Words from WW Blog

WORDS FROM W.W. April 28, 2011

I’m a fun-loving person. Some may even classify me as a fun-loving pastor. Rarely, however, do I link in my mind church and having fun. That may be because I’m a professional clergy leader, or it may be because I’ve bought into what our culture has fed us about what church is and isn’t.
The Bible is filled with images of a holy God, and people with long beards and staffs. We have curtain protocol in Leviticus, and sacrificial procedures in several Old Testament books. But, let’s be honest! Having fun is not a dominate scriptural theme. It isn’t the purpose of the Story. Scripture is more about the broken relationship, and the mending of the broken relationship.
The question is can we can fun while still keeping the Story at the core of our purpose? Can we laugh, as well as cry?
Sometimes it seems that it’s okay for our young people and children to have fun, but once you cross that high school graduation platform you arrive at “the other side.” Time to sit around in a circle and drink green tea, or, as you age, black coffee.
Seriously, I remember a lot of “fun moments” when I was a youth director. I remember doing “turkey bowling” in the gym, and something we called “The Un-Prom Progressive Dinner.” I remember playing hide-and-go-seek at the youth New Year’s Eve Lock-In; and “Get Dirty Night” in the church parking lot, complete with a fire truck to hose down the unrecognizable participants.
And I’m sure the kids at our church’s day camp had a great time as they watched me get a Mohawk that was then died blue! (I’m neutral on the “fun-meter” for that one.)
When we think “fun for adults”, however, the church rarely gets put in the picture. Maybe it’s because we deal with tragedy too much; and the stress of life saps us of joy. Or maybe it’s because we get too busy for fun.
What might “fun” look like? Is it okay for adults to have shaving cream fights in the parking lot? How about a dunk tank? We wouldn’t even have to rent one. We already have the baptistry! How about a “Progressively Hotter Dinner”? Start with some mild dishes and gradually work our way down the road to something that will blow your socks off! Why don’t we have more movie and popcorn nights in the sanctuary? How about “non-contact roller derby night” in the gym? How might “Get a Pedicure Night” go over? Or “Shave a Head Night” where people would give money to see certain individuals get the bald look?
We get too serious as the church. Life is messy most of the time, and we need each other to make the journey tolerable much of the time. But just as inhaling is naturally followed by exhaling, the serious nature of life needs to be partnered with the light nature.
So, lighten up at times, Church! Get creative! Who is up for “Shrimp Dip Night”, followed by a rousing game of Limbo?

WORDS FROM W.W. April 26, 2011

A TV show that I, unfortunately, don’t get to watch very often is entitled Middle. It’s about a family that is, plain and simple, middle class. And yet, there is always something unique about their “middleness.” Every episode seems to have its rising and fall, or fall and rise. They struggle with things like third grade math, teenage driver’s license, and getting cut from sports teams.
It mirrors a lot of our life, even down to dental braces!
I find that a lot of life has similar characteristics. I was answering some questions about being a pastor recently- the feelings I have, my energy level, whether or not I want to hug the congregation on a Sunday or strangle them (Not really!).
It was one of those tests where you give a number rating between 1 and 6.
“If people seem to get very excited while you’re preaching give yourself a “6”. If you fall asleep while you’re preaching give yourself a “1”. Or rate yourself somewhere in the middle.”
“If you are always happy and upbeat, give yourself a “6”. If you watch Comedy Central with an uninterrupted scowl, give yourself a”1”. Or rate yourself somewhere in the middle.”
“If a casserole is placed in front of you and you start salivating, give yourself a “6”. If you take a casserole dish (still filled) and throw it against a wall, give yourself a “1”. Or rate yourself somewhere in the middle.”
My problem (one of them!) is that I find myself wanting to write a “.5” between each of the whole numbers. Sometimes I’m fairly excited- maybe not as much as a pentecostal snake handler, or a pastor who has done multiple communion services with “happy juice”, but still fairly excited. However, if I rate myself “too excited” I’d be stretching matters.
Give me a “3.5” spot to circle.
Life has a lot of “.5’s” in it. Christians beat up on one another because we seem to flow back and forth from joy-filled to joy-less. “Is it possible for me to be close to Jesus and not be happy? Yes!” We’re like a kid making waves in the bathtub. The water splashes out on both sides, not just one side.
“.5” tells of the fluctuation of our lives. Each day has the potential to go either way. If I draw blood while shaving, the day could go south real quick.
I could be singing praises to God one moment and, in the next, be cussing out the policeman who has his lights flashing behind me.
I could be charging ahead with ministry plans one moment, and then, in the next moment, wadding up the paper plan because of the sudden resignation by a key volunteer.
I’m in that “.5” most of the day.
And it’s okay!
Because, you see, God is Lord of the middle, not just the mountain-top ratings and the valley lows. He’s intensely with me in those moments when I’m not sure which direction that moment is going in, or how positive or negative my attitude is on the verge of pointing towards.
Most Americans are middle-class, yet we refer to it more often than not as a place to move away from. We desire to be heading more towards Forbes and less towards Crime Digest.
The Bible talks about the first being last, and the last being first, but what about the half-in and half-out? In the moments when “I could go either way” God is there with me. That’s quite often difficult to remember, but it’s true.
Just something to think about!
If you’re in the middle of something right now, just pause and give God thanks for being there in the midst of it with you.

