in Forrest General Hospital taking chemotherapy. For more on him--including pictures of Jason & his family, go here: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/jasonweathers

If you are any sort of praying person, please pray for Jason. This is one of the good guys, amigos. There are few guarantees around, but here's one: you'd really like this guy. Very laid-back and easy to get along with by people across the social & age spectrum. He & I are always swapping hard rock music suggestions, most recently at church when he was visiting at Christmas time.

Also, watch this space for more details. I may be asking for volunteers to donate platelets to my buddy Jason in the future.

In the mean time, your prayers are invited, needed, welcomed, and appreciated.

With a heavy heart,
Mike

Let's take a journey together...

First, Happy New Year!! I'd like you to join me on a journey this year.

This journey will take us from the beginning of time through some of the monumental events that define who we are as people and why the world is as it is. We'll be challenged and encouraged.

I'm speaking, of course, of a journey through the Bible.

I was rooting around on the web last week, pondering approaches to reading through the Bible this year. (A regular goal of mine...) Anyway, I landed on this approach, which is the plan for this year.

Basically, it takes one through the Bible in chronological order--though there are both OT & NT passages each day. So, maybe it's more correct to say that this plan takes one through each of the 2 testaments in chronological order. Anyway, check it out. The link below takes you to a 2-page pdf file with daily readings listed there.

http://www.gpts.edu/resources/pdf/oneyrbible.pdf

(from the guy's own description of the plan)
This reading schedule is designed to take the reader through
the Bible in chronological order. Hence, the poetic and prophetic
books of the Old Testament are inserted at approximately their
place of occurrence in the historical books. For example, the
reading of the Psalms is placed after their historical treatment of
David's reign, because of David's connection with the Psalms. In
the New Testament, Paul's letters have been placed amid the
readings in Acts which approximate their time of writing. The
date of many of the New Testament letters is uncertain, so the
order presented is, to a certain extent, conjectural. The schedule
deviates from chronological organization only in that there is a
reading from both the Old and New Testaments for each day and
gospel narratives are inserted according to the probable date of
composition.
Greenville Presbyterian Theological Seminary
www.gpts.edu
P.O. Box 690 Taylors, SC 29687
864 322-2717

If you want to view this as merely reading some of the great literature in existence, that's fine. (Obviously, I view the Bible as much more than great lit, but reading it as merely a collection of lit will challenge your thinking & encourage you & bless you too.)

Join me, won't you?
bb

It's basketball season

This one will be...challenging.

My good friend Mark Bryan is no longer with us.

I'm already not looking forward to my thoughts the first time I step into Rees Gym for a PCS game. Oh, don't get me wrong; I love the game and the guys still there. But there will be a gigantic, gaping void for me. Plus, it was in that gym that Mark drew his last breath. But I won't go there again. I've written about that elsewhere.

My prediction is that the wound will never fully heal for me. But like many wounds, it will become increasingly more manageable. And I join my buddy Norman Rowe in believing that seeing the gym packed for a game will be most helpful in the healing journey.

Of course, the other change--much less significant than Mark's passing--about hoops season this year is that I'm no longer on the faculty of PCS. So, I'll be going as a sort of outsider, for the first time. Which will be tough for me.

As Mark's successor, my buddy Matthew Lofton, says, "Let's do this!"

I can't wait.

The Class of 77. (30 years later…)
Mike Madaris

We graduated during a time of some national confusion. Watergate was still working itself out. The Viet Nam war had ended, but the scars were only beginning to heal. The presidency was in a state of disgrace; President Ford’s presidency in escrow had just ended, and Jimmy Carter’s optimistic-but-deeply-flawed presidency was beginning.

Musically, we were torn between the radical protest music of the 60s, the softer music of the 70s, the continuation of the hard rock movement, and the arrival of disco. Those of us into jazz were confused by what Miles Davis had become and were electrified by Al DiMeola and Chick Corea.

Socially, drinking and other things happened, but they were still ever-so-somewhat taboo. We had graduated from fairly strict dress code enforcement during junior high to fairly loose standards in high school. Our yearbook photos provide evidence of this…

During our school days, we had witnessed a man landing safely on the moon and returning; an early 60s president’s challenge fulfilled. We saw the escalation…the massive escalation…of the Viet Nam war. Dads and brothers shipped out and fought. Some didn’t come back. We also saw the end of the war and the suspension of the draft. We saw integration, though it was not much of an issue in NW Florida. We saw political murder multiple times. We saw the launch of the political careers of a lawyer named Hillary Rodham and a Viet Nam veteran named John Kerry, though none of us knew then the roles they would play years later. We saw Viet Nam fall, and helped in various ways with the massive influx of refugees. Some of us played patriotic tunes out at the relocation camp at Eglin AFB.