There has been a lot of publicity and sparring in the last few weeks about the new book by Rob Bell entitled Love Wins. It is a book that questions the judgment of Hell for people who do not profess to have a relationship with Jesus by asking questions about the nature of God. Rob Bell is a pastor of a Michigan church that draws a large number of young adults. He has been involved in an excellent DVD series that has been used in thousands of churches, entitled Nooma. I would describe Nooma as thought-provoking, and media excellent.

Love Wins is thought-provoking as well. Actually, it probably is thought-provoking taken to a new uncomfortable, and highly-controversial level. I haven’t read it yet, but from comments that I have read about this new read my reactions span from “I need to read it!” to “I shouldn’t read it!” The purpose of the book, and the controversy, took it to the front copy of this week’s Time magazine. There is no hiding it any longer. It’s out there.

Perhaps I’ll get the e-book. That way, it wouldn’t stand out on my hard copy book shelves.

What hits me about the controversy involves two thrusts, or observations, if you will.

The first is that the church is increasingly becoming a divided camp. There have always been divisions, mind you. We have verbal wars over the type of coffee that is served at church functions, what translation of the Bible we use, who can and can’t partake of communion, what the Sunday ushers should wear . . . and not wear, and, of course, worship music. We have a history of dividing more than we conquer.

But this division is one that is rarely talked about, and yet stands out like an over-grown neon pink elephant is a room that is filled with people in folding chairs. It’s not a division based on Rob Bell’s book. It’s a division based on openness to dialogue, or, closed to dialogue.

It seems that many people in faith-based buildings and structures are hesitant about openness. Is it wrong to question a Biblical principle? Or, does it sometimes take the journey of questioning and doubt to finally bringing someone to a point of belief?

I was raised on the saying “The Bible says it! That settles it! I believe it!” And whereas such a motto conveys the belief of my heart, soul, and mind, it also is ineffective in helping someone move along in their quest to arrive at ownership.

It’s interesting that in recent weeks I’ve had conversations . . . dialogues . . . with several people who long for an environment of “searching,” but are afraid of pursuing such that search as a part of a church. They are literally afraid of being ostracized if they raise the doubts they are trying to work through.

Can the church fertilize the soil that will grow dialogue amongst the seekers?

The second thrust is that each of us must ask what it is that we are anchored to. Do we believe that the Bible is the Word of Truth? Is it a firm foundation to help us keep hold when we stretch ourselves with questions?

Who is Jesus? Is He personal? Is He who people make him out to be? Can I see Him kneeling at my feet to wash them, as He did to His disciples? Is Jesus Truth; and if I believe He is, how close am I to the Truth?

I could go on with other examples of “anchors,” but the point is that there are those who aren’t anchored to anything or anyone. When a new idea comes along they hurry to it like chickens who have some feed thrown in a certain direction of their pen. Being able to differentiate between truth and half-truths are beyond them, because they aren’t sure what base their lives can reach out from.

I think it’s important to believe because I believe it, not just because someone else has told me to believe it. I’m troubled when people don’t feel they can say “I don’t believe . . .” because of a fear of chastisement and ridicule. It only creates a lack of searching.

Some might say that I should end this piece of writing with a chastisement of Rob Bell. I can’t do that, because I haven’t read his book. And even if I read it I will tell people what I believe about the things he writes from the basis of the anchors I hold firm to, and not what they must believe. I will walk with them in the journey of spiritual dialogue, believing that Truth will become apparent the more we talk about Him.

WORDS FROM W.W. April 12, 2011
A lady in front of me at Starbucks this morning paid for her latte’ with her cell phone. I was amazed! I’m still just trying to hit the right numbers on mine to call someone. I felt extremely primitive when I paid for my coffee the old-fashioned way, with currency.
There is an “app” that she had on her phone that allows her to scan her phone to pay for her drink. My mouth was wide open in awe. In the midst of my wonder I still wasn’t at that place where I could comprehend the action. How does the transaction get from the cell phone and scanner to the financial institution? I mean, I know it does, but I don’t know how it does it! It’s a wondrous mystery! I can’t even make the statement “I’ve got to get me one of those things!”, because I’m still fearfully amazed by it.
“Here, I’ll just stick with two Washingtons!’ It will help thin out my wallet a little bit.”
There is mystery, and then there is comprehension; and often the two are not holding hands with each other.
Last Sunday people from four of our neighborhood churches were led through a Seder meal by a rabbi. As we went through the bitter herbs, matzoh, parsley, and other elements, the rabbi often would be reading or speaking in Hebrew. Several times he led us in reciting Hebrew together. I have no idea what it was that I was saying, but there was an element of mystery to the experience.
Not a bad mystery! It’s different than my comment made about a basketball official a couple years ago who was doing the game I was coaching. I told someone after the game that “Every time he blew his whistle it was a mystery that was about to be revealed!”
This mystery had a special feel to it. You sensed that in the midst of the foreign language being spoken that there was the story of God being told. My lack of comprehension did not dim the glow of the mystery.
Sometimes there is a wide gap of cluelessness between the language and practices of the church. People that enter into a worship gathering, or a prayer time, or a Bible study, and have no background of understanding, are left in the dark. There needs to be some awareness of that.
And yet, we need not over-explain to the point that we lose sight of the Mystery of God. I’ve been intrigued in reading the stories of the Resurrection, and the events following it, at how many times the followers of Jesus didn’t comprehend, but they still were drawn into the mystery. There are moments of being aware that something of God was taking place, but comprehension didn’t enter into the picture until some time later.
The best way I might describe it is being on a tour of an art museum and having a tour guide explain the history and the meaning of a painting…but then there is the actual gazing at the painting, the pause in the words, and the absorbing of the scene into one’s mind and memory. All the words, and history, and explanation about why certain colors were used, can not replace the pause to view and reflect.
I didn’t understand the words of the rabbi, but I sensed some of the mystery. God is about mystery, and also, in His timing and His ways, revelation.
I’ll keep that in mind when someone whips out there cell phone to pay for their new High Definition TV!

WORDS FROM W.W. April 5, 2011

The recent issues of Time have included a hefty amount of coverage about the disasters in Japan. There has been even more emphasis given to the unrest in numerous Middle Eastern countries. As we’ve watched the situation it amount of information seems to be like falling dominoes that keep tumbling into the next one, and the next one, and . . . .

Is it just a coincidence? Is it just something that happens once every thousand years or so? Surely, it doesn’t mean that Egypt’s unrest was a cause in Libya’s unrest, and Yemen’s unrest, and . . . you get the picture!

I would say “no” and “yes.”

Each nation has it’s own unique set of circumstances that have led it to the point of rebellion. Corruption, poverty, lack of hearing, rich and poor, oppression, long-held traditions, and entrenched government leaders . . . all of these ingredients have been poured into the pots of each country in varying degrees. So, in one way, what has happened in Egypt has no relation to what is happening in Syria.

BUT, in our ever-connected world, what happens one place gets communicated quickly in another. I’m “facebooking” my nephew in Baltimore about his wedding in Chicago next October—it is faster than a letter, and even a phone call. Videos of our grandson are being shown to our families in Ohio and Georgia through our daughter’s Facebook page as soon as they happen. My son and I were wondering what the student enrollment at Butler University in Indiana is, so I “googled” it, and found out that it is just under 4,200, within seconds. I was recently curious about how many times Elizabeth Taylor had been married, so I went to online to Wikipedia and found the answer in 10 seconds (8 times to seven husbands). And, I’m texting my daughter in Sioux Falls about what we’re having for dinner.