Ours was a huge class. There were well over 600 of us. We were musicians, artists, athletes, surfers, scholars, and regular folks. We were hippies, preppies, burnouts, and fishheads. We loved Mrs. “Mama Jo” Yeager and Mrs. Almond, we respected Mr. Jones, we laughed with (or was it “at”?) Mr. Kelleher, and we disliked a few too. We guys grew our hair long, thinking that made us cool. The girls wore dresses short & tight, thinking the same thing.

We went to football games, basketball games, baseball games, and the occasional track meet. We hated Vikings—the cross-town rival, not the ancient warriors. We went skiing, we went to the beach, we went to Victor’s and the Hog’s Breath, though we lied to our parents about those last two. Of course, we went to prom and to post-game dances. We fell into love and back out of love. Largely, we had no clue what love was. But we sure thought we did.

And then we graduated. Some went to college at Florida, some at Florida State. Some went out of state to various places. Some of us got scholarships; others of us didn’t.

Some took jobs and began their work life earlier. Some went into the military. We got married, we had children, we gained weight, we lost hair. Some moved away after college or due to work. Others stayed. Many of us who moved away wish we had stayed put. Or could come back.

Regardless of the bends in these past 30 years’ roads, we remain somehow connected by time spent at a place called Choctawhatchee High School. For good or bad—mostly good in my case—we remain influenced and impacted by teachers, administrators, friends, and others we encountered there.

When I left high school, I arrogantly said I’d never come back. That lasted until the following Fall, when I ventured home & went to the stadium for a football game. The oh-so-familiar drum cadence began, and the buzz of anticipation raced through the crowd. I still love that anticipation and excitement, even after my own son’s playing days on another football field have come to an end. Just a few years ago, I once again marched with my brother and his son in an alumni Style Marchers band. And loved it. I still love to watch live jazz; partly just for the music, and partly because it reminds me of my days of trying—unsuccessfully—to master to art while in the Modern Jazz Ensemble at CHS.

We remember those who are now absent, teachers, parents, and classmates. They are missed, and their value and impact is somehow magnified as life progresses. At least part of who we are is traceable to them.

So, now we gather again. 30 years. 30 years ago, we thought that people our age were desperately old and hopelessly out of touch. (Indeed, I am now older than my Dad ever became, which is a mind-boggling reality to grasp.) Now, we realize that having been out of HS for 30 years does not equal “old.” At least, not real old.

Oh, sure, the waistline has expanded, and the hairline is now receding in multiple directions, and “40 time” is now related to how many traffic lights my car must stop for rather than how fast we run. And, yeah, there are pills to take that help with “old people” things like cholesterol and blood pressure. And the days of baking in the sun on purpose throughout the day are a distant memory, buried somewhere on the other side of sun-related cancer surgeries in my case. And our music is now played on “classic” stations, or, worse, in elevators and dentist offices. Wierdly, though, it also shows up on our children’s IPODs too. Which is at once comforting and unsettling.

But somewhere around here, there is a smallish, uncertain guy with horrible-looking long hair who never imagined being this, um, “vintage.” Who still remembers the difference between 8-to-5 and 6-to-5 marching…and who still remembers the formula for “Cosine of a Sum” thanks to Mrs. Almond’s “songs” in class…and who still remembers some of the words to the CHS alma mater…who still remembers giving speeches in Mrs. Yeager’s class…and who still lets his freak flag fly in between mortgage payments, college tuition, Dr. visits, career moves, and that sort of thing.

Emerson, Lake, & Palmer said it best all those years ago: “Welcome back, my friends, to the show that never ends!”

It’s class reunion time! I can’t wait. See you there!

Homecoming at the Capstone

So, tomorrow is homecoming at the University of Alabama. And I will be there, um, coming home.

We Bama alums take such things seriously. Too seriously in many cases. It is estimated that there will be some 120,000 people on campus tomorrow. 92,000 & change will be among the lucky ones who will have a ticket to the game. (yeah...I'll be part of the 92,000...). The others will chill out on the quad, eat, drink, listen to Kenny & Snake call the game on the radio, and watch whatever other games are on TV.

We'll walk around campus reminiscing. (Well, I will...) About football to be sure. But much more in my case. In many cases.

It was as an undergrad student there that I found academic redemption. My first attempt at college was...not successful. But at Bama, I hit my stride (as our fight song says) and came to love and to succeed in the classroom. It was as an undergrad there that this great econ professor and this great management science professor independently encouraged me to consider grad school. (Thanks, Dr. Bird & Dr. Charnetski, wherever you both are now...) It was as an undergrad at Bama that I caught up with some reality. To wit, as was stated in Animal House, "fat, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life, son." The lasting irony is that once I put away the party life, I began have faaaaaaar more fun. Still am, as a matter of fact!