In other words, there is immediate communication, unless you’re in the middle of a tsunami. With immediate communication comes an expectancy of immediate change. So, what happens in Egypt does impact what will happen tomorrow in Jordan.

Change is changing!

The Body of Christ needs to hear that. I doubt that it will be taken as good news. We, the church, are skeptical of change. The history of the Christian church is dotted with numerous changes that have left people confused and spiritually damaged. It has left us scarred, but, hopefully, a little wiser. Sometimes change is good, and sometimes it’s just craziness lived out.

But change is changing! It has come, and is still coming; and the way it’s coming is changing. It’s more rapid, more reactive. Change is less frequently concerned with the aftermath. Sometimes it is self-centered, while at other times it is an aggressive step forward in concentrated human compassion.

We can look at the Middle East situations and easily conclude that change will be mostly be resisted and fought. Change, however, when meeting unsympathetic intolerance, in recent times has gained remarkable momentum.

I’m even envisioning a cartoon where a young child is texting his friends. His mom asks him what he is doing and he responds, “I’m texting all my friends to schedule a protest rally tonight to put pressure on you to change your decision about buying a bag of cookies at the store tomorrow.”

Change is changing. Movements, right or wrong, are created overnight.

Bottom line, I believe this will impact the church more than it ever has before, and more quickly, too. The urgency in that is that we must know what the essentials are. But, the essentials need be more clearly stated than ever before, and we also must know what the non-essentials are.

What must we hold on to? What are the beliefs that cannot be compromised away, for in compromising them we lose the foundation of our Christian faith?

And, what are the things that we’re just too stubborn to allow to be changed? By not changing those things, we will lose our ability to speak to the culture.

WORDS FROM W.W. March 30, 2011

The other night Carol and I went to a Mongolian barbecue restaurant. If you’re not familiar with the concept, it’s a place where you decide what you want in your stir-fry combination by adding different ingredients to a bowl. You then take the bowl to the cooks manning the grill and they cook it for you and then dump it on to a plate. The ingredients include about half a dozen kinds of meat and seafood, an assortment of veggies, and about a dozen sauces that you can choose from. In reality it’s a glorified buffet!
Mongolian barbecue is a no-risk establishment. If you don’t care for your plate full of food, you can simply shove it to the side and go fill up another bowl. If I don’t like the tofu too, bad for the restaurant!
If I want all meat and no veggies, it’s my choice!
“Mom, don’t tell me what to pick!”
When I was growing up Mom put the food on the table. It was not a buffet. A meat dish…most of the time. A vegetable. A potato item. A piece of bread or a biscuit or skillet cornbread. That was it. If you didn’t like it…it wasn’t going to be shipped to a hungry child in India. It was going to be eaten…by you! Thank God my mom and dad were both great cooks. No giant dumplings with an Alka-Seltzer chaser!
In comparing those two ways of food consumption, I often feel that Christians follow the first method in regards to their faith walk. “God, show me the way after I determine the ingredients!”
We seldom travel out of our spiritual comfort zones, because we’re not sure we’d like it very well. Better safe then sorry, even if it’s to God that we’re saying “sorry” to!
I read this quote the other day from Eugene Peterson that resonates uncomfortably in my spirit. He writes:
“Praying puts us as risk of getting involved in God’s conditions. Be slow to pray. Praying most often doesn’t get us what we want, but what God wants, something quite at variance with what we conceive to be in our best interests.”
Perhaps that’s why many of us shy away from prayer. It puts us at risk of not being able to make the decision about what we put on our plate. Deep down inside I think most of us know that God knows best, and we are frequently irritated by that truth. We think that if God created tofu he’s got something planned for our life plate that will result in a waste of space and time.
“Praying most often doesn’t get us what we want, but what God wants…”
That is strangely comforting. Not comfort food, just comforting.
I’m going to chew on that for a while.