It was an undergrad there that I watched the last 3 years of the reign of a childhood hero of mine in person. I even attended his funeral. Later, I taught his grandson. Thanks for the memories, Coach Bryant. I still get chill bumps reflecting back on those days and those teams and the way you conducted yourself there at the end of your career.

It was as an undergrad there that I met this young lady from the country of south Alabama. Her discernment meter was malfunctioning, & thus she began to spend time with me. (I was not much of a catch back then...perhaps not much of one now, but surely not then...) Went on some actual dates with me. Listened to my stories. And to my heart. Years ago, Felix Pappalardi penned these words: "and my Lady hears every note I play..." That's one of my favorite song lines of all time. I proposed near the end of my undergrad days after a couple of years of dating. Again, her meter malfunctioned, and she said yes. We married after my first year of grad school there, which was right after she graduated. This past June was 23 years, grad school, 6 jobs, 3 cities, a trailer, two apartments, two houses, and two kids later. She's still my best friend and she still hears every note my heart plays. Thanks, Lis. I love you!

It was as an undergrad there that I rediscovered long lost/abandoned faith from years before. I began attending church with my aunt, basically because I love my aunt. Then, I went with that same young lady. I met a bunch of folks who had a blast, and yet took their faith seriously. Prior to meeting them, I had decided that faith/fun were opposite ends of the spectrum. They demonstrated otherwise. Thanks, Aunt Daisy, for not giving up on me! And thanks, Gary, Jimmy, Cindy, Tom, David, Karen, Keith, and the rest for living your life and your faith before me, while still loving my un-love-ly self just like I was. I wanted what you had. Your lives and stories made a difference to me. Still do.

So, when I say I'm "coming home" tomorrow, yeah, sure, I plan to enjoy the living heck out of a football game. But homecoming to me is much, much more than merely an opportunity to eat unhealthy food & yell at the refs. Homecoming re-connects me with some of the deepest places in the very bedrock of my soul. Life-defining places, thoughts, emotions, & events. Sure...they could have happened elsewhere. But they didn't. For me, in God's providence, they happened on/near campus at the University of Alabama.

It's homecoming time. I'll be there. I can't wait! Roll Tide!
the beach bum

Worship this morning...

So, yesterday, I got to spend time with my buddy Eddie Baker, who is awaiting lab results from a biopsy done last week on a tumor in his brain. It was an incredible blessing to hear Eddie's heart as he shared what he's been learning during his journey through the fire. (aside: for more on Eddie's situation go to this blog)

Then, this morning in church, we sang a couple of my all-time favorite songs. Both were written during challenging times in the lives of the writers. The first is "Heaven" performed by Bob Carlisle. To get the proper groove, this is a slow song best sung by an incredible tenor with great range, like, well, Bob Carlisle...or Dr. Brett Valentine who sang it at Temple. The second is "Days of Elijah" which is much more upbeat & grooving, as performed by the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir...or the Temple Baptist choir with a very soulful female singer like our Jennie Bounds.
If I check out before you and you come to my funeral, plan on hearing "Heaven"...(but let's hope that's not any time right away...)

Enjoy!
beachbum

Heaven

There are moments in this life
When it's hard to carry on
When I think about my father
And all the loved ones that are gone
Friends and close relations
Somewhere on the other side
They've passed into forever
But the love has never died

Sometimes this tired old world
Starts bringing my heart down
But you've got to bear the cross
If you want to wear the crown
I often get impatient
As the time keeps dragging on
I've waited through the darkness
Now I'm ready for the dawn
I'm ready for the dawn

(Chorus)
I want to see Heaven
Where the faithful carry on
I want to see Heaven, Oh Lord
I want to see Heaven
Where the pain of sin is gone
In Heaven, Oh Lord
I want to see Heaven

So if I'm living every moment
As if this day was my last
I'll put my treasure where my heart is
And forget about the past
And if Jesus comes tomorrow
I'll be ready to depart
As He leads me to my mansion
I'll be following my heart
Following my heart

(Repeat Chorus)

Well, I try to go the distance
But it's more than I can bear
They say there's no more crying
And no more dying there
I've held on to the promise
Whosoever will believe
Would have life that's never ending
I believe...I believe

(Repeat Chorus)

(Wipe tears from eyes & swallow deeply to remove lump from throat...)

Days Of Elijah

These are the days of Elijah,
Declaring the word of the Lord:
And these are the days of Your servant Moses,
Righteousness being restored.
And though these are days of great trial,
Of famine and darkness and sword,
Still, we are the voice in the desert crying
'Prepare ye the way of the Lord!'