WORDS FROM W.W. March 22, 2011

I was giving Carol “the silent treatment” part of the afternoon.
No, she hadn’t mistreated me, or made a comment about my bald spot. I had been to the dentist. My mouth hurt. Actually, I felt like I was one of those Star Wars characters with off-shaped heads. At any rate I spent part of the afternoon not talking.
When I did talk I sounded like one of the characters in Bill Cosby’s Fat Albert TV cartoon show a few years ago. So I tried not to talk, just to be quiet.
Interestingly enough, Carol and I went to see the movie The King’s Speech later in the afternoon. By then I could chew popcorn on the right side of the mouth. (We go to movies to eat popcorn. In other words, we have a little movie with our popcorn!)The movie was based on a king’s inability to talk. I had read some of the history that the film was based in William Manchester’s extraordinary biography of Winston Churchill entitled The Last Lion.
Here was another situation of problematic speech.
My numbed mouth and King George VI’s stammering speech were both rooted in pain. In a few hours my pain was gone, but his kept coming at him wave after wave.
Sometimes our speech towards our Creator becomes numb. We fall into pain and heartache and we don’t know what to say to The Lord Who Provides, or we mumble it in embittered tones that make God out to be the villain and bestower of harmful intentions.
There are times when our prayer lives become speechless. We have no voice, no room for even receiving comfort. We are just tight-jawed and close-minded.
Like a son and his father there is the danger of being related but distant. With God, scripture tells us that we can call him “Abba”, while he refers to even one of us as his children. But sons have a way of moving away from their fathers, and then there’s the drifting to the point of silence and meaningless conversations when they do come back together.
King George’s speech was fluid when he was angry. He could cuss and speak angrily with the most convincing orators. It was in his times of uncertainty and royal expectation that his words became like high hurdles that caused tripping and hesitancy.
For many of us we cry out to God in our anger, and he passively pass him by in our successes.
Personally, I have found that I am much better at writing down my thoughts to God than speaking them to him. I’m deeper in thought and “writer’s block” gives me pause to reflect upon what he might be saying.
I dislike getting drilled, but once in a while- a great while- it gives me cause to keep my mouth shut.

WORDS FROM W.W. March 8, 2011

I’ve noticed in numerous television shows and films I’ve viewed in recent months that when there is a conflictual conversation that is starting to develop the scene changes, or sometimes music deadens the tension on the screen. A conversation that is about to become heated just ends and the scene goes to a commercial or what someone else is doing.
It’s kind of like this:
MOM: So did you steal that twenty dollar bill that I had on the counter?
SON: (pause) What’s for dinner tonight?
MOM: Does that mean yes?
SON: (stares at his iPod) We haven’t had pork chops in a while.
MOM: (stares at son staring at iPod) I just don’t understand.
(Music starts. Scene switch to Burger King commercial.)

There is a side-tracking to safety. Depth is extremely uncomfortable! Better to focus on the dinner menu!
How often does my relationship with Jesus mirror that? When the Holy Spirit is “stirring the pot” of my life it is convenient to focus on the silverware. When I have opportunities to draw close to the presence of God and experience an intimate moment of being fully-focused on Him, there always seems to be something that has the potential to draw me away from Him.
Instead of the spiritual meat I stare at a water spot on the spoon. Instead of closeness I look off into the distance.
Quite honestly, churches are notorious for this very thing. The Body of Christ has the awesome privilege to be the residence of the presence of God, to gather together for an audience with the Holy; but we are prone to play it safe and focus on other things such as the color of the drapes, and the length, or brevity, of the worship service. There will always be something that seems more urgent than an encounter with God! It might be the type of translation that scripture is being read from, or the temperature of the room, or the noise that someone in the third row is making…there will always be something that is of a “trivial urgency” that has the potential to keep us from getting to close to the heart of God.
Such things occurred on a regular basis in the early church. Paul addresses the safe side-tracks quite often in his writings. Christians got on the nerves of other Christians. As they lived day to day in close proximity to one another they created lists of personal pet peeves- people getting all crazy in worship, sue-happy brothers in Christ, a couple of women who kept bickering with one another, losing the intimacy of the Lord’s Supper because people were unashamedly gluttons.
To focus on our relationship with Jesus is what we long for, and yet, what we most often avoid.
Do you hear the music beginning, and the scene changing? We’ve adopted the revised saying “Better safe…than soul-searching!”
Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday. May we seek to not play it safe, but seek first first his kingdom and his righteousness.

WORDS FROM W.W. February 28, 2011

I felt it approaching my vocals cords on Tuesday, like a “bass frog” with low expectations. On Wednesday the volume level got turned down to the point that people thought I was whispering secrets.
Thursday, Friday, and Saturday it came and went almost as often as my memory.
I lost my voice…and then I gained it back…and then I lost it again…and…you get the picture!
A preacher losing his voice is as bad as a chef losing his sense of taste, or a parent losing their sense of smell when their toddler is right beside him/her. (Let me clarify! Others can smell “it” as soon as they enter the room. I don’t want to explain it any more than that!) I can only stress a certain scriptural point so far with raised eyebrows or distorted facial expressions. After a while I just look weird. (Some would debate that point even if I still had my voice!)
Last week I was trying to make a point to Carol and I just squeaked like a baby chick. It’s embarrassing to talk to your wife and suddenly sound like Pee Wee Herman!
There are other times in life, however, when I have, and others have, lost our voices. Sometimes it happens as we’re talking, but nothing is being heard. Sometimes we lose our voice because we are beyond any more words. We’re speechless in our souls. There is a quiet frustration that evolves into silence.
I believe we all come to that point at times, resurrect from it, and then, hopefully, our voices rise again.
My recent voice experience is of the audible type, but there’s an inner voice that is prone to disappear from time to time. It’s the voice of God that gets muted by our lives, and our plans, and our meetings. It gets covered up by all our details, like layer upon layer of blankets on a bed. We didn’t mean to lose touch with His voice. It just happened.
The resurrection of Jesus tells us about death, and then the coming back to life. When Jesus died there was a thundering silence. There was a punctuated quiet!
And then just when it looked like the voice of God had been silenced there was the grinding sound of a heavy rock that was rolled away. Life came into death. The voice came back.
I think of that picture when it seems like my voice has died. It think of it when I sense the rock is being rolled back into place, and I’m looking into the tomb of my existence instead of out into the promise of the light.
My voice began to come back today. It’s a sign of the fact that we serve a God who restores and resounds in the echoes of our personal valleys. After all, God’s voice, his speech, was heard in the third verse of Genesis 1, and it continues from there. We talk about hearing the voice of God, and then at other times when God is silent it is never a good thing.
Losing my voice has made me appreciate having a voice, a leading, an inner longing to walk in the ways of God.
So, it’s coming back. My voice, that is! I’ve only had a couple of Pee Wee Herman moments today. At other times I’ve sounded more like Tennessee Ernie Ford.
Oops! I just showed my age!

WORDS FROM W.W. February 24, 2011

Last week the Girls’ Varsity basketball team that I’m assistant coach for finished their season.
“One and Twenty-Two!”
For some reason when I spell it out it doesn’t look as bad as “1-22!”
When you only have one returning varsity player who averaged more than 10 minutes a game last year (Notice I said 10 minutes, not 10 points!) you have the necessary elements of a recipe for…for…corn mush. I can’t think of anything more void of sweetness and lip-smacking potential.
People shake their heads in pity. Opposing coaches would be thinking ahead to the next game while still in the first quarter of their game against us. Officials would give us certain calls out of sympathy.
The only thing worse than 1-22 is 0-23.
What we learned, however, is that people have the opportunity to learn and grow more in the midst of adversity than in the sweet smelling trail of success. In fact, the Bible seems to have a lot of “One and Twenty-Two characters” in it. Think of Jonah. He was walking away from his potential. He was moonwalking double-time away from his calling and opportunity to make an impact. Think of Joseph. How bad does it have to get for your brothers to despise you so much they toss you into a pit? And then shortly after being sold to slave traders, ending up in prison. Joseph was “1-22” before he reached “his breakout season.”
I wouldn’t say Peter was “1-22”, but he was the type of guy who come win five in a row, and then quickly start a long losing streak. You never quite knew what kind of night Peter would have!
Our team hung together even in the midst of some lop-sided games. The players learned to support one another, to appreciate the fact that no one was jumping out of the boat in mid-stream. Two of the girls had been on the softball team that had won the league title and advanced to the state tournament. They went from that setting to being a part of a basketball team that one lost more games in one week than they did the whole season in softball. It was humbling, and yet it taught them that life is made up of some tough periods that require perseverance. It requires having some others to help you walk through the dry places.
Sometimes we appreciate people only for what they can do, not who they are. Sometimes we minimize their importance or value because they can’t do certain things.
Although I don’t wish 1-22 seasons on anyone, it has the ability to take life to a deeper level that is not based on who is most gifted.
Churches go through 1-22 seasons as well. They are times in which we re-evaluate who we are and what is important. We come through them with new understandings and renewed vision. Some things that we thought were vitally important we discover were just the trimmings.
1-22!
“One and Twenty-Two!” Since I’m a writer I prefer to spell it out.