Behold He comes riding on the clouds,
Shining like the sun at the trumpet call;
Lift your voice, it's the year of jubilee,
And out of Zion's hill salvation comes.

These are the days of Ezekiel,
The dry bones becoming as flesh;
And these are the days of Your servant David,
Rebuilding a temple of praise.
These are the days of the harvest,
The fields are as white in Your world,
And we are the laborers in Your vineyard,
Declaring the word of the Lord!

Behold He comes riding on the clouds,
Shining like the sun at the trumpet call;
Lift your voice, it's the year of jubilee,
And out of Zion's hill salvation comes.

There's no God like Jehovah.
There's no God like Jehovah!

Any Given Saturday...

...as they say.

#1 USC - up by only 3 over Washington at the half.
#2 LSU - struggled early with Tulane. But then reality kicked in & they won handily.
#3 Oklahoma - lost to Colorado on a last-second field goal
#4 Florida - losing to Auburn at FL 17-3 in the 3rd quarter
#5 West VA - lost to #18 South FL last night 21-13
#6 Cal - beat #11 Oregon 31-24
#7 Texas - crushed 41-21 by Kansas State
#8 Ohio State - beating Minnesota 23-7
#9 Wisconsin - barely beat Michigan State
#10 Rutgers - lost to Maryland 34-24
#11 Oregon - lost to #6 Cal
#12 Boston College - beat U. Mass 24-14
#13 Clemson - thumped by Ga Tech 13-3
#14 - U of Ky - thrashes Fl Atlantic 45-17
#15 - U. of GA - thumps Ole Miss 45-17 (close for 3 quarters, but alas...)
#16 - South Carolina beats MSU 38-21
#17 - Va Tech beat U of North Carolina, but only 17-10
#18 South FL beat #5 West VA
#19 Hawaii - pounded Idaho 48-20
(ahem) #22 Alabama lost to FSU 21-14

Man, I love watching some college football!! One never knows...

Are you an evangelical Christian? Do you want a challenge?

Then read Professor Wayne Grudem's Presidential Address to the Evangelical Theological Society in 2000. The article is found in pdf form here.

I've long been a fan of Grudem's; had the incredible pleasure of taking a class on "The Doctrine of God" from him some years ago out in CO. Harvard undergrad, Westminster Theological Seminary M.Div., Cambridge Ph.D. Author of books and over 100 journal articles. Very thoughtful. Brilliant scholar. Great teacher. My copy of his Systematic Theology is well-read and marked up. (aside: systematic theology is basically the approach of saying "Let's look at everything the Bible says about ________," which is, of course, the preferred way of addressing the problems facing the church & society.

In this article, he's addressing the premier academic society in evangelical Christianity. (Note to some: there are, in fact, very good academic scholars who would be very comfortable sitting next to me in church this weekend in terms of beliefs) Basically what he does in the address is challenge these scholars to take the Bible seriously and treat it like they say they believe. The article is not short, and it takes one through some deep waters. Again, it's addressed to Bible scholars. But the challenge Grudem presents is very direct. And at some level, it applies to all of us who claim to take the Bible seriously.

Take some time to read it. You'll be challenged. And, I hope, changed.

That's it for tonight.

Selah,
the beach bum

Tom Petty said it a long time ago...

...the waiting is the hardest part.

Jehovah Shammah

In Hebrew, it means approximately "God Who Is Present." One of my favorite biblical names of God. Why a blog post about it, you ask? I'm glad you asked.

2 friends of mine are utterly relying on His very presence today. I would ask you to pray for both situations.

My friend Eddie Baker is awaiting lab results from a biopsy last Thursday on a tumor recently found in his brain. He is very upbeat and positive, and he would say that his attitude is not his, but granted by the Lord. For more on Eddie's situation, go to prayforeddiebaker.blogspot.com.

Another friend, Carl Fortenberry, has a young son Max who is about to undergo heart surgery. When I say "young," I mean 2 1/2 years old. So, they're out in Houston in a hotel awaiting a bunch of medical tests followed by serious surgery for Max. Meanwhile, their other 3 older kids are back home with an aunt. Again, Carl & Courtney--and Max--have great attitudes about the situation, though Max is caught up in the thrill of it all...which thrill will likely end decisively today as the tests start. For more on their situation, go to prayformax.blogspot.com.

Jehovah Shammah. He is present. Which is pretty incredible to ponder.

Selah.

And, once again, I'm back...

Long time, no post. I know you're disappointed. (or not...)

Go here http://prayforeddiebaker.blogspot.com. Eddie is one of my dear friends, who is facing a rather serious medical situation. Go, and pray as you will.

That's it. (more later...)

mm